#hallucinations in mirrors series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arafilez · 1 month

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▰ ▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨

ㅤㅤ➛ ㅤiii.ㅤ EMERGENCY 𒉽 jeong yunho❛ 𓇿

🥂̸̤ㅤㅤMDNI smut, fluff ㅤ ✸ㅤyou can hack into anything and everything! except maybe jeong yunho's heartㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ w: kissing, flirting, praise kink, size kink, oral (f receiving) ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ wc: 3.2kㅤㅤ𠈔ㅤㅤ moodboard

ㅤ❛ you're the reason why i am dancing in the mirror ❜

You type away furiously in your laptop with the new code that Yeosang has sent to your base and continue changing bits of your programming code to try and infiltrate into the Z-dimension’s security system. It was hard and with the variety of codes in front of you the best thing you can do now is stay calm and concentrate. You still have time till tomorrow.

Wooyoung is almost done with the hologram of the ship, Yunho is fixing some of the hardware and you only need to crack this code. You rack your brain to find another loop you are missing, some kind of infinite series, or it might be a null loop that you have to add when you hear a loud crash. Jerking up your head from your laptop your first instinct is to run because there has been an attack.

Your second instinct is to stand in confusion as you hear Yunho scream, “What the fuck, man?” to your brother and him blabbering some excuses. Yunho shakes his head and goes back to work as you look at your brother who just winks at you mischievously. With disgust painting all your features, you set back to work ignoring Wooyoung’s whines about you being a ‘bad’ sister.

You type down the various codes again and try to work but nothing comes up as a frustrated groan leaves your lips. Should you try a completely different method or go back to the basics of a for-loop and add a simple elif loop. But wasn’t that too simple? You jerk up in surprise again as you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn around saying, “Wooyoung, I don’t have time for your shit.”

Your words dry at the back of your throat as you look at Yunho’s smiling face with the contrast of his veiny hand on your shoulder. Should a simple touch make you light-headed? No, it should not, absolutely not. “Hi Yun,” you murmur and your ears suddenly feel hot when you extend his grin looking at you.

Your insides feel like melting, but before you let your heart win, your mind interferes and you cough lightly. He also seems to get out of a trance as he says, “You can do this tomorrow, sleep for today, and you look like shit.”

“Such sweet words you say Yun!” you roll your eyes affectionately, and he chuckles. Leaning towards you he gently places a hand on your hips and whispers, “I can say more if you want me to.”

“Do I now?” you smirk lightly looking up at his tall figure as you think you see his eyes darken just a little, a smirk adorning his pretty face but almost instantly his hands leave your waist and he is gone. You exhale lightly shaking your head at your hallucinations and close your laptop.

Yunho is flirty. He will flirt with a stray cat if given a chance and you scold your heart lightly at it racing for him. Yunho didn’t mean it, he never meant it and it has always been that way. Him flirting, you flirting back and that was it.

“Gosh, stop with the heart eyes, it’s disgusting,” Wooyoung says making fake gagging sounds as you roll your eyes at your twin and get up. “So did you see that?” Wooyoung asks looking at you expectantly and you furrow your eyebrows.

“See what Wooyoung-ah?” you ask as you move around your desks turning off the projectors and look up to see his wiggling eyebrows. He smiles mischievously saying, “How he got angry when I threw that?”

“Yes, why did you even throw that thing so hard? I thought we were attacked, you piece of shit,” you scold him gritting your teeth as he makes a face at you which screams ‘I am so done with my dumb sister.’

“I did it for you, remember, how you said Yunho looks hot when angry?” Wooyoung grins and your fingers pause over the projector switch as you look up and scream, “What?”

“He. Looks. Hot. The point was made. So I did it for your eyes to be blessed,” he screams back and you walk over to him holding him by his collar. As you smack your brother's shoulder, your face is probably adorned with fifty shades of red and pink.

“Sh-shut up, and stop screaming,” you whisper-yell at him and another patch of hyena laugh comes from him as you slowly release his shirt.

“You are so gone for him, sis.”

“Am not.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You said he looked hot yesterday when he had grease in his face while he was fixing the machine,” Wooyoung cocks his eyebrows as you look away. Well a small patch of oil and grease on his right cheek made him look sexy which was no lie but the mistake was telling your hyper brother about it.

“You like him so much, it is gross,” Wooyoung speaks a little too loudly as you try to shush him but he continues, “Oh we both know you have degrading kink too, even if you try to hide it.”

“Woyo shut the fuck up,” you scream jabbing him in the side to which he just giggles like the menace he was.

“Are you guys okay?” Yunho peeks from the door and you say ‘yes’ a little too quick for your liking. Wooyoung clicks his tongue in disapproval and whispers, “What did I teach you about playing hard to get?”

You don’t pay attention to him but instead look at Yunho, staring at him quite openly as you take in his messy silver hair sprawled over his forehead and being lightly tied back with a bandana.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” Yunho chuckles leaning his tall body against the doorframe and you can hear Wooyoung snicker behind you as you look down scolding yourself for getting caught for your blatant stare.

Yunho walks in and keeping down the file he had gone to fetch walks towards your desk and you can hear Wooyoung mumble something along the lines of “Seonghwa hyung is calling me” before you can call out his bluff because Seonghwa hadn’t returned yet, he sprints off leaving you and Yunho alone in the room.

You click your tongue at your brother and his antics to “get you and Yunho laid”, his words, not yours, and know he did this on purpose. If you make a list right now it will be endless how many times your brother has actually done this.

He once locked you two in a laundry room which had another door, and once tried to lock you two in his room at a New Year’s party, instead, his overly drunk self, locked himself, successfully spinning the bottle for you two to kiss only for San to barf all over the floor, trying to send you two in a ‘seven minutes in heaven’ only for the lights to be cut off and hear Mingi scream his ears off. You appreciated his efforts but you knew this from the heart- the universe doesn’t want you and Yunho together. You knew you weren’t Yunho’s type but who was your brother to listen.

Yunho’s fingers softly caress yours as you are broken from your thoughts and he smiles softly saying, “I will help you tidy up.”

“Yun, you don’t have to,” you say softly but he hums and says, “No, I volunteer,” and places a hand on his chest as if he was taking a pledge making you giggle at him.

But in the back of your mind you know Wooyoung is right about you two being too oblivious and trying to hide your feelings by sticking to casual flirting. You push these thoughts to the back of your mind but they come back. How Yunho’s eyes had lingered on your lips and your eyes even after San barfed, how he casually slid over to your desk and hovered over your figure while his fingers rested on yours when you told him to check a code. There’s plenty of space beside you but he always does that. You know his lust-filled eyes and the tinge of jealousy in them when Yeosang practices his seducing skills on you. How his eyes lingered on your exposed neck in the last mission and then trail along your jaw to your lips making you fidget on your seat as Hongjoong was handing out your positions.

And you enjoy this too much. The little push and pull game you two keep playing, the way he gives you his attention and you bask in it. But lately it has been too much. Playful flirting has turned to intense staring, light jokes have turned into him and you being too close physically but never escalated. And your fool of a heart was falling for all these.

“What is on your mind? Me?” Yunho says coming right in front of you and you look up at his tall frame looking deep into your eyes. Earlier you would have flirted right back, but now they have started to make you lose your voice, weaken your knees, and your hands sweat. The effect it had on you now was insane. If you didn’t have any better judgement you would push him down right there on the table and take him. Or let him take you. Either way works.

You shake your head stuttering out a “no” but Yunho doesn’t ponder much leaving you to your desk as he puts his own documents down on his table. After you two were done, you left, Yunho following suit and then the door closed automatically as you two walked out. The walk is quiet, tension thick in the air when you decide to test a theory.

You are one of the best technicians here, the best hacker, so maybe you can hack yourself into Yunho’s heart too.

You trip lightly on air, very much on purpose, and wait like a damsel in distress to fall and for Yunho to catch you. His muscular arms easily slide around your back and you grin satisfactorily in your mind at your plan being successful. You open your eyes with your best-acting face on when you see the smug grin on his face.

“Did you do that on purpose?” he cocks his eyebrows at you and you get up scoffing lightly, “You wish.”

You feel dizzy seeing his face as he leans close to you and his lips hover just above yours as he says, “I wish for a lot of things, you know?” You draw in a sharp breath at the close proximity but Yunho swiftly moves away, opens his door and calls out, “Don’t trip anymore on your way, I am not there to catch you, you know?” followed by a cheeky grin.

You enter your room, your thoughts screaming only Yunho’s name and you keep thinking about him even when you make yourself comfortable under your covers. God he is making you suffer so much, it has been an hour since the incident but his thoughts are unbearable, if only you can hold him by his collar and push him against the wall and make out.

And your brain clicks.

This is it.

This is what you have been missing. A firewall. The code is for breaking the firewall to get to the main security system. You scramble up, throwing your sheets down and putting a jacket over your t-shirt and shorts you walk out with your ID. You open the door of the lab and run to your table taking out the papers sprawling them on the table and typing out the code in the computer.

And it worked.

You jump in joy lightly and send a text to Hongjoong about the success which you knew he would check in the morning. You stumble lightly, tipsy from your happiness and you bump into a muscular chest behind you.

Yunho.

Yunho?

Shouldn’t he be sleeping?

“Why are you up?” his deep voice rumbles making goosebumps dance against your skin and you can feel your insides turning mushy.

“Just had to finish this,” you reply, voice coming out much breathier than you intend it to be and you glance at him just to retract your eyes because of his own boring into yours.

“Hmm? What you got there?” he hums lowly, his tall frame leaning over your back as his hands swipe open the computer while the other goes around your waist and holds the desk. You become a bit light-headed as soon as his cologne hits your nose and you inhale it sighing carelessly.

His head is now almost on your shoulder while your body is stiff as you grip the desk more rigidly when you intake the view of his veiny hands around you and on the mouse casually swiping through the code you had cracked earlier. Your breath becomes unstable as you realise the proximity and you curse your mind for liking the warmth of Yunho’s body pressed against your back.

“Well, Hongjoong is going to be satisfied,” he breaths out and you can feel it tickle your senses as you hum and look at his face. He looks at you back and for a moment you feel everything stop. His eyes glaze into yours and you look back into his dark ones and wonder what bliss could possibly come.

Yunho is so close to kissing you. His eyes are fixated on your lips and his whisper sends a warm flush all over your body, “If we do this, there’s no going back.” You are in a haze and you whisper, “Yes,” and it barely makes it past your lips before Yunho kisses you.

And suddenly the air is knocked out of you. This was an emergency situation, an uproar went in your head.

Jeong Yunho is kissing you, his lips on yours and you push down all questions in the back of your mind and kiss him back. The kiss becomes impatient almost immediately as he grips your waist and holds your cheek with his other hand manoeuvring the kiss. You kiss him back feverishly, lips clashing harshly against each other and you tangle your hands in his hair tugging at them harshly.

He pulls away for a breath of air and you pant lightly as you look up to his lust-filled eyes and he hoarsely speaks up, “My room.” The walk through the corridor is a blur and you cling onto Yunho’s arms as he quickly opens the door and closes it after you two enter.

Pushing you against the door he kisses you again and swipes his tongue over your lips and you grant him access as a slow, elicit moan leaves your mouth. Fighting for dominance is not useful as Yunho taps your thighs twice and you comply with him jumping and locking your legs along his torso as he carries you to his bed.

Lying you down gently Yunho’s eyes run over your messy figure before he asks, “Are you sure?”

Your heart melts at the sincerity in his tone and you nod a “yes” quickly not wanting to waste any more time as Yunho dives in for your neck. He presses light open-mouth kisses along your jawline before moving his head and sucking harshly on your neck. You moan loudly as he continues nibbling delighted at your response and presses a light kiss adorning his work after.

You start to become impatient and almost rip open his shirt and he chuckles lowly saying, “Slow down, kitten.” You exhale lightly at the nickname and watch him pull your t-shirt over your head and throw it to the other side of the bed. You run your nails through his toned chest drooling over the perfect texture and he chuckles.

“Damn no bra, aren’t you naughty, kitten?” he slurs his words lightly and you throw your head back in pleasure as he takes one of your perked-up nipples and fiddles with it.

“I-I was just-" You try to finish your sentence and he hums bringing his voice lower by an octave and looks at you almost challenging you to finish the sentence. “I was just going to sleep so I had no bra o-oh my fuck Yunho,” you moan loudly as he dips down suddenly sucking your other nipple. You arch your back in pleasure and his hands slide down your waist playing with the hem of your shorts before yanking them off along with your panties.

The cold air hits your clit making you shiver from the sensation and he smirks looking at your state. Arousal drips from your vagina and he places a long finger collecting them and pushes his finger in you. You cry loud at the immense pleasure you feel and you see his pants straining as he moans too and says, “Fuck, you are beautiful.”

He scissors another finger inside you and then adds another and you moan his name loudly as he hits your g-spot frequently and picks up pace and you feel your stomach tightening. You are close, so close when he suddenly pulls out his fingers and pants and you open your eyes at him desperately.

“Need you,” he moans and quickly opens his pants and boxers and you almost gasp at the sight. You knew he was big, but this was a whole new level and you drool at it. Yunho would be proud but right now he was horny and needy and needed to be inside you badly.

He hovers over positioning himself and pushes inside you and you moan his name out loud as he stills himself. When you tap him to move he obeys and picks up his pace, his strong hands holding your hips down as he slams into you. “Fuck faster, Yun,” you scream and he coos at the nickname.

“Fuck baby aren’t you small and tight?” he moans explicitly when he feels the tip of his cock on your stomach, “All for me.” Your eyes roll back and you chant his name feeling your high build up fast at his pace.

His cock slams against your walls making you light-headed as you barely murmur an ‘I’m close’ and you can hear him grunt something along the lines of ‘Me too.’ With one last long-drawn moan you cum, your high getting released rapidly. He pulls himself out before coming all over your stomach.

You pant lightly, slowly returning to reality as Yunho gets up to get some wet tissues from the bedside table. You watch him silently as he cleans you and himself up while you lie and adore his face that was sculpted by the gods. His awkward clearing of throat brings you back from your trance and you look at the shy smile that makes its way into his face.

“Listen urm, I like you, y/n,” he speaks shyly gazing at your fingers which were now intertwined with his and you smile back saying, “I like you too, Yun.”

“Oh good,” he exhales and you laugh at his puppy-like demeanour and run your fingers through his grey hair as he leans into your touch. He brings his lips down to kiss you and you can feel his smile as you kiss him back softly as he holds your hands in his. Pulling back he puts another peck on your lips as you two become a giggling mess under the warm covers.

✸ㅤ ara's notesㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ i am happy for this one yayay lmao i mean a bit self indulgent but okay ig ㅤㅤ»ㅤ series mlistㅤ ateez mlist ㅤ main mlist ㅤ naviㅤㅤ𠈔

✸ㅤ taglistㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ @haneagerr @tunaasan @evidive @huachengsbestie01 @philijack @atiny-lizbeth @chxnnii @nakiiko @therealcuppicake ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ comment here or in series mlist to be added or removedㅤㅤ𠈔

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cambrinkisbae · 26 days

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✧.*Not Friends pt 5*.✧

Paige Bueckers x reader

summary- it was a huge relief to finally realize that you didn't hate Paige Bueckers

word count- 2.9k

themes:

-fluff

-slight angst if you an even call it that

-homophobia

A/N - I'm so so so sorry for the delay. I lost so much motivation for this series but this back now. I hope you guys like this part!!! I did not spell check btw...

there was only a hazy memory of looking at who I thought was Paige in the eye and feeling tears well up on my waterline. why did everything have to fall apart in this order. the entire time that I stared at Paige, my brain kept telling me that I was hallucinating and that I was really Abby but no. as soon as the blonde spoke I couldn't help but break down. the thought of almost fucking the one girl that I don't believe I'm good enough for had to be the most sickening thing to ever imagine. of course Paige just had to be a good person and wipe my tears from my eyes before they even fell. the mood switched quickly. I went from confusion to comfort. Paige's hand were set on each side of my waist but not In a way that made me feel like I was being topped. it felt like she was holding me. gently. I loved that. once I comprehended the fact that it was Paige who was holding me, even more tears fell. I felt her hands moved to my back as she helped me stand up from the edge of the bed. I walked straight to the mirror to make sure that all of this was real even though in the back of my head I knew it was.

every moment that had to do with Paige before this, I would see it as a bad thing to be so close to her. yet the feeling and sight of her holding my waist in the mirror felt so right. the feelings of her arms resting around my almost bare skin reminded me just how badly I wanted to be with her. even though a couple days ago a part of me felt like we had to be friends, I knew that I couldn't hide it for long. then the feeling of guilt rushed over my head. how could I have been so mean to her just because she showed me love?what if it had been ruining her since? I couldn't bare to know that if Paige was hurt, it was my fault. the tears that were once embarrassment now turned into guilt. "I'm..so so sorry Paige." my head dipped into the palms of my hands as I tried to cover my obvious tears. the blonde immediately played her hand against my back and rubbed her thumb back and forth for comfort. I spun around, shaking her hand off of my skin. no. there is no way shes comforting me after I hurt her. a small and sharp breath left her lips once her hand left my back. I paced around the room trying to find sense of what I was thinking. "hey hey its ok..." Paige didn't hesitate to pull me into her arms even if I was pulling away. I wanted nothing but to stay in her arms. no words exchanged just small breaths as I sobbed into her sweatshirt.

