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thefallennightmare · 10 months

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Miracle-epilogue

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: I couldn't stay away from these characters or this universe. I hope you all enjoy! Also, thanks @thescarlettvvitch for the small idea 😉

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh @tearfallpixie @cupidsdreams

MOOD BOARD created by @madomens

The crowd cheered wildly behind me as I scurried in front of the barricade; the camera hanging loosely around my neck. Bryan and I gave each other a high five as we passed each other for me to come to a stop center stage, eyes gazing up at the man in front of me. His eyes shined as he spoke into the microphone, thanking everyone for coming out to another sold out show; the last show of the tour. The last night was always electric, exciting, and from the energy radiating from the crowd behind me, they felt the same.

“We only have a few songs left tonight,” Noah began only to be cut off by a loud ruckus of cheers. “But we can’t thank you all enough for your continue support and love for the last couple years ever since we blew up. We were this small town band from Virgina that moved to Los Angeles with a dream; one that came true.”

Noah’s eyes darted down to me and winked, a warm hue covering my cheeks. “And for some of us, we had a few extra dreams come true.”

With a bashful gaze, I mouthed three simple words up to him.

“I love you.”

The corners of his lips lifted as his eyes now sparkled, blowing me a soft kiss then started into Enough, Enough Now. This tour was all about their older songs, with of course their hits from their current album, but Bad Omens wanted to reinvent their older songs.

I let out a deep breath, stretching out the pain in my back and abdomen before busying myself switching between pictures and videos of all the guys for the next few songs. As I was walking down the steps from Folio’s drum stage, I nearly missed the last step and almost tumbled to the floor until familiar arms wrapped around me.

“Angel,” Noah hissed. “What did I say about walking around on the stage in the dark?”

Thankfully, it was a quick break in between the last two songs as the video intro started for the next one so our conversation was hushed.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him while standing on two feet. “I missed the last step, that’s all.”

His eyes narrowed under the stage lights while I brushed away the hair from his face. He decided on letting his hair grow again and it was almost a comb over across his forehead. He looked ethereal cast in the red stage lights as Jolly started strumming the first few notes of Concrete Jungle.

But I noticed he didn’t move, only continued to stare at me with those intense dark eyes and hands on his hips.

“Noah,” I sighed. “I have to work still.”

“I know, angel. All I’m asking is that you’re careful, alright? I don’t want anything to risk-,” His hands reached for mine and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“I will,” I promised while cupping his cheek. “I’ll be more careful.”

Noah gave me a small smile before laying a gentle kiss on my forehead, something the crowd noticed and cheered loudly. Pushing him back to the center of the stage, I giggled while walking to the side of the stage where I noticed Matt watching with a smirk.

“A bit of a difference from last tour, huh?” He asked while crossing his arms over his chest.

I hummed in agreement and stood next to him, opting to watch the rest of the show instead of take pictures, and thought back to how last tour went. It was about a month after Noah and I got married and I was still apprehensive about letting the fans know about us. We got married pretty soon after our engagement, less than a year, but that was only because we didn’t want to waste another second once Bad Omens finished writing their current record. Noah offered we could get married while they were writing but I declined, telling him he should only focus on one thing. The ceremony was quiet, in a hushed location in Washington, where afterwards Noah and I stayed for a month in the same cabin that he proposed in. We kept the marriage a secret for the first year since Bad Omens were about to go on tour overseas, one I of course followed with. Even though we were married, I continued to work for them as their social media ambassador; until the last few months.

Reading some of the darker side of the comments on posts or online didn’t sit well with me mentally, along with some personal things I was dealing with, so after a deep conversation with Noah, we decided it would be best if I continued taking pictures and videos alongside Bryan but they would have someone else posts and take care of the social media accounts. The entire tour overseas, Noah and I kept our relationship quiet and while he was on stage, we kept it professional, much to his dismay. But he always understood why we needed to keep it that way. We rarely went out in public just the two of us to avoid any untrue rumors and when we went out as a group with everyone, we did our best not to make it seem like we were together.

It was fucking brutal, and we hated every second of it. It was getting in the middle of our marriage and made the first year exhausting and heartbreaking when it should have been filled with love and joy. There was a night where we had an intense argument that Noah went to spend the night at his old place with Jolly and the rest of the guys while I stayed back at the home we were creating for ourselves. I didn’t sleep even for a few minutes that night and neither did Noah because I felt him crawling back into our bed hours later, leaving a soft kiss to my head.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he murmured while brushing away the dried tears from my face.

Now, we were both at a better place, mentally, that I felt comfortable with our marriage being out in the open. If people found out, good for them. It wasn’t because I was ashamed or didn’t want to be seen with Noah. In fact, it was the opposite. I loved Noah with my entire fucking soul. He was the miracle I’d been searching for.

So before this tour began, about four weeks ago on our first anniversary, Noah posted a 24 hour story on his Instagram, with my permission of course.

It was the picture. The one from that first party all those years ago, back during Noah’s long hair era. There were three simply words typed across the picture, ones that started a frenzy.

Happy anniversary, wife.

In return, I posted a picture of Noah and I, one that Bryan took on that one tour so long ago. It was back when we were sort of dating and the night of the storage closet. It was that moment after the show when I was sitting on Noah’s lap, playing with his necklace as he kissed my lips. Unbeknownst to us, Bryan took our picture.

My caption mirrored Noah’s: Happy anniversary, husband.

Matt nudged my arm, bringing me back to the present, and I hummed in response to his words.

“What did you say?”

He snickered while nodding towards Noah, who was giving a bow to the crowd as they cheered for one more song.

“I’m glad you came with. I know last tour was kind of rough for you two.”

I nodded. “Yeah but we worked past those issues. We’re in a good place, finally.”

“Good,” Matt smiled. “Because I don’t know if I could handle crabby Noah for another tour.”

Just as he finished speaking, Noah ran up to me and wrapped me in his arms, breathing in my scent. I giggled while leaving kisses along his shoulder, the salty taste of his sweat bittersweet on my tongue.

“Are you okay?” He asked while pulling away slightly so he could look down at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m fine.”

The rest of the guys bounded up behind Noah as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me into his chest.

“Usual last night tradition?” Noah asked.

My heart rate picked up, and I wrapped myself tighter around him, the nerves beginning to lock me into place. This was something we talked about for awhile now and I knew it was coming, but I was still so nervous to see how everyone would react.

They had the tradition on the last night of the tour to sit in the back of the bus and play Mario Cart until the wee hours of the morning. But this time, Noah and I had a little something extra planned.

Jolly nodded. “Of course.”

“That is if Y/N remembered to bring the game,” Folio gave me shit as we began walking back to the green room.

“Oh my gods,” I groaned. “Yes, I forgot it on the last tour but did you forget how many stores I went to find it? Spent my entire afternoon running around so you idiots could play it.”

Nick chuckled. “Are you going to join us this time?”

Noah squeezed my shoulder, but we both kept a neutral face.

“Nope. It’s your guy’s thing. I already planned on laying in my bunk and reading a book,” I said as we walked into the green room.

“You can, angel,” Noah said as he reluctantly let me go so I could pack up my things.

I smirked at his rouse and threw over one of his sweaters, it almost drowning me in it, and walked up to him leaving a peck on his lips.

“Please tell me you remembered the bag?” I mumbled against his lips.

His hands squeezed my hips. “It’s in your bunk, ready to go.”

I brushed away the sweat matted hair from his forehead so I could look directly into his eyes. I wanted to make sure the both of us were one hundred perfect on board with this decision. Noah was the one that brought up the idea last night and while I was still apprehensive, I agreed. They deserved to know; soon they would have found out if we didn’t say anything.

“You’re sure? What if we have another-.”

Noah wrapped a hand against the side of my neck and lifted my chin with his thumb. “We waited long enough, angel. We’ll be okay, we were before. This time, if it happens, we’ll have the support of everyone.”

Tears burned in my eyes as memories of the past came flooding back, something Noah noticed, because he pulled me into his chest and rubbed soothing circles against my back. His lips brushed along my hairline as his sweet words eased the pain that sat low in my heart. It never went away; it continued to fester there, stabbing the knife deeper and deeper. Especially now.

“It won’t, angel,” Noah reassured me, his own sniffles being muffled by my hair. “This time will be different. It already is.”

I smiled into his shirt when I realized he was right. This time is different, and there was already proof of it.

“Okay so before we start,” Noah spoke as we all lounged in the back area of the bus, it driving us the twelve hour drive back to Los Angeles.

“She forgot the game!” Folio bellowed while sitting up taller on the couch.

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Fuck off, Folio.”

Noah hushed my words with a pat to my knee before he set a small gift bag on the floor in front of both Nick’s and Jolly, who stared at it with a raised brow.

“What is this?” He asked.

“That’s the whole point of a gift. You’re supposed to open it to see,” Noah urged with a nod.

Noah’s knee bounced with anticipation and I rested a hand against his thigh to ease him and he placed his hand over mine to link them together. We shared a loving gaze, one he ended with a wink and smirk as we watched Jolly pull out the first gift.

“Naruto socks?” He asked with a raised brow, confusion etched in his voice.

“Dude, these aren’t even in your size,” Folio snatched them and eyed them. “They look like they could fit a kid.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my smile away.

Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that.”

Nick then pulled out a Bad Omens beanie, bright white letters on the back that only Noah and I could read.

“It’s a new design,” Noah said when they all eyed it with curious eyes. “Its an infant size.”

The three of them shared a quick look before Nick turned over the beanie and his body went stiff when he read the writing on the back.

Sebastian.

With the infant beanie and infant size socks, the wheels were turning for them. But to give them that little of extra help, I held out my phone towards them; the black and white sonogram catching their attention immediately.

“No fucking way,” Nick said.

“You’re not fucking with us, are you?” Jolly asked with a small smile.

“My name is literally right there,” I chukled while showing them the part of the sonogram where it read Y/N Sebastian.

Folio smacked his hands together while letting out a loud yelp of celebration as he all but tackled me deeper onto the couch in a vice like hug. With a fit of giggles, I wrapped my own arms around him.

“Nick! She’s fucking fragile, man,” Noah cursed while pushing him off of me to pull me into his lap, large arms wrapping around me now protectively.

I kissed his forehead. “I’m not made of glass, Noah.”

His face grew stone serious. “Yes, you are.”

My shoulders fell, knowing there was a reason he’d been so protective. Not just tonight but since we found out four months ago. Only this time, we wanted to make sure we made it past this point before telling anyone.

Jolly quickly picked up on the seriousness of our conversation but waited until a round of congratulations and hugs were had before settling back into the couch.

“How far along?” He wondered.

Now sitting curled up against Noah’s warm embrace, I sighed into his chest. “Almost five months.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “How the hell didn’t we notice?”

“She wore baggy clothes. We wanted to make sure-,” Noah’s words trailed off, unable to find the courage to finish.

