#Screaming at my book like they can hear me
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Okay, so the longer you go blind, the more your other senses heighten. Humans have proven that they can develop echo location. Especially since humans already have a form of it in their every day lives.
Just one of the Bat Fam hearing clicks, only to find Reader making the noise to pin point where things are. But the second they turn the corner, Reader stops and turns their head towards the 'sibling' that suddenly came into their room.
"Why were you clicking so much?"
"Oh, it makes it easier to get around when there isn't anyone else to make sound. Usually, any amount of sound can help me locate what's around me."
"Like... a bat?"
"I guess? It's not new. Lot of blind people can do it to some extent."
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On another note, I feel like Tim would be the least likely to treat Reader as a baby when his attention is on them. He literally trained to fight blind. So did Bruce. But for Bruce, he hasn't had to use that skill in so long, and it was a small part of his training. Tim frequently makes use of his skill in some way, even if he can see, using it as a way to dodge or attack behind himself.
Maybe this leads to Tim getting Alfred to recommend blind self defense training and some martial arts training. After he gets back from his own blind training for Robin. And then just forgets about Reader.
But this leads Reader to actually favoring Tim a bit more, cause he doesn't treat them like an idiot or an invalid. He also made sure Reader has a form of training.
Maybe, when he starts becoming Yandere, he invites Reader to the training mats to help him keep his blind fighting up and teach her more.
Heck, we can even continue on this line. Reader walking with a friend in Gotham, and a mugger to try to grab the blind person. Damian, as Robin on patrol with his siblings, tries to intervene before the 'weak' sibling gets hurt. Only to watch the mugger get bodily tossed, or their feet swept out from under themselves.
And Tim isn't surprised.
OH MY GOD I AM SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO ANSWER😭😭
Yeah , when you treat a child like an adult it will imitate you. Many actually confused children's accent for not knowing how to pronounce words because of lack of knowledge (still a key factor) but it's actually them imitating the baby talk they hear.
Tim would be the type who shows you how to fish instead of giving you fish. I feel like in some sweet way he used to read to you not fairytales but hardknock books be it from science to history. Reader would slightly have better manners with Tim then anyone else because even with their relationship strained she is happy with the memories.
The exact scene Tim will become yandere would actually seeing you do the stuff he taught you doing alone , like slight training in your room , reading alone in braille (it looked low quality since finding braille books are difficult to find) he didn't know what you were reading , he felt bad , so he secretly started learning braille to make books for you and making sure they are the highest quality paper and making sure it's the best of the best translation by going to professionals and staying up to make the cover textures you like. He does ask you about your constant clicking and tapping of foot and gets you so many clicky pens.
Damian , unconsciously followed you walking home and was upset you walking around the street without a cane (he was jealous of your friend holding your hand for guidance) , a rush blurree was about robbed you blind but your insticts bodied him so hard in the cement floor that your friend was the one screaming. Damian was stilled shock and waited for you and your friend to leave to check on the man , kicking the robber's leg and checking his heart (he's alive but paralyzed) he is Honestly excited , HIS OLDER SIBLING CAN FIGHT! Though still amateur move , THEY CAN STILL FIGHT.
In Damian's mind fighting and playing is practically the same.
#yandere batboys#yandere batfam#yandere damian wayne#neglected reader#yandere tim drake#blind reader
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I BURN FOR YOU | PART THREE
He snaps his head up, eyes locking with yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before. “When the next two months are over, you’re going to stay with me and it’s going to be your choice this time.” Simon takes a hold of your hand, kissing the top of it before holding it in between the both of his.
“I will make every effort to make it so darling.”
Your sharp gasp is a most enjoyable sound for Simon that he certainly plans on hearing again. You pull your hand from his and start to make your way out of the room.
“Darling?” Simon stands and begins after you. You whip around quickly catching him off guard.
“You’re rude and mean and cold for weeks! I shout at you once and you’re suddenly the perfect gentleman?” Your eyes narrow into slits, “I don’t buy it.”
“I can only apologise for my previous irresponsible behaviour.” Simon sounds genuine but you don’t want to believe it.
“Irresponsible?” You question his choice of words.
“It’s irresponsible if I have ruined any chance of getting you to stay at the end of these two months.” His voice holds a tone you’re unfamiliar with, not just from Simon but from any man you’ve ever encountered. It sounds like begging. The way his brow furrows deep, his eyes aren’t cold but are warm and welcoming, he looks just about ready to fall to his knees but you highly doubt that.
Everything that was once cold and harsh now screams to you to come closer, bellows to you to fall into his arms, like a siren he becomes your walking dream. You have to take a sharp breath in, you have to steel yourself. He had been cold and rude to you for almost a whole month now, you were not going to give into his new facade so easily.
“I don’t believe whatever this is,” you gesture to all of him, “no one can change over night.”
But he had. When you yelled in his face that this wasn’t your choice either, a realisation had struck him that he feels an simpleton he didn’t think about it before, you didn’t choose this just as he hadn’t chosen it. He had been giving you the cold shoulder with the prejudice that you had chosen this and agreed to marry him. That you had brought this misery upon him.
But to realise you had been forced into this with no way out, only then did he understand how much of a cunt he’d been to you. You, a sweet gorgeous woman who had been forced to put up with his shit from the day you said I do, suffering in silence until yesterday.
“Let me prove it to you.” Simon takes hold of your hand, speaking soft and calm. His eyes hold so much emotion you almost can’t seem look into them without giving into him. He sees you’re still uncertain and rightfully so, “I will try my utmost to show you I am no longer cold, and that I wish for you to stay with me.”
You simply frown and pull your hand away. Simon can see it though, the acceptance glistening in those pretty eyes of yours. You’re not going to say it aloud, definitely not, but he has a chance and he’s not going to fuck it up.
The difference is outstanding, extraordinary almost. It’s like he’s an entirely different man from the one you had been dealing with for a month. He waits for you during meals times, waits for you to fuss with your dress and hair, waits for you to sip your wine, waits for you to pick up your knife and fork before even thinking about picking up his.
He makes conversation during these times too, asks about your day at dinner or what you had planned at breakfast. He smiles as he listens to you talk about a new book you read in the library, tells you about the time his mother used to read to him when he’d wake up from nightmares as a child.
Simon actively seeks you out throughout the day, whether it’s with a rose in hand he’d picked specially for you or to ask if you’d join him for tea or a walk in the gardens perhaps. He finds ways to make you smile or laugh, and though you curse yourself for it, it’s so nice to laugh. Sometimes by the end of dinner you’re laughing so hard your stomach hurts.
You can’t help but think about the sheer contrast from your first meal together, Simon with a frown permanently etched on his perfectly structured face. You not even wanting to speak to him and battling your internal thoughts of never having happiness. To this, laughter and a happiness you hadn’t felt before.
Simon also starts to walk you to your room at the end of the evening and bid you goodnight. Tonight as you walk side by side, after one too many glasses of wine you’re unable to stop yourself from your words. “Sometimes you are entirely confusing,” your words sound a little slurred, it’s makes Simon hum interested in what you have to say though.
He’s figured out that you forget yourself after a few drinks, you spill your soul to him in a way he’s been internally begging for. You always apologise for your actions at breakfast the next morning when your head is aching. But he brushes you off, saying he loves to hear what you have to say. He enjoys you being so open with him.
Your heels clip and clop against the black and white marble flooring as you continue, “I thought you said you wouldn’t be walking me to my room.” You raise a brow, glancing at him next to you. So tall.
Simon smiles down at you softly, you looked especially beautiful tonight. The light purple glittering dress you’d chosen to wear suits you impeccably. Your hair is a sweet updo with a small section of your hair remaining out of the bun and curled in the London fashion. Your cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and your smile is a little lopsided. You looked ethereal. Like a deity. An unobtainable being and yet you’re his to have and hold, to love and to cherish.
He’d done a shit job thus far, not anymore.
“I believe your mistaken my lady,” Simon’s playful tone brings a giggle bubbling up your throat, “that was said by another man. And awful, rude-“
“-cock of a man.” You freeze, eyes widening at your loose lips. Hesitantly you glance up at your husband to your right, he’s staring down at you, lips parted in shock, eyes widened in surprise. It’s so quiet in the hallway as you’ve both stopped walking you think you’d be able to hear your hairpin drop.
Then suddenly Simon laughs, it’s a bellowing full belly laugh. It brightens your mood and calms you all at once. The sound makes you start to laugh too, until you’re both stood in an empty hallway laughing uncontrollably.