"Paige it is not ok. I- I fucking hurt you when all you did was love me. you don't deserve that." my voice was slightly muffled against the cotton that covered her chest.the last thing I wanted was to hurt her. all Paige did was hold me into her. arms wrapped around my waist, fingers resting against my tailbone. my sobs began to slow, silencing the moment between us. I felt Paige slowly swaying the both of us side to side. before I could speak again, she gently pulled my face away from her chest with a hand now placed against my jawline. she still stayed silent, just staring into my eyes. and of course I couldn't look away. "I don't care if you hurt me. I just-i just need you know that I love you." I did. still do actually. her voice soothed me so effortlessly. it slowed down the pacing doubts that went through my brain.

only now did all my other senses came back. before it was just thinking about how I treated Paige and the tears that followed those thoughts. now my eyes were open and I could see Paiges sharp features that seemed soft through my glossy eyes. her eyes still had a hint of gray in dark lighting. her lips were still pink as ever. her hair wasn't in her usual ponytail. it was falling down her shoulders perfectly. her natural waves peeking through. she was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt with plaid pajama bottoms. now I noticed that my hands had made their own way to Paige's hips. her body seemed less tense as mine. the sweatshirt was thin enough for me to feel the outline of her toned abs. this were the exact things I thought about when I didn't want to stay friends with Paige. "are you ok?" Paige's voice woke me up from my trance. I looked back up at her eyes and nodded softly. "mhm." all the previous doubts of her love for me and my love for her had disappeared into the abyss by now. the only thing I doubted is whether we were going to sleep in my room or hers.

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the next morning I woke up feeling Paige's hot breath against my ear. my head was peacefully resting on her chest. we ended up in her room. her hand was glued to the small of my back just like I had predicted it would be if this situation ever happened. when my eyes blinked open, the first thing they saw was Paige's hair tangled around her own head. my reflex was to just run my fingers through her blonde locks. and that I did. this almost immediately woke her up but there was still a smile on her lips when she realized that I was trying to comb her hair with my bare hands. I pulled my hands away and pushed myself up closer to her face and hesitated to place a kiss on her lips. so instead I kissed her cheek. Paige quickly pulling my lips into hers gave me the idea that didn't enjoy just a kiss on the cheek. the kiss was short but I still enjoyed every second of it. just as I was getting more into the kiss, Paige grabbed onto my hips and flipped me over on my back. I let out a loud squeal and attempted to flip back over but Paige kept me down as she kissed around my lips, moving down to my neck. a couple giggles slipped out the lower her lips got before I finally pushed her off and took my turn. after going back and forth a couple times, there was a knock on the door. Paige's hands were slowly slipping under my shirt when Azzi knocked on the door. it made sense since it was 9 in the morning and Paige still wasn't out ready for practice but it still startled the both of us.

Paige groaned before standing up and dragging her self to the door. she opened it to see Azzi's face giving her a 'get the fuck out here right now' look. she had her hand on her hip and everything. "why are you still in bed-" Azzi looked behind Paige's shoulder and locked eyes with me. my face froze and I slowly hid myself with the bed covers. "I don't even want to know." Azzi slowly backed away from the door frame and yelled out as she walked down the hallway " be ready in 30 minutes!" Paige turned around and shut the door before jumping right back into bed to give a couple more kisses on my lips. she then stood up and walked to her bathroom before brushing her hair and teeth. Paige was one who refused to take care of her skin unless someone reminds her. "wash your face Paige." I stayed in bed, scrolling on my bed while she rushed to get ready. "could you come hold my hair please." usually someone else would help Paige with her hair but waking up late changed that this morning. so I stood up and held her hair until both braids were finished. I spun her around and covered her eyes while spraying hairspray on her top of her head. before she had the chance to get up and get changed, I couldn't help but placing another kiss on her lips.

it was nerve racking how quickly we changed around each other. just two days ago I pushed her out of my room while she let me know her love was basically endless and now here I was initiating a kiss with her after helping with her hair. I was here imagining all the night and mornings after this. holding onto her waist after a game. making her breakfast when shes running late. braiding her hair for fun and for serious times. I could see it all right in front of my eyes just by looking into her eyes. I cannot believe I didn't feel all of this before. I cannot BELIEVE these thoughts weren't running through my head when I very obviously heard Paige tell me that she loved me.

Paige walked out of the bathroom in her t shirt and shorts and I held a pair of her shoes in my hands. I waved them in her face as she looked around for them. "right here baby." Paige's head practically snapped towards me. I could seriously here a bone crack. "what?" no other words left my mouth once I realized what I said. fuck. "what did you call me?" Paige's hands were now wrapped around my waist, slowly pulling me closer and closer to her. "nothing.." I said under my breath before Paige pulled me into a very aggressive kiss, forcing me to drop the shoes in my hands. "don't be shy." Paige whispered in my ear before pulling away and putting on her shoes. I was in a tank top and shorts while my hair was pulled into a messy bun. I looked like I just rolled out of bed, which I kind of did, but I still followed Paige out the door and to practice so that I could watch her. Azzi was sitting on a bench outside while waiting for Paige but she sprung up when me and the blonde finally walked out. my hand was interlocked with hers while the three of us walked to Paige's car.

the moment that all the girls saw me and Paige walking into the gym, holding hands, a bunch of 'aw's' and 'ooh's' were exchanged. as much as I tried to ignore them, I couldn't help but turn red at the sound. everything was going fine. Paige and the rest of her team had smiles plastered on her face the entire time I was there but my own smile dropped when I saw Abby walk through the doors. why would she be here? how was I going to explain shit to her? all she did was send a smile across the gym while she walked into the lockers. I looked down at my phone to see a text from her that I had got earlier this morning.

abby

hey are you going to be at the basketball practice today. I was wondering if we could talk.

i read the message then set my phone down silently. a rush of panic ran through my head and didn't budge for a while. when I looked back up, I saw Abby walking right towards me. she waved at me while walking up the stairs that led to her bleachers I was sitting on. she didn't hesitate to sit down right next to me along with my bag, and Paige's.

"hey did you get my text this morning?"

"oh I just saw it. what did you want to talk about?"

"well I know we've only known each other for a little while but you seem like a really sweet person and I was wondering if you would want to go-"

just like that, Abby was cut off by Paige yelling from across the gym.

"ice wants to know if we are together y/n!"

my eyes widened along with Abby's. I looked at Paige with a very forced smile on my lips. a let out a held back laugh and looked back at Abby then back down at Paige.

"what do you think?" I yelled back.

obviously I was with Paige and I loved her so much but it was still difficult to say that in front of Abby. the only other girl I've slightly caught feelings for since I transferred. I mean I fully stared at her jawline of all places. but here I was, planning out how I was going to reject her.

"oh. I see. its ok."

i look at Abby and felt nothing but guilt. as much as I love Paige, I didn't want to hurt Abby in any way possible. her voice was so dull after being so energetic coming up to talk to me. it practically ripped my heart out to hear that energy leaving her. of course I didn't let this get to me as deeply as I'm describing it because I mean, I'm dating the Paige Bueckers. who am I to ask for any more?

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as soon as practice was over, I had to get ready to go out with a couple of friends. I had met a couple girls through volleyball and we got close very quickly. the day that I kicked Paige out,I decided it was the right thing to make plans with friends so me, Ella, Brooklyn, Adeline, and Serenity made a plan to go out to the park every Saturday and we were going to stick to it. all the girls made a pact to bring one food item each time. for the first time, I brought things to make mini cucumber sandwiches. this time Ella brought watermelon, Brooklyn brought a box of cupcakes, Adeline brought stuff to make mini pizza, and Serenity brought all sorts of drinks. we all fought over who would bring a blanket but we ended up agreeing on taking turns each Saturday and this week Ella brought a pink and white plaid blanket. once everyone got to the park we set everything up and took pictures before giving life updates that went on forever.

"I have a girlfriend now..."

i said while stuffing watermelon in my mouth. everyone immediately started flooding me with questions, scooting close and closer towards me. I shooed them away while setting down my plate of watermelon and preparing myself to explain the complexity of meeting and getting with Paige. by the time I was done explaining, everyone's faces were in awe with looks of lust in their eyes. knowing that there were people in my life who actually cared about my love life felt nice. my old friends would've ignored the word "girlfriend"} every time it came out of my mouth. yet the second that a boy was brought up, everyone was invested. it was refreshing to surround myself around people who gave a shit.

after I answered around fifty questions about Paige, I couldn't stop myself from asking the girls about their own love lives. I adore listening to how head over heels people are for their own partners. I made sure to give everyone a chance to talk because I wouldn't want to leave anyone out. first, Brooklyn told me about her new talking stage and almost everyone congratulated her for finally joining the in a talking stage club. except for Serenity, she despised when her friends fall in love, but mainly because she cares so much. if anyone of her friends gets hurt in her peripheral vision, that person who hurt them would end up six feet under. then Ella went on about her girlfriend who shes been with for 2 years now but still treated the relationship like a middle school crush. I mean giggling and kicking her feet. obviously Serenity was single and did not plan on changing that anytime soon. Adeline was just asked out by a guy shes liked for three months now. we all hugged her and giggled a long with her while she talked about how dark his eyes are and how good he smells or whatever.

by the time everyone was done sharing about their lives, the blanket was scrunched up under us and there were plates scattered everywhere, a long with cups and utensils. we all began to clean up before walking to a sunny part of the grass and passed around a volleyball. this quite literally felt like the last day of 8th grade but it still felt so special to just enjoy what you enjoy with people that you feel comfortable around. so we played volleyball until the sun was about to set and then we got up and Adeline drove around the town, dropping the girls off one my one until we reached campus, where she dropped me off. I waved goodbye and walked up to my dorm. I didn't expect Paige to be sitting on my bed, working on a project while playing some random Drake song in the background. she continued to hum along to the lyrics until she looked up to see me leaning on the doorway. "why my room of all places?" Paige had a smug smile on her lips while shrugging her shoulders. "why not?"

#paige bueckers #lesbian #nika muhl #basketball #uconn wbb #uconhuskies #not friends #paige x reader #wbb

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art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 9 months

Text

Behold, a bracket!

Text form below the cut because trying to copy all the 256 into the alt text sounded.... horrifying. Warning for 128 matchups, seriously, this list is long, and so I've avoided adding the artists until the polls.

a note: the pinned post has started misbehaving, so only open polls will be directly linked. closed polls instead have the results page linked in the set header, all the polls are linked from there

Set 1

The Lament for Icarus (Miao He) vs The Lament for Icarus (Herbert Draper)

The angel came to me in a fever hallucination, perched upon my bed as I returned from the bathroom. vs Sweet Brown Snail

Figures vs A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrery

Happy Shoppers vs Hubble Deep Field

Lovers Painting vs Bath Curtain

Dr. Helen Taussig vs Une Martyre

Orangoutang étranglant un sauvage de Bornéo (Orangutan strangling a Borneo savage) vs Can’t Help Myself

Rape vs Technicolor Hiroshima

Set 2

A Walk at Dusk vs Based on “Autoportrait with the Model” by Maria-Rayevska Ivanova

Diary Page vs Les Jours Gigantesques (The Titanic Days)

Dead of Night vs You Won't

Christina's World vs Bobby

Untitled (I’m Turning Into A Specter Before Your Very Eyes And I’m Going To Haunt You) vs Two Sisters (On the Terrace)

Sharecropper vs Lustmord

The Parca and the Angel of Death vs Untitled (Zdzisław Beksiński)

Stress vs The Fallen Angel

Set 3

Device to Root Out Evil vs Travelling Light

Diana vs Fifty Days at Iliam: The Fire that Consumes All before It

The Plains, from Memory vs Exotic Bodies

Doubting Thomas vs Self-Portrait in the Bathroom Mirror

Empty Nest vs Somebody Fell From Aloft

Anguish vs If I Died

Cat in Obsolete Bath vs You're Not Boring Anymore

Salvator Mundi (Savior of the World) vs Untitled (billboard of an empty unmade bed)

Set 4

There Will Be No Miracles Here vs Symphony of the Sixth Blast Furnace

Fox Hunt vs Tarpaulin

Khajuraho Group of Monuments vs Ranakpur Jain Temple

ปราสาทสัจธรรม (The Sanctuary of Truth) vs Grande Panorama de Lisboa

Heroic Head of Pierre de Wissant, One of the Burghers of Calais vs The Weather

The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit vs If this is art

Statue of Vincent and Theo van Gogh vs Jeanne d’Arc écoutant les voix (Joan of Arc listening to the Voices)

Fountain vs Judith Slaying Holofernes

Set 5

Cueva de las Manos (Cave of Hands) vs Cave of El Castillo

Chauvet Cave Bear vs Uffington White Horse

Laocoön and His Sons vs Winged Victory of Samothrace

Crouching Aphrodite vs Statue of Taweret

Guardian Figure vs Kūya-Shonin (Saint Kuya)

Ancient Greek doll vs Arena #7 (Bears)

Enbu (炎舞) (Dancing in the Flames) vs Yearning Shadows

Belfast to Byzantium vs Freedom

Set 6

The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayan vs Portraits

The Blood Mirror vs Nighthawks

Electric Fan (Feel it Motherfuckers): Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate vs "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)

Lady Agnew of Lochnaw vs Forgotten Dreams

Saint Bride vs Pixeles (a group of 9 works)

War Pieta vs The Sunset

The Handmaidens of Sivawara Preparing the Sacred Bull at Tanjore for a Festival vs Ajax and Cassandra

Nāve (Death) vs Abstraction

Set 7

Yes vs Meeting on the Turret Stair

Hacked to Death II vs Stańczyk

Closeness Lines Over Time vs Voice of Fire

The Maple Trees at Mama, the Tekona Shrine and Tsugihashi Bridge vs Portrait of Sir Thomas More

Survival Series: In a Dream You Saw a Way vs Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre

Death blowing bubbles vs The Kitchen Table Series

Painting 1946 vs In the Grip of Winter

Untitled (Black and Gray) vs NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt

Set 8

Blue Plate Special vs Red Cedar

Palace of Fine Arts vs Mosque–Cathedral of Córdoba

Le Château des Pyrénées (The Castle of the Pyrenees) vs Susanna and the Elders, Restored - X-Ray

Moby Dick vs Viva la Vida, Watermelons

Venus Envy Chapter One (Of the First Holy Communion Moments Before the End) vs how to look at art

St. Sebastian vs Untitled #12

Carroña vs The invincible one

Untitled (Two Dogs) vs The Dog

SECOND HALF

Set 9

David (Donatello) vs David (Michelangelo)

The Other Side vs The Temptation of St. Jerome

Seated Woman with Bent Knees vs Starry Night

Headdress - Shadae vs Untitled for the Image Flow's Queer Conscience exhibit

Woman with Dead Child (Frau mit totem Kind) vs Les Amants (The Lovers)

Siroče na majčinom grobu (Orphan on Mother's Grave) vs You Make My World a Better Place to Find

Fighting Against SARS Memorial Architectural Scene (弘揚抗疫精神建築景觀) vs Fallingwater

Resting vs The Hull

Set 10

Olive Trees vs Worship

Glow vs Wheatfield with Crows

Study after Velázquez's Portrait of Pope Innocent X vs Untitled (He Plays Very Badly)

D.I.Y. by John Wiswell vs The Tragedy

Judith and the Head of Holofernes vs Beethovenfries (Beethoven Frieze)

The Memory of Me (How Could I Forget) vs oh god i had a really big epiphany about love and personhood but i’m too drunk for words

I am happy because everyone loves me vs 瀕危形態 (Endangered Forms)

Three Scaffolders vs Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan

Set 11

San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk vs Water-Lilies, Reflection of a Weeping Willow

The Grief of the Pasha vs Monolith in Vigeland Sculpture Park

Passion vs Space Diner

Hamlet and Ophelia vs Two Earthlings

Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth vs Seer Bonnets

Photograph from "SNAP OSAKA" Collection vs Clytemnestra after the Murder

“Untitled” (Perfect Lovers) vs The Lovers (TIE)

Kedai Ubat Jenun vs Orange Store Front

Set 12

The Apotheosis of War vs Portrait of the Dancer Aleksandr Sakharov

Julie Manet vs Mouth

The Icebergs vs Kaleidoscope Cats III

Maman vs Caza Nocturna (Night Hunt)

The Book of Kells Folio 188r: Luke carpet page vs Ardagh Chalice

Yusuf and Zulaikha vs Dome of the Rock mosaics

Rowan Leaves and Hole vs Untitled (prisonhannibal)

Le Désespéré (The Desperate Man) vs The Dedication

Set 13

Deimos vs Dog and Bridge

The Mocking of Christ vs Prudence

The Broken Column vs Siberian Ice Maiden shoulder tattoo

Transi de René de Chalon (Cadaver Tomb of René of Chalon) vs Head of Christ

The Day vs Spirit of Haida Gwaii

Eleanor Boathouse at Park 571 vs Jatiya Sangsad Bhaban জাতীয় সংসদ ভবন (National Parliament House)

Juventud de Baco (Bacchus Youth) vs Barges on the Seine

Oath of the Horattii closeup vs Visit hos Excentrisk Dam (Visit to an eccentric lady)

Set 14

Christ Crucified (With Donor) vs St. Francis

Thunder Raining Poison vs Piazza d'Italia

The Grove vs Among the Waves

Pintura Mural de Alarcón vs Sagrada Família stained-glass windows

Noonday Heat vs La Dame à la licorne (The Lady and The Unicorn)

Matroser i Gröna Lund (Sailors in Gröna Lund) vs Gielda Plakatu

Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks vs The Garden of Earthly Delights

Kuoleman puutarha (The Garden of Death) vs Haavoittunut enkeli (The Wounded Angel)

Set 15

i've wasted a lifetime pretending to be me vs da oracle

minus #37 vs Panel from Fun Home

Excerpt from illustrated edition of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner vs La Mort de Marat (The Death of Marat)

The Veil vs Düsseldorf 4 (Museum Kunst Palast)

Capriccio vs Zodiac calendar for La Plume

The official imperial portrait of empress dowager Cixi vs José y Maria

Blooming Lilacs vs Lágrimas De Sangre (Tears of Blood)

An Interlude vs Boy Staring at an Apparition

Set 16

Mermer Waiskeder: Stories of the Moving Tide vs The Gran Hotel Ciudad de México Art Nouveau interior

Unfinished Painting vs To Arms!

