#my feelings for good omens have changed so much in so little time it’s kind of ridiculous | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberrystepmom · 5 months

Text

pairing: Suguru Geto x F!Reader

word count: 9.7k

contents: Canon compliant up to the events of JJK0, cult leader!Suguru, naive reader, slight age difference between reader and Geto (5 years), reader can see curses/has cursed energy but it is kept intentionally vague

cw: dark content | emotional manipulation, dubious consent, voyeurism, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, violence, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of religion and religious imagery, mind fuck-y

notes: so this is a remaster/full repost of unkindness that was on my old blog! i only got up to like the third segment in that post so i figured why not do it all at once. thank you for reading if you do and i hope that you enjoy my little story! ♡ | crossposted to ao3

When you were eight years old, sitting in your mother’s lap as she combed through your wet hair, you remember telling her about a recurring dream you had been having for weeks. You were nervous to tell her, your little hands balled into fists as they rested against your nightgown clad thighs.

“A raven,” you recount to her as she nods and gently uses the bristles of the comb to detangle a knot. “Bigger than any bird I’ve ever seen is in this dream every night, flying around over my head.” Your mother sighs and reassuringly pats your head. You hear the spritz of a spray bottle from behind you, a synthetic green apple scent filling your nostrils.

Telling her filled your stomach with anxiety, an issue you didn’t know you had at the time. You figured the world was just scary back then. You wish you could go back and tell yourself how right you were. About how scary the world is, anyway. To tell yourself about how everything will eventually end up likely wouldn’t change the outcome but at least you could say a few things.

“The raven comes to the ground eventually. He doesn’t fly over your head forever, instead he glides by your side.”

“The visions you’ve seen are real, you aren’t crazy.”

The most unbelievable thing of all?

“You end up in love and you end up losing yourself along the way.”

Back then though, you only had your mom and her words to illuminate the darkness you felt lurked around every corner.

“Have you ever heard of omens?”

Shaking your head, you turn to look at your mom who is tapping the edge of the comb against the heel of her hand. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek and you can tell she’s deciding what to say next to comfort you. Your mom has never been good at this kind of thing, a woman who never envisioned she would have a child with so much angst and fear.

“Sometimes we receive signs that something is going to happen in our lives even if we don’t understand them,” she starts. You hear her mouth open, as if she wants to add something additional, but you hear it snap shut as if she thought better of it. You nod once, signaling your understanding and she gets back to work at the stubborn tangle at the base of your skull without another word shared between the two of you.

You hate that this is the most vivid memory from your childhood.

You hate that you still have the dream.

You wake with a gasp, looking around and blinking as warm morning light filters through the window. Feeling around the bed, you wonder if Suguru is already up and moving for the day as your hands touch the duvet where he should be. It’s cold, as if nobody was there in the first place. Knowing that may have been the case anyway, you sigh and rub your hands over your face.

“Suguru?”

His name leaves your lips in a tentative manner and you look around the room to make sure he isn’t looking at the early morning sun or standing there watching you sleep. No matter how much of your life you spend with him, you’ll never get used to the feeling of those black diamond eyes following you everywhere you go. But finally, you are seen.

Four years spent with him and no one sees you like he does.

You were 18 years old, a few months from graduating high school, when Suguru approached you. The sight of a stranger raised your hackles, scared of the world at large at that point in your life, and you were concerned trouble was coming for you. All of the omens in your dreams would finally come true at the hands of this beautiful man, rising to his full height which is nearly towering over you. His hair was shorter then than it is now, just past his shoulders and tied in a neat half bun off of his face.

He looked like less of a god now than he did then but you knew it. The omnipresent feeling of him sticks in your bones. It’s the confidence that makes you stand with your back straight, that guides you through the worst of the days where he’s nowhere to be found.

Unable to find him, you shuffle back to the futon and lay down amongst blankets that smell like him. You’ve never been able to place the scent but you know it’s his. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you let your mind wander back to all of those years ago.

“I know this seems sudden but I wanted to ask you about your gift.”

Mention of your gift, not that you’d ever call it that, makes you freeze. He notices your expression, wide eyed and haunted, and he fights the urge to smile at you. Just as he and everyone else suspected, you have no idea what you’re capable of. It would be a failing worthy of death to let Gojo find you first. Suguru couldn’t risk the bird dog finding his canary and dropping her off, bloodied and broken, on the doorstep of the Sorcerer community.

He wouldn’t allow it.

“M..my gift?” You repeat with uncertainty and he nods, bun bobbing against the back of his head as he does so. The situation is withering, a handsome stranger asking you about a secret you’ve kept hidden for your whole life while the sun beats down and makes you sweat. You wonder if you’re about to be killed.

“You are an exceptional young woman, do you know that?”

The background noise of the world fades out, the sound of the spring birds chirping disappearing as you blink once, twice, and you notice those dark eyes fixated on you. You blanch and avert your eyes. Were you even allowed to look at him? Dressed in such nice clothing with such a regal demeanor? Shaking your head, you play off the awkwardness with a humorless chuckle.

“You must be looking for someone else, sir.” Bowing your head as a sign of respect, you turn to walk away. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Before you can turn on your heel to walk away, you feel a large palm rest on your shoulder. You take note of the weight of it, the feel against your bones, and you wonder why this is happening to you? You are so afraid but you can’t run, you don’t have the guts for it. What do you do now?

Nothing. You do nothing, just as you’ve done your entire life. You let this strange man grab you, hold you, speak to you. Humiliation rises like bile in your throat and you turn to face him, astounded again by his beauty. The sunlight catches his dark eyelashes, warmth emanating from him. How can you walk away? You won’t walk away.

“I don’t want this to be more strange than it already is,” he starts, voice deep and dreamy. You could get lost in the baritone and the way it wraps around you but you choose instead to focus on his words to try and understand what he wants from you. “But I know you have something nobody else has. Abilities.”

He’s correct but you wonder how he could possibly know about your struggles. You have kept them to yourself for years even to the detriment of your own well being. Your mother and father both assume you’re deranged and there are times where you’ve wholeheartedly agreed with them since you began seeing the things that haunt you at every turn when you were 5.

“How do you know about that?”

The man shakes his head and holds his free hand ahead of him. “Why don’t you walk with me and we can talk some more?”

How can you say no with his hand on your shoulder? Turning on your heel to face him, you keep quiet and wait for further instructions. Your naturally submissive tendencies are serving you well in this situation and Geto doesn't hide his smug smile. You are perfect and he knew it.

As the two of you begin to pick up pace walking side by side, you anxiously keep your eyes glued to the ground. Being able to visualize each of your steps is keeping you calm and if you look down, there's less of a chance you'll see whatever is out there to scare you.

"Look at me."

He doesn't ask, he commands, and you listen. For the first time, you notice something perching on his shoulder. It's formless for the most part and less terrifying than what you usually see attached to others as they pass by you but you're intrigued nonetheless.

"Do you know about that....thing?" Pointing to his shoulder, he nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "You see them also?"

A chuckle is his response and you ponder what it means while you wait for him to clear up your confusion. "I don't just see them, I control them."

The figure disappears quickly and you gasp, searching around your own feet and your shoulders to make sure he didn't order it in your direction to harm you.

"How?"

Despite your trepidation, Suguru can see the way that your eyes sparkle at the thought of someone being like you. He knows how it felt for him, too.

"I can show you and so can my friends." He watches your nose scrunch in confusion at his words and he laughs, amused. The sound is musical and uplifting and you feel yourself lightening up for the first time maybe in your entire life. Knowing you aren't alone has shifted your perspective more than you realized it would.

"There are more of you?"

"A couple dozen, yeah."

Nodding, you think for a moment. What if he can actually help you? What if these people are actually like you? What if you can find a place that suits you for the first time in 18 whole years?

"How can you help me?"

The man turns to you, knowing smirk in place across his mouth. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You hate her.

Never in your life has such a bitter feeling gathered in the pit of your stomach. Your face flames every time Manami walks by, you can feel it and you know she can see it. Tonight, you are more glad than ever to be on kitchen duty even if it means having to listen to her cackle from the other side of the wall.

“Geto-sama!”

She sing-songs across the tatami with a giggle as Suguru traipses by en-route to have dinner with the group, seating himself at the head of the table as everyone else files in around it. You fight the urge to roll your eyes from where you’re standing next to Mimiko and Nanako, pouring hojicha into tea cups.

“Geto-sama,” you mock under your breath and Nanako giggles, dishing rice into bowls at your side. The two of you giggle together, a secret shared, as she begins to bring the dishes to the table for service. Sorting your tea cups, you count how many more servings you need as you look around the doorframe to see who is waiting.

Your relationship with Geto’s most trusted inner circle has expanded greatly since you first arrived months ago.

They knew better than to be outwardly distrustful of you. Aside from the twins, every one of them had set out to find Suguru and his group on their own. He found you. He brought you. He touted your abilities long before you arrived.

“She’s the perfect blank slate,” he gushed over dinner one night as the other members of the group listened enraptured. “We got to her just in time, too. My source says that Gojo was planning on paying her a visit.”

Your arrival was underwhelming. Greeted at the end of the footpath that leads to the front door by Miguel, Larue, Mimiko, and Nanako while Manami glowered from the porch with folded arms, you weren’t immediately made to feel welcome by anyone except for Suguru who continued to guide you along the property with your arm looped in his. She was scoping you out, taking an assessment. She believed you to be no threat. She believed wrong.

Tinkering with the last cup on the counter, you take one look into the dining room again and the realization that your usual spot is full makes you chuckle humorlessly. Not that you’re surprised, Manami has done all but piss all over Geto to mark her territory but the sight makes a bitter, sour feeling turn in your guts just the same. Your nose scrunches as if you’ve smelled something bad and you don’t immediately hear when someone else enters the kitchen to pick up the tea cups you are still filling.

“About ready?”

The voice you recognize as belonging to Mimiko calms you and you respond with a nod, wrapping your hand around the warmest cup as you take a breath and plaster a smile on. This one goes to the man himself and you feel eyes upon you as you offer it to him with a bow. His hand lingers on top of yours for a moment and you’re glad your face is pointed toward the ground, your flustered look hidden as long as you don’t make eye contact.

“We’re just waiting on you,” he chides lightly, always a stickler for timeliness. You lift your head to his view enough to offer an apologetic half smile. He pats the side of your face with his tea-warmed hand and your smile grows. Your eyes meet his rich, umber colored pair and you feel at peace. “Manami will be out of your spot by the time you get back.”

A small “oooooooh” breaks out around the table but the tension is quickly killed with a sharp look from Suguru. Everyone quietly begins shuffling their utensils and you don’t stick around to watch Manami’s rejection, scurrying back to the kitchen to gather your own rice and tea.

“I want to share a few moments after dinner, if you’d all like to stick around.”

Suguru’s words inspire nods and happy, affirmative hums and you catch the tail end of them as you settle next to him at the table. Your opposition glares icily from the other end of the table, the same look she kept plastered on her face the day you arrived, and you meet her eyes long enough to offer a sweet smile before bowing your head in thanks for the meal you were about to share.

“I’d especially like for you to stay,” he looks across the table at Manami who nods once before turning back to her plate. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are knit together in irritation but smugness glimmers in her eyes. “You too,” he says and you turn your head to see him glancing down at you. Fondness crinkles the corners of his eyes slightly and you shrink into yourself with a nod and a shy smile. “Of course.”

The rest of dinner goes as you’ve come to expect. The twins giggle and joke with every other member of the group and you all sit beneath the watchful eyes of your leader who sips at his own tea with a barely visible over the edge of his cup smirk but you can see it from where you sit. You can see the corners of his mouth upturned just enough it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

He looks down at you and thinks about how vulnerable you look. How little you hide, your emotions and yourself alike. Were you like this before he met you or is this his influence? He takes credit. He knows the way you flash fake nice shit eating grins in Manami’s direction is for his sake. His sweet little bird isn’t afraid to fight and he hoped that would be the case.

“Since we’re all here, I wanted to discuss a few things,” Geto clears his throat and sets his cup on the table in front of him. He basks as he feels every eye in the room turn toward him but none make him feel more intoxicated than yours. When he casts you a glance, you smile shyly. He wonders if you’ll do that forever, look at him as if he’s a savior on a big white horse. He hopes so.

“I want to make some changes in what we’ll all be doing around here,” his voice rings proud and clearly and you fight the urge to prop your head up with your hand girlishly to get a better look at him. A few people shift in their seated positions but you don’t glance around to find out who, gaze fixed upon the person you want to witness the most.

“Manami, your duties are changing.” Replacing the sound of shifting clothing is small gasping and murmuring. Manami has been Geto’s assistant for close to two years, a coveted spot amongst anyone in the group. “You will still be my personal assistant but only for off compound events and daytime hours.”

Grateful for your own refusal to look at the rest of the table, you can tune out the uncomfortable chatting. “I know this may be surprising but we have many things ahead of us we need to prepare for,” he starts and the noise quiets. “Manami is one of the brightest among us and she will excel no matter what she’s doing.”

Hearing him praise someone else makes your back stiffen, the urge to pick at the seam of your t-shirt making your fingers twist in the fabric idly. You’re grateful your grip is beneath the table, hidden from view. No one will suspect how you feel as long as you’re careful but you gasp as you feel two large, soft hands untangle your fingers from your shirt and squeeze them between their palms. Looking up you’re greeted by the handsome, vulpine smile of Geto and you feel another gentle squeeze of your hands.

You take a deep breath and ground yourself, focusing on his words as he opens his mouth.

“You will be my new on-premises and evenings assistant.” Despite your shock and the look on your face that shows it clear as day, you nod. “I would love to,” you clarify and he squeezes your hands once more as he rises and drops your clammy fingers back into your lap.

Standing at his full height, Geto smiles as he looks over the faces of everyone sitting around him. Even Manami is working to hide her pout, looking toward the ground but keeping a smile plastered on her face. You sit with your legs tucked beneath you, a shred of hope illuminating parts of you that you once saw as dark and empty.

You get to spend most of your day with Geto, most of your evenings too. Perhaps in that time he will finally have the opportunity to tell you about your gift. In 6 months you’ve learned as much as you knew the day you arrived but that may be soon to change. Giddiness makes you smile slightly, your face beaming as you keep it looking up.

Suguru extends his hand in your direction and your smile grows wider. Gingerly placing your palm in his, he helps you rise as he places his hands on either side of your face. You strain your neck glancing up at him, you’re only chest level or so to his massive form and you can feel him using his grip on your cheeks to lower your head. Once you’re gazing at the floor his lips graze your forehead and you gasp, fire erupting through your limbs.

“I’m going to teach you so much,” he coos as he uses his grip to turn your face back toward him. His eyes drink in the sight of you - the tip of your nose, the shape of your lips, and he smirks so quickly you swear you only imagined it. His thumbs graze your cheeks before he drops his grip and looks over your head at everyone else. That tall, dark shadow rests directly over you, though.

“You’re all dismissed, thank you for a lovely evening.”

Everyone stands and you stay facing Geto until all of the footsteps have filed out, waiting for his permission to leave next. You flinch slightly when his hands grip your face again, a natural reflex to the surprise of his touch, and he gazes at you silently for so long you stop keeping time. It could have been seconds, it could have been days - you will never know but you will accept it nevertheless.

“Come see me tomorrow morning,” he whispers and you nod. You can see his eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth and you wonder what he’s thinking. He dips his head slightly and you can feel his lips brush gently against yours, a kiss almost too small to be qualified as one. You shiver, his thumbs digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks.

“Yes sir.”

“Say that again,” he mutters against your lips. The vibrations of his words are directly on your skin and the heat that erupted in your limbs before has become a full blown fire, your face hot and your palms sticking together. “Yes sir.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead and releases his grip, straightening his back out as he walks toward the door and offers you a bow of his head. “Get some rest.”

You make certain he’s gone before you touch your fingers to your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as you commit the feel of his soft mouth on yours to memory. You won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Geto-sama?”

The sound of your meek voice alerts Suguru to your presence and he looks up from his usual place by the open sliding door between his room and the porch attached to it, a light breeze blowing his hair off of his shoulder. He looks ethereal and resembles a hero from a book you obsessively read as a child. Rescuing a sweet young woman from a life marred by sadness, the hero hauls her off to a place where she can be happy.

The irony isn’t lost on you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you start, clasping your hands together in front of you and he rises to standing, elegance exuding from him even in the most mundane of situations. He approaches you and gently rubs the back of your head and you fight the urge to lean into the touch. No amount of him feels like enough.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” he responds with a serene smile, one you’ve noticed is just for you. He doesn’t smile at anyone else like that, not even Manami, and smugness rises in you for a split second before he speaks again. “What can I do for you?”

Clearing your throat, you look toward the ground and keep your hands linked. Geto recognizes the posture, something you do frequently when you want to speak, and he waits with his own hands joined inside of the sleeves of his yukata robes. He loves how naturally you submit to him, how you won’t even meet his eyes.

“Why am I here?”

If he’s surprised by your question, he doesn’t show it, but he does take a few strides to your side to place a comforting arm around your shoulder. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. Sides pressed together, you’re surprised when you feel the most minuscule squeeze of reassurance. Your heart threatens to burst as he leads you to where he was sitting and invites you to sit across from him, the two of you looking out at the sun setting on the horizon.

“Before I answer,” he adjusts his sitting position and turns to face you. The golden hour warmth hits his face and you swear, not for the first time, you are glancing at a deity. Something, someone, greater than yourself. You shouldn’t be this close to him and you start to spiral but his voice brings you out of your own mind and into reality, your gaze shifting from the ground to him. “Will you tell me why you’re asking?”

Twisting your fingers together and sitting your hands in your lap, you sigh.

You’re uncertain of how much time has passed since you left your old life behind to join him and while you do finally feel at peace with yourself, the natural pull you feel toward the man who brought you here in the first place hasn’t dissipated in the way you expected it to. It feels like an unfulfilled hunger, a need more than a simple want at this point, but how can you begin to tell him that?

“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll see me differently.”

Your words finally get a rise from Suguru and he quirks one of his dark brows. The crack in his cool headed exterior makes you giddy - is that because of you? You’re dumbfounded when his posture changes and he scoots closer to you, your knees nearly touching his. Should you pick yours up and press them against your chest? To quell your own anxiety, you decide to follow his lead. You will only move if he does.