“Oh darling, you truly amuse and amaze me. You’re truly unlike any woman I’ve ever met.” The Duke tells you earnestly, sighing after catching his breath. You feel a warm arm wrap around your waist just as you start to sway.
You both start to walk again, it’s in a sweet silence. A peaceful serenity that you both bathe in until you’re finally in front of your room. A frown begins to grow on his face, he wishes he could demand you move your things into his room just so you could both continue to be together peacefully like this.
“Thankyou,” you bring his undivided attention back to you, “for walking me to my room. I bid you goodnight your grace.” You smile up at him.
Simon smiles back, maybe he’s had one too many glasses of wine too, he thinks, as he finds himself leaning closer to you. No it’s not the wine, it’s just you. You’re simply enchanting to him, like a witch has put a spell on him, he’s in a trance leaning forward and pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth.
One could argue it was your cheek but it was far too close to your lips for there to be any sound evidence for that. And there it was again, that sharp gasp Simon has been dreaming about ever since he first heard it. The way your chest jolts with it, God you drive him insane.
“That scent,” he inhales lips suddenly at the shell of your ear, nostrils flaring as he takes a breath in deep. He feels dizzy at the scent, “roses.” He whispers, groaning slightly, feeling on a high from being so close to you.
Feeling the cold wall against your back and the warmth of his body pressing to yours makes you light headed. Weak at the knees, they buckle slightly but you’re not afraid to fall when your husband is holding you up so diligently.
“Simon.” You breathe out, his face is the closest it’s ever been. You can feel his hot breath, it’s strong of wine and those delectable chocolates you had for dessert. It’s dizzying. Simon moves his face in front of you, eyes locking with yours. You feel it again, the electricity around you both, crackling and popping in the air. Sparks flying.
“You’re beautiful, wife.” He whispers full of conviction. His irises blown wide, covering the brown in his gorgeous eyes. Simon rests his forehead on yours. You find yourself inching forward.
You want him to kiss you, want him to hold you, you simply want him. Simon is internally battling if it’s acceptable to kiss you. You are his wife, but he’s just started laying the ground work and building a friendship with you. He’s doesn’t want you to think he’s doing it to just to sleep with you. He doesn’t want your mind to jump to you being used in any way shape or form.
So he kisses your cheek once more, soft, plump lips pressing against the skin. Stubble pressing into your cheek in a way that actually does make your knees buckle, but Simon’s got you. He tells you so.
“Goodnight darling.” Disappointingly, your husband pulls away and bows to you before leaving swiftly down the hall. You watch him the whole way until he disappears round the corner, it’s only then that you enter your bedroom and flop onto your bed.
Your three maids are waiting for you, all of them smiling at you. The whole household is happy the Duke and Duchess are finally getting along and even a romantic bond is building there. They help undress you and dress you for bed all while you compliment Simon with slurred words and a lopsided grin on your face.
The same lopsided grin Simon wears after hearing exactly what you said about him last night.
You start to sit with him when he works, reading your books. He makes the effort to ask what you’re reading and your favourite chapter so far, but, you’ve noticed he’s not actually listening as he stares at the difficult account ledgers in front of him. However the effort to ask makes you smile nonetheless.
He seems overly stressed today when you enter the east wing study, your smile instantly dropping at the sight. “Simon?” You don’t have to ask if he’s okay, your concern is not only present in your tone but it’s clear as day on your face as well.
“We need to attend the Price ball tonight.” He says nothing more, wiping his hands down his face. He looks exhausted. You step further into the room coming to a stop in front of his desk.
“Of course. It’s only fair as we missed the last one, and the Viscountess would not stop making me feel guilty about it at the ladies luncheon last week.” You agree with a smile that makes Simon soften.
“Thank you.” He says quietly reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze.
“Well I suppose I must get ready then.”
Simon thinks this is the longest he’s ever waited, not just for you, but for any woman ever to get ready for a ball.
But when you descend the grand stair case, he does not care. His breath is caught in his throat at the sight of you. You’re not in the usual London fashion and he’s loving it, soaking it up like fine expensive liquor.
You’re in a dark red dress that’s a tad big tighter than London dresses are, it shapes you and accentuates your figure perfectly. Your hair is pinned up in a plaited bun with small red roses accessorising it. You’ve got a soft glow to your face too, reddened cheeks from the rouge that your maid had put there and a red lip to match the rest of you.
Simon doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more exquisite in all his years.
“You’re staring.” You smirk at him feeling jittery at the look in his eyes.
“You’re stunning.” He quips back unable to look anywhere but you. Even as Johnny clears his throat and informs you both that the carriage is ready. Even as he is passed his gloves, scarf and cloak. Even as you cover up the dress with a cloak of your own to fight off the winter chill. Even during the bumpy carriage ride to the Viscount’s estate. Simon doesn’t look away once, something you feel yourself heating up at.
To have his eyes on you, not just your face but your body too. It sends a wave of something you’ve never felt before through your lower abdomen, you just know it feels good. You’re disappointed when he looks away to get out of the carriage but you suppose it’s better than him face planting into the gravel.
The Viscount’s estate is large, smaller than Simon’s but still large nonetheless. Mayfair Hall, Simon told you it was called. It was all lit up and sounded loud inside, busy and bustling with the life and soul of London’s ton.
You take off your cloak, smoothing your dress down and making sure your hair is still in place despite the freezing breeze. “Stop fussing, you look better than anyone here.” You scoff at your husband’s words.
“You haven’t even seen anyone inside there yet.” Simon licks his lips, wetting them to keep them from drying out in the cold while you roll your eyes.
“I don’t need to see inside to know you’re easily more beautiful than anyone here darling.” The Duke smoothly replies ignoring the way the footmen glance at him surprised.
“Well aren’t you quite the charmer!” Before you can say anything you’re both taken off guard by the hostess herself coming out of the estate to greet you both. She’s absolutely stunning in a dark green dress, “You’ll have to teach John.” She jokes to Simon before turning to you and greeting you with a hug.
She may have made you feel guilty at the ladies luncheon but she was easily the nicest person there, “I’m so happy you came tonight!” She squeals linking arms with you, leading you inside.
The night goes by swiftly, Simon goes off with John somewhere together after about three dances with you. It leaves you at the mercy of the ton and gossip. So far you’d managed to avoid anyone who wasn’t your husband, the Viscount and Viscountess. But as both men are off discussing the issue Simon is having with his ledgers and the Viscountess is busy hosting you’re no longer provided such protection, which the vultures seem to notice.
Two vultures in particular, Lady Germain and Lady Trowridge make their way over to you, curtsying respectfully before attacking.
“How are things with the Duke?” Lady Germain asks.
“I hear it was an arranged marriage, you must not be very happy.” Lady Trowridge says like she’s answering for you.
“Oh, you must not be making any heirs then.” Lady Germain looks you up and down with a slight disgust.
“That all depends on how respectful the Duke is, though he is still a man after all.” Lady Trowridge once again speaks as though the question is not aimed at you.
This goes on for what feels like a lifetime, they go back and forth, one pointing questions your way while the other answers for you in an abstract way. Neither one letting you speak as they belittle you, Simon, your relationship with your husband, the fact that you’re not pregnant yet and more. It’s makes you want the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
“Do either of you ever stop talking?” You ask genuinely, a little too loud drawing attention, after basically downing your fourth glass of champagne. Both ladies blink at you in shock, “How do you not get tired of listening to your own voices?” You shake your head astonished before walking away.
You had been excited for this ball, happy to be out and with Simon. But now it felt like a big mistake, that Simon should have scheduled a different time with John to talk about the books so you could stay in your secluded home with your walls up and where these ghastly vultures couldn’t reach you.
You begin to leave, asking for your cloak from the boy you’d given it to at the start of the evening when you weren’t feeling the gut wrenching pain you are now. Being not only belittled by them, but for them to talk so openly about the fact that Simon probably hadn’t bedded you yet. Wouldn’t want to touch you and that you’d most definitely never have children with him.
Your heart ached at the thought. Even with your slowly building relationship, you hadn’t given things like marital relations between the two of you that much thought. Maybe because you didn’t see it happening yourself, that bothered you but not as much as never being able to mother your own child did.
That was something that was still raw, something that you were still mourning the loss of, something you don’t think you’ll ever have. For them to rip open the stitches you’d tried so hard to keep tight for the wound to heal, it was truly devastating.