Memorial to a Marriage vs The Island

Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn vs A Few Small Nips

Saturn Devouring His Son vs Guernica

Fairy Princesses vs Lamentation over the Dead Christ

Mummy with An Inserted Panel Portrait of a Youth vs Little Girl Looking Downstairs at Christmas Party

Agnus vs The Cup Of His Murders Is Flowing Over And In His Coat Shall Be Many Curses

#art that fucks you up tournament #announcement #links are in the read more!

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obae-me · 1 year

Note

Hello! I love your writing! Especially your sick fics. Would you be willing to write one with mammon? Possibly just forcing a very sick/stressed reader to rest. Or if you want to go further the fever getting high enough for reader to hallucinate and they keep trying to get up and he's trying to stop her. Either would be very appreciated 😊

Yeeessss, I will always write a good sickfic! It’s one of my favorite tropes, it’s just too good! Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you enjoy!

_____________________________________

Let's Go Home

---

"...This isn't good..." Whispering, you looked into the mirror, not that you required a reflection to be able to tell. The facts were simple. You were coming down with something. There was a dark corruption stirring and settling inside your body. It felt off, and you could easily assume why. It didn't help that your throat was sore either. A telling sign if there ever was one. Of course you would have the luck to catch something just before a big assignment was due. Now you could spend the next few days being sick and stressed. Yay for you. The dread and anxiousness did little to ease the symptoms that seemed to slowly creep up on you the more you woke up. As much as you'd like to throw yourself back into bed, you couldn't afford to miss these next few days of classes. So, tugging on your uniform with harsh irritated movements, you headed downstairs.

Breakfast was already done for the most part, the sounds of the table being cleared and the last few munches of Beel could be heard from behind the dining room door. You'd given up food this morning for that last little bit of rest. You'd need as much as you could get right now. You could only hope the brothers didn't find your absence suspicious. If they knew you weren't feeling well...you could only imagine the kind of hovering they would do. They meant well, truly, you knew as such, but sometimes they never knew how to let you breathe. Plus, they did have a tendency to overreact, and you didn't need seven different worried voices buzzing through your head when it felt like it was buzzing enough already.

Adjusting your school bag, you twisted the handle to the entrance hall open, ready to make the journey to RAD on your own. That had been the plan, but a demon-shaped wrench was thrown into it. Mammon went through a short series of varying emotions, all of which could be seen plainly on his face as his eyebrows danced up and down. He had been pleased to see you, then confused, then panicked as he looked over his shoulder to ensure none of his brothers were following him out before shutting the door behind him. After that, he seemed rather smug about the fact that it seemed you two were going to head off to school alone together. "Mornin'!" He spoke softer than he normally did, trying to keep this little moment a secret. He slipped out of the main entrance you'd already opened and pulled you outside by the sleeve around your elbow. As the door shut behind you both, he stretched, his arms straight up above his head. He pulled them tightly before his hands dropped back to his sides. "Missed ya at breakfast--I mean, I didn't miss you, I just meant I didn't see ya there," he proclaimed, a little flustered but apparently getting more adjusted to sharing his feelings with you. "Stay up a little too late, huh?"

You remained silent for a moment, focusing on trying to sound as normal as possible. Although, as you attempted to reply, your throat squeaked out the answer. Clearing your throat in an attempt to sound clearer only made the pain in your esophagus worse. Instead, you just nodded your head, hoping that it would suffice.

Suffice it hardly did. Mammon already seemed suspicious, nearly making you sweat under the pressure. Or perhaps that was caused by something else... "You alright? Something seems off with you today.

"Mmhm," you hummed affirmingly, giving him a smile to show that you were fine. With any luck he'd just write off your strange behavior as lack of sleep. Before he could investigate any further, you took rapid steps down the path towards RAD, feeling his eyes track you while you did so. But for now, it seemed you were safe.

Classes at RAD had hardly ever felt so grueling. They were always difficult, seeing as how they were all about subject material you didn't even know existed until you'd been dropped down here. Now that you were sick, focusing almost seemed impossible. But you had to. You had to pay attention. There was a test coming up, and if you got another bad grade... You couldn't stand it, the look on the other's faces whenever you did. With pity. Or even worse, like they expected it. Like you were nothing more than just a human who couldn't hardly be expected to do well. Is that why you had been pushing yourself so hard these last few weeks? Of course you had to fall ill right when all that hard work was supposed to pay off.

The bell for lunch rang cacophonously through the halls. Other demons grabbed their bags and scrambled for freedom. You remained seated till the herd thinned, slinging the bag over your shoulder. Just a little longer...Just a few more classes. You could do this. You would do this. While a demon would've given up already out of temptation, you would show everyone a human's determined spirit!

Outside seemed like a nice place to spend the break. Fresh air might do you good, not to mention it would be quiet. As for lunch...Hm, what would you do? You didn't pack anything this morning...and Devildom food wasn't exactly easy on a sick human's stomach. Maybe you still had some snacks for Beel packed away somewhere in your bag. You stepped through the halls as you rummaged through your things, eyes straining to look into the darker depths for something that might provide you temporary sustenance. If you tried to skip a meal, Beel would know. Somehow he always knew, and a disappointed Beel was ten times worse than a disappointed Lucifer.

"Oi! Watch it!" Two hands quickly grabbed your shoulders, tugging you backwards and slightly off to the side. You raised your head as it happened, able to glance forward at one of RAD's stone pillars that occasionally adorned the walls. You were about to face whoever grabbed you only to be turned around against your will. Mammon's hands lowered, trailing down to your upper arms where he firmly grasped them. "You're kiddin' me, right? Are you really that stupid to be walkin' face-first into the walls?" He sounded astounded. Exasperated. You knew that he had the tendency to sound like that when he was simply just concerned, but somehow the tone still dug into you anyway. You looked away from him, shrugging off his hands and heading down the hall again. "Wait!" Mammon lunged, reaching out and grabbing the nearest part of you. Your hand.

The action had you stop, but you stayed where you were, looking away from him partially out of spite but also because you didn't want your secret to slip. Mammon grasped your hand a little tighter, his palm moving against yours till he seemed to find where his hand fit perfectly. He was warm. Hopefully he would be too distracted by his embarrassment to notice that you were almost warmer. And not from the embarrassment. Perhaps you were worse off than you figured.

"I didn't mean to come off so harsh, You know I didn't mean it that way," he spoke, his voice softer than usual. You still looked away from him, waiting for a real apology. You could hear him shift on his feet, uncomfortable with the silent treatment, although most of it was due to your throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice like that." Better, but not all. You tugged a little on his arm to tell him to try again. "And for callin' ya stupid. I know you're not." You sighed, taking the apology and turning to face him once more. "You're weirding me out today. Somethin''s been bothering me all day-- actually, this whole week-- but I didn't know why. What's going on with ya?" He looked deep into your eyes as if he could pull the answer out from there. It was hard to look at him with such a genuinely concerned face. He almost looked wounded that you would work so hard to keep something from him. Maybe somewhere in his mind, he felt as if he did something to deserve your actions.

You sighed, head drooping a little. "I don't...feel great," you whispered, your voice weak, coming out still a little scratchy despite the low volume. "I'll be okay."

"Not great?" He raised an eyebrow, dropping his hold on your hand to raise it up, approaching your forehead. "Like sick or somethin'?" Suddenly his eyes widened. "You're warm! Freakishly warm! I'll go get Lucifer--"

"No! That's not--" You pressed a hand to your throat as you swallowed, the pain making your fingers tremble. You had raised your voice a little too much. "I can make it through the day. Don't bother him."

He shook his head a bit at you, eyes narrowing. "Ya don't look like you can make it that long, we should get some help and go home."

"I can't, Mammon. I have to go to class. I can't let my grades slip lower."

With that, he actually huffed, almost scoffing in a sort of confused laughter. "Screw grades! This is you we're talkin' about!" One hand settled on his hip, the other gesturing as he talked. "Who cares about a few grades?"

"I do!" Your voice raised again, emotions as well as pain brought a few tears to your eyes. "I'm one of the exchange students. Everyone already looks at me like I'm destined for failure, like I'm not cut out for the Devildom, like it's only to be expected because I'm nothing more than a simple human. I'm going to prove them wrong. So if I have to suffer through a few classes while I'm sick, so what?" You stood your ground, mouth a tight frown.

Mammon took a step back, a bit stunned at your tone, but he seemed to understand. Although you could tell he was beating himself up a little on the inside. Had he looked at you like that? Had he made you feel that way? "So you've been stressed, huh? It's worn ya down." You couldn't quite deny that statement. The demon of Greed shook his head a little. "Hey, can you promise me something?"

Exhausted by your small outburst, you pressed the back of your own hand to your head, shoulders sagging. "Depends on what it is."

"Can you forgive me?"

You could only raise an eyebrow at that strange question. "Forgive you for what?"

All the sudden you felt yourself being swept up, body off the ground, your vision a blur of colors. Mammon's arms held you close, preventing you from falling in your small struggle. "Grades might be important to you, but...you're important to me. Let's go home." He watched your head fall against him dejectedly before rushing down the halls.

---

Your head had felt light the entire way home. Everything was filled with that dreary fuzziness that came with dreams. You didn't pull yourself back together till you felt Mammon follow a familiar path. Sounds of home flooded your ears. The common squeak of the House's hinges. The echoing footsteps against the Entrance Hall's marble floors. The sound of Mammon's comforted sigh that he unconsciously made anytime he entered your bedroom.

You were sat on the side of your mattress, shoes being tugged off you and haphazardly and frustratingly tossed aside like they had been the source of your troubles. With two hands on your shoulders, you were quickly pushed down into a laying position, the covers being pulled over you and tucked around you so tightly it felt like you could hardly breathe. Or maybe that was just due to the sickness constricting your lungs. Everything was warm, every breath a wheeze. But worst of all was the feeling of defeat. Of the shrinking pride of Mammon being right. You were too weak to make it through classes.

"Hey, forget about RAD," Mammon spoke up suddenly, shaking his head at you. Somehow he had those moments where he knew exactly what you were thinking. You had never thought yourself that transparent, but maybe it was a pact thing. More than likely though, Mammon was just good at this sort of thing. "Your grades ain't gonna change the way we all feel about ya."

"You know what Diavolo and Lucifer expect of me. If I let them down, I'm ruining the image of the program. And I'm not like Solomon, or Simeon, or even Luke. I feel like I have to work ten times harder then the rest of them only to just barely pass. I..." You hesitated with your words, not expecting yourself to become so emotionally vulnerable, but here you were. Almost in tears, crushed under the weight of unbelievable expectations. "I can't take much more of this." Your nerves felt like frayed burning wires, the tips of your fingers trembling.

Mammon fell silent for a long while, glancing at some random spot on your floor. Finally, after you had both marinated in the silence, he lifted his chin, looking directly at you, rubbing the warm and pounding spots of your temples with one of his thumbs. "Forget about all that for just a little bit. Thinkin' about all that stressful nonsense won't do nothin' but make you feel worse." He suddenly stood up, rubbing the back of his head in thought. "Lemme get you somethin' to eat." Before you could say anything otherwise, he was gone. You stared up at the ceiling, a few tears leaving your eyes now that you were alone. This...sucked. But at least...you were no longer alone. Crying did nothing but exhaust you further, so by the time Mammon returned with some food, you were convinced you wouldn't even have the energy to eat it. He used one hand to help you sit up while the other placed a plate in your lap. It was a simple meal, but one that would probably help. Just a sandwich he had made with simple sliced meat and veggies. He even cut them into small little squares for you. His eyes were shining, like he was proud of himself, that he was glad at least that he got to do something like this for you. Then he suddenly looked at the watch on his wrist. "Crap, lunch is about over already." His mood tanked, apparently not intending to stay which surprised you a bit. You had assumed he'd give anything for an opportunity to skip classes with you. "Eat as much as you can, and then sleep long enough so it won't even seem like I'm gone, okay?" He tried to flash a signature smile, but it was filled with worry. "Call me if you need me. And make sure you call me and no one else, got it?"

You let out a breathy sigh. Just sleep and forget about it all, huh? Sure. "Okay." It's not like you could do much else. Plus, this demon was giving you some serious puppy eyes, and you had no idea if he was even intending to do so or if it just came naturally. Before he left, you took a few of the finger-sandwich squares and handed it to him, so at least, even if he was leaving, it was like you were having lunch together. He took them gently, that giddy glow that usually formed around him returning. He took a munch of one before running off, giving you one last glance before he shut the door. You looked down at the plate and tried a bite of your own. It was pretty light as to not upset your stomach, but filling enough to stop the slight hunger pains you were already feeling. How precious of him to make you lunch like that. It was a short time before they were all gone, the empty plate resting on your nightstand. Lying back down, you turned over in bed, groaning under your breath as you did so, closing wearily eyelids. With a full stomach and a sore body, sleep seemed to barrel into you like an overdue train. You might've been hearing things, but you could've sworn you heard Mammon's voice muttering something to you before you drifted off to sleep.

----

The sound of a sharp breath had you open your eyes. You stared at the ceiling of your bedroom blankly. It took you quite a while to realize you were even awake. Slowly turning under your covers, you tried to figure out what or who had woken you up. "Mammon?" You called out, voice weak, throat dry. You knew you felt warm but you couldn't help but shiver anyway. Shaky and weak hands gripped your bedsheets as you pulled yourself out of bed, your head swimming from the movement. You noticed a shadow flash across your eyes. Something moved right outside your door. "Who...is it?" A few trembling steps and you were at the door, swinging it open. You craned your neck to look down the hallway. Nothing was there. Some sort of hum filled your left ear. It was hard to discern what it was, but maybe whoever had been outside your door went in that direction. So, you left your room, turning left to wander down the hall.

How long had you been sleeping? Were you still sleeping? No, everything felt too real to be a dream. And yet, everything in your mind was hazy. Thoughts were hard to keep ahold of, slipping from your brain almost as soon as they were manifested. You were too preoccupied with the pain in your body, and whoever was in the house apparently. You continued to shuffle past windows and doors, trying to keep an ear out for another noise. Something caught in your peripherals. As you turned to look out the window you were standing by, you caught the last bit of a blur running past the frame. It jolted you back, almost causing you to fall, but you stumbled into one of the hall's little dressers.

Now you were irritated. You didn't feel good enough for games. You were going to find who had just scared you and give them a piece of your mind. You marched the rest of the way through the House, ending up in the entrance hall. You only mildly regretted your decision when you opened the door, the cold air outside almost making your teeth rattle. You took a few steps outside anyway, glaring as you scanned your surroundings. There seemed to be nothing out here. Just as you were about to turn around to go back inside, a hand grasped your shoulder. You jumped, smacking the hand that had touched you as you swirled around.

Mammon looked dumbfounded, only to then turn his expression into one frighteningly close to Lucifer's. "What do you think you're doin' being outside like this? You have a death wish? I said to stay in bed!"