“Uh,” I began while sitting straight up. “I only have a small bump so it made it easy to hide. But there’s a reason we kept it secret for so long. Before this pregnancy, we suffered through two miscarriages.”

The guys sucked in a breath while Noah stiffened next to me. Even though he was strong during those two dark times in our marriage, I knew he was doing it for me. Deep down, he suffered through those losses on his own and was still dealing with it.

“Shit,” Jolly ran a hand through his hair.

“Please don’t say the typical I’m sorry bullshit. We don’t want to hear that,” I smiled weakly. “It was hard for us but we got through it. We just want to focus on now and what the future holds for this baby. And us.”

Noah rested a hand over my bump, eyes glittering as he stared lovingly at me.

“Oh,” he said while reluctantly looking away from me over towards teh guys. “Don’t go saying shit. If Jesse doesn't find out from me, he’d be so hurt.”

“Rightfully so,” I nodded with a smirk.

That night, the game was forgotten as we all talked about the future of not only Bad Omens but also the future of its newest little member.

A soft knock sounded on the door frame behind me and I looked over my shoulder, giving a small smile to Noah. He was shirtless as he leaned up against the doorframe, eyes tired but bright with so much love and adoration. His usual Levi cut a mess on top of his head. He knew how much I loved that haircut so instead of cutting it when it got too long; he was sporting that look again.

“Why are you awake? You should be sleeping.”

Fuck, his tired voice was so sexy but at almost nine months pregnant, that was the last thing I wanted to think about. I loved my husband and our sex life was amazing but I was miserable the last month, wanting the pains in my back and hips to stop. I reminded him once or twice that he could watch that sex tape we made a few years ago.

“I can’t sleep,” I shrugged from my spot on the floor of the almost ready nursery.

An array of pieces and an instruction manual lay at my feet, something Noah eyed with a brow. “Angel, I told you I’d put the crib together in the morning. You shouldn’t be doing it by yourself.”

He sat on the floor in front of me and reached for my hands, taking away the screwdrivers and set them into the pile of tools.

“I know. I thought I could get a head start on it though,” I began cracking my knuckles.

Noah sighed as he wrapped one large hand over both of my small ones. “I hate when you do that.”

“Sorry,” I looked away from him. “Nervous habit.”

“Are you nervous for Friday?”

I nodded while finally meeting his gaze. “There’s all these risks for C-sections. What if something happens and-.”

Noah hushed my worries with a firm kiss to my lips, his tongue brushing over my bottom lips before exploring every inch of my mouth. I moaned into the kiss and rested my hands against his bare chest, nails scraping along the tattooed skin.

“We’ve already gone over all the risk factors,” Noah sighed while pulling away, resting his forehead against mine. “But it’s the only way, angel.”

With his hand over my large bump, I nodded. “I know.”

We sat like this for a long moment, enjoying the silence and solace of the nursery. It was a simple design, nothing too over the top. But we made it special with pictures of everyone that mattered to us; our family. The center picture was the one of Noah and I from that party; thatpicture.

“Noah?”

My voice broke the silence, and he gave me a small smile. “What is it?”

I blew out a shaky breath. “What if I’m not a good mom? What if I get Alzheimers like my mom did and treat our baby the way she treated me?”

These worries weighed heavy on my mind from the second we found out I was pregnant; this time. The worry if I would be a good enough mother and treat them with love and honesty; not the way my mother did for me.

All these years later after her death and I still couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive her. I might have moved on, but the pain was still buried deep, sometimes clawing its way out. There was also the fear of if I’d get Alzheimers as I got older. Noah always had the same answer; we’ll figure it out if that time comes. Let just focus on the now.

As the tears fell, Noah was quick on my side to pull me into him, us resting against the wall of the nursery.

“You’re going to be a great mom, angel. I already know that because you take care of everyone before yourself. It won’t be hard but I’m going to be with you by your side through it all. Even if you get Alzheimers, I’ll record myself telling you we’re married so you don’t forget me.”

I couldn’t stop the small giggle that fell from my lips and pressed a small kiss to his chest before gazing up at him. “It’s the hormones.”

Bullshit, his eyes shined.

“Come on,” he kissed the side of my head. “This crib isn’t going to put itself together.”

“Angel, sit down. Let me get your water for you,” Noah hissed when he saw me trying to stand from the couch.

“But-,” I spoke.

His eyes pinned me in place as he held my bottle of water in one arm and the small infant in the other. Noah’s hair was a mess and his black shirt had a few spots of spit up but none of that bothered him. Even through exhaustion, he still wore the proudest smile on his face. We returned home from the hospital a few days ago and spent that time just the three of us, finding our ways as a family.

This entire pregnancy was constant fear and worry if we’d lose our baby like we did previously. I still didn’t believe he was real until I held him; Noah’s eyes staring back up at me as our baby's name fell from my lips.

Kenji Noah Sebastian.

“Thank you,” I thanked him with a kiss as Noah handed me my water bottle.

“I love you,” he muttered against them.

“I love you too.”

The noise coming from the kitchen made us raise our brows in confusion.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to let Folio filet a fish in our kitchen?” I asked.

Noah shrugged as he gazed down at our son, a wide smile on his face as he rocked him. “He wants to cook us dinner. Let him.”

Kenji began fussing in Noah’s arms but before I could offer to feed him, Noah shot me another look. “You were up all night with him, angel.”

“Yeah but you’ve been dealing with him all day. Kenji hasn’t stopped fussing.”

Noah brushed a finger along the side of Kenji’s face, his black wedding band catching the light from above. “They have cut you through six layers of skin and had your insides moved around to give birth to our baby. You need to rest, angel.”

With a pouted lip, I held out my arms. “Can I atleast hold him while you make a bottle?”

Once Kenji was in my arms, Noah bent low to leave another kiss on my lips before retreated into the kitchen where he heard Folio and Jesse arguing about something. Tonight, we had a full house of our family who came to visit us and meet Kenji.

Jolly sat down on the couch next to me, finger immediately being grasped my Kenji’s small hand.

“Y/N, your genes didn’t even try. That’s a printed copy of Noah. You just gave birth to Noah,” Jolly smirked while making funny faces down to Kenji.

“Gee thanks, it’s not like I grew him,” I grumbled playfully.

Noah returned and sat on the other side of me, taking a now sleeping Kenji to lay him against his chest, him brushing a gentle kiss across the baby’s forehead. I smiled wide and felt my heart spread warmth all throughout my body at the sight.

Never did I think that when I first started working for Bad Omens that I would be married to the vocalist and have a child with him. Our relationship might not have been perfect in the beginning but through all the hardships of the two miscarriages and all the fights that stemmed from it, we never gave up.

As I brushed through the thick dark locks of Kenji’s hair, a mirror image to Noah, I heard a quiet sniffle next to me and realized Noah was holding back tears. They pooled at the corner of his eyes but refused to let them slip. Always the stoic one but I could see that he was running through so many emotions.

“What are you thinking about?” I questioned.

His bottom lip trembled. “Just everything. How far we’ve come. The Airbnb, the pop up event you put together, our fight where I said hurtful things to you.”

I cupped his cheek. “Please stop beating yourself up about it, Noah. All has been forgiven.”

“But I can't help but wonder what would have happened if you didn’t forgive me. Would we be sitting here together? With our son on my chest?”

Noah placed another tender kiss to Kenji’s head, who stirred in his sleep.

With his free hand, I linked our fingers together my thumb tracing over the faded angel wings tattoo.

“I think we would have found our way back to each other,” I said matter-of-factly.

That made him smile just the tiniest bit but I could tell the darkness that still held tight to him. As he blew out a breath, a few tears fell.

“The fire, I think, haunts me to this day. I know you’ve overcome your nightmares from it but I can't even let a candle burn without thinking of seeing you hang from the house.”

“I didn’t know that,” I breathed, shocked.

While I overcame the trauma from the fire, I didn’t realize Noah was still dealing with it.

“Fuck,” he sighed while running a hand over his face to brush away the tears. “I didn’t mean to get so emotional.”

I brushed away another stray tear with my finger, the wedding band catching the light from above. “It’s the lack of sleep.”

Noah agreed with a chuckle and stared down at Kenji again, who was making soft coos in his sleep. Suddenly a large smile broke out across Noah’s face, instantly brightening up the room.

“All I ever wanted was a family of my own. I made one with my friends, but you, angel,” Noah squeezed my hand. “You gave me something I don’t even have words for.”

“Hey, you helped,” I rested my head against his shoulder.

Noah laid his chin on top of my head, chest shaking with his deep breath, which did nothing to bother the sleeping baby. “But you did everything, you gave my life new meaning. Thank you. You gave me that fucking miracle, angel.”

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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ketterdamskaelishprince · 6 months

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ada's spectre, and why i'll likely always feel sad about it

here is the promised analysis/talk about ada's spectre. going to preface this by saying i obviously don't know the true intent behind everything and her design, i just like to look, giggle and then make sad little observations which just help me love this silly webcomic even more. so if you disagree with me on something– totally ok! i love to learn and i love to see different interpretations.

there's also a few bits i missed out because i wrote this all last night in a bit of a haze, and i cannot be bothered to expand on some of my ideas, especially when it's just stuff like "BROS SO PARANOID AND RAW RIGHT NOW".

anyways, here we go :) @mugcereal this one's for u pookie <3

so i think with ada's spectre, we first need to look at the instance as to how she gets it, because that always makes things way more sad!

to specify, she turns into her spectre at episode 69, and i think it's really sad how she does it. she basically gets a string of roasts from prospero that go along the lines of calling her "conceited" "twadry" and "... and stupid!" – effectively throwing back in ada's face what she believes everyone thinks of her.