You wanted to leave and never return to society.
The boy handed you your cloak just as Simon rounded the corner, eyes a little frantic until they landed on you and softened into concern. Coming over to you he instantly noticed something wrong and asked you what it was.
But you refused to tell him, muttering out a nothing, that’d you’d simply had enough and wanted to leave. Simon didn’t press the matter further, he wasn’t one for society so he was more than happy to go.
After a quick goodbye to the host and hostess, the carriage is summoned and you’re back on that bumpy ride. Except this time, the carriage isn’t full of lust and happiness, it’s full of a harsh atmosphere. You’re miserable, biting back the tears refusing to let them fall in front of Simon just like you’re refusing to look at him. You know if you do you’ll break down in his arms and tell him everything those awful women said.
You don’t want anything to ruin what you have, things have changed for the better. You don’t want to put him off now.
Simon can tell there’s something you’re hiding from him, but he’s happy to be patient with you and won’t push unless it’s absolutely necessary. Though he does try to ask you once more when you arrive home, but you simply say it’s nothing and scramble away to your room, he watches you go.
It brings him back to the first few weeks of your marriage, the feeling it brings him is sickening. He doesn’t want your walls to go back up, he wants you to unfold yourself to him. Confide in him, let him comfort you. But it looks like you’re not there yet.
You slam the door in your maids faces, sliding down the white painted wood as you finally let the tears fall. You cry hard, pulling a pillow from your bed to shove your face into. It’s a loud scream that escapes your throat, muffled by the cushion, but loud nonetheless. You screamed out every feeling that had built up with each word out of their disgusting mouths.
Pouring your despair into the pillow was the only thing you wanted to do. So caught up in the pain and the insults swirling in your head, you don’t hear the door opening or the rushed food steps, the knees dropping to the floor beside you. Or maybe you do and you simply choose to ignore them as you continue to sob until warm, thick arms envelop you in a protective hold.
“Oh my darling.” His words are soft and dripping with sympathy, you can’t hear. It’s like your ears are stuffed with cotton balls, your eyes sting and your mouth feels dry but you can’t stop crying. Simon wasn’t going to make the same mistake as he made last time when he just listened to you cry.
No, not this time. He was going to hold close you until the last tear, and be ready with an open mind to listen to exactly what brought on this onslaught of sadness.
Then he was going rain hellfire on whoever caused it.
To be continued…
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#I BURN FOR YOU SERIES#simon x reader#duke simon riley#regency au#mini series#simon riley x female reader#duchess reader#duke x duchess#simon riley x me#simon riley x y/n#simon riley fluff#simon riley smut#simon riley x oc#simon riley imagine#simon riley cod#call of duty simon riley#call of duty simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut#simon ghost fluff#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost angst
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100% perfect
GN!Esper!Reader x Y!Guide!Male OC
Note: hello im back. A lot happened, I had an anxiety attacks, my mind has been having a lot of bad thoughts, my dog passed away last year—three months ago... I didn't have a lot of time for me to write since I've been grieving for my dog's death up until now but I'm okay, I'm healing... Anyway, my writings is rusty and probably didn't improve. I know some of you guys really tried to reach out through ask and I'm kind of happy. Thanks. For now I'll give this to piece of one shot for a new year. This Esper x Guide thing I made might not be accurate. All i know is they are similar to Alpha x Omega shits except the curse thing on espers. This might be cringe. i will try to edit it. I will try to update the other oc's as well.
-also please do not do this, i do not condone anything in this story. This is purely fiction and be kept as a fiction.
CW: implied se(g)s, implied suicide(mention), yandere, drugging, manipulation, dynamic power, etc.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
"(Y/n)!!" A ginger haired male rush up to you, hugging you by the time you step on the greenery field of the university. Pastel blue of sweater was the first thing you see before you were envelope by a hug. You tense when his arms coils around your waist, hearing him breathe out of relief as he buries his face on your left shoulder.
You don't know what to do everytime he does this. There were eyes everywhere and it doesn't seem like he is bothered by it.
Of course why would he?
Micah Clarke is not only popular and prettiest student in this campus. He is known for being famous as the youngest champion of ice skating 3 years ago, defending his title until now. His luscious natural lips, his hazel eyes that could make you halt on what you were doing, the type to make yourself give him a third glance because he is so pretty. So pretty that you sometimes envy his glassy skin, igniting a insecurities to yourself. His soft curly ginger hair and freckled face that matches his glossy alabaster complexion. The type of guy who prefers cute, pastel than those typical guys—omg so unique(lol)—that always choose to wear dark or dull colors. Everyone finds him attractive including yourself. Everything about him screams beauty and elegance. He can hook up with men and women if he wants to but he chose not to.
From what you heard, he is a rare S-rank Guide. Most espers would try hook up with him atleast make a contract with someone like him. He would rather spend his time painting his nails, crochetting, organising or planning his time, practicing his amazing skills on ice skating, or rather do hundred routine for his skincare than hook up with other people. Quirky, Alright. Still, this doesn't stop people from wanting to go between his pants and his fame.
To people he is a swan. He is epitome of perfection.
You always see him pass by to your department, always getting called by the principal,inviting him to do a photoshoot, using his face as an advertisment for upcoming enrollent or any event inside the university. You never dwell yourself to swoon on to him whenever he pass by. Fine, you do like him. But not the kind of like where you are romantically interest to him. You just admire his looks, his talents and that's about it. You just don't like he was too friendly, there's nothing wrong with that but invading someone else personal bubble space—and the feeling of shame on yourself for being near someone kind as him—as if you two are already close is not your thing to a person you rarely talk to. Unlike him, you are the quite the opposite when it comes to socialising,You like being alone, you aren't anti-social, atleast, that's what you think you are. You are confident by yourself. An Introvert.
You just like the silence. It eases your deteriorating mind—(stupid esper curse) Somewhere peace and quiet,reading books, listening to music—gosh laufey and wave to earth and even (favorite singer/composer) always sound so good, spending time with your pets, to drown out insanity voices piling up in your head. Although you just have a few friends, you love to be alone. You once dream about getting a job. To work hard and earn a good money, once you have enough money. You would spend it to buy a house and lot somewhere away from the city and nearby the countryside with a small farm. Letting your family and friends to visit you time to time in occassions. Where you can spend the rest of your life alone and happy. A dream that would be come true if only you didn't awakened as an esper after you reach 18.
As for the guy who has the entire school and other people folded for him. He is choosing you to lend his attention, to a person who doesn't like attention. So why was he talking to someone who is a nobody like a B-rank Esper like you? The only interaction you had with him before he let himself in your life was when you pull him away from the bridge—you didn't know him at that time—a few exchange greeting—which of course he would be the first one to initiate it—and.... The party....
"N-ngh!!!" A whiny moan escape his lips. Your lips were on his neck drinking each of his soft sound coming from his mouth. The blaring party background can be ignore in the background thanks to the closed lock door of this room the both of you are in.You bite and nip his skin as if animal marking its prey. You didn't care if you torn his shirt, you just needed his guide seep through more, letting your body gone addicted to him. "(Y-y/n)!" The whay he whimpered your name made you groaned. The way every pulse from his body sends his guiding through your body. You were delirious, you can't resist him—
"Missed you! Why aren't you checking my messages? You know I got worried when you didn't reply." He whined, his orbs shows concern and sadness. You look away.
"...hey." you greeted him with quieter tone. You pulled away from the hug not liking the way your body just relaxes everytime his guide powers automatically seeps through your body. You don't hate it but you don't like the way that your body depends on someone just for the sake of being sane and relax.
.... The shame you are feeling over the past few weeks.
You still feel guilty and ashamed about it everytime you remember those memory.
"I... I was busy. Had to do homework. I fell asleep and forgot to charge my phone." You told him. Another excuse. You just put your phone on do not disturb.
You don't have the guts to tell a sweet person like him to leave you alone. Well you did because you are ashamed to face him but he insisted it was never you fault. It always ended up him spending time with you. You can't—you owe him more than anything—Especially now that all people's oggling to you too now that you have the attention of the star. They would try to befriending you so that they could get closer to him.
Gosh, you are getting tired. Why can't people leave you alone?
You missed the old times where you can be at peace. No drama, nowhere near on people who wants attention.