The shock rattled your lungs, a few coughs shaking your frame. "What the hell, Mammon? Why would you do that to me? You think skulking around the House is funny? Some caretaker you are!" You pressed your palms to your throbbing temples.

"Whad'dya mean?" His eyes went a little wide, looking wounded, but mostly confused. You straightened your posture, glancing behind him to see the front gate slightly ajar. Had he just gotten here? Then you spotted the papers he was holding under his arm. A large stack of them. "No one should be home but us. Even Levi was dragged to classes today." You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to go over the details in your brain. Before you could try to figure out if you were crazy or not, Mammon took your arm and led you back inside the House, dragging you along till you were back in your room. He was clearly worried, hardly able to stand still on his feet, his heels tapping against the floor as he helped you into bed.

"Where did you go?" You couldn't help but wonder. You didn't want to outwardly say you had wished he stayed here, but...maybe his tsundere nature was rubbing off on you.

He moved to settle the papers he was carrying onto the table in your room before coming back to you. "I had somethin' important to do is all..." He didn't seem to be very forthcoming with information at the moment. Well, when did he ever? You didn't have the energy to press him on anything. His hand suddenly cupped your cheek as he cursed. "You're even warmer than before..." He got on his knees by your bedside so he could be level with you as you rested. "How do I help you feel better?"

"Some water might be nice, and maybe a cool rag," you shrugged a little. There weren't too many remedies for humans easily accessible down here.

He shot up to his feet. "That's easy! I'll be back!" He dashed off, moving so loudly you could hear him move all the way to the kitchen. He came back just as quickly as he left, putting a cup of water on your nightstand and holding the rag in his hands. He suddenly turned a bit sheepish, slowly getting back down to his knees on the floor, glancing away from your gaze. He was fidgeting with the rag in his hands for a moment before briskly placing it on your forehead. "Why'd you have to go and get sick, huh?" He asked in a huff, pressing the cooler parts of his hand against your burning cheeks. "I can't stand the way you look right now. Hurry and get better, dammit..."

"If I could will it away, I would," you assured him. He stayed by you in a bit of silence, looking down at the floor as he fretted, muttering things about 'finding a magical cure' or something of the like. You couldn't help yourself. He looked a bit like a bruised puppy. Your hand found it's way into his hair, causing his head to snap up and stare at you, embarrassed, but clearly not backing away. "Thank you for being here with me. I always feel a little better when you're around."

It was his turn to feel warmth in his face. "Don't say stuff like that! No gushy stuff! 'Cuz then..." He quickly went silent, enjoying the feeling of your fingers in his hair. "I...uh..." The subject was suddenly changed. "I know you've been stressed out about classes and stuff, so I...went to all your classes for ya and took notes." He took a moment to relish your pleased look. You could only imagine the confusion of your professors. "But I'll only give them to you on one condition!" He shook his head firmly, letting your hand fall back to the bed. An accusatory finger pointed sternly in your direction. "You can't get burnt out like this again, okay? I'm serious. Deadly serious." He leaned forward, flipping the rag over on the now-cooler side. "Nothin', and I mean nothin', ever takes priority over you, okay?"

A little hum left your throat, almost cooing over him. A little tease left your lips. "Aww, so you do care for me."

He sighed, looking a little annoyed before his eyebrows softened. "Of course I do, ya dummy. That's why I'm here, right? Me and no one else...I won't let anyone else take care of ya."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #sickfic

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ikolaiigh · 8 months

Text

My Love Will Never Die

𝑻𝑾/𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺..Accidental S3lf-harm, near drowning, Sexual Content, stalking, Possessive behavior, Murder, Obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior, angst with a happy ending, violence, hallucinations, heavy disassociation, self-loathing thoughts, Emotional/Psychological Abuse (not by Ariel btw), s*icidal thoughts, Mental Breakdown, Every chapter when release will have its warning.

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: Yandere!Ariel x Queen!Reader

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀..She saved you, cradled you in her arms, and her soothing voice resonates within you like a haunting melody. When you both reunited again on the shoreline, her presence now consumes your every thought and feeling. Her presence feels essential to your survival, and you're determined to live on, no matter the circumstances...what she had done with you?

𝘈/𝘕: HI HI YET AGAIN!! :))) So uh this is extremely self-indulgent ngl, the lack of Yandere!Ariel is like...illegal and yes this is another series since Under the Sea is almost finished (I will post it dw) so I decided to do this! And in this AU instead of Eric being the prince of the kingdom, it will be the Reader! Btw Ariel here is not specified, so you can interpret her from the 1989 version or the live action! So..I hope you guys enjoy!

-Also! Ariel in this AU is heavily based by this post here! Again her race isn't specified! Neither is the Reader's :) Ariel is the acting "Queen" of Atlantica! both reader and Ariel are in their mid 20's!

𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻... Ariel Carinae

"𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭." -𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐧

When a ruler dies, the ones in line for the throne make one last attempt to get to it first. A rather chaotic few days filled with desperation, especially for those involved.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the kingdom, you found yourself seeking solace in the confines of your bedroom facing the dressing table's mirror. The weight of the impending crown bore heavily on your mind, its significance not lost on you. In just a few hours, you would officially become queen, but with the throne came the burden of making crucial decisions for the kingdom. The once comforting opulence of the room now felt suffocating and distant, a reminder of the isolation that accompanied the crown.

Sinking into a plush chair at the dressing table, your thoughts drifted back to the vivid memories of Ariel – the love that had blossomed between you, and the enchanting melody that had captured your heart. You couldn't help but recall the day she had saved you, the tender touch of her hand as she sang to you, the way she had held you close in her arms. Those memories now intertwined with the weight of your responsibilities, a bittersweet reminder of the love you had to set aside for the sake of the kingdom.

The question lingered in your mind, gnawing at your heart – was this the price of wearing the crown? Were you now destined to sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of a kingdom that demanded everything, even your own heart? The magnitude of the decision weighed heavily on your shoulders, casting shadows over the once-gleaming path you were meant to tread.

Lost in your inner turmoil, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the grand mirror across the room. The image of the new queen stared back at you, her eyes revealing vulnerability masked by a composed facade. You wondered if anyone could see the turmoil brewing within, the fear of making the wrong choices, and the longing for a simpler life.

With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes, leaning against the dressing table seeking a moment of peace. When you opened your eyes again and glanced at the mirror, an unexpected sight greeted you – the reflection of Ariel, her image appearing as if she were gently caressing your shoulders and whispering in your ear. Startled, you quickly whipped your head around to see if anyone was with you in the room, but the space remained empty. Rubbing your eyes in disbelief, you couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the surreal experience. Your mind wanders back to Ariel once again.

You would never forget the fervent kisses, scattered like a trail of fire across your body, etched indelibly into your mind. Ariel's tender embrace, as she passionately expressed her love in ways no one else ever had, remained vivid. Her hands enveloped you with tenderness and curiosity, each movement a promise, while the dance of her tongue, an intoxicating symphony of desire, enveloped you in a sensation that felt as if her longing had consumed your very being, propelling you to uncharted heights, a realm of ecstasy before she gently guided you into the cool embrace of the waters. There, her muscular form, usually untouched by warmth, melded with yours, creating a cocoon of closeness that spoke that she doesn't want to ever let you go.

Every morning, as you reluctantly left Ariel's warmth with the rising sun, her tender touches lingered on your body like an ethereal caress. The memory of her feverish kisses, especially the ones trailing across your neck, sent shivers down your spine even in her absence. But it was her melodious chanting in the sea that beckoned you, a siren's call gently urging you to come back to her embrace. As much as you longed to answer that call, you knew you couldn't succumb to its temptation.

The weight of the crown on your head was heavy, Your mother, the queen, had prepared you for the royal role you were destined to fulfill. Yet, the training seemed lacking when it came to matters of the heart. Complications arose as the people of the kingdom impatiently clamored for your marriage, whispering among themselves, eagerly awaiting the day when their future queen would wed, the people's expectations clawing at your back.

You will learn to love him. You remembered Lashana's soft voice as she held you in her warm embrace as you wailed into her chest, soothing your pain with her reassuring voice. The pressure from courtiers and advisors was suffocating, as they pushed you towards a union with the prince of Glowerhaven, but deep down, you knew your heart belonged to Ariel, and no amount of forced affection could change that truth.

Under the shroud of nightfall, you found yourself standing at the water's edge, the waves gently lapping at your feet. The kingdom had settled down for the night, its citizens and tourists all asleep. With a wistful gaze, you stared out at the vast expanse of water that separated you from Ariel's world. The rhythmic sound of the waves seemed to echo her enchanting songs, a constant reminder of the love you could only embrace in secrecy.

Summoning all your courage, you stepped into the sea, feeling the biting cold on your exposed skin. You clenched your teeth, the chill nipping at your lower lip as you endured it for her. For five years, you had been having these clandestine encounters with Ariel, braving the icy waters just to be with her. Waist-deep in the water, you perched on a rock, waiting with bated breath for her arrival.

As the cold seemed to intensify, you pressed your head against the stone, contemplating how to share the news of the arranged wedding with Ariel. Lost in thought, you suddenly noticed movement in the water – a beautiful teal tail adorned with red scales and golden bracelets. A head emerged as searching for someone, wearing a golden crown that shimmered in the moonlight—it was her.

Your tired eyes lit up with affection as you caught sight of Ariel. A smile tugged at your lips when her gaze met yours, Ariel playfully dove back into the water, her lithe form slicing through the moonlit reflection. The sight of her perfect, asymmetrical face and fiery red hair stirred the unquenchable flame of your love. As she approached, it became evident that she intended to playfully tackle you.

"Wait, Ariel, don't—" you called out, but it was too late. With joyous laughter, she leaped into your arms, and together you both sank into the water. Ariel's arms wrapped around your neck, and you opened your eyes underwater, her image slightly distorted but no less beautiful. Her playful spirit prevailed as she pulled you into an underwater kiss, and you tenderly placed your hand on her cheek, reciprocating the love.

As you both resurfaced, gasping for breath but laughing with delight, your foreheads pressed together in an intimate embrace. The reunion after two weeks apart felt like a moment of pure magic, and the joy of being back in each other's arms overwhelmed you. The gentle lapping of the waves served as a soothing backdrop to the emotions swirling between you.

"I missed you so much, Ariel," you said, your voice filled with genuine longing, as you pulled her close, relishing the feeling of her in your arms again. With your head resting on top of hers, you found solace in the intimacy of the embrace, as if no one else existed at that moment except the two of you.

"I missed you too, my love. Two weeks felt like an eternity without you," Ariel whispered her voice tender and filled with warmth. Nuzzling against your neck, she showered you with soft, wet kisses, expressing the depth of her longing and affection. Each touch of her lips on your skin sent delightful shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but emit a soft whine, overcome by the overwhelming rush of lust you felt for her.

"I have a surprise for you," she murmured, Ariel's lips moved closer to your ear, and her warm breath tickled your skin, making your heart race even faster. "But I'll show it to you later."

Amidst the euphoria of being reunited, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of urgency, knowing that there was something important you needed to share with Ariel. A shadow lingered in the corner of your mind, a haunting thought that had been plaguing your consciousness for too long. As much as you wanted to savor this romantic moment, you knew that sooner or later, you would have to tell her the truth.

"Ariel," you said softly, your voice tinged with vulnerability, she hummed in response still nestled between your neck, "There's something I need to tell you."

"The court put me in an arranged marriage, and I'm getting married in 3 days," you muttered, your voice trembling, and your grip tightened around Ariel's body. Her face was nestled between your neck, planting wet hot kisses, but at the sound of your words, she froze, and her closed eyes shot open, registering the weight of what you said. After a couple of minutes that felt like an eternity, she relaxed again, brushing it off with a laugh.

"Married? Oh, come on, that's ridiculous," Ariel teased with a forced grin, trying not to believe the gravity of the situation. However, when she noticed the seriousness in your expression and the absence of laughter on your lips, her smile faded, and a flicker of something else appeared in her eyes. She continued, her tone gentle as she gently caressed your cheek, "Well... refuse, it's a simple thing to do."

"I can't refuse," you said softly, looking back at her. Her captivating gaze held you captive, and despite the tears that welled up in your eyes, you couldn't look away. Ariel briskly swam away from your embrace, positioning herself in front of you, maintaining that intense eye contact that made it hard to breathe.

"Of course you can…I will make them-" Ariel mumbled out, her irritation evident, but you could also see her fin tail twitching anxiously. Her blue eyes welled up with tears, a mix of frustration and hurt, you could feel the hurt in her voice.

"Ariel, please," you interrupted, mustering all the strength you could find to face the reality of the situation. Your throat tightened, making it difficult to speak, and tears streamed down your face. "You don't even exist for them…"

"So this is it for us?" Ariel asked incredulously, her eyes searching yours for any glimmer of hope. The weight of her question hung heavy in the air, and a mix of emotions flickered across her face – disbelief, sadness, and a tinge of desperation.

"I don't want it to be…uh…I love you Ariel, but I can't simply pass over this," you said, your voice filled with bitterness and desperation. As you looked at her with teary eyes, your breaths came in huffs, and it became increasingly difficult to breathe. You didn't want any of this; you hated seeing the hurt swimming in her eyes. Knowing she might hate you for this only added to your agony, after all, it was your fault-

"Loving someone means going through everything you can imagine, even death... If you can't do this, you can't love," Ariel said angrily through gritted teeth, her teary eyes locking onto yours. Hurt filled your gaze, and you could feel her words striking your heart like a dagger. Your emotions were overwhelming, and tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to find the strength to respond.

A heavy silence engulfed the air, interrupted only by your sobs and Ariel's heavy breathing. Without a word, Ariel turned away, diving back into the water, swimming away from you. You could only watch helplessly, tears blurring your vision as she distanced herself. In the place where she stood, a shiny object caught your eye, your trembling hands reached for it, revealing a delicate ring. A pink pearl adorned the center, encircled by elegant purple pearls. Your heart sank as you realized what it was –

It was an engagement ring- She was going to propose to you.

"W-WAIT, COME BACK!" you desperately cried out, clutching the ring to your chest as if it held the key to bringing her back. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and tears blurred your vision, but you continued to call out her name. When it became evident that she wasn't going to return, you sobbed even harder, feeling your vision blur and your breath hitch. You would do anything to make her stay, to mend the wounds that had torn you apart.

"Don't leave me....."

Don'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavemeDON'T LEAVE ME-

"Your majesty?" Eric whispered, awkwardness evident in his voice as you whipped your head startled to look at him, you noticed that he was concerned.

As you slowly regained consciousness, you found yourself in an unfamiliar place, disoriented and bewildered. The world around you seemed hazy, and a faint static sound echoed in your ears, further adding to the confusion. Turning your head, you noticed Eric standing by your side, his expression a mix of concern and bewilderment.

"Where am I? What's...?" you mumbled, your voice weak and filled with uncertainty. Your memory seemed to be clouded, and you struggled to make sense of your surroundings.

"You're in the church, about to become queen," Eric whispered gently, trying to offer some clarity amidst the fog of confusion. He furrowed his brow, trying to comprehend why you were asking such a question, unsure if you were joking or genuinely unaware of the significance of the moment.

The hushed murmurs and lingering gazes only amplified the pressure you felt. The air seemed thick with anticipation and tension, and you could almost taste the apprehension that hung in the atmosphere. Each whispered word seemed to swirl together, your head began to throb, the pulsating pain mirroring the internal struggle within you. The dizzying array of thoughts and conflicting emotions left you feeling disoriented and on the verge of being consumed by the noise.

"Are you alright? Should i get the doctors?" Eric asked softly, his face etched with worry as he noticed you had been staring at the scepter for quite some time. You glanced around and noticed the people in the room looking at you with pity, causing a tinge of embarrassment to flush your cheeks.

"N-No there's no need I'm alright," you mumbled, forcing a tired smile as you met Eric's gaze. Yet, deep within, a gnawing sense of unease had taken root. Your eyes then returned to the bishop, who held the scepter before you.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to steady yourself. You reminded yourself of the reason you were here – to make the right choice for yourself and for the kingdom, to follow your heart even in the face of opposition.

As your outstretched hand tremulously reached for the scepter, an eerie chill swept through your bones, sending shivers down your spine. The air seemed to thicken with an intangible unease, and a voice inside your mind whispered doubtfully, questioning the morality of your actions. The gravity of the moment weighed heavily on your conscience, leaving you in a state of peculiar detachment from the reality that once felt so familiar. The allure of power clashed with the pangs of uncertainty, entangling you in a web of conflicting emotions, making you question if this path was truly meant for you.

Amid this disconcerting moment, a thousand unblinking eyes fixated upon you. However, their gazes appeared surreal, mere specters dancing at the fringes of your vision. The momentous occasion should have been filled with grandeur and significance, yet an inexplicable sense of isolation pervaded your being. As the ornate crown was reverently placed upon your head, a resounding applause erupted around you, signifying that you're their new queen. But the jubilation felt distant, drowned in a disconcerting symphony of static that seemed to echo within your mind, your throat tightened, and panic clawed at you, but you forced yourself to maintain the regal smile.

