MInisters of Grace (Digital Devil Saga, Angel/David)
Title: Ministers of Grace
Author: laryna6
Rating: light R? for non-graphic descriptions of sex and canon character death
Prompt: June 2nd - Digital Devil Saga, Angel/David; submissive male - he preferred the view from underneath
Summary: He's dying, and she's the one begging for him to live. He's more worried about her, because his hero, the world's savior, is losing her guardian angel and he couldn't bear for her to become an avenging one.
A/N: Good to be back, for me at least. I liked writing the power dynamic in this, and I hope you like it/find it interesting too.
He’d liked to look up at her.
There would have been worse ways to die. Well, the firebombing of the clinic hadn’t been a good thing. ‘The enemy is fear. We think that it is hate, but it is fear.’ He wasn’t sure that was the exact quote, but his mind was hazy now and he had more important things to do, like comfort his wife. And pray for them all.
Jenna’d liked to watch over him.
There had always been cracks about who wore the pants in their relationship, and David’s response had been, “both of us, but she looks better in them.” Jenna had always been afraid. He wouldn’t tell people that and they’d laugh if he did, thankfully. She fought that fear by keeping control. If she controlled him, she could keep him happy so he wouldn’t leave. If she controlled him, she could keep him safe so he wouldn’t die.
They weren’t gods, and so he prayed.
He’d liked to look up at her face when she rode him, controlling the pace and also, well, he was male and she was gorgeous. She’d liked to watch his reactions, because they fed her own and she wanted control because she loved him. He had no objections to watching someone very enthusiastically do the work.
He’d majored in Religious Studies as well as Pre-med. He’d wanted to go into the third world, and it was a good idea to understand how they saw things so you wouldn’t be rude, or worse, by accident. A lot of things made a lot of sense, really.
The entire traditional male/female dynamic, for one. The species needed children to survive. They needed people to stay home and look after them. Those people needed someone to feed them. They needed to be able to rely on that person. The right approach of anyone to the Christian god of his childhood wasn’t as the strong warrior bringing home worshippers to work on the fields. It was the ‘female’ role, the submissive role.
Humans couldn’t control everything. The way pregnant women had needed someone to bring home food, humans needed someone to keep the world from ending. It was only slavery if that person didn’t care. If it wasn’t, it was love. He loved Jenna. He was the emotionally secure one in this relationship. So he’d been the one keeping her home safe, her mind sane, even if that took time away from his own career. Jenna could do so much more than he could. She was the visionary, she was the hero.
In the bible, angels had to tell the people they appeared before not to be afraid. He tried to tell her that now, because she was so afraid of losing him. It would happen. But Jenna, don’t die with me. I want to see you live on, be happy.
I don’t want to be looking down on you from above. I want to be the rock you stand on.
But he wasn’t god any more than she was. Any more than the entity she had discovered and called god because she wanted someone to have ultimate power so that she could control them and make everything right.
Even the god his parents had worshipped hadn’t been able to keep his children from betraying him again and again. Nothing changed until he stopped smiting back.
Jenna, don’t… because she was breaking, and he’d worked so hard to see her whole and beautiful. She was so afraid, she was so afraid, and…
He’d done all he could. And he couldn’t show fear for her, or she really would break because she would think he was afraid of death. He lived in this world, he had the syndrome, he’d known he would die. But, Jenna…
Fear is uncertainty. To hate is to have a target for that hate, is to be able to plan and control.
Hate was the easy way out.
We all live in glass houses, Jenna, even though I kept yours clean. Don’t start throwing stones, Jenna. You’re better than that. Jenna wouldn’t believe him if he told her that now. She was nothing. How could she be anything noble if she was the one who couldn’t save her own husband?
Would she be able to look at herself in a mirror once that of his eyes was gone?
And so he prayed for them both, because he would rather have just died than watch her die.
Author: laryna6
Rating: light R? for non-graphic descriptions of sex and canon character death
Prompt: June 2nd - Digital Devil Saga, Angel/David; submissive male - he preferred the view from underneath
Summary: He's dying, and she's the one begging for him to live. He's more worried about her, because his hero, the world's savior, is losing her guardian angel and he couldn't bear for her to become an avenging one.
A/N: Good to be back, for me at least. I liked writing the power dynamic in this, and I hope you like it/find it interesting too.
He’d liked to look up at her.
There would have been worse ways to die. Well, the firebombing of the clinic hadn’t been a good thing. ‘The enemy is fear. We think that it is hate, but it is fear.’ He wasn’t sure that was the exact quote, but his mind was hazy now and he had more important things to do, like comfort his wife. And pray for them all.
Jenna’d liked to watch over him.
There had always been cracks about who wore the pants in their relationship, and David’s response had been, “both of us, but she looks better in them.” Jenna had always been afraid. He wouldn’t tell people that and they’d laugh if he did, thankfully. She fought that fear by keeping control. If she controlled him, she could keep him happy so he wouldn’t leave. If she controlled him, she could keep him safe so he wouldn’t die.
They weren’t gods, and so he prayed.
He’d liked to look up at her face when she rode him, controlling the pace and also, well, he was male and she was gorgeous. She’d liked to watch his reactions, because they fed her own and she wanted control because she loved him. He had no objections to watching someone very enthusiastically do the work.
He’d majored in Religious Studies as well as Pre-med. He’d wanted to go into the third world, and it was a good idea to understand how they saw things so you wouldn’t be rude, or worse, by accident. A lot of things made a lot of sense, really.
The entire traditional male/female dynamic, for one. The species needed children to survive. They needed people to stay home and look after them. Those people needed someone to feed them. They needed to be able to rely on that person. The right approach of anyone to the Christian god of his childhood wasn’t as the strong warrior bringing home worshippers to work on the fields. It was the ‘female’ role, the submissive role.
Humans couldn’t control everything. The way pregnant women had needed someone to bring home food, humans needed someone to keep the world from ending. It was only slavery if that person didn’t care. If it wasn’t, it was love. He loved Jenna. He was the emotionally secure one in this relationship. So he’d been the one keeping her home safe, her mind sane, even if that took time away from his own career. Jenna could do so much more than he could. She was the visionary, she was the hero.
In the bible, angels had to tell the people they appeared before not to be afraid. He tried to tell her that now, because she was so afraid of losing him. It would happen. But Jenna, don’t die with me. I want to see you live on, be happy.
I don’t want to be looking down on you from above. I want to be the rock you stand on.
But he wasn’t god any more than she was. Any more than the entity she had discovered and called god because she wanted someone to have ultimate power so that she could control them and make everything right.
Even the god his parents had worshipped hadn’t been able to keep his children from betraying him again and again. Nothing changed until he stopped smiting back.
Jenna, don’t… because she was breaking, and he’d worked so hard to see her whole and beautiful. She was so afraid, she was so afraid, and…
He’d done all he could. And he couldn’t show fear for her, or she really would break because she would think he was afraid of death. He lived in this world, he had the syndrome, he’d known he would die. But, Jenna…
Fear is uncertainty. To hate is to have a target for that hate, is to be able to plan and control.
Hate was the easy way out.
We all live in glass houses, Jenna, even though I kept yours clean. Don’t start throwing stones, Jenna. You’re better than that. Jenna wouldn’t believe him if he told her that now. She was nothing. How could she be anything noble if she was the one who couldn’t save her own husband?
Would she be able to look at herself in a mirror once that of his eyes was gone?
And so he prayed for them both, because he would rather have just died than watch her die.