(obviously, as a very big and glaring sidenote, i believe prospero is aro/ace or just aromantic so OBVIOUSLY i am not bashing him for this. bros told her so many times that he doesn't want to be with her, let alone to be touched. that is a flaw in ada's character and is a reminder to us on the importance of boundaries!!!!)

so, ada is basically there, collapsed on the floor in a robe– effectively showing the most intimate and private part of herself as an insecure and lonely girl. and that's when she transforms.

i think it's interesting to understand how this most likely links to her life and how she died. so we know she was killed with an axe, most likely by the man she fell in love with and worked for, and how prospero's words in this situation, hurt her just the same as the words before her death. why?

because they remind ada of what she knows and fears she is: just a stupid, fake and cheap person who will never have the same status and respect as the people she pretends to be and surrounds herself by.

i think it's also interesting that she's clutching her stomach/torso here, and correct me if i'm wrong but that could be a potential signal to the part of her that was axed to death (?). no idea if that's a good shout or not but it's what i first thought!

anyways! now we move onto her spectre design!

first of all, her spectre design eats. like just a personal side note, i love it. it's just so gorgeous and i don't care if she's terrifying to some because to ME? to me, she's my gorgeous little pookie who can scream and show people their worst fears and she looks amazing whilst she does it <3

ok anyways, actual design.

to first understand her design, i thought i'd show you what banshee's traditionally in folklore look like!

typically, they are described in two ways. the first way is a youthful women with long black hair, blue eyes and just super pale. this description could also lose the blue eyes and just keep the black hair– either way the first depiction of a banshee is a super young woman.

this is not the one we're focussing on today folks!

we're going to focus on the second depiction. a hag/ old woman, with red cheeks, a grey cloak and a green dress, often seen to be combing her hair. banshee's throughout folklore are known to wail, scream and cry when a family member had died. to most, the banshee was a sign that death was coming to your household and they are known in myths and folklore as a predictor of death.

now, hold onto the green dress and look at ada's design real quick for me.

here we see a lot of green, which yay! definitely shows signs it comes from the second depiction. i think, on top of it being a nod to the second depiction, i think it could also be an allusion to something else: jealousy.

green symbolism in media can often vary, from meaning new life, luck and also jealousy. and i think if we take in the things ada screams whilst in her spectre form, such as this from episode 82:

you see there definitely is some sort of jealousy there, but this isn't something i necessarily want to focus on, it's just an observation i made that may or may not be true!

anyways, to continue, i want to look at ada's outfit when she's a banshee. i'm going to basically be making my notes i took last night look nicer.

(keep in mind that when i wrote these, my ideas were literally bouncing off my brain and sometimes they're a bit contradictory, but i think that's the beauty of my crack theory analysis!)

i think the act of almost showing her bones to the outside, there's a level of rawness to ada we don't usually see. her spectre form essentially gives her the power to scream out her anger, and by seeing her bones it's almost as if to say this is the ada she doesn't show people. this is the ada that she keeps to herself because god forbid anybody love her (because in life and death it's become abundantly apparent to her that nobody does seem to love that ada).

but then, what i thought was also a super cool thing as how the bones almost act like a corset!

then i got sad because i looked at the bows, and because something dawned on me and it made me start to frown. there was a sad realization to me as i looked at ada's spectre design that even in this all powerful form, she hasn't lost her insecurities, they just become more prevellant. because for all of the traditional wrinkles, hag-like appearance a banshee is meant to have, ada barely has any.

obviously this could be in part to character design and stuff, and yeah probably– but let me be sad!

because ada carries her frills and bows from life here because she doesn't want to be ugly, she doesn't want to be this creeping monster who rips apart people. because if she's not got her intelligence or status or anything going for her, she has her appearance and by god she's not going to let that go to waste. so here her spectre form is, a banshee.

so what must ada do? she must takes her frills and keep her insecurities, her fears and her crippling need to be loved.

another aspect which is super interesting is the stitching on her body. one one hand, it could be an allusion to her violent death, suggesting the man she fell in love with didn't just stop at axing her once, but just kept on fucking going (which, you know: fuck you, whoever you are).

but on the other hand, it could be a metaphor for ada's thinly veiled facade she puts on of being a prim and proper lady (which we actually, interestingly enough, see she looses a lot the more time she spends with montresor– opting to take parts of his language like "ain't" and "beggin'". this sort of leads on from previous ideas people have made of ada willing to change herself to be loved. she swaps civility for the wild wild west all for a bit of love).

ada offers up parts of herself in this metaphor. that's what she always does. she offers herself to the rich man she fell in love with, she offers herself up to prospero (again, look at the. side note. bro wasn't wrong for rejecting her he literally can't like her) and she offers herself up to the acolytes and she fucking barks for them (because i'm not over that).

piece by piece, she strips away everything she is until she literally is just skin and bone. and once she's torn herself apart, she needs to stitch herself back together– because it's against the facade she's put on to look so broken and messy. and so she repeats the cycle again, giving more and more until she is literally hanging on by a thread.

her powers are also super cool. traditionally, as i said, banshees wail when a family member is soon to die/has died, and is often like an omen/predictor of death. so yeah, ada having a banshee scream makes sense. but the whole 'fear itself' is also super cool. i kind of like that she has this– because its sort of satisfying for her, the girl who's been pushed over but still comes running back, to watch as people become paralysed with fear. idk, retribution or whatever.

i'm going to leave you with this not very profound thing i wrote last night (and then just some other mumblings):

i think that although spectres are super powerful and also just a very fantastic concept, they're also fragile. spectres are quite literally the monster inside of you. yet here ada's monster is, and with all her bows and revamped dress of a banshee (or potentially an allusion to her life as a maid) she tries desperately to be anything but that. because to here it's ugly and it's too much of her on display. and with some much of you on display comes the very fear that if you are hated, disliked or something repulsive, you no longer have anything to blame on anybody else. you just have yourself to blame.

(as morella says here in episode 88).

i'm not saying ada isn't deeply flawed, because she is. she has so much fucking baggage and insecurities that they literally forbid her from doing the right thing sometimes. i don't think she's a good person, but i also think that she has the opportunity to be a good person/ do a semi-good/ non-bad thing, and all she has to do is take it. but i also think it's nice how that's shown in her spectre design.

and, you know, if none of this makes sense, that's also fine!

anyways, yeah. somebody tell me never to make a random analysis at night again because it's a bit of a bitch to translate in the morning.

#ada nevermore #nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #nevermore #ada #ada nevermore analysis #nevermore character analysis #character analysis #adas spectre #is that even how you spell it #anyways i love her for who she is #my precious little screaming meow meow #LMAO #ok idk what i'm talking about anymore LMOA #forgive if there are typos because at this point i am TOO TIRED to do anything about it

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juvnvalen · 9 months

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If that's okay, can I please have yan Drives III, Tooth Fairy, and Tennant comforting fem reader who had nightmare headcanon

I didn't realise until after i'd written this that this was supposed to be headcanons that is a my bad Does anyone know Tooth Fairy's first name I couldn't find it anywhere (Her last I could) Also is druvis druvis's first name. My bias really shows with this one Characters: Druvis iii, Tooth Fairy, and Tennant. TW: Yandere themes, implied kidnapping, and bitch wife tennant

Druvis was awakened to the sound of your soft whimpers and sniffling, surprised to find you huddled up so close to her. She couldn’t understand what had brought you to tears when she hadn’t even been awake to upset you.

She brought a hand up to pet your head, and you startled at the touch, your head lifting up in alert. The sight of your teary-eyed expression made her squirm nervously, she wasn’t sure what she’d done to upset you this time but she wanted to fix it.

She sat up pulling you along with her, she pressed your head against her chest softly. “What is upsetting you my darling?” Druvis wasn’t quite used to offering so much sympathy, but she’d try her best if it aided in cheering up her dearest.

“I had a bad dream..” Your voice barely came out as more than a whisper, she almost didn’t catch what you’d said. “There is no reason to waste tears on a simple nightmare, hush now.”

Surprisingly her half-hearted attempt at comfort seemed to work well enough, your crying had calmed almost to silence. “It’s still late, let us rest a little longer, doll.”

She settled you back under the covers, shuffling back under them herself. Druvis couldn’t help the gasp of surprise that escaped her as you cuddled back closer to her, she combed her fingers through your hair in reciprocation. Druvis couldn’t stop the smile that found its way to her face, she was overjoyed to be on the receiving end of your willing affection. ♡♡

Ada lightly traced her fingers against your skin as you stirred in your sleep, she withdrew her hand away from you as you stirred awake. Your head shot up in alert, a choked cry escaping your mouth.

Tears welling in your eyes, your attention was drawn to Ada, who watched you with a teasing smirk. You opened your mouth to say something, but only a soft whimper left your lips.

“Something bothering you, my darling?” Ada was pleasantly unsurprised to see you reply to her teasing with a teary-eyed glare. “Aww, don’t be such a pouty girl, sweet thing. Was it a nightmare? Worry not, your noble protector is right here to watch over you.”

By now your tears had dried and your feeling of dread had been replaced by the annoyance Tennant always seemed to provide. “S-shut up, idiot.” You spat, stuffing your face into the pillow. Ada only pulled closer to you, wrapping her arms around you securely to keep you from pulling away.

“Seems I’ve cheered you up! Good on me, the night is still early so let’s get you back to sleep, my lady.” You groaned in response, not that you’d admit it but you appreciated her comforting you. Even if it was in a very characteristically Tennant way. ♡♡

You awoke with a gasp, lifting yourself up to glance around in alert. You looked down to see your darling Tooth Fairy still fast asleep next to you. Tears pricked in your eyes, still shaken from the fright of your nightmare.

Despite your hesitancy you decided to shuffle closer to her, burying your face forcefully in her shoulder. The sudden contact seemed to stir her awake, you felt her arms wrap around your waist to pull you flush against her.

“There, there..” Her voice was still laced with sleep, rough and low. Still half asleep herself, she flopped over onto her back, pulling you with her. She almost had you laid completely on top of her, you nuzzled into her warmth soaking up the comfort she was willing to give.

She hummed softly as she pressed her face against your head, lightly tracing her fingers against the back of your neck. “I love you..” She whispered, her voice muffled as she spoke.

Her breathing had slowed, and her hands had still, obviously fallen back into her rest. You couldn’t help but smile as you nuzzled your face against her.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your words falling on unhearing ears. ♡♡

#writing #tw yandere #reverse 1999 #tooth fairy #reverse 1999 tennant #druvis iii #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 druvis #female yandere

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

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Not What It Looks Like

Rafael Barba x reader x Rita Calhoun Established!Poly!Barhoun Warnings: language, alcohol, smut, threesome, praise kink. Covers a square for @prentiss-theorem bingo! Don't wanna miss any new stuff? Sign up for a taglist here! Like what you're reading? Tip your author here!

Rita knew she was home late, having worked through dinner and then gone for plea agreement drinks with an ADA from White Collar, but she didn’t expect to come home to such a quiet dark apartment. You were a natural night owl, often up into the late hours of the night, the television on a low rumble while you tidied up around the house, caught up on work or binged through something in Rita’s book collection. Even if you were out, she was used to Rafael motoring his way through piles of paperwork at the kitchen island, indulging in a very late dinner or Spanish ramblings coming from the other room as he had his weekly phone call with Lucia. Most days she came home late the two of you were some degree of tangled together on the couch, a glass of scotch in Rafael’s hand while the other scribbled through questioning, simply enjoying each other’s company in mainly silence.

Letting out a soft sigh she slipped out of her blazer, leaving it draped over the back of the couch while her bag was lightly dropped onto the cushions, when she spotted a bottle of wine on the coffee table and that spurred on her taste buds. Wandering back to the kitchen she pulled out a bottle of red, pouring herself a glass, a happy hum escaping her lips as she took the first sip, shoulders relaxing as the stress of the day finally began to wash away. She pulled the clip out of her hair, shaking it loose, fingers combing through the loose curls as she meandered down the hallway. She noticed the door to the home office cracked, a sliver of light coming from within it and her lips curved up into a smile, figuring Rafael was working away inside. Once in the bedroom she took out her earrings, slipping off the rest of her jewelry and placing it into the appropriate spots in the jewelry box. She scooped up the glass of wine, heading back toward the office with the thought of enticing Rafael away from work in favour of a drink and some positive socialization.