"O-oh. Well that's alright."he chided before grabbing your hands with both of his. His smooth hands rubbing against your ragged callouses. He continued, "well actually I was wondering could you hangout out with me? This friday? I know you don't have schedule at that time since you showed me your schedule—And I want to spend more time with you!" He beamed. His smile was out of this world and it blinds you.
"I uhh .. have a plan on that time..." You words went silent as soon as your eyes sees the smile from his lips slowly fell down to his face."really?" The grip on your hands were getting uncomfortable.
"Umm.... I just wanna be on my home and well—"He gasped, his smile is coming back on his symmetrical face as he clung to your right arm."oh! Why didn't you say so? We can hangout together in your home!"
Giddy, he press his front closer to you which made you feel suffocating. His guide power automatically seeps through you again.
"N-no, Mikah... What I meant to say is I plan to rest, like spend alone on that day. A peace and quiet." You slowly pull away your hand gently from his clinging hands.
You didn't expect he would react like this. Tears are already in the corner of his eyes. His lips quivering. "W-what? Are you saying that I'm boring, I-I'm too loud? Did I do something wrong?"
The people who were eavesdropping at your conversation sent a glare and unwanted resentment towards you.
You quickly shook your head. Your free hand clasping against his clutching ones that is gripping your poor unavailable hand. "No... It's not like that. You didn't do anything wrong.. I just want a me time... You know when... Uhhh before you and I become friends.... I just want to relax by myself.... You're a good friend and a good company but... We've been hanging out for a while... Ummm w-what I'm trying to say is... I want some time to be alone. You... You know what I mean right?"
Micah gave you a blank stare. You were getting uneasy. You bite your inner cheek. Will he lash out? He never seem to be the person who never received a refusal on his entire life. As soon as 2 seconds has passed, you noticed his eyes were akin to sadness. You feel the guilt running up to your spine.
You tried to avoid his gaze looking straight his frowning lips before getting replace by a forced grin. "Oh! I get that! You wish a time for yourself! Self care stuff in all that!"
Your heart beats a little faster in excitement, is he finally leaving you for a bit? You were about to thank him for understanding. He does l—
"B-but!!" He grabbed your hands again.
You internally groan. Does he even know the word no? Of course he don't.
He never had someone says no to him. Everything he request would be at his feet. You can't yell or be rude. That's not in your nature and plus if you done it. His fans would kill you.
"I need to be with you o-on friday! You know... I wanna spend my birthday with you.. P-please? your presence alone is enough a gift for me." He stammers. You blink in surprise. "I-I promise I won't bother you the next day if you really wanna spend t-time for yourself..."
Birthday?
"T-to be honest.... I don't like parties uhmm..." He lick his lips as if the word 'party' is a taboo between the two of you." Especially my birthday parties because a-although people greet me a happy birthday or any party occasion and stuff they never really mean it. They... Always use that as an excuse to use me for my fame or my money that I earned so hard in those competitions... I.. I plan to not throw one b-because m-my family isn't forcing me anymore... I just want to spend my birthday w-with you. Y-you're the only d-decent person who treated me normally."he stammer. You feel a lump on your throat when he says you're a decent. "I... I know... Umm I'm asking to much f-from you and I know... you didn't mean to do that—" he continues to rambles that some of his words can't form a right sentence. You noticed his eyes were in the verge of tears, threatening to drop from his eyes.
"I'm.... Not a decent person." You told him looking away from him, ashamed and hurt were written in your face.Your voice grew quiet but the man Infront catch on what you said, already refering to the 'incident' between the two of you. He bit his lower lips and almost yelled. His face pull out a sad look. It made him look cute if it's from a tears of joy."Y-you are ! You are a decent person! You know it's not your f-fault! You were d-drugged a-and I... I was drunk! W-we both know we weren't in o-our right minds! You never hurted me—!" He starts hiccuping. "You're a-a good person! W-what happened between that night s-should b-be buried! Y-you're a good friend! It's not your fault! It's not your f-fault!" With that he burst into tears.
You didn't expect for him to cry. You panic mentally. What should you do on these type of situations? You pull him for a hug—albeit stiffeningly."Ok... Ok... Don't cry.... I don't like it... When you cry.. I'm sorry." You told him honestly, truthfully this is not the first time he argued about the incident with you.
You still feel ashamed of yourself. You really do.
The party. If only you didn't come to your friend's party. The guilt won't eat you. No matter how many times Micah convinced you that none of it was your fault. You feel like you can't face him. He did say he was also drunk at the time but still... You could have gotten home earlier and didn't force yourself on him.
You cried and apologised so many times from him at that time, swearing you will turn yourself over to the police and never let him see your face again. You saw how his whole body was full of marks, hickeys, and bruises. He look like he got ravage. His clothes were thorn and you wish the drug in your system that time killed you.
Micah's eyes light up and a smirk forming from his lips as he nuzzle his face on your neck, pretending to cry even more. Everything is planned, everything worked for him to get you under his palm. He can feel the guilt eating you.
"... it's okay... Hik... " He sob sneaking in to kiss your neck. You are to busy awkwardly and hesitantly patting his back and hugging him and the man love every second of it.
From the moment you save him from jumping off the bridge, he needed to make you his. Someone who genuinely cares for him from this greedy world is something he needed to treasure.
Oh how he had you wrap around his fingers the moment you accepted that drug-disguise juice from one of his friends offered by the man himself. It's your fault.
It doesn't matter. You're under his palm forever. Everything is 100% perfect.
#yandere#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere lover#yandere x darling#yandere boy x reader#yandere boy#yandere friend#yandere boyfriend#yandere oc x y/n#y/n#darling#yandere guide#esper x guide#gn reader#pretty yandere#pretty boy#yandere oc x you#scara writes oc#yandere oc x reader#oc#yandere male x reader#male yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere oc x gn reader#gender neutral reader#yandere boy x you#yandere pretty boy#yandere ice skater#yandere mal
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ok this might be hella long, but I need to scream about some details about Makoto Yuki in Persona 3 Reload, because they're so missable so I feel like nobody else has noticed or cared about them other than me!!!!
Please someone hear me out 😭 (spoilers ahead)
One underrated thing about Reload, which is my favorite thing ever, is that we get to hear Makoto's thoughts when interacting with the world around him. Compare it to FES where the game's inner dialouge is in 2nd person, Makoto's inner dialouge in Reload is in first person.
I didn't give too much attention to a Makoto's thoughts in my 1st playthrough and I think it's what made me not as attached to Makoto as I would've liked in that playthrough. But god, in my 2nd playthrough, especially after watching the movies, all of that changed...
I noticed that Makoto's thoughts genuinely change as the game progresses. You see him start off as indifferent to everything, to cherishing the memories he's made with his friends.
For instance, take a look at his thoughts on the kitchen. I don't have a screenshot of this, but at first, he doesn't really care and just sees it as another tool. But as the game progresses...
This dialouge makes me swoon every time 😭💜
One of the biggest hidden details is Makoto's inner thoughts when you interact with the book on the dorm table. He has individual thoughts on the handwriting of each member of SEES as they join, which were delightful to read in my 2nd playthrough.
But what shocked me the most was after Shinji dies, if you interact with the book, then here are Makoto's inner thoughts:
That "..." doesn't show up if you interact with the book again. This was very intentional. And god, did that hit me extremely hard. In fact, if you interact with anything involving Shinji after he passes, you can really see how much Makoto respected him :((
Once January rolls around, Makoto's thoughts change to this sweet message 😭💜
Ngl I almost teared up when I saw this for the first time. Especially since it was my 2nd playthrough, and I was actually attached to Makoto this time + I knew what was up ahead :')
shit there's even dialouge if you go to the bathroom on the Promised day 😍
Don't even get me started on Makoto's inner dialouge on March 4th. Pretty much everything interactable is changed to fit the mood of how tired Makoto is, but also how much he's appreciated the year and the memories he's made.
Like when you interact with the kitchen, his inner dialouge about the kitchen changes once last time to this (credits to alanamisako):
This shit made me burst into tears so badly 😭😭😭 "I'll never forget those precious memories" FOUL atlus, FOUL!!! His thoughts on Shinji's room change on March 4th as well 🥲
Just seeing how much Makoto had grown throughout the game, and knowing what was to come, made this, and all the other March 4th dialouge, even harder to get through in my 2nd playthrough. It also resonated with me, because I too will never forget the precious memories I've made with this game...