“Nothing you say will change my opinion of you.” He reaches out and touches your knuckles with the tips of his fingers and you feel heat rise through every inch of your body. The touch makes you feel emotional and you break the intense eye contact between the two of you to stare at the ground, hoping it will hide the tears that are threatening to spill down your lash line. “I brought you here.”

Nodding, you lift your still joined fists together and wipe your eyes and down your cheek with the back of one of your hands. Although you are still looking down, you can see Geto moving from your periphery and you wonder what he’s going to do next.

Concerned your display is upsetting him, you sit still and try to regulate your breathing to keep from sobbing but errant tears still flow. You feel Suguru’s finger before you realize what’s happening and you flinch slightly beneath his touch as he wipes the wet tracks off of your skin. He wipes his finger along the fabric of your yukata robe before wrapping both of your fists in one of his much larger hands.

“Please be honest with me.”

Thinking back to what prompted this need for confirmation of what you mean to him, you dig your nails into your palm until you’re certain marks will be left. Manami, someone who spends almost as much time around Geto as you do, comes into your mind and you gnaw on your lower lip as you think about the jealousy churning in your gut. Why does she get to be there to help him make decisions? Why does she get to watch while he’s in meetings? Why did you see her leaving his room last week, hours before dawn?

Knowing it should be you is the emboldening thought you need to open your mouth.

“Do I mean anything to you?”

Feeling him squeeze your fists, the palm of his hand warm and comforting, you release the breath you’ve been holding. For better or worse, you’re about to find out and although your mind is racing, willing yourself to be calm comes easy in his presence. As if you needed further confirmation of everything he has done for you at a moment when you’re demanding something you feel unreasonable for wanting.

“You mean everything to me, you’re our future.”

His confirmation makes you weep. Tears flow freely, dripping down your cheeks and they hit the knuckle of Suguru’s thumb. You should feel guilty, you think, for putting him in a position to have to answer to you but cannot bring yourself to do it. You shouldn’t have had to wait more than a year to know but forgiveness is easy when it comes to him. If anyone should be sorry it’s you for questioning him in the first place and so you begin to ask for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry for asking, Geto-sama.”

You feel him pulling you into his lap, his strong hands wrapping around your hips and the blood rushes into your face. Perching with uncertainty, your bottom rests against his thigh and it feels natural. All of the yearning couldn’t have prepared you for this feeling and you sigh as he brings one of his large hands to cup the back of your neck, his voice so close to your ear it makes goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Call me Suguru from now on,” he whispers, a secret for your ears only. You feel his lips press against the space where your jaw and neck meet, another secret for the two of you to keep. Everyone on the compound would view you differently if they knew this was happening but you don’t care. You can’t care, not when he’s running his palms up your waist and unfastening your robe.

The opened door with a view of the outside doesn’t concern you as Suguru’s deft fingers work at the knot keeping you decent, the same breeze that rustles his hair that has always reminded you of feathers blowing across your bare chest as the robe is worked down around your waist. Your nipple stiffens and Geto reaches to pinch it between his thumb and index finger, making you yelp.

“How long have you wanted this, my little bird?” He wonders aloud and you almost feel as if he isn’t speaking to you at all, he merely wants you to listen and to witness. “Since you met me?”

He knows the truth just as he knows the way you’re looking at him. Eyes lidded, cheeks puffed out, lips wet with your own spit. You’re never going to leave his side.

“Tell me the truth,” he pinches your nipple once more and you arch your back, lip jutting out at the roughness of the feeling. Nobody has ever touched you like this before and the feeling is electric. Despite the fuzziness in your brain, the heady arousal clouding your every thought, you wet your lips with your tongue and speak.

“So long, Suguru.”

He smirks knowingly and lowers his head to suck your breast into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. It’s nothing short of heaven, you think. This is how it always should have been. His hands travel from the dip of your waist to your hips, pulling the fabric of your robe further down to expose more of you to his hungry eyes. You reach out toward his face, your fingers tentatively brushing against his lower lip and he releases your nipple from his mouth.

“Can I touch you too?”

Another whisper, another secret. A predatory gleam shines in Suguru’s eyes and you wiggle against his lap, keeping your fingertips pressed against his mouth. He puckers and kisses them gently, reaching to grab your wrist. He places your hand against the bulge beneath his robes, covering your delicate fingers with his own.

“You can,” he uses his grip on your hand to press the heel against his hard cock and he hisses through his teeth. You admire the way his throat looks when his head is tipped back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing. How is everything he does so effortlessly beautiful, you wonder. Your attention is recaptured by his voice. “But first, how long?”

Your wide eyed, parted lip expression only serves as further fuel for the blood pumping between his legs. You look so innocent, the same as you did when he felt the first of your defenses crumble, the day he approached you to come with him. It strikes him as funny that both times, your vulnerability is because he has put his hands on you. Nervously, you shift in his lap and he presses you closer to his body to keep you from going any further.

“Since the first day,” you admit, to him and yourself for the first time. He smirks, molding your hand around his bulge and you squeeze. Another hiss from him is all you want, the noise motivating you to offer yourself further. Using your free hand, you slip out of your robe the rest of the way and for the first time, you're bare to his eyes.

"Look at you." Your face heats and you feel your posture collapse in on itself, shoulders slumping after being so seen. "Show me how well you listen."

His command drips with condescension but you’re too awed to notice. When you nod, he gently nudges you off of his lap and you tuck your legs beneath you. Watching as he rises, you stay seated and admire the way those same lithe fingers that were just caressing your overheated skin work at the knot in his own robes.

Those dark eyes glance down at where you kneel on the ground and he gently smooths his hand over the top of your head and slides it into place along your cheek to cup your face. Using his grip to force you to look at him, you do and appear dazed. Transfixed, perhaps, would be better.

“I’ve always known,” Geto unfastens the knot in his robe fully and you gasp at the sight of his nude form backlit by dusk right outside the door. He’s tall and broad and you can’t look away. “That you would realize.”

Pumping his hand along his impressive length, you bite your tongue to keep from eagerly interrupting him. You want to touch him so badly, you have to sit on your hands like a child to keep from approaching sooner than you should. Before you can think any further about his words, he walks a few steps and the sticky head of his cock nearly brushes your soft, swollen mouth.

“I knew it was you from the moment we met.”

He hangs his head just low enough that you feel the words are truly meant just for you and you shiver. As you wait for further instruction, he squeezes your cheek and jaw in the palm of his hand. Your eyes don’t leave him once.

Suguru has always prided himself on his ability to break people down - to their core, their most base selves in every sense of the word. Usually there’s a moment where he can see in their eyes that they have been broken, cloudy and glossy. Yours have looked like that since he met you.

“This is what devotion gets you.” His words make you shiver as he uses his free hand to point the head of his cock at your lips, rubbing the sticky tip along your pouty mouth. Sitting still as stone and waiting for his directions, he gently pulls your face toward his pelvis and his tip pops into your mouth. A long, low moan leaves him and you squirm at the sound. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Suguru releases his grip on your cheek and moves to palm the back of your head, fingers finding an easy and natural grasp on your skull. You take a deep breath and look up at him with watery eyes and he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re perfect,” he breathes toward the ceiling and you tense slightly as he uses his grip to move more of his cock between your lips. “Stay relaxed, baby. It’s okay.”

Your head bobs slightly and he groans again and you wonder what it will take to get him to make that noise again, the deep guttural moan sending shockwaves to your clit. You want to rut against something, to feel the pressure release in your stomach and between your legs, but Geto is your first priority.

Experimentally, you dip your face toward the dark hair at the base of his thick cock and you gag a bit as more of his length slips down your throat. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he gasps. Lifting your eyes in his direction for just a moment, you whine at the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure. Open mouthed, eyes shut tightly, every muscle in his neck bulging - you love it. If you were a more artistic person, you’d find a way to capture this forever but for now you commit the vision to memory and allow him to thrust his hips so that the remaining length of him dips fully between your lips. The tip of your nose brushes his pubic hair and you moan and gag around his length, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. Using the thumb of his free hand, Suguru brushes your tears away and it makes you sob and gag.

“Oh, don’t give up on me now,” he comforts from above, brows furrowed as his hips jerk and your nose continually bumps against his pelvis. Finding a rhythm, he listens to the noises coming from between your lips with every stroke and he feels himself getting closer. His balls tense and his cock twitches and he isn’t willing to prolong the wait any longer than it has already been.

“Open up, keep your tongue out, just like that,” he instructs as he releases his cock from between your lips with a sticky and wet pop, jerking his hand along his spit covered shaft right above your lips and chin and nose. “Stay just like ahhh-,” his words are cut short with a pleasured shout as he shoots translucent ropes of cum across your spit soaked face. A splash lands across your tongue and you note the salty taste - something you’ll associate with just Suguru for as long as you live.

Wrist pumping until he feels fully emptied, he takes a deep breath and covers himself halfway. His lean torso is visible and you feel your cunt throb at the sight and part of you wonders if he’s going to do the same for you - if he’ll kneel between your legs and worship your pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in days.

“Miguel, Manami, you can come in now.”

The deep voice filling your ears makes you scramble to cover yourself with your arms, your breasts and back bare to the open sliding door. The pair make their entrance and you keep your face pointed toward the ground, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. Suguru pats the back of your head as he walks back toward the tatami and sits, patting the spot next to him for you.

“Had some other business to take care of, please forgive my rudeness.”

You stay frozen in place but you can feel the eyes of your compatriots on your sticky face, remnants of Geto clinging to your cheeks.

Days spent on the compound are simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and some of the busiest you’ve ever had.

Each morning, you rise with the sun and watch her from the window that is on the wall opposite where you lie. Most of the time you are on your side, arms wrapped around yourself, in your bed or Suguru’s depending on the events of the evening prior. He most often has you visit him in his quarters and you appreciate the near luxurious gift of privacy on those evenings. It’s far less private in your own room, thin walls separating yourself and whoever is in the room next to yours, although everyone seems to know exactly what Geto uses you for and has since your arrival.

He honors you by allowing you to love him, you remind yourself while the dark thoughts swirling in you churn. They’ll be chased away by the sun and by his presence when he returns to his room where you lay. His side of the futon is empty, already made up as if he were never there, so you allow your mind to wander. If he’s feeling generous, maybe today he will have lunch with you or even better, he’ll finally allow you to begin training your cursed energy into something more than a never-ending sinking feeling in your guts.

He promised you a very long time ago he would help you learn about your own abilities. It seems ungrateful to still long for usefulness considering you know exactly what your role is, yet you can’t help but wish to find this key to understand yourself that seems to always be out of reach.

Tracking the time fell away from you long ago, not long after the first time you were intimate with the man you so dutifully serve. Autumn gave way to winter which faded into a difficult to remember spring followed by the once again balmy days of summer. Again and again and again. Cicadas ring out across the secluded surroundings of the compound morning to night. You blink as they instruct you to rise, singing a tune even more rehearsed than the mechanical beeps of the alarms you used to set on your phone. How long has it been since you’ve had a phone?

Does it matter?

Months or years may have passed but you find that you don’t care all that much. Time passes the same without being able to watch it, a voice that sounds a lot like Geto’s reminds you in the back of your head. You are here forever as part of your purpose to serve his goals and time is just a construct.

When’s the last time you felt like yourself?

Last night, when his satisfaction was the only thing you had to be concerned about, you chide yourself silently. You sound ungrateful to your own ears even if you don’t speak, these endlessly appearing questions becoming more aggravating with each second that passes, and you are annoyed and angry when you rise from Suguru’s bed, re-knotting the tie of your yukata. The shoji is open and he stands just outside of it wearing a cotton robe of his own, sunlight silhouetting him.

He’s a God, you remind yourself, though it doesn’t kill the bitter taste in your mouth the way it usually does. Shuffling toward the door, you take a deep breath and call out his name from inside, his face turning toward you. This makes the bitter taste turn into something sweet you wish to taste again, a soft smile replacing your uncertain frown.

“Good morning,” he calls toward you, sweeping his hand out in front of you to indicate where he’d like you to be. You dutifully follow the wordless instructions and arrive at his side with a smile, squinting in the early morning light.

“Good morning, Suguru. How did you sleep?” Smiling down at you, he gently takes your hand. “As well as I always do when you’re in my bed.”

The compliment and his touch make you feel girlish, heat rising in your face. To be a God’s beloved concubine is an honor, one you rarely take for granted even in your weakest moments. He has given you purpose, motivation, and an understanding you would not have found in a world with people who are unlike you.

Yet that same pit in your stomach lingers. He can tell, narrowing his eyes when he glances at you again though you avert your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?”

A tight smile slips across your face, measured and careful; similar to the one you always give Manami when she’s swearing her devotion to him at dinner or after the congregation. You want to tell him the truth, to open up and make him understand your need to be useful, but the words stick inside of you.

“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep very well.”

It isn’t exactly a lie but he knows that it isn’t the entire truth and his blood runs cold wondering what you’re hiding. You are usually so placid around him, glassy eyes and subdued smiles with averted eyes, but he can feel the anxiety flaring from your body. Are you unhappy? Is the spell he has held over you weakening? Does he need to scare you into reminding you of where your place is, the way he has with so many others?

Tutting gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side.

“Speak freely, I value everything you have to say.”

Lulled into a false sense of security, you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“May I train with you today?”

Suguru laughs, lifting his hand and gently brushing his thumb against your chin. He’s always touching you when it’s just the two of you, hands rubbing your forearms or fingers pressed against your face. He’s a sculptor and what are you if not simply the clay he’s molding beneath his touch, smoothing out edges and reshaping you from the bottom up into something you aren’t sure you recognize anymore which is how he has always intended things to be. His perfect blank slate, he said so many years ago. There isn’t a time where you haven’t proven it to be true even if you need a reminder.

“Why?”

The tone of his voice makes you feel foolish for asking and your sidelong glance turns to the ground beneath you. Subservience is a practice and one you tend to be good at, evidence provided in the form of your refusal to make eye contact even when he begins speaking again.

“I’ll protect you from anything that could hurt you. You know that, right?” He furrows his brow, one of his hands wrapped around your forearm while the other remains on your chin. “You are safe here. Nothing here can or would hurt you, not while you’re in my care. Isn’t that enough for you? You demand training so you can, what? Fight?” Chuckling and finishing with a haughty sigh, he shakes his head. “You don’t have a fight in you, little girl. You never have.”

Defenses faltering, you laugh to yourself and up at him, sensitive eyes once again squinting when faced with the grace of the higher being in front of you. Of course he’s keeping you from having to enter battles you aren’t equipped for, isn’t that what he has been doing this entire time? Protecting you from those shadows that have lurked over your shoulder and kept you from sleeping since you were a child, comforting you, blessing you.

Your rudderlessness isn’t Suguru’s fault, it’s simply your own for assuming you know more than he does.

Nobody knows you like he does. They never will.

“Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

You call him Suguru in pleasure and Geto-sama in exaltation, raising it to the heavens that put him on the earth. Moving to fall to your knees before him in apology for making him believe his protection isn’t enough, he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. His thumb digs into your collarbone, somewhere between painfully and pleasurably, and you remain standing on wobbly feet with a dumbfounded expression.

“I already have. For everything.”

There is so much you’ve done since you’ve arrived, so much to be forgiven for. Questioning him, doubting your place with him, doubting others, speaking with a jealous tongue and thinking poisonous thoughts. You accept his grace with a smile, tears rimming your eyes. You have always been told that forgiveness grants freedom, the wind at your back and the sun on your face. You feel it on this day, gazing up at a man who has saved you time and time again despite your own folly.

Nodding and sniffling, you shut your eyes to stop yourself from open mouthed sobbing in thanks. You don’t deserve this and never have.

“I’m going to tell you something I’ve told nobody else, okay?”

The assertion that he still trusts you despite your disrespect makes you emotional again, eyes opening and tears falling while you nod.

“I love you.”

I love your devotion to me, he means, though you’ll never read between the lines to consider that the truth is that you are just a pawn to a man you’ve dedicated your existence to pleasing. Your body, your words, even the way you enter a room have all been carefully trained to suit him. You’ve been broken by his hands and he is always in a hurry to remake you, fashioning you into something once again useful.

“That’s why you’re here, little bird. To be safe and loved, not to fight or grow jealous or be angry with me. Are you angry with me?” You shake your head quickly, leaning into his touch with furrowed brows. He drops his hand from your chin and wraps his arm around your waist. “Never, Suguru.”

“Then don’t ask about training again, understood? Trust me to take care of you.”

And trust you do, nodding and finally letting that open mouth sob escape. He does a bit more tutting and his large hands paw at your body, yanking at the knot keeping your robe closed, roughly cupping your breast when the fabric falls open. Tears drip down your cheeks and onto the back of his hand, just how he likes it, and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth as he glances down at you.

“Do you trust me?”

This isn’t even close to the first time that he has asked but he needs to know just how many pieces he has smashed you into. He flexes his hand, squeezing your breast, further punctuating the point he’s trying to make - every little bit of you is his to have, to control, to make, to break, to feel.

“More than anything, Suguru, I swear.” Your legs ache to once again fold and bring you to your knees, the way you best know how to prove your regret, but you remain standing, lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Your apology is a mantra you repeat as his hand dips lower beneath your robe, grazing the soft skin of your stomach and hip. Roughly wrapping a hand around said hip, he pulls you against his body, cold glance locked on your puffy, wet eyes. Despite himself, he smirks down at you, head tilted to the side. His hair is a black curtain that falls over both of you, soft strands resting against your bare torso and arm.

“Do you love me?”

You do not have to think about your answer though it shakes when it leaves your mouth, your lungs begging you to gulp down enough air to replace what you’ve let escape through sobs.

“I love you so much.” You shake your head and sob again. “Please, please believe me”

You feel like a half-formed thing, ready to be made over however he sees fit.

“I believe you, no need to cry,” he assures you, grip on your hip tightening. You breathe through your open mouth and he takes the opportunity to bring his thumb to your face once again, pulling your jaw down and widening your mouth. You know what’s coming next, heat stirring from deep within you despite your sorrow, before he even commands it.