When she approached the door she heard a small giggle come from within, your voice murmuring softly along with Rafael’s and her lips curved up into a smirk. She was no longer wondering where you’d ran off to, you no doubt were already trying to drag Rafael out of the office and back to the couch where the half bottle of wine still sat. She pushed the door open and her brow raised at the sight in front of her, Rafael was, of course, sitting behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, shirt unbuttoned, tie and suspenders already gone. It was more you she was amused by, perched in his lap, facing her, your cheeks flushed, lips kiss swollen. Your eyes widened as you noticed her in the doorway and Rafael swore quietly, attempting to catch his breath before you managed to find your voice.

“You wouldn’t by chance believe me if I told you this wasn’t what it looks like?”

Rita chuckled, her eyes darkening as she stepped into the room, “oh really?” She cocked a brow in your direction, “you’re telling me you didn’t come in here all dolled up in a pretty little sundress to taunt Rafael? Get him all hot and bothered, distracted from his work?” She bent down, scooping up your discarded panties from the floor, letting them dangle from her finger as she approached the desk, “I’m so sure you’re intentions were innocent and you had no plans of his cock being buried in that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?”

Now standing in front of the two of you Rita’s free hand pinched at the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose your bare cunt where Rafael’s skin met yours, your juices coating him and your thighs. Rita let your skirt drop, her eyes moving from where you were joined up to your face, a smirk on her lips.

“Always look so beautiful nice and full.” She leant back against the desk, crossing her arms over her chest, looking to Rafael, her head tilting, “well… don’t stop on my accord. Get the poor girl off.”

Rafael’s hands tightened around your waist, leaning back in his chair as his hips rocked up and you began to gently bounce on his cock again.

“Fuck…” You muttered; your eyes fluttering shut for a moment before you felt Rita’s hand cupping at your cheek gently. Her thumb rubbed at your chin affectionately before it traced your lips and you looked up at her, your lips wrapping around her thumb, sucking it into your mouth.

“Good girl.” She praised, pushing the digit deeper into your mouth, “always so skilled with your mouth aren’t you?”

“You know she is.” Rafael grunted, thrusting deeper into you and you let out a low moan.

“Well we should put it to good use then, shouldn’t we?” Rita’s hand disappeared from your mouth, slipping under her skirt to rid herself of her own panties letting them drop to the floor before she bunched up her skirt, settling on top of the desk, her pussy bare and on display as she spread her legs. You let out a louder moan and she chuckled darkly, “is he throbbing inside of you?” Her eyes darted to Raf, “like what you see?”

“Yes...” He groaned back.

“Figured I may as well have some fun too,” her hand stroked at your head, “lean forward darling.”

Rafael shifted, standing from the chair as his hold on your hips tightened, keeping you upright and in the right position as Rita relaxed on the desk and he flattened your back out, watching your hands brace against her thighs. He felt his cock twitch at the eagerness you presented, hands already tracing patterns across her skin, your pussy fluttering around him as he kept a steady deep pace of his thrusts. Rita quickly placed her hands on the desk behind her, supporting her weight as she leant back, feeling your lips press a quick kiss to her inner thigh before you bit into the supple skin and she let out a small hiss.

Your hands curled around her thighs, fingertips soothing back and forth as your surged forward, your tongue wide and flat as you licked her folds from bottom to top, flicking at her clit and she let out a satisfied moan. Behind you Rafael gave a particularly powerful thrust and you whined out, your nose bumping her clit with the forward push. He let out a small chuckle, watching your face bury between her legs as you started to eat her out with expertise, tongue plunging into her, eager to get her juices spread across her cunt and smeared over your lips.

“Fuck darling…” A hand came to tangle into your hair, “that’s it, you know just how I like it.”

“Mmmhmm.” You mumbled into her, sucking her lower lips into your mouth as your tongue probed into her, little whines and moans sending vibrations into her pussy, making her body shiver as Rafael continued to thrust into you. He began alternating pumps, throwing in the occasional swirl of his hips, his cock brushing right against the sensitive spot within you, your fingers clenching harder at Rita’s thighs.

You could feel Rita getting wetter with each ministration of your tongue, her moans getting more and more breathy as you continued. You couldn’t see her, but Rafael could, her head thrown back, her hips rocking toward the edge of the desk in time with your motions, matching the pace he was fucking you. Her sleeveless blouse was riding down as her back arched, the curve of her chest peeking out more each time she took a breath, her chest heaving, a shimmer of sweat breaking out across it.

“God you’re so fucking beautiful like this.” He muttered, a hand spanking gently at your ass before he squeezed the flesh, “both of you. Fuck.” His hips faltered as you clenched around him and he let out a moan, “always take me so well querida, tight little pussy loves this cock, doesn’t it?” His next thrust was more aggressive as he began to pick up the pace a little bit, rocking your body out of line and you surged upwards to not crash directly into Rita.

“Yes! Fuck. God I love it.”

Above you, Rita chuckled, her hand pinching at your chin, “oh darling, you’re always so good for us. You know, we should really stuff you full one night soon. How would you like both of our cocks at the same time? I think you’d rather enjoy that.”

“I would. Please ma’am.” You nodded quickly before ducking between her legs again, eager to show her just how much you would love to be used like a toy between them, even more so than right now.

“That’s my good little princess.” She cooed, letting out a gasp when your lips wrapped around her pulsing clit, sucking the nub into your mouth, “fuck! Oh god… I’m close.. more, darling.”

Hearing her words Rafael picked up his pace once again, hips slapping against your own with each thrust he gave you. You moved one hand from her thigh to her pussy, swiping two fingers through her folds, coating them in her wetness before you plunged them into her cunt.

“Shit!” She swore, her head dropping back once again as your fingers pumped inside her in the same tempo that Rafael’s cock plunged into you. Your fingers twisted, curling as your mouth continued its motions on her clit, tongue flicking across it as you sucked her.

You could feel the coil building deep within you, the fire coursing through your veins at the pleasure both of them were bringing you. You would never say no to being used like this, you would happily eat Rita out for hours on end, you had before and you’d do it again. Usually Rafael would watch from the chair across from the bed, lazily thrusting into his hand until he came across your tits or into your mouth, but having his cock buried in your tight cunt was a whole new level of sensation. You could feel sweat coating your skin and you half wished you’d decided to forgo the dress, being completely bare while the two of them were still dressed would be a different type of pleasure all together. If you’d had any sense in your brain you would’ve tucked the idea away for later but between Rita’s juices and the power of his thrusts you were nearly senseless already.

Rita’s hand tightened in your hair, shoving your face harder into her cunt as your fingers began to curl with each thrust, pushing into her g-spot with each pass. You could feel her squeezing around you, juices practically dripping down your wrist already as her hips continued to rock up towards the touch. Her eyes were tightly squeezed shut, string of swears and throaty moans escaping her lips as her chest heaved, pleasure coursing through her body higher and higher with each thrust of your hand.

“Fuck…” She groaned out and Raf spanked you again.

“So good querida, make her come.”

You crooked your fingers again, this time lingering on the sensitive spot right as you gave a powerful suck to her clit and Rita cried out, her thighs threatening to close around you as her orgasm washed over her, body trembling as she almost lost strength to keep herself upright on the desk. She shuddered as your fingers slipped out of her, your tongue kitten licking at her pussy to clean up the mess you’d made smeared across it and her thighs. You half straightened up, letting out a moan as Rafael plunged into you faster now, one hand still braced on Rita as you caught her eye, sucking your fingers into your mouth and cleaning them of her wetness.

“So good darling.” She panted, her hand caressing at the side of your cheek before her gaze turned to Rafael, “pull her up all the way, she’s almost there.” His hand grabbed at your shoulder, pulling you flush to him and you let out a moan, his cock hitting deeper within you, brushing past your g-spot at a whole new angle.

“Oh god!” You yelped, “Raf.. more… please.”

His free hand wrapped around you, shoving up the skirt of your dress to pinch at your clit, rubbing furiously at it as you clenched down around him your juices dripping down your thighs. You were so close, the fire about to burst from right under your skin when Rita slipped off the desk, quickly fixing her skirt before she tugged down the top of your dress, your tits popping out over the hem. Her hands slid up your body before cupping your chest, rolling your nipples between her thumbs and fingers, a smirk on her lips as you suddenly couldn’t keep your eyes open. The triple sensation was rocking through your body, your eyes clenched shut as you yelped, your pussy pulsing harder and harder, Rafael’s cock throbbed inside you and you were seeing stars. You did your best not to collapse against either of them, trying to stay upright as he fucked harder and faster into you, chasing his own release.

“Shit!” He grunted, “oh god… so fucking wet.” He groaned, his own eyes fluttering shut, “gonna come…”

“Come inside her.” Rita offered with a shrug, “I think you deserve it once in a while.” Her hand pinched at your chin, “think she’d like that. Wouldn’t you?”

You nodded at her, eyes barely breaking open as you panted, letting out a little whine and a moment later you gasped loudly at the feeling of Rafael’s cum painting your walls. He grunted, fucking into you a few more times until he finally stilled, shuddering at the way your cunt was continuing to flutter around him.

“Fuck…” he muttered, hands softly rubbing at your body, his lips coming to meet the soft skin of your neck, “you alright?”

“Mmhm.” You replied breathlessly, turning your head to kiss him softly and his hand smoothed back a piece of your mussed up hair, “more than alright.”

“Seems like I should come home late more often.” Rita teased, pulling a chuckle from both of you, “now how about we get you cleaned up before bed?” Her hand softly pinched at your chin again and you nodded, whimpering as Rafael’s cock slipped from you and you could feel his cum leaking down your legs.

He laughed softly, watching his release for a moment before he swiped some of it up with his fingers, “someone definitely needs a bath.” He smirked before your lips wrapped around his fingers, sucking them clean with a quiet moan.

“Well, there’s a reason we have a three seater jacuzzi tub.” Rita replied with a shrug, a steady arm wrapping around your waist as she pressed a kiss to your temple, a hand squeezing at Rafael before she finally greeted him with a kiss.

Scooping up the abandoned pairs of panties and various drink glasses she guided you from the room, making sure you were on steady legs before she began to run the water into the tub, adding in whatever oils she deemed appropriate. It was in pure satisfied bliss that the three of you finally slipped under the water, letting the last of the day melt away as you truly enjoyed each other’s company as the evening came to a close.