You now stood alone, with no one genuinely on your side.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻...

@yuugen-benni

#-the little mermaid🦈#the little mermaid #-Yan!Ariel;#ariel x reader #yandere disney #yandere disney x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere female #yandere x you #yandere imagines #Yandere Ariel x Reader #Tlm #The little mermaid x reader

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twig-tea · 6 months

Text

Shadow the series: hopefully an enabling post

I want as many people as are interested to be able to watch this series so as promised: Here's a non-spoilery summary of potential triggers and squicks in Shadow the Series eps 1-7.

The really brief version: this show is really good, lots of intense things happening with family trauma, family violence, mental health, and abuse, but the actual supernatural stuff is pretty mild and the gore and violence is very minimal. There are also light comedy moments, and pining, and friendship, and the mystery is fun to watch unravel, so I didn't find it too spooky (but I have a high spooky tolerance so you may want to take breaks or otherwise do what you need to).

Ep1

Vomiting

Some creepy music

Slight jump scares

Depictions of drowning

Homophobic slurs

Bullying (including punches)

Scars (potentially self-harm but it's not clear)

Mention of ghosts, non-graphic ghost, creepy amorphous smoke

Ep2

References to hypnosis, potential gaslighting or hallucinations, uncertainty of reality

Institutional homophobia

Bullying (non-graphic)

Homophobia

Mention of possible teacher/student relationship (potentially unrequited)

Ep3

Bullying, homophobia

Mention of dead bodies

Mention of ghosts

Mention of family violence

Depictions of drowning

Flickering lights

Mild corporal punishment

Non-graphic ghost

Mentions of cancer

Creepy grinning (lmao idk how else to list this)

Ep4

Mentions of cancer and treatment including deteriorating physical state

Depictions of deteriorating mental state

Depiction of end-of-life medical care in hospital

Depictions of family violence (yelling, grabbing, threats, slapping, kicking, beating, threats with a gun) of both a mother and child

Hospitalization for mental illness, psychosis

Mention of antidepressants

Threatening someone's freedom with hospitalization

Accusations of infidelity

Depiction of suicide by hanging (not the actual death, just the body in partial shot)

Description of what sounds like childhood sexual assault from the perspective of a child (non-graphic, vague)

Depictions of alcoholism

Child neglect (feeding a child food they are allergic to)

Allergic reaction in a child

Beating (not too graphic but there is blood on knuckles and blood on face shown)

Funeral, death of a parent (mother and father)

Floating body

Ep 5

Floating body

Systemic inertia (probably not triggering but seriously infuriating)

Mentions of narcotic use

Mentions of bipolar disorder

Creepy mask

Casual mentions of father's death

Implied one-sided teacher/student crush (student hugging teacher from behind)

Non-graphic ghost

Homophobia, bullying

Teacher/student relationship (kissing, implied sexual relationship between older woman and younger male)

Negative self-talk around mental illness and medicating mental illness

Descriptions of hallucinations

Ep6

Smoking (supposed to be marijuana but looks like manufactured cigarettes)

Wet dream resulting from an erotic-coded moment with amorphous smoke (idk how to properly warn for this lol)

Scratches on body (ambiguous source)

Mentions of pregnancy

Implied infidelity (by a married couple)

Slap

Bite, punches

Non-graphic ghost, mild jump scare

Creepy "fun house" with decorations including a lot of bloody handprints/blood-sprayed walls, creepy clown, distorting mirrors, screaming, flashing light, red lighting

Ep7

Creepy "fun house" with decorations including a lot of bloody handprints/blood-sprayed walls, creepy clown, distorting mirrors, screaming, flashing light, red lighting

Multiple people punched in the head, bruised faces from being punched in the mouth (mostly student-on-student but one parent punching their child)

Mild jump-scare with a loud sound

Vision of multiple bodies on the ground, with pools of blood (brief, no visible wounds, gore is mild)

Clothed heavy makeout between married female teacher and male student

Flash of someone blindfolded and someone with a gun

Implied sexual dream with amorphous smoke

Mention of loss of a limb, dripping of blood (no wound visible)

Mentions of drug use (spoon over a flame shown, implying heroin)

Depictions of someone dying by firing squad as a death sentence (death not shown)

Non-graphic ghost

Someone being choked

The preview for the second half has a bunch more stuff, but nothing that hasn't been warned for in the first half (choking, punching, hanging, creepy mask, amorphous smoke, etc.)

#shadow the series #bl meta #potential triggers and squicks

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collapsedglasshouses · 6 months

Text

An Angel For Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 7]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]

MASTERPOST

SUMMARY: Right when Noah thought there was no way back to sanity, it got even crazier.

WARNINGS: angst, tiny bit of tension, ...

A/N: Hello my lovely little people... Sometimes I struggle to find words for the authors note and it gives me anxiety so imma just tell you the same thing as always... Thank you for every single notification I get on this series... I love it so much and am glad that you do it too. Enjoy reading the new chapter!

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit @signs-of-ill-portent @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @ada-clarence @wild-child-7747

If you wanna be added to the taglist of this story, please DM me or let me know in the comments!

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

The coffee shop, nestled in a quiet corner of the city the band currently stayed at, radiated a warm and cozy atmosphere. It was a strong contrast to the cool early fall weather outside. The large bay windows were slightly fogged up. Soft music played in the background, setting the perfect ambiance for a quiet and relaxed afternoon coffee.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked pastries. People huddled over steaming cups, their conversations hushed and punctuated by the gentle clinking of porcelain. Each table was decorated with a flickering candle, casting dancing shadows across the room.

In the corner, bathed in the soft glow of a table lamp, sat Noah. His gaze was fixed on the raindrops, from the rain that had just stopped, racing each other down the glass. He was lost in his world of thoughts. The lines on his face hinted at the weight of his concerns, and the gentle sigh that escaped his lips carried the weight of a thousand unsolved mysteries.

Noah's mind was racing. Thoughts swirled like a turbulent storm, and he couldn't find a moment of respite. The constant barrage of worries, doubts, and how he felt when he saw that girl filled every what so little place of his consciousness, leaving him in a state of unrest. Every time he tried to focus on a single idea or find a fleeting moment of peace, it slipped through his grasp like sand running through his fingers.

Noah was so frustrated with himself. He wasn't performing as he wanted to and all because of a ghost hunting his mind. Not even the freshly brewed coffee in front of him made him feel better.

When Noah let his gaze wander off in the café again, he nearly choked on his coffee, his heart racing as he spotted her. At the counter stood a woman, her silhouette graceful and mysterious. Her long, flowing black hair laid perfectly on her shoulders, framing a face that had haunted his dreams for so long. Her deep eyes, held a hidden universe of emotions, mirroring the turmoil in his own heart.

As he observed her from afar, she fidgeted nervously with her fingers, a charming yet anxious gesture that made her seem more real than any dream. He couldn't help but wonder if this was another vivid hallucination. But her presence in the café, her tangible form, left him utterly shocked. How the hell could she be here?

The world around him seemed to blur as she slowly made her way to his table, each step bringing her closer to him. His heart pounded in his chest, and he questioned the reality of the moment. It was as if the boundaries between dream and waking life had become indistinct, and he couldn't be sure if this was a fantasy or a genuine encounter.

Noah's mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He wanted to reach out, to touch her and make sure she was real, to unravel the mystery that surrounded her. Yet, his uncertainty held him back, as if he feared the moment might shatter like fragile glass.

The woman finally reached his table, her eyes locking onto his with a mix of hesitation and longing. The air between them crackled with unspoken words, with weeks of yearning and unfulfilled desire to know the truth.

Noah's voice trembled as he whispered her name, a mixture of awe and disbelief in his words. "Jules."

She gazed into his eyes, a complex mix of angst and confusion flickering across her face. Her voice was barely more than a breath as she replied, "Noah."

In that moment, they were no longer bound by his dreams. He was sure he wasn't turning insane. He knew he hadn't just imagined her. They were two individuals, sharing the same space and time, their connection more reachable than ever before. Noah couldn't help but feel that their destinies were intertwined in a way he had never imagined or even believed in before.

"We need to talk." Was all Jules needed to say as Noah's words broke out of him. He instantly told her everything, no matter how insane he sounded in that moment.

He told her of his strange feelings, he couldn't shake. He told her about his dreams. He told her about his feeling that even his best friend didn't quite understand how he felt. He told her everything even though he felt like he was crazy, while she set there and listened. She listened like she always did while her heart ached. She couldn't quite comprehend how hard she had messed up Noah's life with her doings.

The atmosphere of the coffee shop had changed as Noah and Jules faced each other, the air thick with tension. Noah had just shared the details of a dream where he saw a glimpse of Jules' past life. Jules looked both curious and bewildered, unsure of how to respond to what Noah was saying. When she was being honest with herself, she didn't even know what she wanted to say to Noah when she first set down.

"You dreamed about me?" Jules asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Noah nodded, a mixture of determination and frustration in his tone. "Yes, and it's not just that. I've been dreaming about you even before you saved me from that car. You appear in so many of my dreams, and it's really confusing."

Jules leaned in, her forehead wrinkling in thought. She sighed at the bizarre situation that formed between them. They were talking as if they had known each other for years while she was as dead as it gets and he hadn't known a thing about her just months before.

"Noah, I wish I could help you get the truth you deserve. But- I don't fully understand it myself." She tried to explain.

Noah's frustration grew as he grappled with the mystery surrounding Jules. He needed answers and was beginning to doubt the entire situation. "I need to know, Jules. Who the fuck are you, really? I don't want to think you're some kind of strange stalker or... I don't know, but this is all so weird. I can't explain it."

The words hung in the air as Jules tried to find the right words, and he wished he could take his back. He had no right to be aggressive. It was more than clear that she had no clue either and they needed to get over what ever kind of magic this was.

Jules reached out but last minute decided against grabbing his hand. She cleared her throat before trying to reassure him. "I don't have all the answers, Noah, and this situation is as confusing for me as it is for you. I'm here to protect you, to watch over you, and I promise I'm not a stalker or anything like that and you know that too. Our connection is beyond what you... or we can understand, and I'm still trying to get clarity in this confusing mess myself."

Noah gazed into her eyes, searching for the truth. He knew there was something extraordinary about their bond, something that defied logic known to humans. Even though he felt silly, his heart and instincts told him to trust Jules, even though his rational mind struggled to make sense of it all.

With a sigh, he relented, his voice softer as he admitted, "I may not understand it, Jules, but I can't help that I feel safe with you. It's just... all of this is so overwhelming. I can't concentrated. It's like this whole thing corrupted my mind. You know?"

Jules nodded, her understanding gaze unwavering. "I know it's overwhelming, Noah, and I promise I'll do my best to understand this all. But there is something we both need to do for our own good"

Noah looked confused.

"This." Jules waved between them. "Can never happen again."

Noah's heart instantly started to race when he thought about what her sentence meant. He knew it would be best but he couldn't let this happen. Almost as if she would leave any moment, he grabbed her hand.

As soon as they touched, a powerful yet unexplainable sensation washed over both of them, leaving them momentarily breathless. From Noah's perspective, it felt as if an electric current rushed through him, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to the mysterious woman before him. It was as if their souls had recognized each other, and the connection they shared became even more profound. It felt like in all those corny rom-com movies that he despiced.

Jules, on the other hand, experienced a shock of emotions and memories flooding back to her. She couldn't fully comprehend what was happening, but she felt a profound sense of familiarity and comfort when her hand connected with Noah's. If she didn't know better, she would have said she felt alive. It was as if their souls were intertwined, and the connection felt almost addictive.

Noah and Jules locked eyes, a shared understanding passing between them.

"Don't leave." Noah almost whimpered out, causing Jules to feel another rush through her body. Her mind was hazed with the emotions breathing life in her body. She knew she needed to get away from him. Lurk in his shadow again. Never show herself again. She knew this would end in total chaos. Not a single time was ever reported where a guardian angel just hung out with their person.

Right as she was about to decline his begging words, he squeezed her hand again, making her whole body tingle with sensation she never felt before. "Please, Jules. Just one day. I beg you."

Noah didn't even know what has gotten into him. All he could think about was how good he felt. He hadn't felt this good for months if not years. His mind was hazed with the thought of her. How he instantly got lost in her eyes. How he was intrigued to know everything about this mysterious woman. How he couldn't lose her.

Jules looked in his undeniable beautiful dark eyes as she swallowed hard. She had fucked up bad but when she looked at him like that she knew she couldn't go back. She didn't want to go back. She needed him just as much as he needed her.

"One day. After that we'll never see each other again." Right as the words slipped over her lips, she knew she lied.

She couldn't deny Noah anything, even if she tried.

PART EIGHT COMING SOON

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fanfic #collapsedglasshouseswrites #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian x oc

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wheretosearchforsnow · 4 months

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Destiel in Season 4 and 5 of Supernatural and Death of God

German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche’s well-known phrase “God is dead,” introducing the idea of the missing God, laid the foundation for one of the most important topics in the 20th century Existentialist Movement. The possibility of God’s non-existence means that everything that is possible to happen can happen, and if everything is allowed, how can man choose? How can man know how to live? If everything is allowed, can there be we define right from wrong?

Such questions are asked on Supernatural, with the character Castiel first appearing at the end of the first episode in the fourth season, which marked the series’ introduction of Christian mythology as a central them ever since. Castiel, an Angel of the Lord, initially shows complete devotion to God and identifies as servant of heaven:

CASTIEL: We have no choice. DEAN: Of course you have a choice. I mean, come on, what? You’ve never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers? CASTIEL: Look, even if you can’t understand it, have faith. The plan is just. SAM: How can you even say that? CASTIEL: Because it comes from heaven, that makes it just. - 4.07 It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

This argument on the morality behind the act of “purifying a city” or “taking one thousand two hundred fourteen lives” between Castiel and the Winchesters is not dissimilar with Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard’s discussion on Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac. When Abraham was told that as a result of God's will that he must sacrifice his son Isaac, he was in a kind of either-or. If the message is genuinely from God, then he must sacrifice Isaac and it is the right thing to do; but if the message is not from God, then he would be committing what would be the very worst possible crime judged on the basis of Abraham's own view of human ethics.

The dichotomy here, between Castiel’s and Dean’s rationales, is that while the former believes there is a God and God and religion (in other words, heaven’s plan for earth) are the most important things, and man must do nothing but obey heaven’s command, the latter insists that there is no God and it is for man to take the total burden of responsibility for the world and for himself upon his own shoulders, with no one to give him any sign.

Though the former seems to suggest a lack of agency or necessity for decision making in moral judgement, as the plot unfolds, we see Castiel demonstrate a sense of uncertainty, the very secret he voices in the conversation with Dean in the episode’s epilogue.

CASTIEL: I’m not a… hammer as you say. I have questions, I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don’t envy the weight that’s on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don’t. - 4.07 It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

This mirrors Kierkegaard’s Abraham in his questions on God’s will. Indeed, how is one to know whether the command is from God or not? If an angel speaks to him, how does Abraham know it's not a hallucination? And if God himself speaks, how is Abraham, or Castiel, to know whether this is really God or whether the command is their own inward evil wishes? Nobody but Abraham, or Castiel, can decide and they cannot tell within his life whether he has done the right thing or not.

Perhaps it is this introspective nature in Castiel that draws him close to Dean, the human in his charge, and by implication humanity. Dean, a firm non-believer and what many, including himself, perceive to be as farthest from being servant of God as possible, detests the idea of God even in face of angels walking the earth.

DEAN: God? CASTIEL: Yes. DEAN: God. CASTIEL: Yes! He isn't in heaven. He has to be somewhere. DEAN: Try New Mexico. I hear he's on a tortilla. CASTIEL: No, he's not on any flatbread. DEAN: Listen, Chuckles, even if there is a God, he is either dead—and that's the generous theory— CASTIEL: He is out there, Dean. DEAN: —or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us. CASTIEL glares. DEAN: I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut. All right? - 5.02 Good God, Y'all

Dean has no intention of trying to prove that God does not exist, as one cannot prove a negative, but the very specific objection to the traditional concept of God above parallels with the simple objection in many existentialists work that is based upon the injustice of the universe. Albert Camus has given this same type of criticism in his novel, "The Plague", in which the priest, Padalu, confesses that he is not able to understand how there can be any justification so that even eternal paradise could cancel out the sufferings here on earth of one innocent child. Why, Deans asks, if God is all powerful, does man have to suffer? If God is merciful, then how can he sentence man, any man at all to eternal damnation?

There is an optimistic side to this. As the repetitive occurrence of the term “free will” on this show suggests, if God exists, man is nothing; but if God does not exist, then man is free to choose what he wants to make himself. But for Castiel to arrive at this destination, it first takes him to undergo a two-season long crisis.