Things like this make me appreciate Reload so much. Interacting with every little thing is my favorite pass time in video games that allow me to do it. I've probably wasted so much time in games doing this. But most game's interactables don't have this depth, and they certainly don't change at all, even as the game and protagonist develop. I also feel like nobody else takes the time to really interact with everything or see if there's anything else to see before they progress (trust me, if a game says go left, I'm always going to go right first), and it makes me sad that so much of this, and other details, go unnoticed. I've certainly heard "I've never noticed that" a lot when sharing these sorts of things with people 😭
Things like this really help flesh out the protagonist people call "bland". I really love silent protagonist and developing their personality based on their thoughts on the world around them. I also love worldbuilding and learning about other characters through it.
And I'm trying so hard to not let Makoto take Joker's place as my favorite protagonist (cuz the rest of SEES have already done that to the PTs LOL) but it's been getting harder these days. Makoto is just so perfect! I love his growth & seeing all of his inner thoughts and combining it with movie Makoto's AMAZING characterization (plz watch the p3 movies ya'll) just made me super attached to him!! I could scream about Makoto all day. He cares so much for his friends, and it's thanks to them that he's able to appreciate the life he didn't know he could have 🥲
So I highly encourage you to interact with everything when playing Reload! From NPCs, to random things that aren't the main objective (trying to leave when you're supposed to be fighting a full moon shadow leads to some funny dialouge for instance), etc etc.. especially as the game progresses. I mean, we all laughed at the 3 coffins in the Love Hotel, and there's so many other details and foreshadowing like that I can't even get into! It really immerses you and attaches you to the protag, but also makes the end of the game hit hard...That "my eyes feel heavy" got me horribly in my 2nd playthrough after keeping up with Makoto's thoughts the entire game HOO BOY!🥲
I also recommend you do this with other games as well. Video games have always been an experience over just a game to me. And I want to experience as much of the game as I can, even silly little things like this :)
#makoto yuki#minato arisato#persona 3#p3r#persona 3 reload#p3 mc#my gawd this is so long..the adhd took over. do ppl even read these tumblr essays?#someone please enthuse about this with me#i've been going so insane i love yukiiii my baby boy#and i love P3 Reload so much man i dont think anything on the planet could top it#i hope my yap session made you appreciate Reload a bit more as well#or maybe i just sound insane. eh i'll take that
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Would it be possible to get Valeria with a homebody writer (specifically romance writer maybe) partner?
This is totalllly not self indulgent at all, but I feel like the scenario you write where she broke into the readers house (which I loved btw) and becomes her stowaway would probably be the only way they meet lol, it's also possible that she could see the writer in a coffeeshop somewhere and have a meet cute but that doesn't really seem like her style to me :(
Feel free to change this up in any way you want I'm just throwing my ideas out from my mind palace
Yeah, I feel like meeting Valeria would be a little difficult unless it was some kind of home invasion type of scenario. Meet Cutes aren't her style sadly
Tags/Warnings: Kidnapping, WLW, Reader Gets Knocked Around, Fangirl Valeria
Meet Cute
Human error is unavoidable, like misspelling a word or grammatical errors. Even with a proof-reader, things are bound to slip past notice. Mistakes will be made eventually, no matter how careful a person is. You're tossed to the cement floor harshly, pain blossoming in your ribs from the impact. The sac over your head prevents you from seeing anything. Your ears ring, making it impossible to make out the low muttering of male voices.
No one is truly aware of how quickly things can change. Having four walls and a door often provides one with a false sense of security. Of safety. You thought you were safe. You were a bit reclusive. Preferring to be inside where the variables of life are easier to control. Even in a city like Las Almas. The environment that night was perfect for writing. Dark and slightly stormy. You were curled up on your couch, laptop in your lap with inspiration flowing from your pores. The first draft for your latest sapphic romance novel was almost completed.
Without any warning your front door was kicked open. The locks proving to be completely useless. You screamed and fought as masked men stormed inside. However, it was a short-lived battle. One punch to the temple was all it took to take the fight from you.
You're not given any time to catch your breath or get your bearings. Your grabbed by rough hands and dragged somewhere else. You're lifted and placed into a chair, hands tied behind you. Footsteps fade as the men leave you bound and blind. The only sound now being your own breathing and the frantic beating of your heart.
Waiting is the worst part. The dread of what's to come will never compare to what will actually happen. You're never going to finish your book. The second in your series. Your readers will never get to know what happens to the two main leads. Maybe it's your writing that got you here. You had gotten death threats before. As well as other types. As was the risks of writing the things you do. The situation almost reminds you of the story you posted to the internet when you were too young to be on it. A flawlessly witty girl is kidnapped by a stereotypically masculine guy. They fall in love.
You doubt there will be any love here though. Love doesn't flourish where death and decay feast. Finally, you hear footsteps approaching. Firm and confident. The door slides open and people enter, the room becoming heavy with tension.
"You thought you'd get away with stealing, hm?" A woman asks. You frown. You don't recall stealing anything. "Thought you were smarter than me?"
The bag is ripped from your head, and you recoil at how bright the lights are. You blink at the sight of the visibly angry woman in front of you. Reeking of violence and danger. Maybe it's because of all the questionable romantic leads you've written but there's something alluring about her. Though her being attractive doesn't make you less frightened.
She almost looks as confused as you feel. Brows furrowed into a frown. She says your name, which doesn't bode well for you.
"... I didn't steal from you." You say softly. Hoping to pacify the situation. "At least not knowingly, if I did I can replace it or give it back." You promise. The woman doesn't respond, just continues to gawk at you.
The silent staring is beginning to get uncomfortable. The two men she brought with her exchange confused glances. Clearly something isn't going the way it should.
"You wrote Stardust." She says finally. Your face warms with embarrassment. You're proud of what you write but it still feels... weird to have people talk about it. You furrow your brows. You didn't think a woman that looks like her would be in your audience.
"... Yeah, I uh, did." You nod awkwardly.
She puts her gun back into its holster. "I have all your books." She says. Surprising you.
The woman turns to the men beside her.
"This isn't the right woman you fucking idiots! I even gave you a picture how did you mess up?" She hisses at them. You almost deflate with relief at those words. A mistake. A simple case of human error. "Get out." She snaps. The men nod and leave quickly. Ashamed or afraid that they messed up. She turns back to you with an appraising eye.
"... Do you like them?" You ask.
Her brows furrow. "What?"
"My books." You clarify nervously.
She walks behind you.
"One of my guilty pleasures is romance," She starts. "it's a nice escape from the grueling, bloody reality of my life."
"That's... nice." You reply. She didn't really answer your question.
"I'm picky though, I'll drop a book easily if the characters do something I think is stupid."
Oh. She's probably going to chastise you for writing idiots - which admittedly, you have. In some of your earlier books. The ropes loosen, freeing your hands.
"But I like the way you write people." She praises. "They're realistically stupid."
You bring your hands to your lap and inspect your wrists. The soft skin is a little red.
"Oh, thank you." You say, blinking gratefully. She walks back in front of you.
"This was a misunderstanding." She says, voice soft and placating. You look at her and wonder if this is a trick. You rise to your feet.
"All good." You smile. Though it's actually not all good. You're shaken. Your home was broken into and you were kidnapped. However, saying that might not bode over well.
"... So is Stardust getting a sequel?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at you.
She has a very intense stare. You have to look away because staring into her dark brown eyes is starting to make you uncomfortable.
"I'm in the process of writing it, actually." You tell her. "Well, the draft."
She continues to stare at you. "Do you think you could add me into the book?"
You frown. "Yeah, sure I could do that." You nod reluctantly. This woman scares you and you'd hate to disappoint her.
"I shouldn't tell you my name, but I just love you and your writing so much," She admits. "I'm Valeria."
You nod.
"Valeria." You repeat. "Nice to meet you, I suppose."
Valeria nods and cracks a small smile. "Great. Why don't I take you home now then?" She says, herding you towards the door. You try to protest against that, not really wanting her to know where you live. Though considering her people had taken you from your home in the first place, she probably already knows. Your words fall on deaf ears. Valeria is determined to escort you home safely. Wanting to spend a little one on one time with her favourite author.
#valeria garza#valeria garza x reader#valeria garza x fem!reader#cod mw2#valeria garza cod#modern warefare ii#cod mwii#cod x reader#valeria garza x you#cod
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Hello everyone!! This is the first lesson of the long awaited unofficial season 4 of Obey me Nightbringer written by yours truly <3
I will post lessons every 10 days.
I hope you enjoy it (it came out a little long but I hope it's not a problem)
Please make sure this finds other obey me lovers and people who don't want the series to end.