__________________

@svulife-rl @ms-calhoun @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @godard-muse @summergeezburr @daddy-heather-dunbar @kmc1989 @thatesqcrush @plaidbooks @lannister-slings-and-arrows @witches-unruly-heart @swimmingstudentchaos891

#raeswritingbingo #rita calhoun #rafael barba #barhoun #poly!barhoun #rita calhoun x reader x rafael barba #rita calhoun x reader #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit

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wisecrackingeric-2 · 1 year

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SPOILERS FOR SEPERATE WAYS UNDER CUT N O T OPEN IT IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE EM!!!!!!!!

Here’s my little tiny exploration of Luis’ character because it is my god-given duty to pull him apart and analyse him

• Ok so first off………. THE OPENING SCENE??????????? Oh my god there’s S O MUCH TO TALK ABT. Yes Luis dancing is hot as SHIT but also???????? He was about to get TORTURED and MURDERED and he STILL decided to have fun with it and do a lil dance?????? That’s so!!!!!!!!!! He wants to live out his fantasies right until the end!!!!! He truly does think his confidence can get him anywhere!!!!!!! And then when the dance ends he’s READY TO FISTFIGHT THE MONKS?????? NO WEAPONS HES FULLY ABIUT TO GO FISTFIGHT THEM???? He KNOWS it’s a loosing battle but he’s gonna fight tooth and nail to the very end!!!!!!!!!!!

• Also when he turns to face the person who was also dying in the cell and says “this next dance is for you brother” and we get a close up of his face……….. god it hurts to know that that was a person. Somebody who was beautiful in their own right and maybe even somebody who meant something to Luis. Even in the face of death Luis sees the beauty in it ARGHGAGWHSGSB

• Also also I’m sure SOMEBODY could find meaning behind the Flamenco (somebody more knowledgeable in Spanish culture than me) but I’ve heard some people say it symbolises capture and death???? CAPCOM HOW DARE YOU HURT ME SO

• I LOVE that we get to see a more relaxed side of Luis around Ada and less of his flirtiness and damn. It’s so obvious he and Leon are in Love. He’s trying soooooooo hard to impress Leon every time they talk by being super flirty with him and then whenever he’s with Ada he’s a total nerd he’s soooooooooooooo in love w that blonde twink

• GODDAMN THAT FIRE SCENE. WHAT I S N T THERE TO TALK ABOUT??????? First of all the paralells between his childhood where he watched his grandfather die in a fire?????? Also he FULLY RAN INTO A BURNING BUILDING AND ALMOST DIED J U S T TO GET LEON HIS MEDICINE????????????? HE CARES ABOUT LEON SM I WANNA RIP SOMETHING APART. He didint wanna see Leon die in the same way his Grandfather did because he couldn’t save his Grandfather back then!!!!!!!!!!! He wants to make things right!!!!!! HE WAS LITERALLY ON HIS HANDS AND LNEES CRYING I CANT I CANT

• Also ADA CARES ABT LUIS SM,,,,,,,, SHE RAN INRO A BURNING BUILDING TO SAVE HIM AND MAKE SURE HE DIDINT DIE,,,, THE BESTIES EVAH

• godDAMN that scene where Luis heals Ada?????? I LOVE that we see him hesitate for a good solid few seconds on wether or not he should run away from her or stay,,, wether or not he should go back to his usual habits of running away from the people he loves or stay to help,,,, ANS HE STAYS TO HELP BECAUSE HE CARES ABY ADA AND ALSO??? ADA BEING LIKE “leave me here……… besides…… you’ve got a promise to keep……..” OOOOOOOUGGHHH SHE KNOWS,,,, SHE KNOWS HOW MUCH LEON MEANS TO HIM I CANNOG RN also that lil apothecary thing he had was sooooo gender of him

•OH MY GOD HIS DEATH SCENE WHERE HE CALLS HER?????????????? I don’t remember EXACTLY what he said and I’d have to comb through like hours of footage to find it again but,,,,,. THE FACT THAT HE CALLED HER TO SAY GOODBHE????? HE CARES ABOUT HER RIGHT UMTIL THE END?????? AND HE CALLS HIMSELF HER ‘Good Samaritan’ IN THE SAME WAY HE CALLS HIMSELF DON QUIXOTE TO LEON AOAOAISAUJSSOSISKS,,,,,, and then he’s like “sorry I’ve gotta go Leon needs my help ;)” OUGH,,,,, I’m gonna reference another post from my mutual but it’s so sad that Luis got to spend the rest of his life with Leon but not the other way round………………..

• I’m so glad we got to see more of Luis and more of his personality when he’s not tryna swoon the blonde twink he’s in love with BXNSBEHEJXIAIS he feels like such a deep and real human being especially whenever he interacts with Ada and I just,,,,,,,,,, sigh. He’s my favourite character for a reason. 10/10 no notes

• Edit: also the parallels between Luis calling himself Ada’s ‘Good Samaritan’ and Leon his Sancho like AAAAAAAAAA???? You could pick apart the meaning and argue abt how good samaritans are usually friends and Sancho is a code word for Gay Lover in a lot of old fashioned Spanish bars like how ‘friends of Dorothy’ was but ANSNWUENDUNXXUNDDHXN SHUT UP I can’t rn

•Also I’m SURE you could pull some symbolism from the bugs and from Luis having an apothecary as catholic self-exorcism and how ‘science is the roof of all evil’ and Luis is using it to help others etc etc etc……….

Also if anyone else finds anything abt luis lore wise like how you have to find a picture of his grandfather or of him with Umbrella in the original PLEEEEAAAAASSSWE SHOW ME I NEED MORE LUIS BACKSTORY I NEED IT IN MY VEINS

• ALSO ALSO EDIT: the fact that one of the ingredients for his cure are butterfly wings???? And butterflies symbolise CHANGE????? HIS ENTIRE ARC IS ABT CHANCE??????? I’m actually gonna be sick.

#ericswriting #serennedy #luis sera #luis serra

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starlemonbunki · 4 months

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Purpose! AU

Tags: major character death, depressed chuuya, hints of soukoku, hinted dissociative amnesia, decay of angels chuuya, fyodor pretty much wants chuuya to join him lol he's so whipped

I'm planning on drawing for this au too, but the quality of the pictures will be bad if I post them thru my phone. So here's my art account, posted straight from my drawing tablet, it's mostly mha art so far but I'm going to add hints of bsd in there too.

Art acc: @god-shit-girl-art

"Everything you have, and everything you've lost, I'll give it a purpose. Your past, your present, and your future, give it to me. And I will give you purpose."

Chuuya laid achingly amidst the softness around him. Linen sheets and silk pillowcases danced around him on his bed, and yet, he paid them no mind.

A heart can only take so much. But in his case, it seemed as if it had nothing left, nothing to give, nothing to own, nothing to fight for.

It had been 2 months since Dazai mysteriously died. He feels guilty for the fact that he cannot even remember how it happened. The death of his....someone....and his mind couldn't even grant him the decency to remember.

It was like that in cases of trauma. Just like the heart, the mind can only take so much before it breaks. Shattering like a mirror, some pieces will inevitably break apart, never to be seen again.

All he knows is that before he died, however he died, Dazai had used his Ability on Chuuya. And now that he was gone, so was his Ability. Chuuya no longer has the power of gravity manipulation, but for some odd reason, he wasn't mourning over it.

Whether Dazai had left him a note, a phrase, a word, or anything at all, he didn't know. It was all a part of the shattered mirror that was his mind. He couldn't even remember how he died, or if he even left him anything. Part of him wished, prayed, begged for this to all be some sort of scheme, one of Dazai's old tricks. He wasn't dead, no, this is just part of his plan. Somehow, some way he and the ADA will fix this mess, and they'll be together again. Someday, any day now.

....right?

The creak of a large wooden door could be heard from across the room, reminding Chuuya of where he was. He didn't bother getting up, or even looking in its direction. He laid there like a lifeless dog, after losing its owner.

"Nakahara Chuuya," came a voice. Deep and laced with an accent. Chuuya knew who it was, and was half-hoping to hear the sound of an ADA member, telling him to get up and that Dazai needed him for the next phase of his plan.

When Chuuya didn't reply, footsteps answered instead. The sound of hard leather soles against the expensive polished wood, it rang in his ears. He never bothered to really listen to them before.

"I have to admit, it was hard to find you," said the man, tall and slender, his shadow doing justice to his sleek and mysterious nature.

"This penthouse of yours, seems far too big for just one person. However I do believe you'd been visited many a night, correct?"

Asshole.

Did he just call Chuuya a whore?

Perhaps it was the thinly veiled insult, or how Chuuya just realized that a powerful enemy whose strength outweighed his own was now in his bedroom, but the ginger found the strength to sit back up. However slowly and groggily, with his hair a red-orange mess that framed his face and a dress shirt unbuttoned across his chest. His blue eyes seemed more grey, now that Fyodor looks at it. Were they always this dull?

"What do you want you anemic son of a bitch," Chuuya said, it wasn't a question.

Fyodor didn't answer. Instead the two stared at each other, one with eyes posing no threat and one with eyes that couldn't pose any even if it wanted to. In his mind, the Russian compared the man's blue-grey eyes to that of an empty glass. Nothing to give, nothing but potential.

"Dazai's dead." Chuuya said finally. His voice was hoarse and he could taste his thick saliva. How long had it been since he brushed his teeth or combed his hair? Was he wearing the same clothes he did that day 2 months ago? Or was it that night?

"I am aware, yes." Fyodor said, his voice and demeanor unwavering. What did this asshole want?

Chuuya looked down, facing his hands that laid aimlessly on his knees, legs folded, blankets ruffled and forgotten. There were wounds on them. Why were there wounds on them?

"However, I am not here for him."

Chuuya looked back at the dark-haired man, noticing a change in his attire. His coat that had once terrorized countless innocents in its dark tone was now white, with dark feathers around the collar. He could barely see what was inside, though.

"You look unwell." He said.

"Yeah? Great, thanks." Chuuya retorted sarcastically. "That's what I was goin' for, actually."

Fyodor chuckled at his comment, voice deep and alluring.

"You know, Chuuya, a man is only as great as his biggest weakness."

"Fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Fyodor maintained his smile, and began walking to the side of the room slowly, leather shoes rhythmically playing the wooden floor like a piano. Slow and steady, each note just like the last. Like it was leading up to something.

"It's a story of power. Lose and obtain. Give and take. Something must be lost in order for another to be found."

Fyodor took one of the floor-length curtains in one of his pale, slender hands. His illuminating lilac eyes remained focused on the redhead.

"You lost one of your biggest crutches," He said. "And in turn, one of your biggest weaknesses. Ride a bicycle with training wheels, and you'll never truly learn to ride without them."

"Wait a second," Chuuya finally gained the strength to speak again. "Are you talking about Dazai?"

Fyodor nodded, as if he was happy to hear Chuuya was on the right track.

"The man was a necessary loss. The final stepping stone to your metamorphosis. Because of him, and everyone who you've lost before, you now have the choice to become something greater."

"And what's that?" Chuuya scowled. "Another one of your chess pieces? Another pawn to your sick little game? Dazai is dead, you've won. What more could you possibly want from me?"