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and he spits down onto the muscle.You roll it back into your mouth in an instant, grateful for the opportunity to have even the tiniest piece of him in you, his eyes following your throat as you swallow. Communion, consumption of him to purify yourself from the inside out. The ultimate apology until he can use your cunt to fulfill himself later, although he wants to take you now, right here, inviting everyone out to see the work of a master craftsman.

Sobs gradually give way to less powerful sniffles, you squint up at him with your skin exposed and his touch and his hair and his scent and wonder what you were even wishing would happen in the first place. That he’d train you to do what, exactly? This is what you were meant to do.

“Do you feel better?”

You nod and he smiles down at you, the same measured smirk he always wears. He leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to give you some semblance of modesty but leaving it open as he ushers you back inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Suguru crowds you into the room, leading his nearly lost lamb toward the futon while untying his own robe.

“Now, apologize like you mean it.”

Now, you fall to your knees, grateful he’s allowed you to show how sorry you are in the shadows of his room instead of by the light of the sun.

“War is on the horizon.”

Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you at Suguru’s side on the elevated platform at the front of the room, you keep your eyes downcast while he addresses his congregation. This is your role, it has been for a very long time now, and you’ve learned to ignore curious onlookers or newcomers who will never be able to fathom such fanatical love.

You love him so much you silence yourself. You sit by his side, so quiet you may as well be nothing but air. You have never learned how to defend yourself or even delved into the curses that used to weigh you down; freedom from these responsibilities came in the form of surrendering yourself fully to him. Body, mind, soul, all tied to his whims. You are a puppet on a string and he is free to move you in whichever way he chooses.

Just the way you like it.

“I’ve officially made the declaration to Satoru Gojo himself.”

For the first time in years, you look up when you are meant to look down, the anxious murmuring of the crowd making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You know what happens when the congregation disagrees or questions their leader and he rises with a flourish, petting the back of your head gently before stepping off of the platform.

“Do I sense disagreement?”

Looking every bit the apex predator that he is, you dare keep your gaze trained on his back rather than the floor. His head swivels from one prostrate form to another, seeking out anyone who dares disagree with his plans. Foreheads touch the ground below them, the ultimate show of devotion, yet one head remains raised and Suguru chuckles as he approaches the newcomer.

You don’t know their name, you realize. You stopped bothering to learn the newcomer’s names given how little interaction you have with them. They’re nothing but faces to be forgotten about after they have spoken out of turn and met their end at the hands of the man standing with his chin held high.

“Is there something you’d like to say?”

Whatever boldness was previously etched into the face of the man kneeling before Suguru has very clearly disappeared but tension flares through the room regardless. You know that whatever choice he makes, however he chooses to deal with this foolish man, is exactly what he deserves. To spit in the face of God is bold and everyone has to learn their place eventually.

You certainly have.

“N-no, no. Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”

Suguru clicks his tongue, turning to face the rest of his family with his arms spread wide, face turned toward the ceiling. Your eyes are to be trained on the ground but you drink in the sight of him standing amongst the mortals who have always believed they know better than he does.

“What do you think I should do to the non-believer today?”

The question is rhetorical. At least, the silent room treats it that way, no one rushing to answer. Everyone knows to only speak when spoken to, even the inner circle who welcomed you years ago keep their foreheads pressed to the ground. He quietly pads through the crowd again, headed back toward you, and your eyes meet the ground swiftly to avoid being punished for looking at him out of turn.

“Look at me.”

Yours are the only pair of eyes he ever truly cares to have on him. Following the command, you glance up at him, remaining with your knees tucked beneath you and your hands folded in your lap. The way he looks down at you is as tender as he will ever get, even his softness is cold and harsh, but he speaks loudly enough that even the room behind him can hear that he values your opinion above the rest of them.

“What do you think I should do with him?”

Smiling back at him, your glassy eyes meet his and you say exactly what you know he wants to hear.

“Kill him, Suguru.”

Smirking, he reaches down to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb like he always does when you are performing as expected. It isn’t a performance anymore, if it ever was, it’s simply the way you feel when it comes to those who oppose him. He wags your head back and forth before dropping the touch completely, turning around and leaving you facing his back.

Your eyes dart toward the ground once more. You were not instructed to look at him.

Geto walks through the rows of people once more, reaching to touch the backs of each of their heads while he passes, finally stopping in front of his target. His hands rest in the opposite sleeve of each of them and he bends at the waist, offering the same smile he gives to all of his victims.

“Well, unfortunately, your fate has been chosen. You may as well speak now while you still have the chance.”

A curse materializes, brought to this realm by the man in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the ground while screams and the sound of the rending of flesh fill the congregation room.

You’ll only look up once you’re instructed, as always.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #kendall writes

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inhonoredglory · 1 year

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Good Omens Season 3: Heaven and Hell dividing humanity; humanity as Leviathan; and Aziraphale locking the doors of Heaven and throwing away the key [A Meta]

(This meta is long, but I swear there's some good stuff in here. It took me 2 months to get it together for these two longsuffering Anons. Thank you so much for asking me these very important questions.)

In preparation for answering two Asks above (and to aid my own predictions of Good Omens 3), I read and reviewed the Book of Revelation, W.B. Yeat’s iconic poem “The Second Coming,” Terry Pratchett’s Small Gods, Neil Gaiman’s deleted scene from American Gods (Shadow meeting Jesus in America), and Doctor Who showrunner Russell T Davies’ 2003 miniseries The Second Coming (starring Christopher Eccleston!). The first two are definitely going to be referenced in season 3, Davies’ show is one of the few stories dealing head-on with the coming of Christ, and Terry and Neil’s bibliographies are probably the biggest resources for how Season 3 will shake out thematically.

🕊 How Aziraphale Will Change Heaven

I think GO s3 is the season we see Aziraphale really come into his own, when we see him implement the moral vision he’s taken this long to coalesce, when all the pieces he and Crowley have put together are finally put on stage in a terrifying, beautiful display (all that righteous anger and conviction, merged with his kindness and empathy is going to be Something Else).

There’s an angel in the Book of Revelation who stands between the Earth and the Sea. This angel wears a rainbow halo and speaks with the voice of seven thunders, and yet John (the writer of Revelation) is told not to write down what this angel speaks. (Sounds like someone has hit on the Ineffable Plan?) If Neil and Terry were going to pick up an image from Revelation for Aziraphale, I really like this one, because it feels like an intermediary role (between two Sides), one that god dare not make public because it speaks an uncomfortable truth. And it’s about speaking and revealing knowledge, instead of fighting or destroying something.

Because even though we know Azi and Crowley will fight to stop the second End Times, fighting itself is not a theme Neil Gaiman or Terry Pratchett really champion. Instead of war, Aziraphale will oppose Heaven in all the little ways he and Crowley opposed it before: By enjoying human comforts (Azi will definitely bring food and trinkets to Heaven and send scrivener angels and seraphim alike to tour earth). By asking questions (Heaven’s new suggestion box). By telling stories about humanity and why it’s important to know who these humans are before anyone kills anybody (Azi was, after all, brought on board because of his human expertise).

Aziraphale will become what Crowley wanted to be before the Fall, but Azi’s got the benefit of thousands of years of knowledge, cunning, and intelligence about how both Heaven and humanity work. He knows Heaven’s weaknesses, he knows humanity’s strengths, he knows his own capabilities, and he knows where Heaven will turn a blind eye. He’s going to be such a bastard the likes of which we’ve never seen. And he’s going to drop truth bombs like there’s no tomorrow.

Season 2 brought back the book banter about “the lower you start, the more opportunities you have.”

Season 3 will bring back Aziraphale’s most badass book moment. This scene takes place after Azi possesses an American televangelist talking about the fire and brimstone of the End Times and the Rapture (the mass teleporting of all worthy believers to Heaven). Says Aziraphale,

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Aziraphale is fed up with Heaven’s hypocrisy and he's scathing in his condemnation of both Heaven and Hell. Everyone will die and become collateral damage, no matter which side is doing the killing.

Sound familiar?

That's the arc Aziraphale is heading towards: that blazing conviction of Crowley's, spoken out loud and fearless and in spite of his eons of trauma. And Season 3 will see Aziraphale get to that place, where he gets to tell off Heaven, but not just in the privacy of the bookshop or the bandstand, but to their faces in Heaven's hallowed halls.

The demons and angels in Season 2 were much less icky and ethereal (respectively) from their appearances in Season 1. Because it's working towards a further humanization of both sides in Season 3. Because one of the biggest themes in s3 will be Aziraphale humanizing Heaven in all the little quaint ways he loves humanity. All in preparation for the endgame of Heaven and Hell not existing at all.

(Season 3 deep dive continues under the cut...)

Because angels and demons won’t be fought, but changed. Maybe not by much, but just enough to break the loyalty they have to a Great Plan no one understands. This is how both Neil’s American Gods and Terry’s Small Gods conclude, with the build-up to an incredible battle, and then for the human hero to step in and talk down the gods and armies into seeing sense and reason.

I don’t think Aziraphale himself will be that person. It might be a very human Jesus. Or (more likely) a random human being caught up in this craziness (maybe someone in Tadfield, per the working title of the second GO book: 668: The Neighbor of the Beast). But Aziraphale will be fundamental in changing the atmosphere of Heaven in the little ways Earth changed him.

🗝 Season 3 Themes: Morality and God

In the Job minisode, Aziraphale casually but boldly assumed that god didn’t want the goats and children to be killed. Because Aziraphale has a firm and dogged idea about what god should be. It’s his own personal morality, but he calls it god’s because he doesn’t want to imagine the symbol of ultimate goodness being anything other than what he Aziraphale himself feels to be true.

And I don’t think that’s a theme that Good Omens will deny for Aziraphale. Because it’s not really about how evil or good god is. It doesn’t matter what god thinks or is. god doesn’t answer questions, doesn’t deliver messages we can understand, doesn’t show up when needed. god is inscrutable, shifty, absent, “a Dealer who won’t tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.”

What’s important is what humanity has done with god, what humanity has said about god, what they do in god’s name, what they interpret god to be. That’s the real danger.

And Aziraphale, in his profound goodness, will become the person he wants god to be. Because that’s the injunction we all have. To live up to the ideal we have made for ourselves: In many ways, that’s what god is.

Aziraphale is now in a privileged place that allows him to affect basically the entirety of Creation with that driving idealism. He will level the playing field in Heaven. I firmly believe Aziraphale will be the one to close the doors to the pearly gates and throw away the key.

So, like you asked Anon, will Aziraphale try to make Heaven better or stop the Second Coming? I think those are the same goal. Changing Heaven will fundamentally change how the Second Coming happens, because just like the End Times in Season 1, Heaven and Hell’s scheme will be turned on its head because the Chosen One refuses to follow the script.

The Second Coming will end, not with a bang, but a whimper, because everyone decides to turn in their guns and forget the whole thing.

⚔️ Heaven and Hell v. Humanity

But before that ending happens, I think there will be another threat the world has to face: the individuals who are so sure of their own righteousness that no amount of sense could stop them from destroying anyone who thinks differently. This is an important theme in both Neil and Terry’s works (see Vorbis, the Exquisitor in Small Gods, who tortured unbelievers for the Church), and I believe it will show up in the new season.

There's never been a true war that wasn't fought between two sets of people who were certain they were in the right. The really dangerous people believe they are doing whatever they are doing solely and only because it is without question the right thing to do. And that is what makes them dangerous. –Neil Gaiman, American Gods

Because it’s humanity who takes Faith and shapes it into Religion. We are the ones who created the Heaven we see in GO: cold, unfeeling, strict, judgmental. And I think Season 3 is going to address this fundamental belief of both Neil and Terry: that humans are just so damnably human (fundamentally innocent and stupid and wonderful) and yet there’s a few of us who will take things too far and think that Someone wants them to destroy everything in the Name of God. And in these changing contemporary political times (the passage of an old generation, still clinging to their old ways and growing more extreme by the minute *cough*Trump*cough*), the dangerous people become even more vocal and violent, like the frightening, monstrous creature in WB Yeats’ poem “The Second Coming,” a devastating scourge on the world born in the name of God:

Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. […] A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, […] And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? –WB Yeats, "The Second Coming"

That’s who I think the Metatron will team up with in the end, someone like Vorbis. Because we’ve already seen how petty and small Heaven and Hell is, especially in Season 2. Only the Metatron really carries some heft and foreboding. I believe he’ll team up with some extremist faction of humanity who wants to see the End of Days and divide the world into Yours and Mine, with Heaven taking a portion and Hell taking a third and calling it a day. Not a War, but a divvying out of souls. With no consent or permission on the part of humanity.

That’s what I think the zombie reference is all about. Like Gabriel said in 2x03:

Yes, we’re going to get zombies. And it’s going to be insane and funny and horrifying (and I think we’ll get to know one or two historical figures who pop back up to earth). But the thematic and fundamental metaphor of zombies is how they have no free will. They’re not alive, they have no souls, they have no choices. That’s what Heaven and Hell want humanity to be: To do away with the dance of choice and free will and divide humanity once and for all between both sides. That’s how Heaven and Hell team up against the human race.

🐳 Leviathan (Job 41:19) as Humanity

And that’s how I believe the Leviathan fits in, who is the subject of the quote from Muriel’s matchbox:

The Leviathan is a magnificent creature, and this passage goes on and on about how fearsome this being is:

Who can penetrate its double coat of armor? Who dares open the doors of its mouth, ringed about with fearsome teeth?… Nothing on earth is its equal—a creature without fear. It looks down on all that are haughty; it is king over all that are proud –Job 41:13b, 33-34

And yet why does god want to explain how amazing the Leviathan is? To show how god has control of it. God says,

Can you pull in Leviathan with a fishhook… Can you make a pet of it like a bird or put it on a leash for the young women in your house?… Can you fill its hide with harpoons… No one is fierce enough to rouse it. Who then is able to stand against me? –Job 41:1, 5, 7, 10

The reasoning is that because god created this dangerous and terrifying being, then god must be even more dangerous and terrifying. And if god can so easily abuse and humiliate this beautiful monster, then god must be worshipped and respected. (Yes, it’s as messed-up as it sounds.)

I can’t help but think of this Leviathan as a metaphor for humanity. A beautiful, ferocious being whose ownership and control is the focus of god’s attention and qualification for worship? Of the Leviathan, Job says: “Will traders barter for it? Will they divide it up among the merchants?” (Job 41:6). That’s how humanity is going to be treated in Season 3.

Because both God and Satan want to control humanity. They want to put their thumb on human souls and claim them for each side. But humanity doesn’t have to be so easily fooled, because we are more powerful than we realize. Our hearts and imaginations can forge a path of purpose and goodness without the entrapment of organized religion and fundamentalism. We, like Leviathan, are ferocious and angry and fed up with being treated like this. We can and will fight back.

🌟 Becoming Gods

Ultimately, we will shuffle off the need for Heaven and Hell (symbolized by the shutting down of both at the end of Season 3). We will lose the need to unquestionably defer to a Being who plays dice with our lives. I’m reminded of the opening passage to Terry’s Small Gods:

The lowly tortoise will learn to be the eagle; humanity will learn to be like god. Because we are as powerful as god, since we created god. Adam Young pointed out that having a god figure to solve all our problems doesn’t make humanity any more responsible for the evil things we’ve done. We need to learn that we are all we’ve got, and we have to answer for the shit we’ve done to each other and to the world.

I like how Russell T Davies put it in his show The Second Coming, where Jesus comes down again in the body of ordinary human Steven Baxter and tells humanity:

You are becoming gods. There's a new master of creation, and it's you! Unraveled DNA, and at the same time you're cultivating bacteria strong enough to kill every living thing! Do you think you are ready for that much power? You lot? You lot? Cheeky bastards. You're running around science like kids with guns, creating a new world, while the world you've got is stinking…. If you want the position of god then take the responsibility. –Russell T Davies, The Second Coming

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I legitimately think that’s how Jesus in Good Omens 3 will come down. In the body of a regular 30-something off-the-streets guy, who thinks the pomp and circumstance made about him is insane. And Aziraphale will be his minder, trying to tell him how the whole scheme is supposed to play out and giving him wise asides on how warped Heaven’s standards are and trying to tell him how to go about changing things for the better. (Jesus will be terribly confused, meanwhile; he just wants to go out for a pint and get on with his human life, none of this god business.)

🐍 Crowley’s Growth

There will be some big things at play in Season 3. I think Aziraphale will change how Heaven operates and close Heaven for good. I think Aziraphale will initially try to get Jesus on board with Azi’s own private mission of Goodness. I actually think Crowley will end up becoming Aziraphale’s “back channels” to Earth, and they’d exchange trite, bantering messages about the state of affairs from secret rendezvous points in America. (There was a whole thing about Jesus getting lost in Times Square, according to Neil Gaiman.)

I think Crowley will learn how to trust Aziraphale and learn that doing the right thing means being brave and selfless. He’ll realize that humanity is worth saving, even if it means dying. In fact, his depression at the start of Season 2 will probably only get worse after the loss of Aziraphale, and his altruism might get colored by the taint of suicidal recklessness, because he might as well go out for what he believes in, if what he wanted most in the world chose being selfless over being with him. (If Crowley’s character takes a suicidal turn like the Tenth Doctor after losing Rose, I’m gonna scream.)

This is how Aziraphale helps Crowley be brave in the finale of the Good Omens book. That’s what I think will happen in Good Omens 3:

Aziraphale here displays a gentleness and kindness that comes from a place of grounded knowledge and responsibility. He knows how much he and Crowley have in their own ways fucked up humanity too, and he knows that no matter what their own personal feelings, they each need to do something to defend the human species they've come to love so much.

Crowley is scared of risking everything to help save humanity, but with Aziraphale's encouragement and wisdom, he realizes that doing the right thing is the only option he can choose, no matter the risk to his own happiness and safety.

So I believe Crowley will learn to understand why Aziraphale chose to return to Heaven and fight in the trenches. Crowley will see it as a choice made to save, not just each other, but the world they love so much.

Ultimately, I think Crowley on earth will take on Aziraphale’s strongest qualities: being selfless and bold to protect humanity at costs, and connecting to humanity on a personal, individual level.

While Aziraphale in Heaven will become like Crowley: asking questions, sabotaging the System, and condemning Heaven with all the uncomfortable truths they need to hear.

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aziraphales-library · 3 months

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Hi! All of you do fantastic work! Do you have any fics with like magical curses and true loves kiss? I don’t really care about rating. Thank you again!!