You can find more of my work here: Masterlist
@arie2faced wanted to be tagged so there you go!
Lesson 61: “Echoes of Change”
Preparations for the Grand Gala
The story begins with you and the brothers preparing for a grand event in the Devildom—the Infernal Gala, a highly anticipated celebration hosted by Diavolo to showcase unity and strength among the three realms. The brothers are busy with their individual tasks, and you help them throughout the day, making sure none of them are slacking off and checking the quality of their work.
Morning with Mammon
You find Mammon frantically trying to pick an outfit in his room, clothes scattered everywhere. He groans as he holds up a jacket, glaring at it like it personally offended him.
Mammon: “This stupid thing doesn’t fit right! What if I don’t look good enough? Diavolo’ll never let me hear the end of it!”
You: “You’re overthinking it, Mammon. You look great in anything.”
You pick up a sleek black jacket with gold trim from the pile and hold it up to him.
You: “Here, try this one. It suits you.”
Mammon grumbles but puts it on. When he turns to the mirror, his expression softens.
Mammon: “Huh. Guess it ain’t too bad… But y’know, it’s only ‘cause you picked it. You’ve got good taste.”
He pauses, scratching the back of his neck as he glances at you.
Mammon: “I dunno what I’d do without ya. Don’t tell the others, but… you’re my good luck charm, so stick close, alright?”
Afternoon with Leviathan
Levi is in his room, staring nervously at a stack of invitation cards. You peek in and see him pacing.
You: “Levi, what’s wrong?”
Leviathan: “It’s the Gala! There’s gonna be so many people there. What if I mess up? What if someone tries to talk to me and I freeze up?!”
You gently take his hands, grounding him.
You: “You’ll do great, Levi. And I’ll be there if you need me. We’re a team, remember?”
Levi calms down a little, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.
Leviathan: “Y-Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, with you around, I don’t have to worry as much. You’re like my Player Two in this crazy multiplayer game called life.”
He hesitates, then smiles shyly.
Leviathan: “Thanks. I mean it. You’re, like… my favorite rare find.”
Library with Satan
Satan is in the library, scanning a shelf filled with ancient tomes. He looks up when you enter, a small smile playing on his lips.
Satan: “Perfect timing. I was looking for this.”
He hands you a book bound in emerald green, the title in golden script: "The Legends of the Infernal Gala."
Satan: “I thought you might like to know more about the Gala’s history. It’s fascinating, really—did you know it started as a peace treaty celebration?”
You sit together, flipping through the pages. At one point, your fingers brush, and Satan pauses.
Satan: “You always surprise me. You’re curious, thoughtful, and unafraid to stand by us—even when things get complicated.”
He leans closer, his voice softer.
Satan: “I hope you know how much that means to me."
Dressing Room with Asmodeus
Asmo is in his room, surrounded by a dizzying array of outfits. He twirls in front of the mirror, striking a pose.
Asmodeus: “Tell me, which one screams ‘absolutely irresistible’? This one, or…”
He switches to another outfit, beaming at you.
You: “They’re both amazing, Asmo. You always look stunning.”
Asmodeus: (grinning) “Oh, you always know just what to say. But you know what? I think I’ll wear something that complements you. After all, we’ll be the center of attention together.”
He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
Asmodeus: “You have this way of making me feel… special. Like I don’t need to try so hard, because I’m enough just as I am. Thank you for that."
Kitchen with Beelzebub
Beel is in the kitchen, preparing snacks for the event. You help him arrange platters of food, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air.
Beelzebub: “Thanks for helping. I usually just eat everything, but it feels nice to make something for others.”
As you finish, Beel offers you a piece of chocolate from the tray, his expression soft.
Beelzebub: “You’re always looking out for us. It makes me want to do the same for you.”
He smiles, his usual straightforward honesty shining through.
Beelzebub: “You’re like family to me��� but also more than that. I’m glad you’re here.”
Attic with Belphegor
Belphie is lying on a pile of blankets in the attic, staring at the ceiling. You join him, and he shifts to make room.
Belphegor: “The Gala’s gonna be exhausting. Too many people, too much noise. But at least you’ll be there.”
He closes his eyes, his voice soft.
Belphegor: “You’re the only one who makes all this bearable, you know. Stay with me a while. Just you and me, away from everything else.”
You rest beside him, and for a moment, the world feels quiet.
Study with Lucifer
Lucifer is in his study, reviewing event schedules and security measures. He looks up as you enter, his expression softening.
Lucifer: “Ah, I was just going over the final details. It’s a relief to see you—you have a calming effect, even on someone like me.”
You share a quiet moment, the crackling of the fireplace filling the silence. Lucifer pours you a glass of Demonus, his movements elegant.
Lucifer: “The Infernal Gala represents unity, strength, and peace. But for me… it’s also a reminder of how far we’ve come.”
He gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth.
Lucifer: “You’ve been a part of that journey. More than you realize.”
The calm shatteres
The next morning, you are in the gardens of the House of Lamentation, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sky is a deep, rich purple, with faint stars twinkling above. Beelzebub joins you, carrying a tray of snacks.
Beelzebub: “You’ve been quiet today. Something on your mind?”
You: (smiling softly) “Not really. Just thinking about how calm everything feels right now. It’s… nice.”
Beelzebub: (sitting beside you) “Yeah. Feels like it’s been a while since things were this peaceful. Lucifer hasn’t yelled at anyone today, and Mammon hasn’t set anything on fire… yet.”
You both share a laugh, but before the moment can last, a faint tremor shakes the ground. Beel jumps to his feet.
Beelzebub: “What was that?”
A ripple of energy passes through the garden, and several flowers wilt instantly. The air feels charged, heavy. You feel a faint pulse from your pact mark, though you don’t fully understand it yet.
You and Beel rush inside the House of Lamentation, where chaos has already begun. Furniture is floating, magical items are malfunctioning, and the brothers are in disarray.
Mammon: (running around) “Somebody fix this! My wallet turned into a bat and flew off! That’s my life savings in there!”
Leviathan: (clutching his D.D.D.) “Do you know how many hours of gameplay I just lost?! This is worse than the Great Reset of Akuzon Prime!”
Lucifer: (trying to remain composed) “Everyone, calm down. Panicking will accomplish nothing.”
Belphegor: (yawning) “Wake me when this is over. Or don’t. I’m fine either way.”
You notice your pact mark faintly glowing whenever the chaos intensifies. Asmodeus steps in, looking alarmed.
Asmodeus: “Is it just me, or does the energy in the house feel… weird? It’s like something’s out of sync.”
Before anyone can respond, the chandelier shatters with a loud crash. Lucifer’s patience snaps.
Lucifer: “Enough! Everyone, to the Demon Lord’s Castle—now. Diavolo needs to hear about this immediately.”
Emergency Meeting with Diavolo
The group arrives at the Demon Lord’s Castle. Diavolo greets you all with a worried expression, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by a more serious air. Barbatos stands quietly by his side, his gaze sharp and observant.
Diavolo: “Ah, you’ve arrived. I trust you’ve noticed the disturbances, then?”
Lucifer: “Noticed is an understatement. The House of Lamentation is in complete disarray. What’s causing this?”
Diavolo’s expression tightens, and he motions for you all to take a seat.
Diavolo: “It’s more than just your house, Lucifer. The magical ley lines that run through the Devildom are experiencing unusual fluctuations. Spells are failing, spells are overloading… and the environment itself is becoming unstable.”
Diavolo remains silent for a short while before speaking again.
Diavolo: "Remember when a few months ago the Devildom moon begun moving closer to us? And how MC stopped it with the help of (name of the brother you chose in lesson 60)? I think it might be somehow related to all this.
Barbatos: (nodding gravely) “We’ve been monitoring the situation for the past few weeks, but the source remains elusive. The ley lines should remain stable, but we are seeing powerful surges in energy that we cannot explain.”
Simeon: (calmly interjecting) “It’s a troubling situation, indeed. I’ve been sensing something off as well, but I can’t make sense of it.”
Solomon: (looking up from his scrolls) “The balance between the realms is delicate. It’s entirely possible this disturbance has something to do with the convergence of magical energies—perhaps even beyond our realm’s control.”
Luke: (clutching his little angel staff nervously) “So... we’re all in danger?”
Mephistopheles: (snickering from the corner) “Well, that depends on what you call ‘danger.’ There’s always a way to spin these things to our favor, you know.”