"Ah, you take the king away," Fyodor said, "but the queen still has all the power."

With that, his hand flew to the side, opening the curtains wide enough to see the world below it, the world outside. Cars and streetlights, people out on the town, the moon shining just as bright as before, as if nothing had changed.

"Even without your Ability, I believe you still have the potential to create more," He said, staring up into the stars.

Chuuya emerged from the darkness of his canopy bed, the first time he stood on his own two feet in ages. He walked to Fyodor's side, entranced by the light of the moon.

"Ah, how fitting for it to be a third quarter tonight." Fyodor said.

"A what?"

"A third quarter. Only half the moon is visible tonight, the other is shadowed in the dark. And yet, it's still just as beautiful, no?"

Fyodor faced Chuuya, albeit having to look down a little bit to look him in the eye.

"Everything you have, and everything you've lost, I'll give it a purpose. Join me, give me your past, your present and your future, trust it with me and I will give you a new purpose."

Fyodor stretched his hand out to Chuuya.

"Together, the moon will shine even brighter than before."

"What do you say, Chuuya Nakahara?"

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witchpassing · 2 months

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an intervention {iii}

{ first | prev }

They barely make it ten.

It’s Laplace’s fault, probably. All that counterscry work should have done something other than what it did, and they should have spotted the raven first, and everyone knows you can’t trust a wizard (root wise-ard, which is to say too fucking clever) behind the wheel of a car.

Laplace’s fault or Harrier’s fault or hers, it doesn’t really matter now. The car is rolled into the ditch, a burning carcass, great rolling plumes of gold and red eating at the night. Laplace has fled down the road, melted into darkness; Exit Sorceror, stage left. Mairead, if she lives, does not expect to see them again. Harrier lies in the heather, firelight glimmering in the blood on her forehead.

The shadows roil. Hot metal ticks and groans. There should be a reek, burning oil and molten tyre, all the evil fume of a fresh-killed car, but instead Mairead smells only sweetness. Like honey, or rich incense.

The Witch of Midnight’s Gyre is here.

Ada is pooled at the apparition’s feet, fingers knotted in the skirt of a gown blacker than night, a gloved hand sunk deep into her hair. There is an expression on her upturned face that Mairead has never seen before.

“Ada,” Mairead begins, picking herself out of the road, and the eye beneath the hat-brim falls upon her.

There is a sensation of going at the seams, of being turned open, shucked. Hands of cold and massless shadow thumb her skull inside-out and comb through its contents and she does not know how to even begin to resist, does not know no, stop in this language of thought-as-action. (Once her mother taught her to devein prawn. It was a little like this.)

She can hear Chrysanthe talking, very faintly, very far away. It is hanging on the terrible presence’s arm like a skittish prom-date, pleading in its gentle, unobtrusive voice for Mairead not to be hurt. The witch stoops a moment, touches her lips to the porcelain brow, assures in a velvet murmur that she is not hurting her friend at all, simply correcting something. The doll nods and clings a little closer, watching Mairead with tender worry in its unblinking eyes.

And indeed, it does not hurt. When Mairead is decanted back into herself, the place where she used to know Chrysanthe’s name is a smooth and gentle hollow, like the socket of a tooth pulled years ago.

The heather rustles. Chrysanthe is crouching beside her. No, not Chrysanthe, not its name, not an it–

“Shh,” it murmurs. “Easy now.” Cool fingers card through Mairead’s sweat-tangled hair. In the corner of her awareness there stands the witch, permitting. “It’s okay, Maisie. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“It’s ffucking not,” Mairead slurs, hating herself for the sob that comes with it, but Chrysanthe is still talking.

“Let it explain this time, please. It’s important.” Mairead quiets, but only because it doesn’t matter what she says any more.

“You believe that it did not want… this.” Chrysanthe makes an all-encompassing little gesture. Itself; the abhuman body with its clicky-clacky joints, the eyes like still pools, the dress which, though flatteringly cut and prettily adorned, is unmistakably a servant’s. “Yes?”

Mairead nods mutely.

“Yes. Or rather - you believe that it could not want this. Because, how could anyone? How could your Ada? She was so strong, and so wonderful, and you loved her so much.” The bitter note in its smile - that is intimately familiar, like an old scar.

“But only this one can know what your Ada desired, or why. Only this one and its Mistress can know the circumstances under which she was remade, whether it was forced upon her, begged for, a cruel trick…” Wind stirs the heather. A little of Chrysanthe’s hair drifts into its face, fine as spider-silk, and it pauses to tuck it behind its ear. This gesture, too, is torture by familiarity. “And you’ll never touch the truth of it, Maisie, because you can’t believe in either of us. The witch is your enemy, the monster who took your wife and broke her spirit, and the doll… well, dolls can be made to say anything, can’t they.

“And so you will believe what suits you best. You will live your whole life, quite probably, believing that you and Harry and your friend in the big coat were doing something kind, and that it was very sad you failed. You will know best, forever.”

Chrysanthe stands, dusts off its earth-stained skirts, and lets go a deep breath. It nods to the witch, who steps from background to foreground without effort, like a figure in a dream. Mairead recoils, instinctively, like a dog kicked once and expecting another. But nothing happens. The witch simply puts her arm around Chrysanthe’s shoulders. It leans deep into her, weight more off its feet than on them, head laid against the sabled shoulder, hers.

This is the witch’s revenge, Mairead understands, but not in full. This is the first hour of it, and it will continue until she dies.

“I am going home now,” Chrysanthe says. “Goodbye, Maisie.”

“Wait! Wait, wait, please, wait-” Mairead lurches forward, reaching, but the distance, nightmarish, refuses to close. “Chrysanthe - please - We’ll see each other again - won’t we?”

In the last moment before the shadow of the witch’s cloak folds her away, Chrysanthe smiles, beatific.

“No.”

#original fiction #empty spaces #dollposting #this one's writing

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taradiddled · 17 days

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@inubaki isn't feeling well. and I think @lilacwriter07 could use a pep-up, so I'm putting here another sneak-peek at the chapter I'm working on.

"Only a neglectful shepherd would leave their sheep's hooves unattended." She picked up her scrub brush again and began layering the hoof in soapy foam. "They need routine cleaning, because who the fuck knows what shit they pick up on a regular basis. I had one sheep that must have been not right in the head, because it used to stand in its own shit, totally oblivious to how filthy it'd get. Needed a cleaning twice a week, or else its wool would stink. I thought I'd have to put up with it for maybe eight or nine years, since it was so dumb, but the bastard managed to live to eighteen years before it croaked."

Lucifer snickered, amused at the mental image given. "I can't imagine you putting up with that for more than eight years."

"Well, I did," Adam stated proudly, her chest puffing up just a bit with pride. "It was under my care, and my protection. Just because it wasn't too damn bright didn't mean I was going to mark it for meat. Not when its wool was some of the softest I'd felt, and it was especially patient with the grandkids when they wanted to play." It'd almost been like having another nanny available, when the children's parents were busy with their own business of foraging and hunting to support their families. Though Adam had bemoaned caring for the sheep, she'd actually cared for it in her own way, and mourned the creature when it eventually passed away.

"What was its name," Lucifer asked, genuinely curious.

"Birn," Adam replied. "Birn the Burr." She finally finished cleaning Lucifer's hoof to her satisfaction. "Because of all the damn times I had to comb so much crap out of its wool." The first comb ever had been invented purely because of Birn. It'd been the size of Adam's hand, with four thick teeth, able to sort through Birn's thick-thick wool to pull out all the foliage Birn managed to pick up in a week's time. It'd been one of Eve's best inventions, and had saved Adam's fingers further abuse from the sharp twigs and tree needles that would get stuck in Birn's wool. How the beast had managed to collect so much debris in the pastures, Adam and Eve had never uncovered.

"You're good now," Adam proclaimed, setting Lucifer's hoof back into the water. "Your hooves could use a little trimming, but it's nothing urgent. Maybe in a week's time you'll need to give it some actual attention." With the task of cleaning Lucifer's hooves done, Adam turned to cleaning herself, tossing out the washrag she'd been using for a clean one.

While Adam started lathering up with some soap, Lucifer examined his hooves, blonde brows arching as he looked in awe at the difference made. "This looks better than when I use magic," he said, rotating one hoof so he could admire its underside. "Feels better, too. Yowza. You've got magic hands there, my Pretty Prickly Mistress!"

Adam scoffed at the syrupy sweet praise, rolling her eyes. "You said the same thing about me handling your balls a couple nights ago, Your Majesty." Still, it was nice to be appreciated. She brushed her foot against Lucifer's thigh beneath the water, lips curling with a naughty smile as she observed Lucifer's cheeks color that tangerine hue Adam knew so well.

Lucifer gulped, eyes going down to where Adam's foot was sliding up and down the inside of Lucifer's thigh beneath the water. "Wellllllllllll," he stretched out, voice taking on a higher pitch when Adam's toes found Lucifer's cock. "It's good manners to give credit where credit is due--oh!" He gasped when Adam's big toe rubbed against the tip of his dick. A pant rose from the king's throat. "Ada, as much as I would love to fuck around some more, we still have breakfast to get to, and that call we promised to make to Charlie."

Adam hummed, cocking her head to the side, making a face of consideration, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, weighing her options, before she retracted her foot from its fondling between Lucifer's legs. As much as her ramped libido desired another go around, there were things that needed doing, and Adam remembered that the new Soul Counter was long overdue. She needed to check in with Charlie about her progress with her research, and start pulling together information so that they could start something substantial.

It's been over a month since we started, Adam reminded herself. If I keep lazing around, this shit won't get done until after Oz is born. And she'd be too occupied with her newborn baby and Lucifer to put any extra energy into starting up the Soul Counter.

With a sigh of reluctance, Adam resumed her scrubbing, washing away any sticky residue from her and Lucifer's earlier activities. "Sucks to suck," she grumbled, "Buuuuuuuuuuut you're right." She then threw the washrag at Lucifer's chest, the King of Hell just catching it. "We have work to do," Adam agreed, turning around so her back was to Lucifer. "So wash up my back quick, will you, goony? You're the one who wanted to finish on my back, anyways..."

"Orrrrrrrr," Lucifer started, wading his way over to Adam, seating him right at her back, "You could just ask nicely, like a normal person." Nonetheless, he began to tend to Adam's back, wiping away at the skin in careful, gentle circles. It was a relaxing experience, and Adam found herself leaning back into Lucifer's care, releasing an audible sigh of contentment, as well as a chuckle at Lucifer's suggestion.

"And why should the great Dick-Master of Humanity have to ask to get her back washed?" She looked back at Lucifer over her shoulder, grinning with ego she felt was rightly earned. "Especially from the devil whose dick the Dick-Master conquered."