ANNA: What do you want from me, Castiel? CASTIEL: I'm considering disobedience. ANNA nods. ANNA: Good. CASTIEL: No, it isn't. For the first time, I feel... ANNA: It gets worse. Choosing your own course of action is confusing, terrifying. ANNA puts her hand on CASTIEL's shoulder. He looks at it; she drops it. ANNA: That's right. You're too good for my help. I'm just trash. A walking blasphemy. ANNA turns to walk away. CASTIEL: Anna. ANNA stops. CASTIEL: I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do. ANNA turns back. ANNA: Like the old days? No. I'm sorry. It's time to think for yourself. - 4.16 On the Head of a Pin

If God isn’t out there, then Castiel has nowhere to turn. This dreadful realization may best be articulated through Hazel Barnes’ analogy that as if one would try to judge a Ford car without any Mr. Ford. So long as there is a Mr. Ford or one of his agents, then one has a model, one has a blueprint and one can say that the car which is coming there off the assembly line is a perfect Ford or an imperfect Ford. But without a plan, one cannot judge a car, and without God, there is no plan for Castiel and there is no final point of reference by which he can judge his values, or right or wrong, or declare that he has lived up to his possibilities or not lived up to his possibilities.

Yet despite “choosing your own course of action” being “confusing, terrifying,” Castiel is not in total despair. Dean, the human equivalent of the burden of a self-creative life, provides reference for Castiel on how to live a life as if there were no God. I have concluded thus that in the context of existentialism Castiel seeks Dean and humanity for answers and view them as his destination.

Note: this article is MOSTLY arguments in Hazel Barnes’ Self Encounter 2: The Far Side of Despair.

#destiel #supernatural #spn #castiel #dean winchester #existentialism #cas meta #dean meta

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cult-of-the-eye · 1 month

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inspired by @archivus' statements, i decided to give it a try myself

tw for depersonalisation, body image issues, body horror, slight gore

Out of Body Experience

Statement of Rebekah Fitch, regarding something that wasn’t her body. Original statement given 5th March 2018. Recording by [REDACTED], Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, Manchester. Committed to tape 26th March 2024.

Statement begins.

I never thought I would end up like this. I just-

I guess I should start from the start.

Throughout my life, I’ve had a complicated relationship with my body. Not to get too, um, personal or anything, but let’s just say it's tough being the child of an immigrant mother, especially, well, my mother. She would make comments about my body, small ones, I’ll admit, but ones that certainly built up to…recent events. On top of all that, I spent a lot of my teen years dissociating. Tricking my brain into believing that I wasn’t real. That nothing was. It’s a bit difficult to solidify an image of your body when half of you is ashamed of it and the other half doesn’t even consider your ownership of one. Ownership. I guess that’s sort of where it all began.

It was sometime in January when it all started to go wrong. I don’t exactly have a habit of staring at myself in the mirror, in fact, the only mirror I own in my cramped little flat is the bathroom one. It’s somehow always stained, a fact which I hesitate to admit helped me live with my…issues. The point is, the majority of the time, I didn’t know how I looked.

And then one day, I watched myself wake up.

I remember exactly how it felt. You know how people sometimes slice oranges in half and then take the peel, dig their fingers into the sides and push, letting each segment split from the other, hungrily leaning up towards you? That’s how I felt. Inverted. Wrong. I saw myself in a way that I had never, ever seen before. Each and every part of me that bulged where it shouldn’t have, thinned and yellowed at the edges like a fruit in its off-season. Whatever was happening to my eyes didn’t hurt, exactly, but I could feel every single part of my body as if it had suddenly awoken from a deep unconsciousness. It disgusted me. The life of it all. I panicked, of course, I thought I was having a really, really bad dream and that all I needed to do was wake up. But, no matter how many times I attempted to shield myself from the view, no matter how many times I willed every single synapse in my brain to connect and let my goddamn eyes close, nothing happened.

That nothing was the most excruciating nothing that I had ever experienced in my life. I was forced open, boneless and writhing. The me on the bed that I was watching slept soundly.

I don’t remember when I snapped out of it. I don’t remember how long it had been. I sat up, drenched in sweat, determined to be rid of the one mirror I had left. Putting it in the bin didn’t feel as triumphant as I believed it would. I guess part of me knew that this was no one-off.

Ok, I know what you’re thinking. It could just be a hallucination. I could be traumatised or mentally ill or on drugs. Well, I’m actually all of those things, which means that I have the unique ability to prove you wrong. I know what a hallucination feels like, I know what drug side effects feel like, and I know what my episodes feel like. And this? This was entirely separate. I don’t have to tell you that it happened again. I don’t have to tell you that I went from GP to GP, therapist to therapist to find out what was happening to me. But I will end this with proof.

Statement Ends.

Post-statement records include a medical report of one Rebekah Fitch. It outlines a series of scars of unidentified means on the underside of her eyelids, spelling out the phrase “I know that I exist.” Any attempts to follow up have led to dead ends. However, I’m afraid that I may be able to guess how this one ends.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma statements #tma fanfic #how else should i tag this

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wigglebox · 1 year

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tho for real, while talking with folks today, i do believe that’s gabriel and not loki [going off of gabe’s story that loki gave him the disguise at some point] due to language he used.

the interesting one was the use of ‘samesies’ as a friend said, which came about mostly, according to google, around 2007. which is also, interestingly, is the same year gabe’s/loki’s first episode aired lol.

but also, i do believe wholeheartedly that it was in fact chuck and not just a rob benedict easter egg, particularly bc this interview with robbie dropped before the episode:

Samuel is a big mythology character to come into the series. What’s the mandate been about how many of these “known characters should be folded into the first season?

You know, our mandate — and that’s a great phrase for it — was: What’s the story? What’s the story we’re trying to tell with these characters? They can’t just be Easter eggs and fun for the fans. We never said “no” to any character. We never said, like, “Absolutely not!” But when we got into the nitty gritty of “if we do bring in that character, what’s the story? What are we saying about Supernatural? And are we breaking anything that we, therefore, have to buy? Any time that was the case, where it felt like there was no more story here, and therefore it was just an Easter egg fun thing, we moved on from it. It’s not like they’re Pokemon and we’ve got to collect all of them. We really wanted to find a way to tell our story, and then how those character could exist within ours. So that was really the mandate.

basically, they’re not throwing in OG SPN characters for shits and giggles, they’re there for a purpose. And they even did a tighter shot on Rob playing the piano, and he was wearing a party city wig, AND he was wearing white.

you don’t casually throw in a rob benedict reference because for every new fan who won’t understand the significance or may pick up on the fact that it’s him, you have more of us OG SPN fans who would. And yeah, I know it was LS performing, but Rob didn’t say he was going to be there. No one was expecting it. I mean some of us were expecting for a while to see him pop up but there was no expectation that he would this episode.

and i’m thinking about this TBT he posted a while ago, as chuck, in swan song, wearing white, with an in-universe prequel comic book poster framed behind him of john winchester.

and another friend pointed out that there were quite a few lens flares during carlos’ singing scene.

so yeah.

that was chuck, that was gabe, and no i don’t think gabriel is stuck in a mirror. that’s just what he does to throw people off his trail. and if he is stuck in that mirror, obviously we know he doesn’t stay there.

and now we obviously know that dean’s in their timeline too

so — are they really in existence right now? are they in the empty? are they all sharing a mass hallucination? you have gabriel using modern language indicating time travel, you have dean and the car indicating time travel, and you have chuck who should not be having powers now if we are following the story linearly from OG SPN

Damn I love this show I can’t wait for more.

#long post #spnwin #spnwin spoilers #spnwin spec #idk where i was going with this but basically we just saw chuck and i'm screaming

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suchawrathfullamb · 4 months

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Hello again I was the one who asked u the s3 question and now I have finished watching the finale and tbh I have so many emotions going on right now but the main thing I want to know is - was Will aware that shit will go that way or did he plan Hannibal escape or he was just going with the flow?? What was the endgame he wanted to have ? I am confused because his plan doesn't seem like a solid plan. He also warned Bedelia before all that . So like what was happening in the finale 😅😅😅

I think we can't try to rationalize actions that were bordering on insane. Bedelia clocked that when she said "what you are becoming is pathological". She is arguably the most intelligent and perceptive character in the show, so we know she's absolutely right about this. "You found religion", she says. Will is not close to normal or sane in this last part of the series, and this show has that element of "long term foreshadowing", so things that happened in season one, only made sense in season two and so on, and unfortunately they were almost certain they'd be getting a 4th season, so I'm pretty sure most questions would be answered there :/.

But, I think it's safe to say they were prepping us for a completely insane Will Graham, since Fuller said in season four it would be "Will Graham's broken mind".

I believe his actions were already mirroring this brokenness, so it's hard to try and make sense of them, he was acting carelessly.

But we do have interesting insights from the script that could help us answer your question:

Here we see that Will is shattered and incomplete. This is when Francis gets him in the hotel room.

Here we understand that Will is mirroring a scene where Francis burned down his shrine. Both he and Hannibal are lighting up votive candles. This isn't random, no writer would waste time putting such specific detail and then making sure this was on the scene, for no reason or aesthetic reasons (aesthetics would not be on the script unless it had symbolic meaning, notice how they never write the coloring of the show, the way they light up Mads' face to look like a skull, etc, those are aesthetic choices and do not need to be specified on script in such detailed manner).

VOTIVE in all caps is very meaningful, too. For those who don't know, this is what votive candles mean:

Both of them are lighting votives. At the altar.

Then, we have this line that Will says to Reba, about Francis:

This is basically foreshadowing of the cliff scene/dragon fight. This is exactly what both Will and Hannibal feel about one another.

And just before he executes the plan, we have this great exchange with Bedelia:

He had no clue what he truly wanted. All he wanted was to free Hannibal. The rest was just happening. To him, Hannibal could've simply escaped after Francis shot the police. He asked Will to come. Will had no idea of the existence of the cliff house or anything like that, so he couldn't have predicted exactly what happened.

It's the exact same picture of an addict. If you spend a long time in abstinence, then you use, it hits harder than before and the recovery becomes even more difficult. He spent three years without Hannibal, "was it good to see me?", "Good? No." It was not good, it fucked him up. He was losing his mind and we see that in scenes where he's beginning to hallucinate again and is gradually being more affected by the Dragon's "energy"/idea.

He also threatened Bedelia, "I'd pack my bags if I were you". He had the intention of releasing Hannibal and all hell breaks loose after that. He had no specific plan other than setting H free and watching everything burn down.

#ask the lamb #hannibal meta #hannibal analysis #hannigram #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #hannibal lecter #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen

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marximoff · 2 years

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to grow old in | w. maximoff

summary: after getting hurt on a mission, you're back home, into your wife's arms. but it's time to think about the future, and what will become of your family if you and Wanda continue down this path.

warnings: heavy make out, mommy kink (but not really??), graphic description of injury, canon typical violece, but just pure fluffiness as a whole (and me simping for Wanda ofc)

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 5k

A/N: this one shot takes place in the universe of the main series, i wanne be somebody (somebody to you), but can be read separately. it's just very, very gay

enjoy!

|series masterlist|

《《《《《《《ᱬ》》》》》》》

You were fully aware that you had spent more days away than initially agreed. And you knew Wanda Maximoff well enough to hold some certainty that your fidgety wife would be waiting for you for far more seconds and minutes than she initially expected to have to pass away from the caresses of your arms.

But two days (two days and one night) can easily take an entire week's worth of sleep when you're only sleeping four hours a night, with your spine outrageously toughened poorly against the door can of a military jeep and a rationalized amount of food and water that was just (sparsely) enough so that there would be no collective hallucination that could compromise the mission's development – or, to a greater extent, lead to some type of collapse provoked after some serious condition of starvation.

Steve said he'd only seen it happen a couple of times in the fields of the war he fought in (young chicken-skinned lads swooning from weakness, their scrawny muscles barely able to lift their heavy iron rifles above shoulder height), and then you decided you wanted to go home soon.

Wherever home was now.

Perhaps in the extensive fjords surrounded by ranges of the sharp mountains of Sweden, or in the tracks of the enormous castles of Denmark that referred to a distant medieval memory. Wherever your wife was with your children at that moment, there would be your home.

And dear God, how you missed them.

Every time your jaded vision ended up capturing the image of your left hand with something missing to adorn your ring finger (no wedding rings allowed during the mission), you'd remember Wanda, her sweet smile with her scrunched nose, and something in you wished she was there, as she had been so many times before that (two young teenage girls in love taking time out of the woodwork to make out in a few snoozes that went beyond the limits of common sense, kissing sounds echoing behind a thicket or a sunny tree).

But it had barely been a month since Wanda had given birth to two children at once, between thunderous screams and glimmering lights and shattering mirrors. And you wouldn't let your very young boys away from the mainstay and zeal of a mother's gaze, or your recovery-time wife soaking up in hours and hours of blistering scorching sun on top of her pretty red head.

No, no.

The most you could keep from them, in those desert miles of dust and sand, was a crumpled and folded photograph tucked into the back pocket of your army-cloth pants (Wanda tenderly nursing Tommy by stroking her partially exposed right breast, with Billy placidly asleep like a teddy bear on her thighs).

But when you've been ambushed for so long among the hard dunes of the arid and remote Syrian desert, already feeling like a new part of the sandy gravel that haunted in small flat and uncomfortable mounds inside your military-sized boots, with the sweat assorted with the sunburned tediousness corroding your brain so much that the act of counting and cataloging grains of sand had become your new hobby, time and space merged into a single dreamlike figure, and there was no more how to keep any sense of how many days have passed since you last asked what day it was.

(Sam said it was actually only two hours and twenty-three minutes, and then you grumbled and huffed, slapping your open palm into a small pile of sand like a frustrated child, sending a cloud of dust flying everywhere)

And there were many and many miles of pure nothingness around you, miles in diameter spanned by vast expanses of downcast sand dunes and dry, mountainous canyons. As far as the eye could see, as far as your eyes squinted to perceive with redundant effort. Sky and sand meeting on the horizon as if it were the endlessness of the blue sea.

You wanted to run back to kiss Wanda and never stop again (even when your lungs burned for air and your jaw was too stiff to move properly, like you were chewing on a lead ball).

A sandy, inhospitable soil – and, in a way, even unruly – that could well compile into factors that are unattractive to the external eye in the face of the sandy environment, at any moment of rest in its intermittence. A long steppe that ran south towards the Arabian Peninsula and dried the face of your tongue.

You knew that there was, by the vast constitutive magnitude of the universe, no soul that liked (or even prized for) sand. You didn't like it at all, at least. But the mission was to be somewhat simple; or at least as simple as it could be, given its nothing less than treacherous nature.

Natasha had first been the courageous paladin to infiltrate the guerrillas of a band of terrorists in the heart of Al Hamad, because a former contact from the apex of her occupation as an transnational spy had leaked information that the bandits were receiving shipments of American weapons loaded with Chitauri material, and you and your remaining teammates were called upon to intervene in the shipment before the repercussions were such that it fueled an (already old) religious conflict that had been going on for centuries in the region.

For you, it was the task of purely waiting blankly for Steve's signal (a specific hand movement made by Captain America, an opening and closing of the fingers in a vigorous fist) for you to set sail on bent knees towards some well-armed men, raise your own primed fists clasped like a steel plate, and punch some stomachs and ribs in a dance already familiar to you, when the time was right.

Easy, simple, clean, fair.

And then the damn word echoed in the air, even before you or Steve or Sam or Nat could intercede.

The word that was bequeathed so much meaning, encumbered with such relevance, that it was even outlandish to your ears to hear it being instituted on you and your teammates yet again, after so long shuffling through the darkness, away from any value related to your split up old group.

That same word that would always be distinguished by your ears, regardless of the language by which it would be articulated.

“Avengers!”

It was a half-shrieked cry, like a siren's warning, and droplets of saliva sprang up from the back of the mouth which was covered by a dirty, worn rag.

The index finger of the guy's left hand, sitting snugly on the trigger of a funny looking pistol with an odd outside compartment that pulsed bright violet, like a glue gun loaded with some radioactive material.

And then a streak of whitish-purple light lit, for half a second, the gloom of the cement-and-stone terrorist hideout.

A masked man glanced his way, blinked a few times, and glanced at a companion beside him, before swinging his arm through ninety angles and pointing the barrel of the gun towards you, which flashed a ray of silver as it reflected light from a flickering light bulb hanging in a cone shape above your head.

The same man uttered a guttural roar, before collapsing to the ground not to get up again.

A still-smoking pistol, leaking thick lilac ectoplasm from its partially melted barrel like a fountain of glittery howl juice, still hovering its puffs of thick smoke through the air, lay next to his left hand. The hand clasped in a firm fist of Natasha's was still standing in midair, at the height of where the man's back had been.

And you, as solid and compact as your eccentric active mutant gene allowed your physique to be, had a new hole opened in your body when you fell flat on your back, onto the sandy floor, with a hard thud.