Hello! You can fics along these kinds of lines on our #fantasy au tag. Here are some curse/true love's kiss specific fics...

The Fairy Prince, the Toad and the Snake by KannaOphelia (T)

Aziraphale supposed it was interesting that his flaming sword still managed to flame while underwater, but there were better ways to find out than dropping it down a well. He craned over the side and gazed down, seeing the glimmers of red and orange, far beyond his reach. "You've done it now," said the snake, watching him from the apple tree. "I suppose I have, yes." Aziraphale wondered if he could hook a rope around it or something, and draw it up. He wasn't quite sure how it would work. "Bound to happen," the snake said, not unkindly. "Don't want to go waving a big killing thing like that around. Sssssupposed to be a weapon." A Good Omens retelling of The Frog Prince, for Fairy Tale Inspired 2021

Fairest by lilliankayl (T)

(Snow White Retelling AU) Aziraphale has no memories of his father and very few of his mother. His father died when he was an infant and his mother remarried shortly afterwards. When his mother died just before his seventeenth birthday, his stepfather’s true colors were revealed. Now on the run and taking shelter from those who will help him, Aziraphale must never let the king find him, for it will surely mean his death if he is found.

The Dragon's Greatest Treasure by Sir_Bear (T)

Once upon a time, the kingdom of Eden was protected by the eternal knights. One of these ageless warriors, the healer Raphael, disappeared hundreds of years ago after saving Sir Aziraphale’s life. Now, while escorting prince Gabriel across the kingdom, Aziraphale is captured by the dragon Crowley. The two begin to fall in love, but can a relationship like their's work, when all Crowley sees himself as is a monster, and Aziraphale feels bound by his duty to the knights? *** He shrugged his scaly shoulders, his eyes looking about as if trying to find a change of topic. “Didn’t you have a magic sword?” “Uh…” “You did, you were waving it about and everything. What happened to it?” Aziraphale’s throat made a croaking noise, unwilling to answer. “Lost it already have you?” “Gave it away…” He muttered, despite himself. “You what?” Crowley’s golden eyes went wide, tilting his huge head to the side. “They’d be in danger without it!” He burst out. “There are dangerous creatures out there, not to mention you!”

A Demon's Guide to Love and Curses by cyankelpie (G)

(Crowley has been cursed by a witch, cut off from his powers, and trapped in serpent form. Only a True Love’s Kiss can restore him to his former self. There’s just one problem: demons can’t fall in love.) “So what’s your plan?” Crowley said at last, sounding resigned. “You want me to ssslither into town, find some random human, and see if I can fall in love with them? And get them to fall for me?” “Goodness, no. That would never work.” Aziraphale crossed the floor and pulled his cloak off the coat stand. “My plan is to take you into town, and then, together, we’ll find someone for you to court.”

(Someday I'll Be) Part of Your World by Pearl09 (T)

Aziraphale is a merman who likes human things a little too much. Crowley is a human who just wants to leave the awful place he’s at. A chance meeting, a surprising rescue, lead to more than the two of them ever imagined. Would they truly risk their own souls to be with each other? And, more importantly, will they meet the necessary requirements on time to keep them? A Little Mermaid au/fusion featuring two pining idiots.

hearts and thoughts fade away (I swear I recognize your breath) by Melime (M)

Due to a clerical error, Crowley is cursed by Hell, losing his memories of the past six thousand years. Now, Aziraphale has to regain his trust and find a way to cure him, but the only way to do this is by confronting his own prejudices regarding demons' capacity to love.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #fantasy au #true love's kiss #fairytale #mod d

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downbaddetective · 7 days

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I'm finally coming back to one of my previous posts. (Thank you to @m-eowdy for the reminder to finish the thought. I'm sorry if it's a little disappointing after the wait.)

Specifically these two shots of Edwin being completely covered in our two most important colors, because the symbolism here is significant to me.

I lost the original thoughts that I had (unfortunately migraines make me forget things) and by the time I was feeling kind of okay I knew that there were things I wanted to say but couldn't remember how. So, instead, I sat and rewatched the show, taking notes so that I could make sure that I wasn't making anything up.

So, color symbolism in this show is so stupidly important, and it's called out by characters in universe (thank you, Niko). We obviously see our characters in their colors, Edwin in blue, Charles in red, Crystal in purple, and Niko in pink. But it's also not that cut and dry. Edwin, in all reality, is very grey, Crystal wears a lot of different colors, and so does Niko. Obviously, part of that is because the girls aren't dead and have to change their clothes, but the colors that are worn are still significant to their state of mind and the events happening around them. With Edwin and Charles, it's very similar, though a little different. Charles' red gets darker as he is more and more affected by what happens at the Devlin house. Edwin, though, barely shows his blues most of the time, but when he becomes vulnerable, he sheds his grey layers, and we see it a lot more.

Now, I think that it's worth mentioning that Edwin and Charles swap their afterlife colors, so when they look at each other, they see their afterlife. The red and blue also give us clues as to things that they're hiding. Red being often associated with anger and blue with sadness. That being said, I'm now getting to the symbolism in the fact that Edwin is one of two* characters to be washed in both hell's red and death's (heaven's?) blue like this.

Edwin's entire journey is kind of impeded by the fear of getting caught by the afterlife and being sent back to hell. Red is his constant source of fear, hell being the biggest example, but Charles in his red is also the cause of Edwin's issues. Charles is the reason why both the Cat King and Monty have some type of red associated with them during interactions with Edwin. These colors are omens for Edwin. Charles essentially shared his blue afterlife light with him. They were meant to be detectives together, and that's where it all starts, right there in that attic. The red, on the other hand, is indicative of the bullshitery that is incoming, including the worst-case scenario, aka BEING DRAGGED BACK TO HELL. RIGHT THERE. IN THE APARTMENT THAT THEY GO LOOK AT RIGHT AFTER THIS. (Even though it is definitely at least partially his own darn fault.) The fact that we see these two scenes out of order also indicates that by the end of it all Edwin has overcome the previously stated bullshitery. We see Edwin interact with these two colors as a collective much more in the show, and it's seems it's because this was Edwin's time to learn and grow, and I suspect that if we get a season two at some point, we will see that flip so that Charles can have his turn.

All in all, I am absolutely in love with the colors in this show and I will probably have more to say later but I wanted to finish at least this part of the color analysis so that I could have a resolution to the previous post. I don't think I was able to recover all of my original thoughts about the significance of these two, but I think I got a pretty good chunk of it. I do want to say that I've seen the other color analyses floating around. I will be taking a look at some point, but before doing my own, I will be avoiding them for now because I want to write about my own perception rather than accidentally just stealing other peoples work.

(* Ngl, a little worried about Jenny if we ever see a season two)

#color symbolism #color analysis #that shit slaps #i'm an artist i think i'm obligated to be obsessed with colors #somebody watch jenny please #i'm a little worried about her if we see her again #i'm sorry this took a month #i am an unwell person unfortunately #edwin payne #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbda #save dead boy detectives #renew dead boy detectives #renew dbda #revive dead boy detectives #rewatch dead boy detectives

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edosianorchids901 · 8 months

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Learning to Live

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "group hug"

Aziraphale tried very hard not to let out any audible noises as the tears fell. He didn’t feel entirely self conscious about the tears. It had been an awfully difficult day, after all, and he’d learned long ago that sometimes it was necessary just to cry for a few seconds before getting back to work.

But while he felt a bit like sobbing for a longer length of time, he refused to allow himself that much loss of control. It would make Crawley feel as if he needed to extend comfort, for one thing, and that would hardly be fair. His silent companionship was kindness enough.

And quite remarkable, at that. Aziraphale marveled at it, which proved a very nice distraction from his guilt. Crawley had come out here to sit with him, to ensure he was okay. And he’d stayed.

He’d broken Aziraphale’s fall, really. Softened the landing. And now, the world didn’t feel nearly as overwhelming, the consequences as dire. It was almost too good to be true.

“Did you mean it?” Aziraphale asked.

Crawley didn’t look at him, still just gazing steadily over the water. “Hmm?”

“That I wouldn’t like Hell. I-I mean, it’s Hell. I don’t suppose anyone is supposed to like it.” Was that rude? Aziraphale was a bit too rattled to be sure. “What I mean is… does it really matter to you, what I like?”

“Nh.” Crawley gave a tiny shrug. “Wouldn’t have encouraged you to eat if I didn’t think you’d enjoy it.”

“I did enjoy it.” So much more than he would have ever expected. Oh, he’d been curious about food, but he never thought he’d get the chance to sample some. “But do you really expect me to believe that the only reason you tempted—er, that you encouraged—me to try the food is that you thought I’d enjoy it? No nefarious motives?”

Crawley gave another tiny shrug. “‘Course I had nefarious motives. Everything I do is nefarious.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, unconvinced by that. Crawley was quite excellent at playing the evil demon—but he wasn’t evil, not at all. “Was your nefarious motive, perhaps, related to wanting someone to share a ‘meal’ with?”

That got a reaction, albeit a subtle one. Crawley’s eyes darted to him for just a second. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Aha! I knew it.” Aziraphale found himself smiling, and feeling much less alone than he had a mere handful of minutes ago. And suddenly quite daring. “Would, um… would you by any chance be interested in doing it again? I was thinking, I never did try the wine…”

That got a full reaction. Crawley twisted to look at him, eyes wide behind the dark glasses. “Are you sure you’re ready for that, angel? Source of drunkenness and all that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s only troublesome when consumed in excess.” Aziraphale tilted his head, trying his best to appear as if conflicted. Important to keep up the pretense, rather than to admit he’d quite happily do anything if it meant spending more time with Crawley. “It’s not strictly forbidden for angels to drink…”

“There you are, then.” Crawley gave a tempting little side to side sway. Aziraphale strongly suspected that the tempting was as much an act as his own reticence. They might have rather more in common than he’d initially assumed. “Let’s go. I know a little tavern that serves terrific cocktails, has good wine, and loads of different things to nibble.”

“Well, I suppose I can hardly resist an offer like that.” Aziraphale rose, and found that he was suddenly rather tired. Crawley too, moved slowly. Perhaps they were both a bit worn down by all that had happened. It would be nice to get away from here.

“Are you leaving, Bildad?”

Crawley jumped at the sudden call, and Aziraphale touched his arm lightly in reassurance before turning towards the girl. “Ah, Jemimah! Lovely to see you, my dear. Yes, Bildad and I are both off to… to…”

“Turn more people into animals?” Jemimah asked eagerly, looking at Crawley with wide eyes. “Can you do me again?”

A little smile tugged at Crawley’s lips. “Sorry, all out of time for changing people into animals today. My friend and I are on our way to cause chaos elsewhere.”

“You’re causing chaos,” Aziraphale corrected. “I’m merely… um…”

Friend. My friend and I.

Crawley considered him a friend? The thought of having a friend was so shocking that it left Aziraphale utterly speechless.

Crawley lifted an eyebrow. When Aziraphale just kept gaping at him, he turned back to Jemimah. “Right, so. See you around, kid. Keep making cool pots.”

He tried to step around her, and she blocked him. “You have to hug me,” she declared with a bright smile. “Both of you. Hugs are really important to keep everyone happy.”

“Oh, are they?” Aziraphale asked faintly. Perhaps that was what was wrong with him so often. He’d never been hugged before.

“Yep! Group hug!” She held her arms out.

Crawley took a step back. “No. Nonono. Demons don’t do hugs.”

“They’re important for happiness,” Aziraphale said, giving a little pout. An almost tempting pout, really. “And you wouldn’t want to disappoint the child, would you? Or me?”

Irritation tugged at the lines of Crawley’s face, and he hissed. But nevertheless, he stepped closer again. “Okay. Fine. Just make it quick.”

“Yay!” Jemimah threw her arms around both of them, hugging them close. Aziraphale instinctively curled an arm around her, then gave Crawley an inquisitive look.

Crawley still looked as if about to flee. But he gulped and reached out, briefly touching both Aziraphale and the child. Aziraphale put an arm around him too, and beamed.

“Right.” Letting go after a mere few seconds, Crawley wriggled out of the hug. “Let’s go. Come on, angel.”

“That was lovely, dear. Thank you.” Aziraphale smiled at Jemimah, and she giggled. “Bye, now.”

“Bye!” She waved to them both, and took off.

Aziraphale gave Crawley a sly look, enjoying the consternation on his face. “So. It seems demons do hug.”

“Oh, shut up.” Crawley set off, and Aziraphale fell in step beside him. “Just for that, I really am gonna get you drunk tonight.”

“You’ll have to do much better than that to tempt me, you old serpent.”

But not much more, really. Being tempted was really quite fun, and Aziraphale thought he might be able to get rather used to it. And perhaps, he could even get used to having a friend.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #jemimah #art #ace omens hugfest 2024

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collapsedglasshouses · 8 months

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PLEASE SHUT UP || Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader [Part One]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @saradika-graphics

PICTURE FOUND ON PINTEREST

REQUEST [by @yumikitten]: I'm just gonna keep on this Ruffilo train if everyone is okay with it. Ahem. What if Y/N and Nicholas got into a fight? Something that really made them snap and started yelling at each other, saying things they weren't really meaning? It could also just be something super silly tbh. We've all been there. 😅 But Nick finally gets suuuuper tired of screaming at each other and just kisses her to shut her up, which then leads to makeup sex. 😉 I could see him spitefully telling her at some point that he's gonna have to remember this if it got her to shut up so quickly. 🤣 Please don't feel obligated. 😁 My mind is just going zoom. 💕

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, I'M DEEPLY SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG. I had a severe writers block over the last couple of months and couldn't bring myself to work on requests. As compensation i have decided to make a two-parter out of the request. The setting is a maybe a bit different than expected but I hope you like it anyways! Part Two will hopefully be posted soon! ♡♡♡

WARNINGS: angst, cursing, fear of failure, fighting, small room, ... (let me know if i missed something)

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit (Let me know if you wanna be added to my general taglist!)

Ever since Y/n had been a child, she was surrounded by music. Her dad was the guitarist of a local rock band and her mom had been playing the violin since forever.

She remembered clearly how her mother had told her that one of the first things she did as a child was smash hey tiny little hands onto the piano that stood in the family’s living room.

As Y/n grew older, her taste in music also changed. Even though she had been learning to play the piano since the age of just four, she noticed how her taste shifted from soft and classical music to later pop and then heavier stuff.

Maybe it had been some kind of rebellion in her teenage years, maybe it had been her father’s taste in music that influenced her or maybe it was her first ever boyfriend who introduced her to Bring Me The Horizon, when she was just fourteen. All Y/n knew, was that she soon found herself sucked into the world of metal and metal core.

It was no shock to anyone close to her, when she was hired to play the keyboard in a band called Bad Omens.

She had met Noah through mutual friends while gaming during the pandemic and they soon became close friends. The band had been working on their third album back than and though it sounded more than good when Y/n first listened to it, Noah thought something was missing. That was when Y/n came into the picture. She had delivered them some parts that amazed the boys so much that they offered her a place in the band. She had gladly accepted it.

Since than the band had been thriving. From tours all over the world, making Y/n travel to parts of the world she had only imagined as a child, to streaming records that made her dad jump in excitement, every time she visited her hometown. Everything was going well for the band.

For Y/n in particular though, nothing was well. Nothing had been like she hoped it would be. While she had grown close to three of her bandmates, one seemingly hated her guts without explanation.

At first, Nick and she had gotten along quite well. She remembered nights where they sat outside and chatted about the most random things while seemingly not getting enough of each other’s presence.

But over time, things had changed. First, he started to distance himself to the point where it couldn’t be called anything but avoidance. Soon, the complaining began. He began to roll his eyes when she said something that made the others laugh. He started making snarky side comments every time she did something slightly different in her performance. Nothing Y/n did was good enough in Nick’s eyes and hell did it annoy her.

She couldn’t wrap her head around what she did to him to make him act that way towards her, considering she was the only one that suffered under his behavior. With everyone else, he was an angel on earth. Always sweet and caring.

Even though she missed the time where Nick acted like that with her, she began to mirror his demeanor. She began to criticize him just as much as he did with her. She was so fed up that she even started to loathe the time she needed to spend with him in one room.

Saying that was difficult was an understatement. Everyone noticed how they started to act and soon the mood started to deteriorate because of their behavior.

But the breaking point was only yet to come.

The stage was set, the lights were dimmed, and the crowd buzzed with anticipation. The band was about to kick of another concert on their tour and Y/n could feel the familiar hum of excitement and nervous energy that waved through the packed room. This was nothing new for Y/n, yet tonight was different. There was an additional weight pressing on her tense shoulders – the intense gaze of Nick, whose eyes seemed to bore into her from across the stage.

As Y/N's fingers glided over the keys, she couldn't shake the feeling that every note she played was being criticized. She stole a glance in Nick's direction, only to find his expression unreadable, yet filled with an intensity that made her uneasy. The rhythmic thump of the bass only increased her anxiety, and the once effortless connection she felt with the music began to waver.

In the midst of a song, Nick shot her a look so disapproving, Y/N lost it. She stumbled over a chord, the crooked sound echoing through the venue. Panic set in as she struggled to regain her composure. She knew the crowd hadn’t noticed but for her it was a disaster. For the rest of their set, her heart seemingly jumped out of her chest in a mix of fury and anxiety. Nick's disapproving glares persisted, each one a sharp stab at Y/N's confidence. The usually seamless collaboration between band members now felt like pure pain to Y/n. All she did for the rest of the evening was desperately trying to avoid the heavy judgment of Nick’s eyes.

As their performance ended, Y/n felt empty. Heavy tension lingered in the air when they went backstage to compliment each other on another successful concert, but Y/n couldn’t bring herself to feel good. She fucked up bad and only because Nick couldn’t stop with his childish behavior.

After Noah and Jolly comforted her for a second, she came to a stand in front of the bassist. The rest of the guys walked away to calm down, while Y/n’s eyes bore into Nick’s.

Without even thinking, she dragged him into a small room filled with technical stuff.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/n?” Nick protested as she closed the door behind them.

“What the fuck I’m doing? Could you tell me what the fuck your problem is, Nick?” She shouted at him, not holding back one bit.

“I did nothing.” He quickly defended himself and wanted to grab the door handle, but Y/n walked between him and the exit.