Lucifer paused in his ministrations. With great amusement, he chuckled. "Is that what we're going to call me knocking you up from now on?" He resumed washing Adam's back. "Would make a far more interesting story: the naughty devil who met his comeuppance, ahem, literally, when his dastardly dick was valiantly, valiantly, conquered by the heroic Dick-Master?" He and Adam both laughed at how ridiculous the tale sounded aloud.

Adam's smile was rueful, and she shrugged her shoulders. "Hey," she humored. "You fucked it."

"And I will gladly do so, again aaaaaand again," Lucifer hummed with a melodic note.

#from adam to ada

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mistressoftheelderitchwhorehouse · 2 years

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Dazai and Affection: ADA Days

I don't think, in a genuine relationship, he is what you would consider an affectionate man. Not in the give you a dozen roses outside White Day or any other "expected" day sorta guy.

I think the things he does is small, and may not even be recognizable as affection. In fact, you may even call them Dazai-isms.

The fact he will stay in the same house as you after sex if you don't live together is a big one. If you get up to clean up, he may follow you and watch. Not touching you or anything, but just being close. If you go to sleep he may hang out in the bed for awhile, either napping or reading depending on how fucked his sleep schedule is.

He combed a hand through his hair as he watched you clean the cuts he had made. When you hissed from a particularly deep cut, he hummed and leaned closer to examine the mark.

"Notes for next time?"

"Yeah, I think so." You said, voice shaking.

Dazai will grab paperwork off a table, a cup off a desk, etc. if he's headed in the same direction. He's using energy for something, and doesn't mind extending a bit more of that energy for you as well since it's something he's doing already.

"Done with that already? Didn't you just get it?"

You looked up from your coffee mug with a tired expression. "It is 6 AM. How are you chipper?"

"That's easy!" He took the mug and cradled it next to his own. "I didn't sleep."

"Um..."

"I'll get us more coffee!"

This one may seem odd, but he will regularly lock the door behind him when he enters your house. He wants you to be safe, and he knows that Yokohama can be unsafe. It's basic, terribly small, but it is still a safety measure for you, his precious Belladonna.

You looked up from your laptop when you heard the knock at the door. With a groan you pulled yourself off the couch, and pulled the door open, just to find Dazai on the other side.

"Well hello there." He gave a charming smile. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Oh, the sweet talking. Lemme guess, you want to fuck tonight."

"What are you talking about? I'm telling the truth." He walked into the house and when you shut the door he locks it. "Though, I won't say no if you're offering."

#character analysis #bungou stray dogs #dazai imagines #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai smut #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai bsd

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cobwebcorner · 1 year

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Hey there, are you new to the Resident Evil fandom and want to know more about this weird blond guy with the sunglasses? Maybe you only play Dead by Daylight and want to know what his deal is without having to comb through a 20+ game series for his appearances? Are you trying to write a fanfic and can't think of anything for him to say, outside of constantly proclaiming his right to godhood?

Then have I got the resources for you!

(don't trust the fan wikis. They do things like claim that a man with one of the most Irish surnames in the world is Italian, just because his parents have some implied organized crime connections)

Ok now that you're in here I will reveal that the real purpose of this post is to spread the good word of original flavor Wesker, who I think is a really interesting villain with more complexity than people might expect. It doesn't look like Capcom is ever going to remake code veronica, which has a significant portion of his story, and there's a ton of his lore locked in a rail shooter most people never played, so I'm here to help fill in some knowledge gaps.

To start off, here is Wesker's Report 1. This is Wesker himself summing up the first 3 games for you, with glorious footage of the original playstation graphics:

youtube

Don't panic it's actually only 22 minutes long, the rest is an untranslated interview with the game directors.

Bam boom, you know what Wesker was doing from 1998 through 2000. Now let's step back in time a little and talk RE 0, the prequel game that explains how the outbreak that started it all happened in the first place. This is the story of Wesker and his buddy Birkin's past mistakes coming back to haunt them with a zombie-leech army (the past mistake in this case is disposing of your mentor's body improperly):

youtube

Stepping even further back in time we have Wesker's Report 2, which talks about his early years at Umbrella. This was only ever released in Japan, but fans have done a translation and gotten it voice-acted. This video has both the report and a compilation of all Wesker's scenarios in Umbrella Chronicles (the rail shooter this-is-the-story-so-far game):

youtube

It's long because it includes the gameplay footage. If you just want to read the report instead, google project umbrella Wesker's Report 2. You can also find UC's cutscenes separately on youtube. Wesker's scenarios are Beginnings, Rebirth, and Dark Legacy. UC condensed a lot of stuff and made some…odd story changes (especially to RE 3. Poor, poor RE 3), but it also added fun new stuff for Wesker to do, like beating up his creepy masochistic ex-boss. Godspeed, Wesker.

Now rumor has it that we are going to get Ada's campaign added to RE 4 remake eventually, but we don't have it yet, so until then here's their interactions from the original (lovingly updated to HD by fans):

youtube

RE 5 was Wesker's last (chronologically) and probably most significant appearance in the series, not to mention the version of him that's been everywhere since, but I'm not actually going to talk about him. To my eyes, RE 5 Wesker is a fun villain in his own right, he just isn't Wesker. He feels like a completely different character to me. If you've watched these videos you might have noticed this already.

RE 5, if you wish to give the writers the benefit of the doubt, is a story of Wesker having a complete mental breakdown after finding out certain retcons truths about his past. He's not usually like that. For one thing, count how many times he mentions being a god in any of this footage. Go on. I'll wait.

Classic flavor Wesker is calm, cold, and calculating. He loves pitting enemies against each other and then running off with the spoils. He does very little grandstanding and he's not all that hammy (campy? definitely, but not hammy. there's a difference). He's pragmatic to a fault, and a master at shifting his plans around to work on the fly. He also doesn't give a flying fuck about eugenics, or "saving the world", he's in it for power and money and building better monsters just because he can. There. I said it. I feel better for it.

#resident evil #albert wesker #I also want to note that the bit about Wesker having Sherry has since been retconned #lore dump

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imagineanime2022 · 2 years

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Dazai With A 15yr Old!Reader Like Him

Dazai Osamu X Fem!Reader

Requested: Anon

Request: Hello! I was wandering if you could write either headcannons or drabble which ever you see fits better of Dazai with a 15 gn reader who reminds him of himself when he was 15.

🩹 He remembered the first time that he saw you, he froze for a second before his teasing behaviour came back. What surprised him was you teasing back, you were quick witted fast and no one escaped your perception. 🩹 Kunikida tried sneaking up on you and you flipped him over your shoulder, which he laughed at before inviting you back to the ADA. 🩹 You were in a much better place than he was when he was 15 having been taken in by the ADA instead of the port mafia. 🩹 You didn’t actively look for ways to die but you were still in harm's way more than anyone would like given your age, you were one of the youngest members. 🩹 The first time he met you he called you cute, he’s never regretted a decision more. 🩹 If there was a fight he could be sure that he’d find you in the centre protecting people, you valued other people’s lives over yours, so Dazai would often look out for you considering he cares very little for his life as well. 🩹 When you both ended up on a mission together, it was carnage, the mission would be completed but the property damage and loss of life that followed you both was a topic of discussion the moment you left the office. 🩹 Dazai trusts your judgement, he knows that you're smart and if you do something he knows that there’s a reason, he is unlikely to question you unless he thinks that it’ll put you in a better position. 🩹 He loves that you give Chuya PTSD flashbacks to when they were partners, the first time that he saw you he honestly reverted back to the days when he used to deal with Dazai and hated that you often answered the same way that he used to. 🩹 Dazai doesn’t like when you're sent out without him because he knows that you are likely to sacrifice yourself for someone else. 🩹 Dazai will try and steer you in a different direction than the one that he had taken, you were his chance to do as Oda had asked of him. 🩹 In the times that he can see you falling to the darker side of your mind he’ll step in, take the kill from you or brighten your day with some kind of joke just to make you feel better. “Let’s get out of here kid.” “I’m not done yet.” “Yes you are.” 🩹 He’d often ruffle your hair all the time. 🩹 Slips trackers into your pockets all the time and then spends the rest of his day watching what you are doing and stepping in where he needs to. 🩹 He’s always honest with you, he knows that you're smart enough to see through any lie that he told you and he knew that it wouldn’t be easy to earn that trust back after. 🩹 Never sugar coats anything. People listening to your conversations often flinch when either of you talk. 🩹 He’s probably the only one that can figure out how you're feeling and act accordingly. 🩹 The only time that people see him serious is if you're ever kidnapped, especially if it’s the mafia, he knows how combative he can be when he’s kidnapped and the only reason he’s still alive is because they know him. They don’t know you, they’ll kill you so he’ll always cut the time limit Ranpo gives in half and work by that. 🩹 “You hurt?” “No.” 🩹 You're literally bleeding out while telling him that you aren’t hurt, he’s always the one that convinces you to go see the doc. 🩹 He’s not above flinging you over his shoulder and carrying you there himself. 🩹 He’s the only person brave enough to train with you “Fight like you want to kill me, you’ll be trying to kill them.” 🩹 Dazai cares for you more than he cared for anyone else since the mafia and he honestly he’d only consider you a success if you had all of his skill with will to live.

Request Here!!

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs oneshot #bungo stray dogs imagine #bungo stray dogs #osamu dazai #osamu dazai oneshot #osamu dazai imagine #imagine #oneshot #x reader #reader insert

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abarbaricyalp · 1 year

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Tell It to the Bees (and the birds)

Hi all! This is my beekeeper!Bucky birdkeeper!Sam meet ugly neighbors au. I am so enamored of this little story and I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it! There's a second snippet here as well

The way onto the roof was extremely inaccessible. Bucky was only missing an arm and could barely manage it, much less if someone was in a wheelchair or had muscle issues. Apparently the building had once housed families and, back before ADA laws, the building manager had decided cordoning off access to the roof was safer than trusting kids not to go up to it. So, every few days, Bucky had to clamber his way into a discharge closet that was barely wide enough for his shoulders, climb up a ladder he swore inclined past a 90 degree angle, shove open a hatch door that weighed more than a small child, and then lift himself onto the roof. He hadn’t figured out how to manage it without his prosthetic arm on and he was about two more attempts away from suing for access. The only thing stopping him was that he didn’t know how much weight the “Roof Access Strictly Prohibited” sign actually had.

But it was all worth it once Bucky got outside. He was not the first tenant to utilize the roof. In fact, he’d inherited his current raison du climb from one of his neighbors after he found her hard at work on it one day. When she left to move in with one of her children, she left it to Bucky to maintain.

“Guys, you will not believe what Leo said at group today,” he greeted as he walked across the roof. In the middle of the roof, far enough away from the HVAC vents and under a shade tarp that had seen better days and less extreme summers and winters, a small wooden beehive waited for him. The bees were always buzzing, but Bucky liked to think they got louder when they heard his voice.