Raphael: (stoically) “We need to investigate this matter thoroughly. If there’s a threat, we’ll need to handle it swiftly, for the sake of everyone’s safety.”
Thirteen: (suddenly appearing with a slight chuckle) “It’s always so serious when you guys talk like this. How about we enjoy the chaos a little bit?”
The group’s attention is drawn back to Diavolo, who remains focused despite the tension.
Diavolo: “We’ve heard your concerns. But I must ask, how does this all relate to the Infernal Gala? If these disturbances continue, it could be catastrophic.”
Lucifer: “The Gala is already under heavy scrutiny. If the realm’s stability is at risk, Diavolo, this could be a catastrophic blow to the reputation of the Devildom.”
Asmodeus: “Oh, I can’t imagine the disaster. The Gala’s atmosphere would be ruined if the magical energies continue to fluctuate like this. People will notice, and chaos would break out if they suspect anything is wrong.”
Beelzebub: (his voice low and serious) “If things continue like this, there’s a real danger of even the food and drinks being affected. Imagine the mess if everything starts malfunctioning at the event.”
Lucifer: “Exactly. And with all the high-profile guests we’re expecting… We must act swiftly.”
Diavolo stands up, his usual warmth replaced by a rare intensity.
Diavolo: “For now, I ask all of you to stay vigilant. If you notice anything unusual—anything at all—report it immediately. The Gala must go off without a hitch, for the sake of maintaining peace and stability. But we must also prepare for the possibility that something more sinister is at play.”
Barbatos: (calmly) “We will continue investigating, but please, if you feel anything strange—if there’s any oddity you experience—don’t hesitate to tell us. The more information we have, the better.”
Lucifer: (looking directly at you) “You, especially. I’m sure you’ve felt it, too. These disturbances seem… connected to you.”
The room falls silent again as all eyes shift toward you. You feel a weight settling on your shoulders, the pressure building.
Diavolo: (smiling reassuringly) “You’ve done well so far. But now, we must prepare for whatever comes next. The Gala is crucial, but our first priority must be understanding the root cause of these events. If there’s a connection between you and this instability… we’ll need to address it quickly.”
As you nod in response, a sense of foreboding fills the air. The once-bustling preparations for the Gala seem like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the uncertainty surrounding the disruptions.
A talk with Solomon
After the emergency meeting, you wander through the halls of the House of Lamentation, the weight of the situation pressing on you. The magical disturbances, the instability in the Devildom... you feel like you're on the edge of something bigger, but you can't quite grasp it.
A soft voice interrupts your thoughts.
Solomon: "You're still awake, huh? I figured you might be here."
You turn and see Solomon leaning against the doorframe, his usual playful expression replaced by one of concern. He steps into the hallway, his gaze never leaving you.
You: “I don’t understand any of this… It feels like everything’s connected, but I don’t know how or why.”
Solomon walks up to you, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He looks at you with a knowing look, as though he’s been waiting for this conversation.
Solomon: “I can see why you’re confused. The fluctuations... the disruptions in the ley lines, they’re not random. They’re a result of your presence here.”
You: (frowning) “My presence?”
Solomon: (nodding) “It’s complicated. There’s something about your connection to the brothers, your dual pacts, that’s causing the instability. It’s as if the power between you and them is... too much for the realms to handle.”
You feel a jolt of realization. The dual pacts. You hadn’t thought about the significance of them, but it makes sense now. Solomon's words seem to echo in your mind, each one a small revelation.
You: “So... you think the dual pacts are the reason this is happening?”
Solomon hesitates for a moment, then nods, his eyes serious.
Solomon: “I’m beginning to suspect that’s the case. The way your power interacts with theirs... it’s creating more energy than the ley lines can accommodate. It’s like a pressure building up, and when too much energy is focused in one place, the balance of the realms starts to break down.”
You swallow, trying to process it all. Your mind races through everything you’ve experienced—the strange pull of the pact mark, the disruptions, the growing tension. It all leads back to the pacts.
You: “But why now? Why is this only happening now?”
Solomon: (with a sigh) “It didn't start now. Actually it's been going on for a while now. Remember how the moon was getting progressively closer and closer a few months ago? I suspect that's also due to your magic. But for all I know the dual pacts were never meant to be this powerful. They’re an anomaly.”
You: “So, everything that’s happening... it’s my fault?”
Solomon: (softly) “Not your fault. But your presence, your bond with the brothers—it’s a key factor. I should’ve been more cautious. I knew the pacts were risky, but I didn’t expect something like this would happen.”
You feel your heart race as you try to understand the magnitude of what Solomon is telling you. The chaos, the disruptions... you feel like you’re at the center of it all, and it’s terrifying.
You: “How do we fix this?”
Solomon takes a step closer, his gaze softening. His hand gently rests on your shoulder, and you feel a comforting warmth from his touch.
Solomon: “We’ll figure it out. Together. The brothers... they’re linked to this too, and we’ll need their help. But we can’t do it alone. The dual pacts are too unpredictable.”
For a moment, you both stand in silence, the weight of his words settling in. The chaos, the stakes... it feels like everything is changing too fast. Yet, with Solomon’s presence, there’s a sense of calm. You find comfort in his understanding.
You: “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Solomon smiles, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart flutter, though he doesn't say anything for a moment. He simply pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close, offering a silent promise.
Solomon: “You’ll never have to find out.”
You lean into his chest, the tension in your body slowly melting away. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, and for the briefest moment, the world outside feels a little more bearable.
Solomon: “We’ll fix this. We’ll make sure the Gala goes off without a hitch, and we’ll find the cause of all this. But until then... just know that I’m here.”
You look up at him, your voice quiet but firm.
You: “Thank you, Solomon. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I’m... not alone in this anymore.”
Solomon’s smile deepens, and he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.
Solomon: “You’re never alone, MC. Not with me by your side.”
The Pact’s Secret Emerges
Later that evening, while the brothers are asleep, you are drawn to the library by an inexplicable force. You find an old book glowing faintly on the shelf and open it. The pages are filled with ancient symbols you can’t understand. Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupts you.
Barbatos: (appearing silently behind you) “Curious, isn’t it? That book is one of the oldest records in the castle. It documents the nature of pacts and their potential… consequences.”
You jump in surprise, quickly closing the book.
You: “Barbatos! You scared me. I didn’t mean to—”
Barbatos: (smiling slightly) “You needn’t apologize. It’s no coincidence that you were drawn to this book.”
Barbatos steps closer, his gaze calm but piercing.
Barbatos: “Tell me, since your return from the past, have you noticed anything… unusual? A change in your magic, perhaps? Or a resonance with the brothers’ powers?”
You stiffen.
You: “What do you mean by ‘return from the past’? How do you know about that?”
Barbatos: (tilting his head slightly) “I am the steward of time. There are few events that escape my notice.”
Your eyes widen. You clutch the book tightly, unsure of how to respond.
You: “I… I haven’t told anyone except Solomon. How much do you know?”
Barbatos: “Enough to understand that your journey was no mere coincidence. It was necessary, though its ripple effects are only now beginning to manifest.”
You: “Ripple effects…? Are you saying all of this—the disturbances in the Devildom—are my fault?”
Barbatos: (softly) “Fault is a strong word. Responsibility, perhaps. But do not misunderstand—your presence here is essential. You hold the key to stabilizing the realm.”
Barbatos’ gaze sharpens as he steps closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper.
Barbatos: “However, I must warn you: secrets have a way of surfacing when the time is right. The truth will not remain hidden forever—not from the brothers, nor from yourself.”
He gestures toward the glowing book.
Barbatos: “Keep this between us for now. But be vigilant. The bonds you share with the brothers are deeper and more intricate than even you realize.”
After the encounter, Barbatos is in his room, standing over a magical map of the Devildom. Glowing lines represent the ley lines, which are flickering and unstable. He traces his fingers over the map, frowning as he notices a disturbing pattern.
Barbatos: (to himself) “The fluctuations are growing stronger, converging toward a single point. If this trajectory continues…”
He pauses, his expression darkening.
Barbatos: “…even the combined power of the brothers may not be enough to stop what’s coming.”
The map reveals the convergence point glowing ominously—a location deep within the Devildom that remains unidentified.