“Keep your fucking judgement to yourself next time.” She warned him and looked into his blue eyes. The rage that fumed inside of her quickly caught up to him.

“Maybe don’t fuck up your notes next time.” He hissed at her.

In the dimly lit room, Y/N couldn't hold back her frustration any longer. "Nick, you can't just keep brushing off my opinions about fucking everything!"

Nick's eyes flashed with irritation. "Well, maybe if you understood music better, your opinions would matter."

The words hung in the air, heavy with tension, as Y/N shot back, "You know, not everyone worships your bass lines, dickhead!"

“Oh, come on, are we this low now?” Nick mocked her and tried to get out of the room again.

“I’m not letting you get out of this room until you finally tell me what the fuck I did to you, Nick.” She fumed at him, her back now pressed against the door.

As the argument escalated; Y/n trying to get answers, Nick trying to avoid the talk; both felt a surge of anger and hurt. But suddenly, Nick, became quiet, took a step forward, his eyes meeting Y/N's defiant gaze.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” – “What?”

Before Y/n could react, Nick grabbed her face and, with an unexpected intensity, kissed her. Time seemed to stand still as Y/n noticed what was happening. She was confused but at the same time she couldn’t bring herself to push him off her. Her eyes fluttered shut as another feeling entered her.

Need.

A feeling she had been suppressing since the second he became cold towards her. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he pressed her firmly against the door. It was a kiss full of anger, frustration but also passion as Nick devoured her lips. Soon he travelled down to her neck and even though a small Parton her was still furious about his action, she definitely needed him more than anything in this moment. He bit her exposed skin, not caring a single second about the marks he was leaving on her as she whimpered in pure bliss. When she tugged at Nick’s hair, he softly moaned against her neck, signaling her she wasn’t alone with her thoughts.

Right as his hands started to travel down her shirt, she remembered what was going on and grabbed his wrist.

A stunned silence enveloped them, broken only by Y/n’s words as they looked into each other’s eyes. "You can't just kiss me to end an argument!"

Nick looked at her with wide blown pupils. It looked like he tried to find his words, but nothing came out.

“Oh look at you, now you can’t even talk to me anymore.” Y/n mocked him with hate in her voice, before she pushed him away from her. She left the room with agony.

She hated Nick for making this whole thing even more confusing than it already was. But she knew one thing.

This was never happening again…

PART TWO COMING SOON

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo x reader #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo x reader #nick ruffilo fic #bad omens rpf #collapsedglasshouseswrites

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obbystars · 16 days

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Farewell to All the Earthly Remains

Synopsis: He loved them. That’s why he had to make this decision no matter how much it hurt. It was for the better. This was how it should’ve been.

Notes: OC-insert / Pressure OC / Oberon Sol x GN!Reader / can’t believe i wrote that… / pre-pressure Oberon / talk about death / fluff leading to angst, no happy ending / reader is dying, cause is left open for interpretation / some scenes are based on recent game stuff I’ve been doing on roblox / if anyone knows what the title is referencing ily forever / oberon lore!

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(here’s the oberon x reader i promised you 😭😭 i cant believe im doing this but hey, oberon lore and you get to know a little more about him so win i guess. i have been wanting to write more for him tbh. i don’t think i’ll put him on the list since he’s like… my oc, yknow? i think it’ll be more of like a treat? not everyone knows who he is so yeah.)

Every now and then, there was a young man who’d sit on the bench by the tree as a crow or two had hung around him. Sometimes there were three, sometimes four. He seemed to always have food for them, and every time, not a moment too soon, the crows would be there waiting for him. Then, while the crows went on about their day, he’d simply people-watch his time away.

He’d almost never actually speak to anyone who passed by unless they spoke to him first. Sometimes, those people scared off the crows, but sometimes they stayed. Sometimes the children who pass by want to play with the crows, and he’d have to tell them how they should handle them. Sometimes, people would observe from afar. They would admire, question, maybe even feel a little uncomfortable knowing what crows tend to represent.

A bad omen. An impending change. An unexpected change. Death.

Maybe sometimes it looked a little unsettling, but that didn’t seem to stop you from watching from afar. Every time he was there, whether alone or someone had him preoccupied, you’d watch him and try to build up your courage to talk to him.

You slowly approached him from behind, but you didn’t get very close as the man turns around and crows suddenly flew away. Only now did you realize his eyes are red. His eyes had widened and looked back to the crows. A part of him seemed a bit startled and sad that the crows left.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare them off,” you quickly apologized.

When he looked back to you, he smiled, “It’s alright. They always come back anyway. They just need to get to know you, that’s all,”

You nervously laughed, “Is it alright if I sit with you?”

“Of course. I don’t mind at all. I don’t think they mind too much either,”

He’s referring to the crows. Either way, you were still nervous as you sat down next to him.

“I believe it is considered rude to sneak up on someone the way you did,” he suddenly adds.

You immediately tensed, “I-I didn’t mean to be rude! I just didn’t know how I should approach you and I’m honestly not very good at this kind of stuff and-!”

He laughs, cutting you off, “Please, don’t stress yourself over such things. I understand not everyone can start a conversation with a stranger, but maybe it’s not the best first impression, yes?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,”

“Let’s start over then. My name is Oberon,”

You looked at him and smiled, “[Name], it’s nice to meet you,”

At this point, one of the crows came back. It was like they were testing the waters and slowly walking closer. Then another came back, and then another.

“If you don’t mind me asking… Did you happen to be named after a moon?” You bring up to try and keep the conversation going. Although, maybe it wasn’t the best thing to bring up.

“Oh? Do you happen to be interested in astrology?”

“Yeah, kind of,”

“You’d be correct then. My name came from a moon of Uranus,”

More crows came back and both of your attentions had been redirected to them. Oberon seemed to have more food for them and began to give all of them their share. One of the crows eventually made their way up to his shoulder while another had went to perch on his hand. The others were either on the bench or interacting with each other on the grass.

“Did you name any of them?”

He lets out a faint laugh, “If I did, I would grow too attached to them. I figured it’d be best if I didn’t. They are still wild animals, after all,”

“That’s true. You can’t really cage a wild animal,” you continued to watch the crows seemingly all accept Oberon as one of their own.

It looked rather strange. It was like a variation of the ones who would be surrounded by pigeons.

…you feel so awkward. He was welcoming and didn’t mind company or a conversation, but it felt so difficult to talk to him. You kept your hands on your lap, completely tense. You dragged yourself into this, and it’d be even more awkward if you just decided to bail now. Maybe even embarrassing.

Oberon suddenly holds a few seeds to you, “Do you want to try feeding them?”

“H-Huh? Are you sure?”

“You’re tense. Maybe this can help you relax,”

You look at him for a moment, then down at the seeds. The crows already looked interested, but seeing as you were there too, they didn’t go for it. With a shaky hand, you accepted to try it.

“Take a deep breath and relax yourself,” he continues, “Avert your gaze, let the birds know you’re not a threat to them. They’ll know the food’s safe. They’ll warm up to you,”

You did as he said. You calmed yourself as you stared out towards the field. You can hear the crows making small noises. It was like they were discussing if they should trust you or not. You can see a crow in the corner of your eye inching closer and closer to your hand before it snatches up a seed and moves back.

It was silent, and then another decided to try it too.

“See? They’re not going to hurt you. They just want to talk,”

You blinked and turned to Oberon. He was talking to the crow on his hand. Before you knew it, the other crows had already taken all of the seeds you had. You did feel more relaxed, but they still seemed cautious about you. Trust with birds doesn’t come easy after all.

One had suddenly come up to your blind spot and cawed at you. When they see you jump slightly, it jumps off and onto the ground to join the others. It was like they were laughing. You can hear Oberon holding back his laughter, and you couldn’t help but laugh yourself.

The two of you would continue talking for a while. Time was practically lost. The crows would eventually start moving away, some even leaving. Oberon seems to take that as a sign and stands up.

“I suppose that’s time, then,”

“Off to do other stuff?”

“By stuff, it’s mostly work,” he admits, “Lots of work to do. This was just my own little break,”

You pulled out your phone to check the time, but then you hesitantly asked, “Do you think we can stay in contact? I’d love to talk more if that’s okay…?”

He looked at you with a surprised expression, but he still smiled, “I’d love that. Would same time tomorrow suffice?”

“Oh, yeah!” You nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, [Name],”

You watched him leave and observed the remaining crows who stayed behind. There was one who lingered closer to you and sort of pecked at your shoes. Maybe you’ll come here on your own time just for the birds as well.

You and Oberon have been meeting up quite frequently the past few weeks. Sometimes it was during his routine of feeding his corvids, while others were a bit sudden as you had run into each other. This time, you two ran into each other in a dessert buffet. It had just opened a few days ago and you found the time to have a look, and it seems like he had the same idea.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to be into sweets,”

“D-Do I really give off such an impression?” He stuttered, “I try to make it a habit to eat different kinds of food. I was hoping maybe this buffet could have something new,”

You smiled, “I think I heard they have quite a variety of treats. I wonder what kind of cake they have,”

“I’m hoping that they have a red velvet cake. I’ve never tried it before,”

“I’m pretty sure they do. I saw a video of someone reviewing it already which is why I even came here, actually,”

He turns to you with a smile, “Oh? Looks like you already know what’s in here,”

“Only a few things! Maybe they added new stuff? Even though it’s only been a few days…?”

“Only one way to find out, then,”

The two of you were given a table that was on the second floor which did give you a good view. Once that was settled, you were free to get whatever you’d like. There was a wide variety you could choose from. They even had some sandwiches you could choose. After a few minutes of deciding, your plate was filled with some of your favorites. The table was still empty when you came back. Looks like Oberon is still searching around, so you sit down and place your plate and cup of your preferred drink down. You didn’t get too much as you can always go back down to get more if you wanted to.

About a minute passes by and Oberon came back with two plates full of treats. He found the red velvet cake and cupcake, he had some eclairs, croissant, macarons… He might as well eat everything in this buffet.

“Wow. Didn’t think you’d REALLY love these,” you laughed.

His face turns red in embarrassment, “Everything looked so good! I couldn’t decide!”

You take another bite out of what you had picked up, “You can leave your plates here. I’ll watch ‘em while you get something to drink,”

“Thanks,”

He carefully places them down and almost runs back down the stairs. The sight of that was amusing, and looking at his plate… It’s taking all of your strength to not steal one of them. He won’t notice, right? Right?

No, no. That’s rude. He probably won’t be too happy about it. Who knows how he’d react? You looked away and continued eating your own to try and not think about it. It doesn’t take too long for him to return with a cup. You watched as sparkles seemingly appeared in his eyes as he ate. Hell, you swear you can see sparkles surrounding him.

Even after you got your second plate and finished what you had picked up, he pushed for a fourth plate to get whatever he hadn’t tried. It was pretty impressive to see he can eat that much, and it was nice to see such a happy look on his face. In the end, he seemed satisfied with the experience.

You two stayed to chat for a little while longer, even going back down to grab another drink. Oberon offered to pay when the topic of the bill came up and you didn’t mind, but you still felt like you could’ve at least paid for what you ate. He did get a lot to eat after all. Even if you offered to pay your share, he would’ve insisted he handle it.

You checked your phone for the time as Oberon offers to walk you home as it started to get dark, which you thanked him for. It also meant a little more time with him.

You lightly shoulder bumped him, “Did you have fun?”

“Of course I did,” he smiles, “The food was good, we had a very nice view… I had really fun with you,”

You tried not to blush at that comment, but you can already feel your cheeks heating up, “We should go together again some time. What do you think?”

“I’ll let you know whenever I can. Of course, as long as your schedule allows you to,”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me. I never asked what you do for work, so I hope you don’t mind me asking now,”

“Hm, what if I keep you in the dark there for now?”

“Sounds mysterious. Alright, fine,” you smile.

As you continued to walk, you notice that Oberon seems to like looking up at the stars. There wasn’t that many out tonight, but that didn’t stop him. Part of him looked a little sad though. You eventually pass by the graveyard your home happened to be close to and Oberon’s attention immediately shifted towards it. It was almost strange, but maybe he lost someone. You’re not one to pry.

He stopped walking all of a sudden, “Do you think those people were afraid?”

“Huh?” You stopped to turn to him, “Afraid of what?”

“Of dying. Were they scared in their final moments?”

You didn’t know what to say at first. As you looked to the countless tombstones that scattered across the field, that same question would repeat in your mind. Were they scared? Were their final moments filled with fear that they wouldn’t be at peace?

“I think… Some of them were. I mean, who wouldn’t be, right?” You hum, “But I also think some felt happy even in death,”

“Why’s that?” He questioned, his voice almost in a whisper.

“Maybe they were happy with how their life came out to be. Or maybe they were surrounded by family and knew they were the last ones they could see,”

Oberon is silent. You turn to him to see his sorrowful expression. It almost looked like he didn’t believe a word you just said, but he doesn’t speak of it.

You gently tug on his sleeve, “Oberon, are you… Afraid of death?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he quietly admits, “I’m just… I’m just confused. Even when you led a life you wanted to live, one where you accomplished everything you wanted to. Even when you’re surrounded by people who love you, wouldn’t you be at least a little afraid?”

You looked down, hesitating to hold his hand, “Yeah, maybe that’s how some felt deep down,”

“Do you believe there is an afterlife?”

“I like to think there is. I mean, that can’t be it, right? Our lives suddenly come to an end and suddenly there’s just…nothing?”

“Is that why some are afraid? There may just be nothing on the other side?”

You looked down, “Maybe, but I don’t think they thought of that even in their final moments,”

“…I hope you’re right,”

Both of you continued to stare at the graveyard in silence. You really do wonder why he brought that up.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought up such a topic. Come on, we’re almost there, right?”

“Oh, yeah,”

For the rest of the way, you two walk side by side and in silence. He would walk you to your door, say good night and goodbye, and you’d watch him disappear into the dark through your window. Something about him was strange, but strange in a rather interesting way. You wonder if the feeling is mutual.

When you awoke, you were… in your room. It was just as you had left it. Was that a dream? A very, very long dream that felt all too real? You leaned forward as you gently rubbed your head. It was such an odd dream, yet with the remaining moments of what you remember from it, you can’t help but feel warm all of a sudden.

That man you’ve been meeting with. He was sweet, gentle, and patient. He loved the bakery you invited him to. He loved crows and fed them whenever he could. His view on death was… interesting. He was afraid. He was confused when others didn’t seem to be afraid of their end and rather embraced it. Had he lost someone before? Is that why he was afraid? Maybe you should ask him next time you meet.

Just as you were going to stand up, you hear footsteps approaching. Your door suddenly opens and a strange man entered. He had a black mask and black horns. There were two pairs of wings on him, one located on his head while the other pair rested beside his waist. There was even a halo above his head.

An angel? You must be dreaming again…

The white eyes on the mask almost looked sad when he saw you, “I apologize for the intrusion. I’m sure you have many questions, and I assure you they will be answered. Most, at least. It depends on the question,”

You tried to stay calm just to make sure this was indeed a dream. You’ll wake up any minute now, right?

“How did you get in my house?”

He shakes his head, “While it may appear to be, this isn’t a house. It’s a room, your room. Where you are is my realm that resides in the line between life and death. It only appears as this because this place is where you feel the safest,”

You feel your heart beginning to pound against your chest. Between life and death? Realm?

“W-Who are you?”

The man pauses as he went to pull a chair over and sat down in front of you, “You…may refer to me as Mr. Sol,”

“What are you?”

“I suppose the closest thing I can call myself in your words is a grim reaper, but I am not here to collect your soul. Perhaps I can describe it as…guiding your soul,”

Grim reaper? Soul? He’s not an angel?

“Guiding my soul? Where?”

“That’s for you to decide,”

Mr. Sol has been strangely open about answering such questions. It’s hard to tell if he is lying or telling the truth. It may be the mask, but his tone seemed genuine.

“I don’t understand. Am… Am I dead?”

Mr. Sol looked down for a moment, and the white eyes closed, “Not yet,”

“What happened to me?”

His eyes open at that question, “You don’t remember?”

When you shake your head, he starts looking around. A few drawers open and eventually, a file is pulled out from one of them. He opens it, giving it a quick read before closing the file and holding it to you.

“This will explain everything. From the moment you were born to your eventual end,” he says, “But it is up to you to read it,”

You stare at the file then briefly looked at him. Your entire life, and it’s in a small file that he holds in his hands. Hesitantly, you grab the file and open it. A picture of you, your name, your age, your date of birth, your family, your school life… It was all there. The final paragraph detailing your fate was suddenly cut off, but the moments that happened before was all there. You were dying.

You look up at him, “You said you will guide me to where I want to go. What do you mean by that?”

Mr. Sol pauses yet again. He crosses his legs and his hands rest on his lap, “[Name], I am giving you the choice to continue where your life had left off or to end it. I am giving you the choice to go back, to wake up in the living world continue with the life you planned for yourself. I am giving you a second chance,”

“And if I say no?”

“Death awaits,” was all he said. His tone had shifted slightly as he said that.

It was an easy choice. Anyone would want to continue living. Anyone would give anything for a second chance when absolutely nothing was being asked for in return. You’d even see him again. You wonder if he had tried contacting you during that moment. He must be worried.

“This is the only chance I get, right?”

He nods, “Yes. It is all I can give you,”

“So we won’t be meeting again, huh?”

“It’d be best if we didn’t…”

Should you? The answer feels obvious, so you finally give him your answer.

“I’d like to go back,”

Mr. Sol nods and stands up, holding out a hand to you. He pulls you up to your feet and suddenly pulls you closer to him. He held your hand close to where his heart should be.

“I must tell you, once we go back, you won’t remember your time with me. You won’t remember a thing about me,” he lets out a shaky breath, almost like he was holding back tears, “I’m sorry,”

The crows seem to like hanging around the bench you often sit at. You’re not quite sure why. It’s not like you had any food on you for them. One of them was even sitting on the bench, looking up at you almost like you were an old friend. You only stared back, wondering why a flock had decided to hang out around with you.

One suddenly flew off and soon, the others followed one by one. You watched them leave and begin to surround a man walking down the path. He had held out a hand for one to perch onto.