“F-fuck! Fuck!”

A gaping hole that took skin and flesh and clothing with it; a scorching, corrosive hole slashed into your left bicep, the muscle between your shoulder and elbow hollowed out by a quick jet of boiling alien plasma shot out – not bleeding from the suture, though, as an instantaneous outcome of cauterization burning against the open blood vessels.

A sharp, acidic pain that made your stomach feel like ice and pierced your nervous system as if a pin had been stuck in your brain stem, the message coursing through your body to make you realize that yes, it was hurting, and it was hurting like hell.

Your arm wasn't actually ripped off, but from the feeling of torn muscle and throbbing open wound, it might as well have been.

Someone came to your aid (Natasha's dyed whitish hair looking silver in the hiding light and then gold in the sunlight) when someone led the way (in the open blue desert sky Sam looked like a real falcon seen from afar, slicing through the oxygen molecules with his long metal wings) and someone led as far as it was safe (Steve threw a beveled metal plate like a square Frisbee that hit a man in the forehead), and then someone closed the hot, gaping wound on your arm (a thin, gold-colored twirl derailed from the Mind Stone embedded in Vision's metallic forehead, creating fresh new skin tissue to join the opening of muscle and mass in the structure of your biceps).

“It will add another cool scar for the collection” Natasha said from behind you, as you looked down at the freshly healed wound on your skin reflected in a small wall mirror, “Girls dig a scar, I can tell you that”

“I don't know about girls, but my wife is particularly going to be very worried when she sees this here” you sighed, lifting your open shirt sleeve to fit the fabric back to the outline of your shoulder, “Damn…”

And it was as if nothing had happened. You were brand new, good to go.

At least, that's how you felt when you walked into your modest rented apartment in a tiny hamlet of Danish territory two days into a quick quinjet ride later, your partially healed wound long forgotten in the confines of your memory – all that was left was a funny story to tell among friends and a likely ugly scar located in an easy spot to hide from the eyes of other people.

You slipped your sneakers off your feet with the help of the bent index finger of your right hand, tucking them into the gap between your shoe and your heel, and then you hung your thick coat by the collar on the brass rack near the door. A throbbing twinge gripped your shoulder, but you didn't care all that much.

As you held the coat up to your eye length, the wedding ring back where it always belonged in shimmered in the light of a lamp, in a thin golden spark. It was a slender band, pretty and reserved, but it still carried with it some elegant charm of bright simplicity.

Like your marriage to Wanda, you always liked to think with a smile on your face. Simple and commonplace, but no less special or prestigious.

Your wife had always been a person to wear a considerable amount of rings on the extensions of her slender, delicate fingers, but the wedding ring was an extra touch, jubilantly jutting out from her other circular ornaments.

From the wandering silence on the walls of the dwelling, you knew the twins were asleep; It was late and children so young are not able to sleep for a whole night, so you decided not to announce your arrival noisily or even do some very booming sounds.

Wandering quietly into the apartment, you didn't take long to find Wanda, and something in your gut reverberated with craving to see her there, your wife, sprawled and huddled in the right corner of the linen sofa set right in the center of the living room of short walls and ghostly curtains. She looked lenient and peaceful, her chest rising and falling deliberately as she snored delicately to the rhythm dictated by sleep.

Her long hair dyed a light copper color was like a blanket of fire that encompassed her luscious body, and you didn't have to look more than once to see that Wanda was wearing an old rock band t-shirt around her thin torso (the same one that you had bought on Hot Topic when you were sixteen years old).

The blouse was already worn out and battered, but it fit Wanda effortlessly – she, who had her pink lips half-opened and leaked narrow streams of oxygen between them.

You might as well kiss her and never let her go.

But you just approached with lethargic steps, without making any noise, and lowered your right hand so that the tenderness of your fingers deferred caresses to the bare leg (for Wanda was wearing cotton pajama shorts) along the soft skin next to her heel, the affectionate touch, rising towards her thigh, causing a brief thrill in your wife's body.

Her hips were wider after nine months of pregnancy, and her figure was lyrical and stoic, so beautiful to see with your eyes.

“Wands?” you called to her in a low, cordial voice, flanked by an affectionate tenderness that was reflected in the tiny, domestic smile distended by the pulp of your lips.

“Hmm...?” it was the murmur in return, more of a crisscrossing sigh of sleep expelled through her nose than an actual answer.

You were crouched down next to the sofa, your bent knee touching the face of a soft linen pillow. Wanda shifted a little, her lips parted, her warm hair swishing as she did; and you felt the red heat emanating from her, through her soft, sleep-warmed arms and legs.

You instantly realized that you could kiss a crack of skin on her neck or the corner of her mouth.

“Wands”

“Y/N...?”

“Hi there, little witch” you smiled smally.

But then your wife opened her eyes, and from between her long eyelashes an emerald -green shrouded in a dense fog of drowsiness.

The eyes that scrutinized through the features of your face analyzed you with a certain glint of misunderstanding, but then a flash of identification shone in the irises adorned with esteem and affection, and it was that an exultant smile appeared on Wanda's lips; a smile that meant that even after a long and tiring mission, after all you were home, where you belonged.

The smug smile gleamed with the two vaguely larger front teeth that marred Wanda's pretty features, as she pressed her eyes gleaming in love into two good-natured lines, exuding scarlet bliss through her pores, scrunching a beam of skin of her nose as she did, making her look like a cute little rabbit.

"You're back" Wanda announced, still a little waved by the drunkenness of sleep, her voice a little groggy from the slumber, supporting her head weight by the neck so that you were at eye level, "You're back, zaichik "

"I'm back indeed, my love"

Something affable reverberated through your heartstrings at the little affectionate nickname uttered in her native tongue, in innocent simplicity when she was plunged into a haze of sleep.

She raised her arms like a child crying out to be lifted, and curled the outline of them around the back of your neck, pulling you lazily as close to her as possible, and you stuck your nose into a beam of bare skin from her exposed neck, between a fluff of silky auburn hair as she did the same, tucking her face into the hollow where your neck connected with your collarbone, both of you letting out a pleasant sigh as you did.

There it smelled like strawberries with a mix of mild cinnamon and vegetable soap and just the whole red color. It smelled like home; like Wanda, like your children. You touched the warm skin of her back beneath the fabric of her shirt, caressing her flesh in careful circles laid down the length of her spine by the tips of your articulate fingers, pulling her closer to your body.

She snorted into a silly giggle as you took advantage of your exuberant strength to grab her around the waist and then sit her on your lap as you turned around with your knees bent and sat on the couch, where seconds before Wanda was the one lying there; the ends of her sleep-rumpled red hair brushing against the material of your blouse, the cotton fabric of her short shorts pulled up in folds down the insides of her thighs.

It was such a casual, everyday sight, so domestic, that Wanda couldn't be more beautiful than she was there in your lap, wearing only some pajamas and your t-shirt on her slender, good-looking body.

“I missed you” she whispered in a breathed voice, the tips of your noses almost touching due to your close proximity, your smiles sliding against each other, “I really missed you, malyshka”

The fingers of her left hand curled around the back of your neck, the coolness of the wedding ring contrasting against Wanda's warm palm touching your skin, caressing there with the tips of her clipped nails, lacquered with a sober black nail polish.

“I missed you so much too, baby. God, Wanda, I missed you so, so much..." and you sunk your forehead into the valley between her breasts, exhaling her scent there from the fabric of your shirt, "I hate being away from you and the boys. I swear, I could hardly wait to get home”

"But you're back now, sweetheart" without showing her teeth, Wanda smiled with just a line of lips, never stopping with the caress on the skin of your neck, "You came back to me"

“I will always come back to you, Wanda. Always. To you and the boys”

“They really missed mommy, you know” she mussed, trying to hide a smile from blooming on her mouth.

You, on the other hand, felt something primal awakening inside you.

“Is that so?” you arched an eyebrow full of meaning, your hands squeezing with pleasure the inside of her thighs, “Just them?”

"Well," Wanda whispered, rather mischievously, "I missed mommy too"

However, Wanda's smile frayed at the edge of her throat like the echo of a desire, as you saw your wife's dark gaze magnetized toward the pulp of your lips, and nothing else could be what she craved, in a color of shadier and darker moss green sparking thorough her eyes, with such pleasure and delight aimed towards your gapped mouth.

And in just a simple act, Wanda did what was the right thing to do – reached forward and took you to her, flattening the commission of your lips against her hibiscus-cinnamon-flavored mouth.

Soon, through an aggregation of lips, a tongue became evident, and with it you took for yourself all the flavor of tea that encompassed your wife's mouth. Not allowing herself to be outdone, however, Wanda unleashed her own tongue, and that one tangled with the one you wet your lips with in the first place.

A lingering kiss dissolved, but you held your breath and again sought out more of your wife's taste, being eagerly returned by an affectionate Wanda.

And then, a strong, powerful touch, palms spread wide and pressed to the curve of her ass, prompted an ambrosial moan that crept from the inside of her throat to pulse against the alignment of her teeth; a certain familiar sensation taking hold between your legs as you did.

But the next groan came from you, when Wanda's left palm touched and then lasciviously enfolded your injured biceps through your blouse, inferring an immediate, instinctive recoil on your part along with a lame grunt of sharp pain. It was painful like accidentally hitting an arm that had recently received a vaccine against the wall.

You grumbled under your breath at the sensation, wrinkling your nose and pinching your brows together.

“Ugh!”

You leaned your spine against the back of the sofa and Wanda leaned back a little too, panting, chest heavy and quite confused, lust and misunderstanding glowing in her irises lit by the dim yellow light of a nearby lamp.

"Baby? What happened? What's wrong?”

"N-nothing" was a whispered lie, "Nothing, don't worry"

And you started to drink from her lips again, but a steady hand kept on your breastbone retained you stagnant against the back of the sofa.

“Y/N” Wanda frowned her eyebrows in an air of concern, showing seriousness in her measured tone of voice, coercing you into sincerity, “Please tell me what's wrong”

And then, a lame sigh.

You opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish, not quite knowing what to say, and then you chewed poorly on your lower lip between your upper teeth. But all it took was one steady look from Wanda for you to finally give up, shrugging both your shoulders in surrender.

"Just promise me you won't get mad"

"I won't be mad if you just tell me what happened, Y/N"

And then, a moment's hesitation; Wanda's red hair like tongues of fire around her sharp jaw as the locks were lit by the yellow lamp as she sits there, snuggled in your palpitating lap as she was.

“I… got hurt on the mission. Nothing too serious or dangerous, and Vision has taken care of at least ninety percent of that” you shrug, “It just hurt a little when you squeezed it, babe, that's all, it's okay”

And then, a silence went by.

"Let me see"

"What?"

“Let me see your bruise, Y/N”

And it wouldn't be worth resisting; you just took the long sleeve of your thick blouse by the fingers of your left hand and rolled it the entire length of your arm, passing from wrist to elbow and then finally to shoulder, like unfolding a gift wrap on Christmas morning.

The action was all scrutinized assiduously by the young witch, who let out a yelp of exclamation as the bandage tightly wrapped around the contour of your deltoid muscle was disclosed, white bands wrapping the entire length of your biceps.

“I promise it looks worse than it really is,” you tried, but nothing would stop the smoldering worry from shuddering into Wanda on a wave of anxiety that washed over her.

“Y/N, your superpower is being impenetrable” your wife muttered, in an apprehensive thread of voice, her eyes never leaving the bandage enfolded on your arm.

“You're not supposed to be able to get hurt! I was less worried about you going on missions with Steve alone because I knew that nothing or no one could hurt you, but now..."

You heard as she swallowed hard, shaking her head in denial (straws of silky fire hair rustling close to her chin), muttering whimpers to herself that all sounded the same guilty tone in your wife's comely voice.

“I should have been there, I should have been there to protect you, I-”

“No, honey, no,” you call out to her, as the anxiety became too much for her to handle and the ghosts of her past came back to haunt her like a constant shadow she always carried around.

You then took Wanda's face between your hands, by the sides of her jawbones, coercing her into making eye contact with you.

“Baby, it hasn't even been two months since the boys were born, you know you still need to recover before getting back into action. And on top of everything else, they need you here for them. It's just a silly bruise, my love, that's all. I can take care of myself. You remember our deal when we found out you were pregnant, right? I would go to the missions, you would stay with the boys. When you recovered, you could go and then I would take care of them. You remember that, right?”

"I just don't want there to be any more missions at all, Y/N" she muttered in a small voice, curling a hand around your forearm that held the sides of her oval face.

"I don't want to have to think that every time you leave through that door could be the last time I'll ever see you. I don't want the boys to grow up not knowing who their mother is"

You tried to say something, but there was really nothing to say.

Not when you knew your wife was all plastered by reason. Not when you knew you had a family to raise, and that it certainly wouldn't be worth dying alone, forgotten in some ditch after an unsuccessful run-in with some bad guy a little stronger than you were used to.

No, you knew the heroic days were in the past to remember.

That soon this life would come to an end, and you and Wanda would be a couple of housewives raising your children with lots of love and affection and, honestly, this idea didn't seem so bad after all.

But there erupted into the air, before you could even open your mouth or she could intervene, a piercing sound that alerted both of you to the maternal senses, dissipating the thin layer of distress that still hovered around the small living room.

In tears, Billy had woken up, and in cries, he needed attention – psychic energy emanating from him, but too weak for Wanda to properly know it.

“Damn, I nursed them before bed, I-”

Perhaps the waves of unease emanating from his parents were picked up by his senses still blooming at such an early age, magical vigor gradually growing in his little body like the bricks that eventually come to form a complete house, but the point is that after a twin waking up doesn't take long for the other to do the same, and then it was that two children cried morosely with their little yells piercing the veil of darkness of the night.

Wanda threatened to get to her feet, already on full alert, but you held her in a deferred firm grip against her waist bone, keeping her sitting on your lap.

“I’ll go,” you said solemnly, when it was that she looked at you, “You handled this all by yourself for a week, honey. Let me go”

“But you just got back from the mission-”

“And you took care of two newborns by yourself for a whole week. Trust me, I know which of these things is the hardest, and it sure as hell isn't fighting some terrorists in the desert"

You then carefully set Wanda aside, draping her legs over yours so you could sit her upright back to the couch.

“And besides everything” you smiled, and already standing, placed a warm kiss against the commission of her lips, “I miss my little dudes”

And you took a few steps away from the couch, towards the whimper, but stopped before you reached the crying babies in the bedroom. Turning with your chin over your shoulder, you aimed your gaze towards Wanda.

“Wands?”

Greenish eyes flickered toward you through the air, watered with anticipation. Once again, you smiled.

“I love you, little witch”

It was a few days later, however, after you'd finished changing a very energetic Tommy's diaper (the baby kicking with his chubby little legs, pressing his own little fist against his pink gums), that you approached Wanda, who nursed little Billy so lovingly against the mainstay of her right breast, humming a Sokovian lullaby in low tones so that only her precious little boy would hear and know, from an early age, what his roots were.

The little newborn who, in turn, was thus sheltered by Wanda's tender and delectable embrace, with her pure breast hidden by his small pearly mouth.

Sucking noises escaped from this exciting union created, then, between mother and son, consolidated by the small cheeky little left hand well screwed on the slender index finger of your wife's right hand.

Tommy, meanwhile, was one step away from kicking you in the ribs with his smart wriggly little legs.

Your watchful gaze skimmed over her for a few minutes, until Billy stopped sucking at Wanda's breast as he fell into a blissful infant sleep, into a breast-milk-induced coma.

Wanda gratified the baby with a warm kiss, deposited the crown of his head in a tuft of light brown hair (as a young Pietro Maximoff had once been), and handed your sleeping son into your embrace, whereupon the child rotation then left her with the other baby to nurse.

“Is anyone hungry, huh, my sweet Tommy?”

The older twin was fierce against her breast, and you noticed the times when Wanda kind of sighed in pain, but tiredness got the better of him after a while; he, too small to fight what was wearing him out, with sleep fluttered in his ebony lashes as his childish eyes blinked.

Both energetic pupils, reluctant before the benevolence of drowsiness squinted to the horizon of his large doll eyes, were obscured by the brutish small lids.

And then, he was soon snoozing like his brother, dispersed in his own reality – his little chest swelling and deflating because he was there, and he was real, and he was alive, and he was fine.

You looked from Billy to Tommy and then to Wanda. Your family. Your greatest asset. There was a lull inside of you.

“What do you think of New Jersey, honey? I lived there during my childhood, with my parents. You know, before the accident, of course. I don't think it's to everyone's taste, but… I've always particularly liked the weather. It’s... nice there, in spring”

Wanda gave you a confused smile; her hand was still cradling Tommy's little head in her arms.

“What do I think of New Jersey for what exactly, dorogoya?”

And then you blinked once, and smiled towards her.