“He clearly focused all of the topics on me and made sure to get a dig in about how group can’t help if not everyone wanted to be a group. That’s ridiculous, right? I mean, I totally consider myself part of the group. Just because I don’t talk doesn’t mean I’m not present.”

He sat down in the small wooden slatted chair that was half as comfortable as it should be but leagues above the metal folding chair. Especially in the summer. The hive was, apparently, typical sized: three boxes tall and Bucky was only allowed to mess with one of them, the honey super, it was called. One was for the bees themselves and the other was for the eggs and maturation of new bees. Each box had a glass fronting, so he got to see inside sometimes, depending on how they built the combs that year. It also probably meant that someone smarter than him could guess how many bees were in it at which point of the year, but Bucky hadn’t gotten around to memorizing all the facts and figures yet. Melinda had taught him everything about caring for them–“We maintain them, we don’t keep them”–but what Bucky knew, he knew by muscle memory, not logical thought. Now, they were just coming out of their winter easement and the lower box was full of eggs and pupae.

Mostly what Bucky and Melinda used it for–other than an ever full donation crate of honey and beeswax–was less the maintaining of the bees and more the telling of the bees. The first time Bucky had come up to the roof–after ignoring many dubious signs–was a day where he just needed to find some quiet from the noise in his head. What he found was an older woman speaking in soft dulcet tones about what fools her children were. When Bucky tracked her voice down, he found her talking to a very large beehive. And that was that. He was hooked.

Bucky had been in a dozen kinds of therapies since he’d gotten medically discharged from the army, but nothing felt the same as talking to the bees. Nothing felt as real or as safe as this.

The bees didn’t argue with him. They never did. A few flew out to greet him, buzzed around his head until they were sure he only smelt like a flower but wasn’t one. He waited patiently to pass muster before he pulled a small water bottle from his bag and poured some into his palm. It was Melinda’s sugar water concoction and the bees loved it. He wasn’t supposed to give it to them too often. He tried to limit himself to once a week. But the bees got so excited over it and he loved the way they felt walking over his hand.

A few bees had braved him to come crawl over his palm and drink the sugar and Bucky was just beginning to relax into this lovely moment when a massive hawk suddenly dove at them. Bucky made an unbecomingly high pitched screech and went sprawling backwards in the chair. The bird squawked back and startled into the air. The bees droned a frenzied buzz and disappeared.

From flat on his back, Bucky stared into the sky and wondered what the hell had just happened. His shoulder ached from where his prosthesis had jared into the skin and the air was failing to come back into his lungs. Also, he was having entirely too vivid day-terrors of his eyes being plucked out by a razor sharp beak.

The hawk circled around in the air some twenty feet higher and then swooped a little closer and glided around the HVAC system to the far side of the roof. Bucky kicked himself free of the chair and checked to make sure there were no wounded bees on the ground around him before following the bird.

Since Melinda had left, Bucky had rarely seen anyone, or anything, else up on the roof. Occasionally someone braved the absurd ladder and door, usually young people with friends, but it had been pretty quiet for the most part. So he was more than surprised to come around the HVAC to find an entire bird coop constructed and well maintained.

Granted, it had been a while since Bucky had explored other parts of the roof. It was a large complex and the roof was littered with curbs and dips and trash, so it was safer to just sit next to his bees and then go back inside. But he was certain there had been no bird coop on the roof at any point recently.

Casting a glance around before he could give further fodder to his neighbors that he was a few crayons short of a box, he leaned forward and smelled the wood of the coop. Like he expected, it was fresh. So who the hell had been up here? And how hadn’t Bucky noticed? How hadn’t the bees noticed? They hadn’t expressed any agitation.

Within the coop, a variety of birds cooed at him and shuffled around with a scraping of talons and ruffling of feathers. It was mostly pigeons but there were a few crows, a few colorful birds, a few finches. The hawk that had swooped down at Bucky was sitting outside of the coop, on a fake branch. It stared at him in an entirely too judgemental way. When it tilted its head at Bucky, Bucky tilted his back. The bird ruffled its feathers and turned around on the branch. Bucky turned around too.

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #onlysambucky

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elderberries-and-honey · 7 months

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Hello! As I explained in this post here, I am discontinuing the prequel series for a number of reasons. The main one simply being I lost the muse for it.

I do want to make it clear that reading the prequel isn't totally necessary to understand what's going on. However, there are some important pieces of information that I wanted to be able to explain and provide insight on and I'll be doing that in a summary.

If you're a new reader who's finding this later down the road, or you missed those posts, you can still view them under this tag here but they will be removed from the main story.

This summary is taken directly from my "cliffnotes" so to speak but it is implied that after this scene, this is all the information that Winifred provided to Lawrence on their boat ride from Ireland to Wales.

Without further ado, here it is in all it's unfinished glory below the cut.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋 (𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬)

Winter, 1867

⋆ ˚｡ We are introduced to Winifred's mother, Alice Bloomsburg, who is out at a Christmas festival in London with her governess, Beatrice Brown, whom she considers a friend but also annoying chaperone.

⋆ ˚｡ Later in the evening, we see that Alice and Beatrice have missed their train back to Westminster and take shelter from the snow storm inside a pub. Here, Alice meets a man who introduces himself as Victor Calhoun, who is to become Winifred's father.

Spring, 1868

⋆ ˚｡ A few months have passed since the festival and it's implied that Alice & Victor are still seeing each other in secret. While helping her comb through her hair, Alice visibly has something on her mind and Beatrice mentions not having seen her at breakfast.

⋆ ˚｡ Alice makes a comment about feeling as though she has no say over her life or what is to become of it, to which Beatrice delivers the line, "seldom is life fair for women anywhere".

⋆ ˚｡ Alice, her mother, Ada, and Beatrice are off at a fitting for Alice's debutante ball. During the fitting, Ada makes a comment about Alice's weight & this causes Alice to make a snide comment to the seamstress about her mother not caring about her or her feelings. When Ada dismisses everyone except Alice and now in private, she clues her in on the fact that she knows what she's been up to behind her back and her family will not tolerate such a scandal. Ada instructs Alice to "get rid of it", implying she knows that Alice is pregnant.

Summer, 1868

⋆ ˚｡ Alice has since run away from home to live her life with Victor. We see that Victor has his own estate but overtime, it's implied that he is close to financial ruin after a few risky business investments and if he continues to lose money, he will live a life of poverty by the end of the decade.

⋆ ˚｡ Victor begins working "away from home" a lot and Alice overhears a conversation late at night from the servants quarters discussing if "she" (meaning Alice) suspects he's seeing other women behind her back. One of them implies that his only interest in her was monetary and was not out of love at all.

⋆ ˚｡ While in bed one night, after thinking about what she overheard, Alice asks Victor why he hasn't proposed yet to which Victor says he's waiting 'for the right time'. Unsatisfied with his answer, she begins following him in secret when he's away from home, and she finds out that he has been committing acts of infidelity behind her back.

Winter, 1869

⋆ ˚｡ Alice makes her way back to the Bloomsburg Estate where she finds her mother has gone out for the evening. Instead, she encounters her father, Herbert, her brother, Tommy, and Beatrice. They inform her that even though it's against their wishes they can't allow her to come back home. Alice is in shambles, devastated and very pregnant by this point (about a month away from her due date).

⋆ ˚｡ Beatrice tells Alice to travel to BLANK, an English countryside village, and find her old classmate Mrs. Antilly who she promises will take care of her during the birthing process.

⋆ ˚｡ Alice finds Mrs. Antilly who hides her away in an old barn where Alice gives birth to Winifred on February 13th, 1869.

⋆ ˚｡ After Winifred is born, Alice takes her newborn baby and moves into a workhouse in Whitechapel. It's here that we see her abandon the last name Bloomsburg, instead giving the last name, Monet.

Autumn, 1877

⋆ ˚｡ Winifred is now eight years old and she and Alice are still living in the workhouse. Alice is gone for long hours out of the day working while Winifred helps out in the kitchen with the other children. It's clear the other children don't take to Winifred very kindly and she is a 'misfit' of sorts. At least until she meets her best friend, Millie Thomas.

⋆ ˚｡ We follow Alice to work. She is dressed in quite provocative clothing indicating she has become a prostitute in order to be able to provide for herself and her daughter. We see that a frequent customer has figured out Alice's real identity and blackmails her with the information. Forced to protect herself and her daughter, she must leave Winifred at the workhouse and go live with the man.

⋆ ˚｡ Alice informs Winifred that she must leave her but not without a proper goodbye. She gifts her a kitten, Honey, who quickly becomes Winifred's companion and matching necklaces. She promises that even if she can't write back that she will read every letter Winifred sends.

Summer, 1882

⋆ ˚｡ Now at thirteen, Winifred has taken to working in the hot kitchen full-time, and has dreams of becoming a published author one day. Despite how "mature" she is for her age, Millie's mother looks after as much as she can and Millie & Winifred are still thick as thieves.

Winter, 1885

⋆ ˚｡ Winifred and Millie are lounging around the workhouse one day, discussing what they want for their future and if they think they'll ever get married someday. Winifred tells Millie she isn't sure she ever wants to and she and Millie exchange dialogue about how strange it would be to even kiss a boy much less marry one.

⋆ ˚｡ A little timid, Millie asks Winifred if they should practice kissing with each other so that they'll be ready if they change their minds. The girls exchange an innocent kiss on the hardwood floor of the workhouse and giggle afterwards. However, the kiss means something very different to Millie than it does to Winifred.

Spring, 1889

⋆ ˚｡ Winifred has now moved into her own apartment in a less poverty stricken part of London. She seems to be doing quite well and has even gotten a second cat to celebrate who she named Thistle.

⋆ ˚｡ Winifred and Lawrence meet at a local tailor's shop and the two seem smitten by each other immediately. They begin writing each other letters back and forth and soon, Lawrence asks her on a proper date.

⋆ ˚｡ Millie is helping Winifred get ready for her date with Lawrence, brushing her hair and helping her tie her corset. While she reaches the last hole in the corset, Millie leans forward and kisses Winifred's neck, to which Winifred tells her to stop. Millie, uncomfortable and embarrassed, apologizes and says she's always loved Winifred. Winifred tries to explain gently that she doesn't feel the same way and that if Lawrence asked for her hand in marriage she would say yes.

⋆ ˚｡ Heartbroken, ashamed and a mix of other emotions, Millie tells her she's dumb for thinking a man will fix all her problems and her mother would be ashamed. Extremely hurt, Winifred commands that Millie leave and both girls are seen crying.

Autumn, 1890

⋆ ˚｡ While promenading around the park, Lawrence gets down on one knee and asks Winifred to marry him to which Winifred happily replies, yes, of course.

⋆ ˚｡ Winifred writes a letter to her mother and Millie explaining that she's leaving. It's implied that the letter she writes to her mother is the letter that begins our legacy here.

#i decided to post this tonight so i can queue up the posts i have starting tomorrow #the prequel #alice monet

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