Ah, maybe they were only just waiting for him. Crows can remember faces after all, and perhaps they accepted him as their friend. It was strange. You’d think it would be pigeons one would be surrounded by, but this man had attracted and befriended them. He must be very knowledgeable with them, maybe even grew up with them.

You smiled, stifling a laugh. It’s not often you see something like that, but it is a sight to behold. You wonder just how long it must’ve taken the flock to accept him.

The man continued down the path beyond your sight. The crows follows his steps and look up at him, almost begging for more food. The one on his hand caws, turning its head towards their usual meeting spot.

He shouldn’t have allowed you to get so close in the first place. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get so attached.

I am actually ashamed to say I made an Oberon disguising as a human and I hate it so much he looks like a generic anime boy

UGHH I LITERALLY COULD NOT LOOK AT HIM HELP MEEEE 😭😭😭

BOY KEEP YOUR MASK ON

#🌑 // the moon provides #🌑 // listen to his story #pressure oc #roblox pressure oc #roblox oc #oc x reader #oc insert #pressure x reader #x reader #original character x reader #roblox x reader

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ghostssimp · 9 months

Text

The Death of Peace of Mind//Simon Ghost Riley

A/N This one is smuttish a..lot? I took some time from writing, because I didn't have anything in my head. No inspo. This is what came with a song; Bad Omens; The Death of Peace of Mind I hope you enjoy.

I made another mistake, thought I could change Thought I could make it out Promises break, need to hear you say You're gonna keep it now

You and Ghost were fuck buddies, nothing more. That was until you both started to feel something towards each other. That's when you begged Price to give you other tasks, to send you on different kinds of missions. You were avoiding him. He took notice of that, and it made him feel mixed emotions.

This was finally the longest that you were on a mission. The last time the two of you saw each other was 6 months ago. The last time you two had touched each other was 9 months ago. It made you only crave for the man more.

I miss the way you say my name The way you bend, the way you break Your makeup running down your face The way you touch, the way you taste

Those hot nights, where you would whimper his name. "Simon, please Simon." Were the whispers that you could moan out from all the pleasure he gave you as he pushed deep into you from the back, one of his huge hands holding your waist as the other was between your legs, making you grind against his cock more.

His groan echoed in the room. "That's right. Keep that mouth full of my name. That's the only one you will remember for some time." His deep voice could be heard behind you and it made you arch your back even more for him. "Yes, sir!" You cry out feeling closer and closer to your high.

His hand would catch the grip on your hair and pull it, so you would look in the mirror. You saw your red face that was wet from the sweat. Your eyes are in a haze as you look at him and how he thrusts into you. Each one was harder and harder. All you could see was his mask. "Look at yourself. Look how much of a good girl you are being for me, hm?" He would grunt into the night.

When the curtains call the time Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize Love's the death of peace of mind

You walk back, feeling a little tired and sore from the flight back. You go straight to Price's office. As you enter, Price is already in a room with someone. Your heart skipped a beat and your mouth dried.

"Y/N! Good to see that you came in one piece back home." Price told you, not feeling the tension rising in the room. When you met Ghost's icy look, it felt like you couldn't move. Like you were frozen in place as all those feelings came back to you.

You're in the walls that I made with crosses and frames Hanging upside down For granted, in vain, I took everything I ever cared about

Being on such long missions always meant that you were alone with your thoughts. What did you think about? Was it Simon?

Every night, it felt like he was next to you. It felt like his fingers traced from your lips to your pussy. It felt like he pumped them in and out. The feeling your fingers did, it just wasn't the same. You needed him. You needed his touch so badly. You moaned his name every night, trying to get yourself off at the memory of him.

It all just made it worse for your feelings towards him.

I miss the way you say my name The way you bend, the way you break Your makeup running down your face The way you fuck, the way you taste

You could still remember when the two of you came back from an undercover mission. You had to dress up and make the mafia boss fall for your charm.

When Ghost heard your soft whispers, when he saw your soft touches when he heard your low chuckles.. It made him go mad. His cock twitched. On the other hand, you were doing it all a little bit more to piss him off. He knew it.

So when he called you to his office, you were pinned to the wall. "Let's see how can you make it up and apologize with that pretty mouth of yours."

You were on your knees for him. At one point, his hands held your head as he fucked your mouth.

He pulled you up and bent you over the table. His hands held yours behind your back as he fucked you raw on his table. Your dress was ripped apart. Your whole body was screaming for more of him as you tried to keep your moans and screams in. "I'm gonna make you forget every man, this cock is the only thing that will be in your mind for a long time, love."

When the curtains call the time Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize Love's the death of peace of mind

After you filled Price in, you stormed out of his office, trying to run away from Simon. You can't do this now, because you're aching for him.

You even went pass Gaz and Soap with a quick 'hi'.

When the curtains call the time Will we both be satisfied? It wasn't hard to realize Love's the death of peace of mind

The fight between the two of you was still clear in your head.

You were holding your head in your hands as you were seated on the bed. Your heart was beating fast as you thought of what to say to him. The door opens and you look up to see tired eyes behind a skull mask.

He didn't need a second to see that something was wrong. "Y/N, what's going on?" His voice rang in the room and it made you feel even worse.

"I- I have to go Ghost." He was silent, but you could tell that there was a frown behind his mask. "Wha-"

"Ghost I have to go away from you. We have to stop." He took a few steps towards you. "We're in too deep to stop." You put your hand up and he stopped in front of you.

"No, you don't understand Si, I'm falling." With one look in your eyes, both of you knew that you were fucked.

A moment of silence, and then the chaos got out. A lot of words were said that weren't meant. A lot of feelings got spilled out and it ended with you storming out and slamming the door.

You come and go in waves Leaving me in your wake You come and go in waves Swallowing everything

He was always there, in the back of your head. No matter what you did, no matter what you tried. He was fucking you and loving you in the back of your mind.

Are you satisfied? Love's the death of peace of mind Mind, mind

Was this what you wanted? To be alone? To be left alone by him?

When the curtains call the time Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize Love's the death of peace of mind

As you were walking through the hall, a pair of strong arms pulled you into an empty room. His body was pressed against yours as he pinned you to the wall. His skull mask was already moved a little so his lips crashed against yours. The need for him screamed in you as you pulled him closer, your breathing getting heavy.

When the curtains call the time Will we both be satisfied? It wasn't hard to realize Love's the death of peace of mind

You whimper. "Simon-" He smashes his lips again against his as his arms explore your body. "Shut up and let me give you all the love you have missed in these months. I'll make you mine again and you're not fucking runnin' away love." His gruff voice was heard and you did it. You let yourself to him. He was the one you craved so much. He was your need, your drug.

Love's the death of peace of mind

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warping-realities · 1 year

Text

Dalton Academy - Prideful Son (Final)

"Trip, what kind of deal did you make with the old man? Things are weird here man." - Vincent Carmichael was sitting in the leather armchair of the luxurious apartment that came with the position of Dalton's headmaster. He had just gotten out of the shower and poured himself a generous dose of Scotch. But not even the velvety taste calmed him down because he knew that something very unusual was happening. He had led Dalton for many years and had handled the transition of several boys, many of whom had been powerful sources. None of them, however, had done what Jaime Sanchez had done. He himself had been a source although as always happened after the sealing of the contract little of that previous life had been preserved. Precisely because of this he knew that something was not happening as usual. Nothing in that situation went as expected from the beginning, so Trip Hartfield needed to clarify some things.

"Vince, you need to calm down, what the boy may think he knows is certainly not enough to change his destiny. What happened in that room is between me and my ancestor. Dalton never made a mistake, it won't be now that he starts." - Was the answer coming from the phone speaker.

"He manipulated me Trip, do you have any idea how dangerous it can be for someone who thinks like one of us to not be linked to us but working against us? And there's still the matter of Leonardo Reis, he came here for a contract at the request of Flip Thompson and I had assigned the Bear Club boys to deal with him..."

"I asked Flip to take Reis. He was one of the sources of my group and he agreed to do me this favor."

"What? Why? And why didn't you inform me?"

"Because it's part of the deal I made with the old man. He gave me a list of names of interest. Reis' name was separate from the others, not even Chad knows he was on that list . But he is as important as the others."

"What kind of game is the old man playing, Trip?"

"I don't know Vince, but we need to trust him."

…..

The boy was very good at understanding when something was wrong and that day he had the feeling that something very wrong was about to happen. The winter had been merciless, they had little food and the fight for their territory in that land had been incessant. The warriors are few and the mouths to feed are many. In that situation a seven-year-old blind boy was a burden that few were willing to carry. Of course he didn't understand all of that rationally, but instinctively he knew something was coming. His mother had been tearful all morning and his father, who never paid him much attention had hugged him tightly. Ulf knew they were both heavily criticized for letting him live, but they were in a new land and had lost so many on the journey there that sacrificing the first baby born in that place seemed like a bad omen. And when the boy started to grow it became clear that despite his visual impairment he had something different, a connection with the gods themselves and because of that they let him live. But in that winter morning that connection was the cause of his doom. While he was playing with the puppies that were his main companion the men from the village came and took him away.

The journey took a few minutes and the entire time he felt his father's hand guiding him. At times he seemed to tremble, but Ulf knew that must have been a figment of his imagination. When they finally stopped he heard his father comment.

"So much blood spilled because of this place and now this."

"They are tireless and in much greater numbers than us, Njal, and they know this land like no one else. If we want to survive we will need the help of the gods, otherwise we won't make it to summer."

"I know Gorm and I'm here, aren't I? About to sacrifice what is most precious to me, Thyra hasn't conceived again in all the years since Ulf was born."

"Then ask the father of all that this blessing be granted to you and your wife. But don't try to stop what will happen. He always belonged to the gods and Odin himself came to me in a dream asking for the boy."

"I know, so let's get this over with. Ulf, boy I need you to be brave like a warrior should be. Soon you will meet with the father of the world and I need you to ask him to intercede, to help us give what is necessary to survive on this earth. Until then I need you to lie still." - Said his father, placing him on a hard surface. Where he lay waiting as he was ordered until he felt a searing pain in his chest and felt the life drain away along with the blood coming from the wound.

When the boy thought it was all over he heard a strong and serious voice as one would expect from a king.

"Open your eyes boy."

He opened his eyes and for the first time he actually saw and before him was the father of all, Odin himself smiling at him and he was also blind in one eye. On each of his shoulders was a crow perched.

"Very good Ulf, you behaved like a true warrior. Now your real work begins.

....

The situation at Hartfield Manor could be described as weird if one weren't making a huge understatement. Jaime and Leonardo had woken up and it was up to Mike Jones to deal with it while Chad made desperate phone calls to his father, Carmichael and the other Crows. Sanchez's transformation seemed to confirm that the work was done, but what had happened to Reis put everything in doubt. The fact that they acted as if nothing had happened and had always been that way should put an end to that doubt, but how could they be sure? Until Chad talked to his father and Carmichael they couldn't be sure and Mike knew that as he stared at what should be the final version of Jaime Sanchez, the seal of their contract. And that he spoke to him as if they were friends. He knew that this was how it should be, but then why didn't he feel it?

"... with you and Chad in basketball, Eddie on the mats and if the twins accept to join you will also have two talents in football. I think the Crows have a great chance in the competition between the clubs. And if you accept him, Leo has a great talent in soccer, although his size may not seem like it. In Brazil they called him Hulk, which is also the nickname of a famous player there. I feel useless for not having anything exceptional to contribute. Unless my latino sex appeal counts for something. - Said Jaime smiling.

"Get real Jay. You look like a pimp selling us." - Interrupted Leonardo Reis.

"Well, the Crows value ambition, don't they? And Carmichael himself said we could apply to join."

"The decision of who enters or not is made together Jaime, but the final approval depends on the president." - Still uncomfortable with the situation.

"So I'm going to have to suck up to Chad? Nothing new under the sun for him. By the way, where is he?"

Chad was at that moment sitting on the balcony of the second floor of the family mansion, on a call with his father. The same feeling of uneasy that Mike felt dominated him.

"Dad, with the others it seemed right, we fit in well. Just the way you said it would be. Sanchez however... It's just that he looks and behaves the way he should be, but there's something that bothers me. And there's still the question of Reis.... What do you mean? And why couldn't I have known this before? ... I understand, but it would have saved me a lot of anguish. But what should we do now? .... Yes, maybe when he formally entering the club we will feel as we should. Until then I will do as you say and try to get to know him better and see if we fit in. At the same time I will look for anomalies. I will also talk to Carmichael in person.... Yes, I'll keep you informed. I'm going to hang up now, the other guys are arriving... thank you dad, it's very important for me to know that you're proud of me. - Chad said, finishing the call and observing the four others arrive in Eddie's car. If their integration with the twins was also strange, he would have a problem that he might not know how to solve.

….

They were dead, all of them. His father's children's children had perished and the colony was no more. Over the past few decades Ulf had learned to channel the power of the father of all into those who came to him, boys becoming warriors under their combined power. But what was a source of hope for his people in that land became a source of fear for the natives. The gigantic and brutal warriors born there were feared and hated with such intensity that a union between the different nations was made with the sole objective of eradicating them. Ulf used all the power that he was born with and that he had received through the countless sacrifices made in the name of the father of all through him and it was still insufficient. The losses for the natives were massive, but Ulf's people were completely decimated. They spared only the small children and took them out of his reach.

The God also left, without worshipers he would not survive in that place, but Ulf was trapped there, he was born there, he died there and was reborn there. His destiny was linked to that land and so was he. The father of all left leaving two little crows as company for the companion who had helped him so much. And so Ulf waited, years became decades, decades became centuries and legends about the place spread among the local population. He was already in a state of dormancy when fate smiled at him again. And smiling was what he did.

….

"I propose a little drinking game to see if you have what it takes to take become members. - Eddie said smiling to Leonardo and Jaime.

"So these are the high standards required to join the Crow Club? To be able to drink as much as the old members?" - Jaime replied.

"I wouldn't say just that, but we can discuss some other tests later. Alone." - J.B. replied, eating Jaime with his eyes.

"Be careful Sanchez. Roberts is insatiable.- Commented Jacob Miller. - I have experience and I can confirm."

"If I were you, I wouldn't doubt my boy Jay's capabilities." - Leonardo replied smiling.

"Okay, another thing. We have three Jays around here and this isn't going to work, we need to get organized." - Commented J.B. - I'm J.B. and I was the first to arrive so I'm not going to change."

"I'd really like to know why you have that nickname, Roberts." - Said Leonardo.

"It's a diminutive of Johnny Boy, Eddie started calling him that and we ended up adopting it." - Chad replied next to Mike.

"Well, then if that's a nickname of a nickname maybe he should change it." - Leo replied.

"Fortunately I arrived earlier and have primacy, while Jaime here hasn't even joined the club yet." - J.B. responded with a smirk.

"Hey, I didn't even say anything. Stop picking on J.B. Leo." - Jaime intervened.

"You can call me Jake and that's fine." - Said Jake Miller

"Leonardo is easy, we just call him Leo. Which brings us back to you Jaime. We can't have someone without a nickname between brothers." - J.B. continued, being interrupted again by Leo.

"I didn't say you could call me Leo."

"Dude, stop teasing, that's already your fucking nickname, come on!" Jaime intervened again before addressing J.B. - So, any suggestions?"

"Jaime Sanches... J.S. no, it doesn't sound..."

"That's not his full name. - Chad commented while sipping his bourbon, the arrogant expression back on his face. - Our dear colleague is Jaime Caetano Sanchez."

"So we're talking about a J.C. - said Greg, sitting side by side with Jake"

"Better than J.S. but there's still something missing." - replied J.B.

"J.C. um... how about Jace?" Jake said thoughtfully. "I can already imagine the repercussion of the posts. Jace and Jake. The contrast between the skin tones will draw a lot of attention. Apart from the fact that we're both hot." "

"If that's what you're looking for, Jake, maybe Mike would be a better option. But hey, Jace is a good nickname." - J.B. replied.

"Ah, don't worry, he won't escape, in fact none of you will. You are all an excellent source of followers." - Jake said smiling and making all the Crows look in Jaime's direction at the mention of the word source. But he didn't show any reaction to that.

"Well, if you want me to be Jace, so be it. So how is this game going to work?"

"That's easy, we ask, you answer, everyone drinks." - Eddie replied.

"What's the point of that if everyone's going to drink?" - Leo asked.

"Exactly." - Eddie replied, smiling and filling several glasses of tequila.

….

Ulf watched the two native boys approach his territory. The clearing had shrunk a lot over the years, nothing was left of the old village except some broken utensils long forgotten. It was precisely the boys messing with the rusty trinkets that had once belonged to Ulf's people that woke him up. He approached the edge of his territory and waited for the boys to approach.

"Kitchi, we shouldn't go further, it's dangerous. The elders..."

"I had no idea you were a coward Keme."

"I'm not a coward! Take it back brother!"

"I'll take it back if you accompany me to the clearing and prove me wrong."

"Fine, but if the elders find out we did this..."

"They'll only know if you talk. Let's go"

Ulf followed the interaction between the brothers with interest. They didn't speak his language but that wouldn't be a problem. He waited until the boys were in the middle of his clearing before appearing.

"Hello, I'm Ulf" - He said smiling and scaring the two boys who immediately got into a fighting position.

"Get away from us evil spirit." - Said the one called Keme. While his brother Kitchi relaxed.

"Brother is just a little boy, one of the invaders."

"He's too far from the cities to be one of them."

Invaders? And cities? Had his people returned? If that were the case, the God could have returned with them and Ulf would no longer be alone.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I've been alone for a long time. I just want to talk. Tell me about these invaders."

"Get away. We shouldn't have come here. Let's go Kitchi. - Keme said pulling his brother. Ulf could have stopped them, in that place his power was absolute although it was a pale shadow of what it once was. But he noticed something about that one called Kitchi, there was the same kind of power in him that Ulf himself had possessed before the God. And the boy had felt that connection between them. So Ulf let them go knowing that the one he was interested in would return.

There was no need to wait long. Within a few days, barely a blink of an eye for Ulf, the boy was back.

"What are you?" - He asked from the edge of the clearing.

"Come here and I'll tell you."

"I'm not stupid if I go in there you'll kill me or worse."

"If so, why didn't I do it when I had the chance?"

"I don't know, but I don't trust what you say."

"It's okay to stay where you are, I won't force you to come in. One day you'll choose to come in on your own."