“To grow old in”

《《《《《《《ᱬ》》》》》》》

taglist: @diaryoflife, @iliketozoneout, @raqelacevedo, @wizardofstories, @wlwfanfictionss, @wandsmxmff

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head-empty-just-sigma · 1 year

Text

What is the point?

seriously, what is it?

hah, gottem

basically i want to discuss how Atsushi’s image of Dazai and other influential characters in his life have changed over the course of the story. including his own ability, the White Tiger itself

also, i plan on doing a copium-driven theory of how zenki soukoku may mirror soukoku’s reuniting from chapter 31 in a future chapter, which should be posted before chapter 106 hopefully

also also, i want to decipher Dazai’s mental gymnastics a bit as his dialogue in ch105 is making my analyst brain cells tingle but this might take a while to write, so it might be posted next month? idk

🔺spoilers for chapter 105 (the most recent chapter as of writing this), chapters 24, 28-29, 35, 39, 51-53, 63-64, 84-87, 102, and 103.5, and Dead Apple🔻

i won’t lie, this ended up being pretty long. skip to the end of the post for a pseudo-TLDR of my main points for chapter 105 specifically if you don’t feel like reading it all

First, we have the man who stole the show from Atsushi; Dazai

We start, not at the very beginning, but the first event that sparked Atsushi's development of Dazai's image beyond just seeing him as his superior in the ADA.

I’m sure we all can recognize this panel, from back in chapter 24 when Atsushi began to fall to the inner turmoil over his ability all over again. Dazai would have none of it, doing the only thing he knows how to do as a ‘mentor’. He physically slaps Atsushi to shock him out of his train of thought, and then proceeds to say some of the most meaningful lines to ever come out of his mouth; he tells Atsushi that he can’t wallow in self-pity, because all it would do is trap him in an endless nightmare. This is really the first time Dazai has given straight-up advice to Atsushi in a way that’s clear and forward, instead of saying it in some weird riddle for Atsushi to figure out on his own.

I think this is important because it’s only after this point that Atsushi begins to turn to Dazai in his mind when he needs to come up with plans on his own.

In situations where Atsushi isn’t sure what to do or needs to come up with a plan on his own, he uses Dazai as a point of reference. ‘What would Dazai do?’ He also firmly believes that Dazai will be there to support him, as we see in chapter 28 and 29 where he jumps out of the Moby Dick and does all he can to deliver Kyuusaku’s Dogra Magra doll to Dazai, which is a plan he made all on his own just with the firm belief that Dazai would be there to nullify the doll. This is reinforced by Dazai telling him that he was indeed waiting for Atsushi to land with the doll.

A little less important for Dazai’s development is chapter 39. In 39, Atsushi asks Dazai of all people for advice on how to express how he feels after finding out the Orphanage Director died, despite the fact that Dazai 1. never had a father figure either besides Mori, and 2. is one of the most emotionally constipated characters in the entire series. This just proves that Atsushi believes he can rely on Dazai for more than just things relating to the ADA, which I think stemmed from Dazai’s lines in chapter 24. There’s also the few times where Atsushi begins to notice and understand Dazai’s facial expressions, and generally understands his mental gymnastics a little bit better.

Nothing else of note happens between Atsushi and Dazai until chapter 63, where Atsushi ‘hallucinates’ Dazai for the first time. Atsushi is essentially on his own at this point, and he knows this, which makes him begin to doubt himself. This moment of self doubt sparks the hallucination of Dazai asking Atsushi if he was going to give up that easily, which gives Atsushi the little push he needed to ask himself ‘What would Dazai do?’ in this situation. From there, he’s able to confidently come up with a detailed plan based on the information available to him. Just like Dazai would do.

After that, the focus of the story becomes pretty scattered honestly. We rarely see the same characters month to month, including Atsushi. The only two points after chapter 63 are in chapter 102, where Dazai tells Atsushi (in his mind) that he needs to wake up because he’s running out of time, and in chapter 105, where Dazai appears at the end of the cast of characters Atsushi sees. Dazai is the last character to appear, to point him (quite literally) in the right direction, to tell him he needs to keep going, as the last bit of encouragement Atsushi needed in order to move forward with what he thinks is the best course of action.

Atsushi, in the beginning, saw Dazai as his superior in the ADA, his coworker, not much different than the other members. As the story progressed and Dazai gave Atsushi advice and continued to point him towards the end goal again and again, no matter how hopeless it seemed, Atsushi now sees Dazai as someone he can look at for inspiration when the situation looks dire, and when all other options are exhausted. Dazai will be there, metaphorically or literally, because Atsushi believes he will be.

Next, let’s talk about the Orphanage Director (aka, the Headmaster)

Besides being single-handedly the worst character in the entire story, the Headmaster serves as one of the major influences over how Atsushi views his ability and his capabilities. His self doubt comes from the abuse at the hands of the Headmaster, who convinced Atsushi he essentially had no worth as a human being.

The first time we see Atsushi hallucinate the Headmaster outside of the typically flashbacks in the beginning is in chapter 28, while Atsushi is trapped on the Moby Dick. Just as he starts to think of what he can do in his situation, the Headmaster appears to spew his doubt of Atsushi’s capabilities. The distraction is momentary, as Atsushi is able to physically swipe away the hallucination after telling the Headmaster to shut up. This is one of the rare times he’s able to confidently defy the words of the Headmaster, which is important considering this occurs after Atsushi’s accident under the influence of Dogra Magra.

Directly after that comes the depressing chapter 29, where we actually see some of the things the Headmaster did to Atsushi. In the span of this one chapter, however, we also learn that besides being a gross example of unrestricted child abuse, the Headmaster had his reasons (albeit twisted, morally wrong, and just plain messed up ones) for his actions. The most obvious reason is Atsushi’s uncontrollable ability. From the flashback in Dead Apple, it’s probably safe to assume that Atsushi’s ability turned him into a fully-grown or mostly fully-grown tiger from the very beginning. The Headmaster kept Atsushi locked up in a cell by himself to minimize the damage done by the tiger. Another reason for his actions was because that’s how he was treated as a child, as he was coincidentally also raised in an abusive orphanage, and humans grow up heavily influenced by those who raised them and the environment surrounding that. To the Headmaster, being abusive was probably the only way he knew how to raise children. Finally, the Headmaster specifically wanted Atsushi to hate him because he was a horrible person. He wanted Atsushi to see his evilness and be repulsed by it, so that when Atsushi saw worse evils outside of the orphanage, he’d naturally hate them, too. The Headmaster also drilled the thought into Atsushi’s head that saving people would give him self worth, so he should do his utmost to save as many people as he could.

Of course, absolutely none of those reasons can excuse the Headmaster’s actions and abuse of Atsushi and the other children in the orphanage. He was truly, and justifiably the worst character in Atsushi’s life. If anything, in the end, he deserved to die.

Dazai’s words to Atsushi in chapter 29 also help him realize that while, yes, he went through absolute hell at the orphanage, that hell raised him to be the person he is now.

The Headmaster appears as a hallucination of sorts in chapter 52 towards the end of shin soukoku’s fight with Ivan. He doesn’t say anything, but Atsushi acknowledges his presence anyway, telling Aku that the Headmaster, despite being dead, still lives in Atsushi’s mind. But, Atsushi understands that as long as he follows a righteous path and saving people, he can rid himself of the Headmaster eventually.

It’s also notable that he does not appear in chapter 105, meaning he doesn’t hold as much influence over Atsushi as he used to compared to the characters who do show up.

In the end, Atsushi has come to terms with the fact that while the Headmaster made his childhood miserable, and caused him a lot of mental anguish, the misery did it’s job of teaching Atsushi to be a good person. Although in a twisted, unhealthy way.

Let’s move on to Akutagawa

Aku doesn’t hold as much influence over Atsushi compared to the previous two characters, but Atsushi’s image and opinion of Aku has definitely changed over time

At the beginning, Atsushi had plenty of reasons to see Aku as just a dangerous mafioso who kills others in a gross display of strength. This view never really changes much in the beginning of their forced partnership, and Aku also continuously tries to pick fights with Atsushi on missions, so he’s not helping his case much.

The first time this begins to change is chapter 35, during the fight between shin soukoku and Fitzgerald. Atsushi decides to ask Aku if he’s foolish for wanting to escape the past (his childhood trauma) by fighting to save others. Aku answers yes, he is foolish. Because the pain of the past has nothing to do with who Atsushi is now. Atsushi commits this to the back of his mind, and in return, offers Aku the fact that Dazai probably already acknowledged him a long time ago. This trade of confirmation marks the true beginning of development in how Atsushi sees Akutagawa.

The next time they’re forced to work together is chapter 51-53, where it seems like Atsushi’s views haven’t changed much, but that’s not necessarily the case. Atsushi reuses the point that he sees Aku as someone who jumps to murder before thinking about the mission, which is true considering Aku wanted to fight Atsushi instead of focus on their mission. However, after Atsushi insults Aku, instead of trying to kill him, Aku kind of just accepts it. And whatever expression he made, Atsushi certainly saw it and understood it. After this, Aku and Atsushi have their first real conversation about their individual motives for fighting. This gives them a better understanding of each other, and serves as the catalyst for Aku’s follow up question near the end of their fight with Ivan. Atsushi reveals that the Headmaster still haunts him, so he must continue to save others to rid himself of his past, which Aku accepts as a good enough answer to make the biggest development in their partnership: the Black Tiger Claws singularity. Not to mention, some of their lines from these chapters revealed that the two of them understand each other better because they tried to kill each other so much. Atsushi also seems to be putting more trust in Aku, which probably comes from understanding his motivations and seeing Aku’s attitude changing slowly since chapter 35. Chapter 53 is also when Atsushi made Aku promise to not kill anyone for 6 months.

Then, of course, we have chapters 84-87. Atsushi is at the end of his rope, facing Fukuchi in an impossible 1 vs 1. He’s desperate, wishing he wasn’t alone to face such an evil force. In that moment of despair, Akutagawa appears to offer assistance. Atsushi is surprised, but he realizes that he is no longer alone, because Akutagawa is there. Atsushi has developed his view of Aku from an unreliable and unpredictable murder-hungry mafioso, to a mostly reliable but undeniably strong ally, so much so that he believes the two of them together can beat Fukuchi. Aku also reveals that he’s kept his promise to not kill anyone, which allows Atsushi to further develop his trust in Aku as an ally and partner. Plus, in their strategizing, they both show that they use soukoku as a point of reference for coming up with the best plan based on what they would do.

The biggest show of development is when Atsushi places his full trust in Aku at the end of their fight, as they charge towards each other. Atsushi, now that he’s seen how Aku has grown as a person to become Atsushi’s strongest partner and ally, is able to believe in Aku to know the silent plan between them like their predecessors in soukoku.

“I can’t afford to disappoint Dazai-san”

Akutagawa was there to assist Atsushi on Dazai’s orders. And Atsushi knows this.

Atsushi even acknowledges the trust that has built up between the two of them that got them to this point, as the powerful new generation of soukoku. From enemy to ally, Atsushi has accepted Aku as his partner. Now if only Aku hadn’t died and got vampire-d…

Akutagawa appears as a hallucination in chapter 105, not to insult Atsushi, but to offer a push in the right direction. Look outside, look at what’s ahead, look at the goal you need to reach. Look outside his mind and his past to see what’s waiting for him in the future.

Atsushi’s ability and his acceptance of the Tiger

Atsushi’s ability is pretty unique within the bsd world, considering he can sort of interact and talk to it as a separate entity from himself. The only other person we see do something even remotely close to this is Dostoy when he’s separated from his ability in Dead Apple, and he has a back-and-forth villain monologue with it. Mori can also interact with his own ability, but that’s because his ability is a manifestation, not something in his mind, so he doesn’t count.

In chapter 29, Atsushi is falling out of the sky after jumping from the Moby Dick and being hit by Twain. He’s unconscious, and is doubting his plans to save the city. The Tiger appears in his mind, and proceeds to lunge Atsushi, who allows himself to be attacked. Atsushi merely tells the Tiger to eat, as he hates himself the most, and embraces the Tiger’s head while thanking it for everything it’s done up until then. The Tiger, after hearing Atsushi thank it, suddenly takes over his body and fully transforms mid-air. The Tiger lands on the ground on its feet, as all cats do, despite breaking its own legs in the process. Atsushi’s body is completely unharmed, though. This is the first time the Tiger has acted on its own to save Atsushi (not counting his first battle with Aku).

In chapter 35, we see Atsushi outright ask for the Tiger’s help during the battle with Fitzgerald. This shows he’s beginning to see the Tiger as more than just a dangerous beast that lives inside him, but more as a force he can call upon in times of need for strength. He has no reason to believe the Tiger will listen, but he believes in it anyway, knowing it’s powerful enough to defeat the enemy in front of him.

The Tiger itself doesn’t appear in the manga again after this, but this is probably due to the events of Dead Apple. Dead Apple occurs sometime between the Guild Arc the Cannibalism Arc, and it’s the last time we see the Tiger appear in Atsushi’s mind. After defeating the Tiger in the real world, Atsushi can’t use his ability. In his mind, there’s a large door physically preventing him from using his ability, and only after it’s opened and he accepts what he did in the past that was forgotten, is he able to see the Tiger again. He commands the Tiger to return to him, calling it “Byakko”, meaning ‘White Tiger’ in Japanese. After this, they become one, and Atsushi is able to use an even stronger version of his ability during his fight with Shibusawa.

Calling the Tiger ‘Byakko’ is interesting because Byakko is a celestial creature in Japanese folklore that takes the form of a white tiger, and lives in the western sky. It is one of the four beast gods, represents the virtue of righteousness, and is strongly rooted in Taoism.

What’s important here is that after the events of Dead Apple, it seems like Atsushi has finally accepted the Tiger as part of himself.

Lastly, let’s mention the organizations themselves

The ADA

Of course, the Detective Agency offered Atsushi a home and a found family. At the beginning of the story, he felt bad for involving the people there in his battles, feeling guilty for getting others hurt because they had to save him. However, with enough reinforcement from the members, Atsushi developed confidence in himself and his ability to save and protect others. He also developed a level of trust for each of the members, believing they’re all strong in their own right, and together they can beat even the DOA. In chapter 105, Ranpo, Kunikida, and Kyouka appear in Atsushi��s mind and say things that are difficult to hear, but it’s things they would definitely say to Atsushi in a situation like that. Ranpo’s ‘What about this can’t you understand?’, Atsushi is conflicted about what he needs to do, but he does understand that he needs to do something. Kunikida’s ‘Failure is unacceptable.’, Atsushi knows that he can’t afford to fail, but he also knows that he alone can’t win the fights to come. Kyouka’s ‘You don’t have to do anything.’, Atsushi knows this is technically true if he believes he shouldn’t stop the DOA’s plans, but that’s not for him to decide. He chooses to leave the final decision to Fukuzawa, believing he’d know what to do in this situation.

The Port Mafia

This organization is the original enemy, and Atsushi knows this. The only member he truly trusts is Akutagawa. However, from the events in chapter 29 where he sees the PM doing everything in their power to preserve the city, he believes they could be an ally for the ADA in upcoming battles. He might not totally trust them or rely on the PM to be proper allies, but he does know that they’re a powerful organization that cares about the city and is willing to do just about anything to protect it.

The Guild, but mainly Fitzgerald

The Guild was never an option to work with, they presented themselves as an enemy and were defeated in the end. Atsushi would never be willing to work with The Guild as it was during its arc, but Fitzgerald by himself is another story. He has a powerful weapon, the camera network Eyes of God, at his disposal. Atsushi knows that, and given Fitzgerald also has no allies similar to the ADA during the Hunting Dogs arc, Atsushi believes he might be able to convince Fitzgerald to work with him in chapter 63 and 64. He also knows that Fukuzawa would probably scold him for making a deal with Fitzgerald, but he does it anyway after seeing Mitchell in desperate need of help. Fitzgerald appears in chapter 105 to cast doubt upon Atsushi, saying that nobody expects anything from him, but Atsushi knows that that’s not true anymore. The ADA and his friends believe in him, so he must keep moving.

The end.

Those are all the points I had, after rereading the majority of the series to see the development in real time now that I have so much of the story available to read all at once. Atsushi has accepted his ability as a part of himself, not as a dangerous burden for him to carry. Chapter 105 shows that Atsushi’s views of the people in his life have certainly changed and developed over time, but at the same time, it shows how Atsushi sees their influence over him as well. The 3 ADA members are pretty general, saying something you’d expect them to say. Fitzgerald doubts Atsushi by himself, only working with him because he thinks the ADA has the best chance to win. Akutagawa reminds Atsushi that he’s not bound by the past, that he needs to look outside towards the future and towards the end goal. Dazai doesn’t have anything to say, because he doesn’t need to, he merely needs to point Atsushi in the right direction.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd manga #bsd spoilers #bsd manga spoilers #bsd analysis #bsd theories #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #akutagawa ryuunosuke #bsd akutagawa

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