"I will never do that, spirit"

"We'll see" - Ulf replied smiling as if he were the most innocent being in the world.

….

"Sexual orientation?" - J.B. asked, holding the glass of tequila in his hand.

"Straight." - Leo replied.

"Boring as expected, Reis." - Replied J.B.

"Open to experimentation." - Jaime replied with a smile.

"That's what I'm talking about! Drink!" - shouted J.B. happily before chugging the entire shot in his mouth, followed by the rest of the boys. The question game combined with alcohol had helped them all to integrate, there were still fights here and there, but that was expected given the fact that they were not clones of each other and each should have their own personality. Almost all of the Crows seemed to have accepted that Jaime, or rather Jace, was fully integrated and that Leo had come to them as a bonus. But both Mike and Chad, who were in fact the most similar among them, still didn't completely accept that as true.

"Favorite sexual position?" - Greg asked. But before the colleagues could respond, Chad interrupted them.

"Put your glasses away and try to keep a slightly convincing face, gentlemen, we have visitors. Carmichael is coming here."

"Why would the headmaster come to your private home Chad?" - Leonardo asked.

"Because you idiots made such a fuss that the neighbors complained to him."

"You speak as if you haven't done the same."

"I beg your pardon. Chad Hartfield would never do something unworthy like a fuss. - Jaime said in a mocking tone. Making everyone, even Mike, burst out laughing.

"I'm serious, glasses in the kitchen now. - Chad scolded, but without being able to completely hide a smile as he watched with satisfaction that bunch of gigantic grown men carry out his orders, with a feeling that it was too good to be true. And that was precisely the problem, that uneasy feeling didn't go away.

"Either he really is one of us or he is a great manipulator which in a way makes him one of us." Mike commented next to him.

"I asked Carmichael to observe him. He is the alive person with the most experience on the subject. But I agree with you, I saw my father with his group my whole life. Or at least I have memories of it. - Chad corrected himself before saying continue - And the truth is that when they are together it's like watching a machine in action, the gears fitting together perfectly. It seems like one knows what the other is going to say or do before the other has even finished thinking about it. That's the kind of thing I expected here. The morning was amazing and I liked them both, we needed someone to slow down J.B. when necessary and Leo does that perfectly and as for Jaime, I mean Jace, he's the most similar to you and me out of everyone, It's like he's a third part that we're missing, Mike, and we don't even know it. I really want to believe him. But there's still something forced, don't you feel that too? I can't even call him by his nickname without feeling my tongue curl as if I wasn't saying something true.

"I know man, I have the same feeling, I want it to be true I feel like it should be true but at the same time it's not... let's wait for Carmichael and see if he sheds any light."

While the two were having that conversation, two others were talking in the backyard of the house in whispers so that they would not be heard by anyone inside.

"You think they suspect something, man?"

"Despite all the bro talk they are tremendously intelligent Leo, I believe we did a good job and that they should at least be willing to believe in us. And that will have to be enough."

"What a mess you've gotten me into, Sanchez."

"I didn't mean to, Leo. But I won't lie and say I'm not grateful to have an ally."

"So what do we do now?"

"We'll wait until we get back to Dalton. You'll have to find a way to get rid of his bones. I'm sure they're behind that red door in their headquarters."

"And you?"

"I'll take the hardest part. Find a way to get us there."

….

Kitchi was waiting for him at the edge of the clearing, always avoiding putting himself within range of Ulf's power. But it had been a long time since the boy who wasn't a boy decided he wouldn't do anything to the boy. Because he had learned to like the other boy. He was brave and fierce in the way Ulf had been taught by his people and his God to admire. And through him Ulf discovered what was happening in the world outside his clearing. That was how he discovered that the invaders Kitchi had spoken of the day they met were not Ulf's people or if they were they were very changed, they did not have the same gods or the same customs and did not seek the glory of death in battle. Strange as it was, Ulf had learned to respect and like a member of the people who had decimated his own people and made the God leave. Also he hated to think that these new invaders with their strange customs could be what his people across the sea had become.

"What news do you bring from the world beyond brave warrior?" - He asked smiling. But without getting a smile in response.

"I came to say goodbye Ulf. My people go to war against the invaders. They never found out that I came here. I broke traditions for too long and even though I see that they are mistaken about you now I am a man and I don't I can act like a boy anymore. Goodbye, spirit."

"Kitchi wait..." - But the boy didn't listen to him and left while Ulf resigned himself to returning to the helpless existence he had known over the past few centuries as he had known would happen someday, but had hoped it would not be so soon. Kitchi's few occasional visits had been a relief from the centuries of solitude. So much so that when he felt the boy approach his domain after just a few days he felt a sense of relief that in his entire long existence he had not known he would be capable of feeling.

"I thought you wouldn't see me again, great warrior." - He spoke in a mocking tone towards the approaching figure. Only to have another surprise. Kitchi crawled towards him, injured in so many places that he didn't know how the boy had survived. - Boy, come to me, let's go. You can do it, just a little longer. - He said encouraging the boy, who little by little crawled towards him, only to fall to the ground a short distance from his territory. And when everything seemed lost, contact was made when the boy managed to enter into the clearing. And Ulf set to work, using what little power he hadto heal the boy until he could speak again.

"They're dead Ulf, all of them, my father, my brother... there's nothing left, there's no one left."

Ulf felt it as if he were experiencing the death of his own people again. Which was curious since it was the people of Kitchi who had caused that to them, not that the boy had any responsibility for what happened.

"I want…. I need..."

"What?" - Ulf asked, knowing exactly what the request would be.

"Give me. Your blessing. The one you gave to the warriors of your people."

"What good would it do you now, if your people no longer exist?"

"It's good for me to take as many of them as I can, it's good for me to be reunited with my people knowing I did what I could to bring them justice."

"I can do what you ask of me but the source will be you, and you will be different, more like the men of my people than yours. You will become what your ancestors gave their lives for detain. It may be that when your time comes you will not have a place among them."

"I don't care. The men who killed my ancestors are dead, the men who decimated my family are still breathing and I want to be the one to take their last breath."

"I can't deny you that, it's my mission, the reason for my existence. But I'm going to miss who you are."

"Just do it, spirit!"

And Ulf did. Between the screams of pain and despair he felt the boy he knew change before him. Ferocity exacerbated to the limit of cruelty, cleverness becoming malice, a mind modified with a sole purpose of revenge and decimation and a perfect body for that. Gigantic arms ending in hands powerful enough to crush skulls. A massive torso capable of withstanding the most powerful blows and legs strong enough to carry all of that.

It was done and Ulf for the first time since he had been given that fate was unhappy about doing the work assigned to him. The monster in the form of a man that he had created turned his back on him without even saying a word and he did nothing to stop him even though he knew the fate that awaited him, just as he knew his own fate. He was destined to fade into oblivion or continue to create monsters like that. For the first time in all those centuries, oblivion seemed to be the best option.

…

"I can't answer you. Both he and Reis seem quite integrated to me, but the whole situation is atypical. The contract that your father made... well, what's done is done. Who knows, maybe things will work out after the initiation ceremony, with the old members here in Dalton." - Carmichael said to Chad in front of the entrance porch of Hartfield Manor.

"I thought the ceremony was just symbolic, that the act of acceptance and the transformation itself were what validated the contract."

"Usually yes, but as I told you, everything about this particular contract is unusual. You ended up with one more member than expected. Two in fact, if you count the fact that Gregory Miller was a side effect. Extremely unusual . I don't even know how to explain what happened to Reis. And unless Dalton himself does it..."

"So what should I do?"

"Keep an eye on him, on both of them. Maybe they'll reveal themselves if they're pretending or maybe Dalton himself has some more surprises in store for us. Now let's all go back to school and wait." - Director Carmichael concluded as he headed to his car, leaving behind a thoughtful Chad.

...

"Knock, Knock" - J.B. said in a jovial and cheerful voice at the door of Jaime's bedroom.

Jaime himself, upon hearing that, smiled. He had managed to get rid of Greg so he could have the place to himself and his target. Practically naked with his muscular, tanned body on display and a bright smile on his face, he opened the door.

"Jace, you pervert trying to seduce me?" said J.B., admiring him with hungry eyes.

"Please, as if you need convincing to do anything." - Jaime replied with a smile, slowly approaching his colleague's face, until their lips were about to touch.

"Sanchez you are playing with fire."

"I'm not afraid of getting burned." - He replied, grabbing J.B. while giving him an intense kiss and dragging him to the bed.

"Jace you rascal, hiding the game all the time." - J.B. said breathlessly as Jaime took off his shirt.

"And I thought I had left obvious signs in response to your advances." -Jaime replied as he kissed J.B.'s neck and powerful chest.

"We're going to need to talk about what you consider to be obvious."

"I don't think so, I won't be able to answer anything for now." - Jaime said, approaching his colleague's now fully erect member and engulfing it with his mouth.

....

Leonardo was pissed about the whole situation. He had tried to adapt to that place, he had chosen to ignore his more aggressive instincts towards that country, controlling his bad temper and for what? To become a pawn in a damned game of manipulation controlled by the spirit of an old megalomaniac capitalist.

He almost pissed his pants off in that vision. The damned crows seemed to have flown towards his face and after what he saw happen to Dalton's eye he threw himself to the ground like a scared boy.

"Get up Leo, we have little time and I don't know what I'll be like when I wake up, I'll need you to be my anchor and I don't even know how to do that right." - Jaime said while extending his hand to him.

"I don't want any part of this." - He responded without extending his hand back.

"I didn't want to either, but unfortunately we're stuck with this. All of us. Help me find a way to end this once and for all." - And Leo extended his hand.

When he woke up he was completely changed physically and he felt that something had changed in his mind too. But he still knew who he was and what he would have to do.

However, he was amazed at how far Jaime was willing to go to get what he wanted. And now in Dalton's basement, as he looked for a way to get rid of the old man's damned bones, he wondered if his colleague hadn't already gone too far on the path to becoming one of them. That train of thought was interrupted when he found what he was looking for.

"Perfect" - He said, looking at the gallon of kerosene with shining eyes. Without realizing that perhaps he already had walked a few steps along that same path.

....

"Turn your back." - Jaime said to J.B. with a commanding tone after giving him one of the best blow jobs he had ever received. Which made him obey immediately. - So, Johny Boy, I was thinking. What do I need to do for me to be formally accepted into your Club? Greg and Jake were accepted immediately while I'm still pending- Asked as he positioned himself on top of the other.

"I don't know, I thought Chad was going to announce it at Hartfield Manor..."

"I thought I was important.-Jaime said, now holding J.B.'s hair tightly.-That I was special.-He continued with a kiss on his colleague's neck.-Even irreplaceable." - He concludes by placing his swollen cock close to J.B.'s ass but without making any effort to continue.

"Jace...I don't know...ungh."

"Don't you know or don't want to tell me?"

"I don't know if I knew...."

"I believe in you. - Jaime replied, gently penetrating his classmate ass. - But there is something you know and can tell me." -He continued while increase his pace.

"Ungh...no...don't stop. What? What do you want to know?" - J.B. asked amidst waves of pleasure. Causing Jaime to increase his pace even more and open a wide smile.

…

For 150 years Ulf remained silent, ruminating on his own existence, determined to ward off any man who approached him. He knew he couldn't deny it if someone entered his territory and asked for his blessing and even though the probability of that happening was very small after what happened to Kitchi, he took precautions. The forest area around his clearing became surrounded by wild and cruel creatures. And quickly the legends about the cursed place spread among the few remaining natives and also among the invaders. But that introspective calm didn't last as long as last time. One spring morning many men approached his territory and set to work. Just like Ulf himself. Quickly the entire region was filled with wild animals. Crows attacked men while they were working. Wolves howled at night, scaring the pack animals and making them flee, bears invaded the camp and destroyed the food. And yet they continued to work.

An iron will drove that men, an unstoppable force of the kind that Ulf would have admired if it hadn't been bringing those men closer every day to his territory and to the possibility of him being forced to resume the role he wanted to avoid at all costs. And despite everything he did that day came. He watched the men approach his clearing, some armed to the ground shooting at the animals he sent, others cutting down the little brush that still separated his clearing from the new road they had opened and then... Ulf felt his territory. suddenly increase, regaining almost all of its original size. The place where his village had been now housed the beginning of a large construction and beyond that there was already a small village in formation.

He did not introduce himself to those men, resisting with all his might the impulse to do so. He held out until night and then brought hell upon them.

The next day the men left, leaving behind them the unfinished construction, dead animals and some of them buried. Ulf watched this with relief, believing that he could once again return to his state of contemplation.

For weeks it seemed to him that it would be so. Then one night the man arrived.

….

"What the hell are you carrying around there?"

"The solution you asked me for."

"Man, we could burn down the whole school if we use this."

"I don't plan on using it here, dumbass. We go in, take the damn bones, put them in these backpacks I brought and take them to the middle of the woods where we can set them on fire."

"A forest fire isn't much better than a school fire."

"I haven't seen you do anything useful so far."

"Then see." - Jaime replied. He approached the digital panel next to the large door of the Crows headquarters and entered the password as he spoke it out loud.

"0 - one - nineteen - eighteen - 0 - nine. Edgar Allan Poe's birthday, it was kind of obvious if you stopped to think about it. It would only be more obvious if it were Dalton Hartfield's birthday."

"If it was that obvious you wouldn't have needed to suck Roberts' dick."

"Shut up, asshole. We're inside, now we just have to go to the damn red door and..." - Jaime began to say, interrupting himself when looking at a solid wall without a single door.

" Puta merda" - Said Leo when faced with that.

"I don't understand, everything pointed here." - Jaime said, running his hand over the exquisite wallpaper in the hope of feeling a hidden door behind it.

"We're fucked man. Why did you have to drag me into this shit?"

"I didn't ask for this either man. I just wanted this shit to end."

"Good, we can still finish." - Reis replied, lifting the gallon of kerosene.

"Are you crazy, dude? This could turn into a huge mess."

"You said yourself that you want to end it all."

"But not like this. Let it go, no one is going to burn this school down." - Jaime said, making Leo release the gallon.

"Certainly not. - Chad said standing at the door - You almost fooled me Jaime. But your mistake was believing that just because he's a slut J.B. would be stupid. He's a Crow and a Crow is always smart. Which proves you're still not one of us. I knew there was something wrong with you two.”

"Fuck you, you psychopath" - Was Leo's response. While Jaime pondered what to do.Then cursing himself for choosing that path he made a decision.

"You're right. I'm sorry for using him like that although he certainly liked it. But the truth is that Reis came to me thinking I could help him and at the same time I felt like you still didn't trust me Chad. So I came up with a plan to find out what Reis intended to do and at the same time gain your trust."

"You fucking piece of shit. What do you think you're doing? I trusted you!" - Leonardo shouted, lifting the gallon again.

"I already told you to turn that shit down!" - Jaime shouted back and again his colleague obeyed him. Something Chad can't help but notice.

"If what you say is true Jaime, why don't you prove it!"

"Call me Jace, man - Jaime said in an attempt to convey confidence - and what do you want me to do? How am I going to convince you?"

"Nothing you say will make me trust you... Jaime. - Chad replied, highlighting the name. - But you can prove it by making our dear colleague one of us."

"I... I don't know how..." - Jaime began to respond.

"Fuck you, Chad. I'm going to get out of here..." - Leonardo interrupted.

"Tell him to be quiet" - Chad said.

"Leo, shut up and stay still." - Jaime said and to his surprise and that of Leonardo himself, he remained motionless and quiet in the middle of the room."

"As I suspected. Looks like you'll get the chance to prove yourself after all...Jace." - Chad said with a bright smile. And while mentally apologizing, promising to fix it when he could, Jaime turned towards Leonardo and instinctively began to do the work assigned to him."

….

Ulf watched as the man approached and sat on a rock right in the middle of his center of power. The man reminded him of the God. He was old in appearance although he was infinitely younger. But the aura of power and the absolute certainty of deserving that power were the same. Very different from what Ulf himself felt, forever trapped in that contradictory state between a child and a centenarian being. He was already ready to try to scare away that figure when the man spoke.

"I know you're there, I feel you there. I came to talk and come to an understanding." - And then Ulf realized that the man just like Kitchi and Ulf himself had the power within him. The man's light was weak, blurry and Ulf realized he wouldn't have much time on this plane. But also that that light should have been as bright as Ulf's own had once been. That made him consider listening to what the man had to say. But what made him lower his guard was the fact that one of his crows flew and landed next to the man and he didn't even flinch.

"Hello. I'm Ulf" - he said, becoming visible to the man.

"Hello, Ulf. I'm Dalton. I think we have a lot to talk about." - Dalton Hartfield replied to the boy who wasn't a boy. For several hours they talked. At dawn both had a new understanding of various things and an agreement was made. And for the first time in decades Ulf was happy with his purpose.

….

"What's the purpose of all this hate, Leo? All this poorly disguised anger. Because no matter how much you try to hide it, they're there. What did we do that was so bad to you?" - Jaime asked his colleague, now sitting and staring at him with vacant, distant eyes. - You can talk."

"Where to start? Maybe it's because I'm trapped in a place full of psychopathic troglodytes guided by an evil spirit who intends to turn me into one of them? Or maybe because someone I thought I could trust turned out to be exactly like them? "

"He has a good point. - Jaime said to Chad, still trying to make the other trust him. - But it's not just that, you hate America. You hate our country but you're still here enjoying our blessings." - Jaime continued, not believing he was saying something like that.

"I had no choice in being here and I don't hate America. The entire continent is..."

"Cut that leftist bullshit. You're in America now, in real America. Where the real football is played, the real land of opportunity and you know what else I think you know it and resent it, don't you? That's where all this anger comes from." - Jaime continued, at the same time hating and feeling a perverse pleasure in those words.

"No... no... it's not true. I love my country."

"No one said otherwise, Leo. After all, you are a typical Brazilian. A happy, funny guy, concerned with enjoying life and a bit of a rogue when needed."

"These are stereotypes man... the worst... about Brazil"

"Liking soccer is also a stereotype and you like it."

"It's different, not every Brazilian likes football. And it's not just because it's a stereotype that I need to stop liking it."

"Exactly! Just because it's a stereotype doesn't mean it isn't true, does it, Leo? Which makes what I said about you true."

"No... I... I'm not a playful kind of guy... I'm not a clown... I have goals."

"Of course you do, you're in Dalton and to be in Dalton you have to be ambitious. You can't wait to get your hands on your grandfather's fortune."

"I never... needed it."

"Which doesn't mean you don't want to. Imagine everything you'll be able to do with all that money, make the most of the countries you love so much, the one in which you were born and the one that welcomed you and that you chose for yourself ."

"I... no...."

"Let the anger go and call it only against your enemies, America is your second home, the home you chose and we are your brothers, the ones you chose when you agreed to come to Dalton and we chose you, you are not a clown, you are our priest, you are the one who makes us smile when we need it and you are the one who controls J.B. because he is the only one who can make you impatient even though he wants to enjoy life as much as you do, and because all of this your place is among us so accept it." - Jaime concluded, almost believing his own words at the same time that Leonardo tried to avoid getting carried away by them, with his hands covering his face. And Chad looked at them both in amazement. The seconds seemed to drag by until Leo uncovered his face. And there was a combination of joy, malice and arrogance in him. There was no doubt. He was one of Dalton's Crows.

That realization opened a hole in Jaime's chest. He had done that, he had plotted and deceived and manipulated and finally done that. He could justify all he wanted, he could say he dit it just to gain Chad's trust and thus be able to figure out how to reverse it all. ...but it still didn't change the fact that he had done it. And Chad seemed to think the same way.

"I was wrong, you are one of us. Only one of us could do this. Welcome brothers." - He said smiling with what seemed like genuine joy combined with a great deal of relief. Jaime had thought about denying it, about throwing everything away, about punching that face until that bright smile was erased. - "Thanks, bro" - He heard Leo say next to him with a voice that was both arrogant and happy at the same time that made the feeling of nausea he felt increase. He turned around thinking about what he was going to do... but before he could decide what it was he found himself staring at the same wall where he had unsuccessfully tried to locate a hidden door minutes before, a red door that had appeared to him in dreams, that had tormented him for days without revealing what was behind it, a red door that didn't exist but was still there right in front of him. He stepped towards hearing Chad and Leo calling for him but ignoring them. With his hand shaking with anxiety he turned the handle, opened the door and physically walked through it for the first time.

….

The door that existed only when Ulf allowed it opened and the one he expected to see entered. He assumed the form the man expected to see and addressed him.

"Chadwick Wentworth Hartfield the third, what brings you here?" - He asked, knowing exactly what brought the descendant of his old friend there. The old friend whose image he used at that moment in a replica of the room he had planned and never got to occupy in the Academy that bore his name.

"Hello, sir. I... I come with an offer to make to you.

"Proceed."

"There's a kid in California, Jaime Sanchez, one of my scouts found him and..."

"I'm aware of the kid, Trip, your scouts are my scouts after all."

"Sir, I didn't mean to..."

"Calm down, you gave them the necessary resources to reach the boy. And I recognize that. So answer my question, what brings you here?"

"It's my son, he is... a disappointment, sir. Unworthy of your legacy. I failed... I failed the Academy, I failed you, and I failed him."

"I understand. But you still haven't answered my question, what brings you here?"

"I need you to do your thing with him."

"I see, that's all? Sanchez is extremely promising and you found him for me."

"Well, if you can ensure that the Hartfield legacy continues without major obstacles, it is your legacy as well and the one that helps ensure Dalton's survival."

"So you want a contract? Is that it?"

"If possible."

"Yes, it is possible. Both requests are. But it will not be easy. The blessing in its pure form, without the help of a source is a different experience from what you are used to seeing. But it will be necessary, your son should be the one who will guide the contract and in his current form he is totally inadequate. After that the steps must be followed specifically. I will give you a list of names of boys who should be brought to Dalton, boys who in the future will be a source of problems for the Hartfields and other people of interest to the perpetuation of the academy. Your son must be informed of what to do with all of them with the exception of one. He must not know that the last one came with the same objective as the others, find someone to be the sponsor in your place, not even Carmichael must know that he is a party to the contract until we are close to completion. When they and the source are under the roof of the academy things will have only one direction to go. Now Seek your son and prepare yourself, you You won't be pleased with what you see."

"Yes sir." - Chadwick Hartfield III responded respectfully, leaving and closing the door behind him.

Ulf waited in anticipation. It had been a long time since he had used his original method of working, after Kitch and before Dalton the prospect of doing so would have saddened him. But in just over a century and a half he had learned much more than in the entire previous millennium. And knowing that made him smile when he saw the door open.

...

The door opened and Jaime entered.

"You have got to be kidding." - He said when he saw where he was. For he was in the old familiar office of the Dalton headmaster.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist." - Someone said but he wasn't who he expected. - I'm Ulf and I think I owe you an explanation. - Said a blond boy smiling.

"I don't understand..." Replied Jaime.

"Let me help you." - Said the boy. And suddenly Jaime found himself standing in a snow-covered village where a blind blond boy was playing with puppies.

…

"I must say that you are the first since Dalton himself to know my whole story Jaime. Pitty."

"Why?" - Jaime asked.

"Why don't we clarify your doubts? I imagine you have many." - Ulf replied with a smile that Jaime had already seen mirrored on many of those who frequented Dalton.

"So this whole time it was you? The dreams, the visions? My grandmother... I thought... And the bones?

"Oh, where do I start?" Your grandmother. An unforeseen event, something rare in my plans. And what a formidable woman she is! It is very difficult to make the journey back to this plane. And she did it quite easily twice. But she couldn't be a match for me, not here in my territory. I had a conversation with her and she agreed to leave when she understood that there was nothing she could do against me. But she was not as upset as one might think because she understood that I like her want the best for you." - Said the boy with a friendly smile.

“Is she allright?”

Yes Jaime, there’s nothing she could offer me that you couldn't either. I released her. Which brings us to the visions. Each source manifests his power in a different way, since Trip Hartfield's scouts found you I have longed for know what yours would be. Many of my current skills came from the different sources that attended Dalton. The choice of your club mates came through the ability to look into the future that I inherited from one of those sources. But I will talk about that later. When It was clear that you were a dream walker I used that to guide you in the direction I wanted and I admit I had a lot of fun in the process. The physical limits to which I am restricted do not allow me to know the world with my own eyes. But Dalton gave me ways to interact with different people from different cultures and expanded my horizons. Plus I'm proud of our library, the books took me to places I could never physically go. I like spending my time there among them. And we had some interesting conversations there."

"I…did we?"

"I'm very proud of my impersonation of a grumpy old lady."

"The librarian? Mrs O'Malley? Was that you???

"One of my multiple personifications within these walls. I like interacting with the boys under my tutelage. But as I told you Mrs.O'Malley it's the personification that I'm most proud of and that allows me to spend my time with the books. I'm particularly interested in Mr. King's work. I don't know how he managed to escape Dalton when he lived so close to me. But it takes one to recognize the other. And his work on The Shining made me to think that he was always aware to some degree of what we were doing here. It's a shame indeed that he managed to escape me. I wonder what I could have done to someone like him. But in a way I'm not sad, I don't know if there would have been much left of his light or shining as he called it, if he had come to me and me. Then I wouldn't have his wonderfull works to help me kill time. And he was useful for my plans, he helped me put you on the path of The Crows Club.” - Ulf said, pausing and looking at Jaime, waiting for any doubts. When the boy didn't speak, he resumed his long monologue.

“Which brings us to your third question. The bones. Dalton was a genius and a true warrior of his time. He showed me that there was another ways to perform my role. That times were different and that I could create another type of warrior. A new kind of warrior for a new time and since then I have been adapting to the times and looking for new ways to expand my influence and share my blessing. And it was Dalton Hartfield who made me realize that what I do is indeed a blessing. And also who gave me the means to ensure that it reaches every corner of this country. His bones were crushed until they turned into powder and were mixed into the very mortar that built the walls of this institution. Which is the Destiny that part of the bones of every Academy student shared after the end of their passage through this plane. The other part of the bones of these former students is buried in their respective home states. I can't leave my territory, Jaime, as you yourself testified. But everyone who steps on it is subject to my influence and those who receive my blessing receive a part of me. A part that remains in the soul, but also in the body, in the bones. And it is these bones with my essence, buried in every corner of this country that guarantee my influence no matter the distance from my center of power. Every time one of our recruiters goes to visit a prospect, he takes with him a piece of Dalton on his body, a ring, a pendant. Made from the bones of deceased former students, some of these objects are so old that they were made from the bones of Dalton himself. Bone magic Jaime. Something that my own people did and that a source from Scandinavia brought to me about a century ago. And so I answered your questions. But let me get ahead of you. You're curious as to why I chose each of the others.”

Jaime was actually more concerned about reversing that situation. He had done things that he never thought he would be able to do with that single goal and now he saw no alternative to completing it. Then he let the apparition continue with his speech. - "Of course"- He replied thinking that at least he would buy some time to try to escape that trap he had found himself in.

"Liar - the boy replied without letting his smile waver - But I'm indulging myself so you'll have to put up with it. Michael Jones would become a public prosecutor who, together with the workers' union leader Jacob Miller would launch an investigation into one of the main arms of the Hartfield conglomerate after the death of Miller's twin brother in one of the Hartfield's slaughterhouses . A completely accidental death due to the drunken state of Gregory Miller, a notorious drunk stuck in his glory days as a college football player who had a career interrupted by an injury. The Hartfield Company would win the case but at the expense of a lot of money. Money that would already be compromised because Edward Chang,whom after inheriting his father's restaurant empire would transform them into a vegan chain, thus cutting one of Hartfiled Company's main contracts. To make matters worse the ore export contract for the steel industry another of the Hartfields' main sources of income would be suspended when Leonardo Reis, a staunch Brazilian nationalist, took control of his grandfather's mining company and decided to strengthen the Brazilian national industry. Crowning the disaster, Senator Jonathan Roberts managed to approve a new law increasing taxes on large fortunes. All of this being published in the country's biggest newspapers, including a particularly incisive article written by the famous political journalist Jaime Sanchez. The Hartfields are one of Dalton's biggest sources of funding, this could never happen and thanks to the good work done by both of us, Jaime it won't. Thanks."

"I didn't help you, not willingly!"

"Jaime, you chose to leave the twins under the influence of the Crows. You seduced Roberts to gain access to the club headquarters. You used, abandoned and remade Reis in Dalton's image just to achieve your goal without knowing that in doing so you achieved mine. You are mine Jaime Sanchez. And you gave me the chance to have my men in the place where the greatest dynasties in the world were born and died with secrets that could be useful to me, in the place that houses the largest unexplored area in the world, I found myself excited just thinking about what the Amazon has to offer me. You gave me an unexplored past through Chang and Reis, and promising future through the Millers. With them you gave me the opportunity to extend Dalton's ideas to millions through the screen of a cell phone. "

"I... I didn't mean..."

"Of course you wanted Jaime. You are a Crow. You accepted being the moment you sought out others of your own free will and thus sealed the contract, what came after were only the consequences.Everything happened as planned as always happens. As the board predicts. The board never makes mistakes Jaime, because I am the board. Our time It's ending. The last part of my blessing will fall on you. And as I said, it's a pitty. To be fully integrated with your brothers, you'll forget. Forget what you saw here. Forget me. You'll just know that Dalton changed you and that you are grateful for that. If it serves as compensation, know that your work is not finished yet. The old sources become my main scouts, using what is left of their light to locate other potential sources and continue with the good work. And This ends our conversation Jaime." - The boy concluded and Jaime realized that it was indeed true, that he had no escape.

"Before I go I would like to ask one more question."

"I think you've earned that right."

"Why do you do this? Those men killed you and forced you to act like this, why continue?"

"Eternity is too heavy a burden to bear without a role, boy. For a while I hated what I did as you saw for yourself. But then Dalton gave me the chance to do what I was created to do in a way that I didn't hate it. And at the same time gave me the opportunity to grow in a way that was denied to me by my own people. Although they taught me something that continues to be real to this day. This world needs warriors, leaders, the alphas of the pack. And I provide these leaders without prejudice of race, origin or sexuality. And that is why I will continue." - Understanding that the final moment had arrived, Jaime asked one last question.

"I never had a chance, did I?"

"Jaime, this is your chance. Goodbye, You have my blessing. - Jaime closed his eyes one last time. - It's time for Jace to wake up."

….

It was graduation day. Chad had been the valedictorian, praising the way of life and legacy of Dalton, drawing applause from everyone, even though they knew he was preaching to the converted. After tha he had called Senator Roberts to speak. J.B.'s father had become much more receptive to Dalton's culture after a visit there a few months earlier, even more so after Eddie and Chad's parents talked to him about his chances of running for president.

After the ceremony, a big dance was organized in the school's main hall, welcoming the families of all the graduates. The Miller twins were a sensation among the girls, being stopped all the time to take selfies or record a video. Their Tik Tok had boomed and they had already been invited to participate in talk shows and even a Netflix series. The other Crows had also shared that fame to some degree. Videos featuring the three Jays were particularly popular. The twins father to the surprise of the closed-minded community where they had been raised supported them unconditionally after a conversation held at the Academy and a good portion of land annexed to the family property.

Jace was very interested in visiting the place in the company of Caroline, the twins' younger sister, and he was not the only one to strengthen relations between the families. Melissa, his own sister, was talking to Leo and something more serious had already been established between Mike and Amelia, Chad's sister, who in turn was already engaged to the English socialite Charlotte Humphries sister of Louise, Eddie's current girlfriend, whose sister Lilly, in turn, was involved in a serious but secretly very open relationship with J.B. Only the twins were single for marketing reasons as they should be available to satisfy the desires of fans of both sexes. Which didn't mean they were inactive, because at that moment the two were leaving the room accompanied by three girls and a boy, probably for a quick orgy.

Jace suppressed his smile as he glanced across the dance floor where Mike and Chad were dancing with their respective partners, moving on to the table where Eddie and J.B. were secretly exchanging caresses while their ladies did exactly the same, and turned his eyes to where Leo, in turn, courted his sister in an undisguised way. He would have a conversation with his friend about that. Nothing would give him more pleasure than being Leo's brother-in-law with his millions of dollars, but if he somehow hurt his sister the other Crow would see an entirely different side of Jace. Finally his eyes fell on Caroline Miller and he prepared to do exactly what Leo did with his sister. He was interrupted, however, by an unknown man, clearly a Dalton alumni.

"Jaime Sanchez I have longed to meet you. I am Philip Thompson."

"Ah, of course. From the same class as Trip Hartfield. You can call me Jace Mr. Thompson, it's my nickname between brothers."

"So call me Flip, Jace. My partner Brent Woodward have wanted to talk to you for some time, but due to the nature of our work we haven't been able to attend the official meetings."

"You're scouts, aren't you? Chad mentioned that you two were the sources for his father's group."

"Yes, we were. We were much less powerful than you were. I can't tell you how much because..."

"Because you don't remember. I understand the feeling. I confess that I don't know exactly how a scout job works.

"That's why we'd like to talk to you. I know Vince Carmichael expects you to replace him one day at the head of the academy. But that's not going to make your job as a scout any easier. So why don't you wait until that job is no longer necessary to take on a position here? Until then we would like to offer you another official job offer."

"I still have college ahead of me sir."

"Our offer won't interfere with your studies, boy. You can start as an intern, paid of course. Woody and I are senior partners at Alpha, one of the biggest marketing agencies in the country and we'd like you to join us. I've read some of the your written works and they are excellent. Furthermore, constant work travels are a great way to justify absences due to scouting jobs. You will need to be in different parts of the country looking for sources and ensuring their recruitment and transfer to Dalton. If If you want to get married one day, believe me, you'll need a solid excuse for your absences. And by the way you can't take your eyes off that beautiful red-haired girl, I believe it's in your plans."- He finished with a smile that Jace couldn't help but return.

"Flip, I feel honored to accept your offer. When do I start?"

"The day after tomorrow, when you've recovered from the tiredness that redhead will give you."

"Flip, please, we are proud Dalton’s sons it takes a lot to tire us out."

….

Epilogue - 30 years later

"Jem, calm down. - Jace said with a serious tone of voice to his eighteen-year-old godson sitting next to him in the backseat of one of Alpha’s luxurious car. - If you're going to be the leader of the Crows this year you can't just be anxious for going to visit a prospect. What would your father say about that or your uncle Chad?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Jace. I'm doing my best to honor the legacy of the family and the Academy. But I can't completely avoid the anxiety. We are meeting the most powerful source in the last 30 years."

"Indeed, and do you know who was the most powerful source before him? Me. And I'm here by your side, a man from Dalton. You may be thinking you'll find some terrifying thing waiting for you, but in reality you'll find a scared boy who doesn't know why a prestigious school is offering him a scholarship. And it's up to you as president of the Crow Club to turn this scared boy into the terrifying thing. Your cousin Fritz went through this two years ago and Teddy Roberts last year. They had help from their brothers, Fritz had Eddie Miller and Teddy had Johny Miller and Mike Chang. You already have the upper hand Jem, I'm going to take over as Dalton's headmaster and take the twins with me and Leo Jr. will be there too You're covered, so put on your best smile and go to battle James Wentworth Hartfield-Jones." - He concluded as their car parked at a suburban house, making the boy relax a little.

Later while Jem was talking to the source he did the same with his father.

"In Dalton your son will be surrounded by the best professionals that the education system has to offer in addition to the company of extremely promising young people, Mr. Ansari. Jem, who is talking to your son now, is my godson and the son of the Supreme Court Judge Michael Jones, one of the youngest to hold the position during President Roberts' term. Theodore the president's grandson, studied at Dalton last year. And I know we only met and I'm taking over the institution, which may seem like a bias to you, but I studied there and I am a partner in one of the largest marketing companies in the world. From my class came great businessmen from the most diverse fields, in addition, Judge Jones himself also an Oscar-winning actor and a former football player, I'm talking about the Miller brothers, my brothers-in-law who you certainly know. Believe me you couldn't be putting Kamal in a better place."

"I believe you, Principal Sanchez. But I can't help but wonder what a place like Dalton could want with my son."

"I understand you, I thought that about myself one day, Mr. Ansari. The best answer I can give you is that I see a lot of myself in him." Jace replied with his usual arrogant smile.

#corruption #reality change #mind change #male tf #fratification #jockification

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