#obey me!#obey me shall we date#obeymeswd#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me hcs#obey me fanfic#obey me fic#obey me! shall we date?#obey me fandom#obey me nb#obey me nightbringer#obm nightbringer#obmnb#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#obey me luke#obey me thirteen#obey me raphael#obey me mephistopheles#obey me unofficial season 4 obm nb
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Minghao is THAT type of boyfriend !
This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.
Minghao is effortlessly cool, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his soft spots. He has this way of being so composed and graceful, yet when he’s with you, there’s a subtle shift in him—less polished, more human, in the best way possible. It’s in the way he smiles at you like you’re the most fascinating piece of art he’s ever seen.
He’s the kind of boyfriend who’ll randomly buy you books that remind him of you. Not in an obvious, cliché way—no romance novels here. It’ll be something thoughtful, like a poetry collection or a philosophy book, because of course he’s that deep. He’ll casually say, “I thought you’d like it,” but secretly he’s hoping it’ll spark a conversation. Oh, and he’ll definitely want to hear your interpretation of eveerrrrythingg.
Minghao would have a quiet but sharp sense of humor. It’s not loud or over-the-top; it’s the kind that sneaks up on you. He’ll make a quick-witted remark with that deadpan expression, and it’ll leave you laughing long after the moment has passed. And don’t even get me started on his teasing—it’s all in good fun, but he knows exactly how to press your buttons just enough to make you roll your eyes and laugh at the same time.
Minghao is all about the art of subtle seduction. The way he leans against the doorframe, casually smirking at you; the way he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze; or how he lingers just a little too long when helping you fix your clothes—it’s all calculated. And the way he whispers, his voice low and teasing, when he’s close enough for you to feel his breath? AH MINGHAO!
He’s incredibly attentive, like SCARILY ATTENTIVE. He notices every little thing about you—your habits, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re annoyed, or how you always chew on your pen when you’re deep in thought. And he’ll use that information in the most thoughtful ways, it’s always the little things with him.
Minghao is tactile but in a very specific way. He’s not overly clingy or touchy, but when he does touch you, it’s so intentional that it leaves you reeling. A hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowded room, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, or tracing little patterns on your wrist when you’re sitting together. It’s not about quantity—it’s about the impact. And boy, does he know how to make an impact. (it makes me want to scream!)
Okay, let’s address it—Minghao probably has a bit of a possessive streak. Not in a toxic way, but he’ll give a subtle look if someone seems to be getting too close for comfort. He doesn’t need to say anything because his energy alone is enough to establish boundaries. Honestly, it’s kind of hot.
Oh, and he’s not shy about calling you out when you’re being unreasonable. Minghao has no patience for unnecessary drama, but he’ll do it in the calmest, most rational way possible, leaving you wondering why you even started the argument in the first place. But he’s also not afraid to admit when he’s wrong, and that’s where his maturity truly shines.
Minghao’s love language? Acts of service, hands down. He’s the type to take care of things without making a big fuss about it. Broken zipper? He’s got you. Need advice? He’ll give you the most insightful perspective. I think he’s secretly lived a thousand lives.
That man can absolutely DRESS. Dating Minghao means your couple outfits are always on point, whether you’re matching unintentionally or rocking complementary aesthetics. He’ll probably get you into his whole minimalist-chic vibe, and you won’t even be mad about it. Honestly, how does he make everything look good?
Minghao is lowkey a perfectionist when it comes to the things he’s passionate about, and that includes you. He’s always striving to be the best version of himself for you, but he also encourages you to do the same. He’ll push you just enough to help you see your potential. (and that’s so attractive of him.)
Minghao loves the stillness of being with you, whether it’s sitting in a park watching the clouds or lying in bed with your legs tangled together, neither of you saying much but understanding each other perfectly. That kind of intimacy? Yeah, he’s all about it.
Oh, and when he’s in the mood to be playful? Watch out. Minghao can be unexpectedly cheeky, throwing in sly comments or giving you a teasing smirk that leaves you flustered. And my guy knows exactly what he’s doing, too.
The thing about Minghao is that he’s not loud about his love. It’s not in grand declarations or over-the-top gestures. It’s in the way he quietly supports you, challenges you, and loves you in ways that make you feel seen and understood.
Honestly, Minghao being THAT boyfriend? Pls HELP—I’m not okay.
#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#seventeen#seventeen drabbles#svt drabbles#seventeen headcanons#svt headcanons#minghao seventeen#seventeen minghao#minghao#xu minghao#the8#svt the8#minghao headcanons#scoups seventeen#jeonghan seventeen#joshua seventeen#jun seventeen#hoshi seventeen#wonwoo seventeen#woozi seventeen#mingyu seventeen#seungkwan seventeen#vernon seventeen#dino seventeen#dk seventeen#mylovesstuffs 2025#★— mylovesstuffs
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Protect Me
•🤎🪵🌲🪨•
Summary: Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl, Sam and Dean always tried to protect you but on one hunt the monster takes you and the after math is bad, so they have to call in John
Pairing: Sam Winchester x sister, Dean Winchester x sister, John Winchester x daughter
•Masterlist•
Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl in this family work, I’m only a year younger than Sam but still I felt like a baby compared to them, when Sam went off to school it was just Dean and me and dad took it hard especially on me, he pushed me to work harder all the time and the pressure became overwhelming
Well now he’s missing and it’s just me and my brothers, driving down the interstate to a new mission, this one was a bit out of my league, vampires, they’re strong and I don’t have as much experience with them as Sam and Dean
“Hey you okay back there, you’re pretty quiet” Dean asks as he looks through the rearview mirror
“Oh yeah just nervous”
“Hey we’ll be there the whole time, nothings going to happen to you sis” Sam smiles as he turns back to me
“Do you think we’ll find dad soon?”
“I don’t know kid, soon I hope”
After a bit more driving we made it to the motel and it was time to do some digging on these vampires as Dean came back with take out for supper
“Can I ask you guys something?” I sigh closing a historic book of the town
“Sure what’s up kid” Dean asks as he chows down on a burger
“Do you think dad left because of me?” They both stopped and gave me their full attention
“Why would you say that?” Sam asks giving me his puppy expression
“Well I’m not as good as Dean and he’s been getting more and more angry with me every mission, maybe he just didn’t wanna deal with me anymore, maybe he finally realized I’m just a burden” my bottom lip trembled finally letting out the feelings I’ve been holding in
“Are you nuts? Dad was only being hard because he wanted to make sure you were safe he loves you”
“Yeah you’re his daughter and he’d never leave us like this because of a few mistakes, don’t worry your little head” Sam reach over the table squeezing my shoulder
“Alright” I sigh going back to reading
•
The next day we gathered our supplies and were off to find them finding their small nest was camped out somewhere in the woods, we got out of the impala on a dirt road, getting our weapons ready
“Okay make sure you stay alert, watch eachothers back” Dean states and we start out into the darkening woods
My heart was beating so fast that’s all I could hear, walking behind Dean with Sam behind me, when a cry comes from up ahead and we’re sprinting towards it carefully but not quiet enough
I feel myself being thrown across the damp forest floor until a tree smashed against my back and I’m crumbling on the ground in pain
“Y/N!” Dean and Sam scream as they run towards me but they stop when I’m pulled up from behind by my throat my feet dangling above the ground
“Dean” I gasp as the air burns in my lungs and my vision blurs
“You leave us alone and leave town” the vampire states
“Oh not a chance we’re gonna kill every single one of you” that only angered it as it took my arm and effortlessly snapped it like a twig, I scream wailing in pain
“I won’t ask again”
“Fine fine we’ll go, just stop hurting her” Sam called out desperate
“If you come back again, she’s dead” the vampire hissed before throwing me to my brothers feet and it was gone
My arm felt like it’s been set on fire, my throat hurt so much I could barely breath, my back felt like a thousand knives had been ripping me open
I whine in pain as Sam picks me up, crying into his chest as they run back to the car frantic
“Just hold on we’re going to the hospital you’ll be fine” Sam says as he gently lays me in his lap in the back of the car as Dean puts his foot pedal to the metal driving so fast it was almost nauseating
The pain was all consuming I just want to close my eyes
“Hey you gotta stay awake” Sam says shaking me gently but the darkness took me and I was out
•
The beeping woke me up, opening my eyes to a dimly lit room, the only light coming from the monitor and the hallway
I try to sit up but gasp from the pain, noticing my arm in a cast and a brace around my neck, immediately Sam and Dean woke up from where they were sat in the chairs
“Hey you’re awake how do you feel?” Dean asks as Sam pushes my hair back
I open my mouth trying to answer but nothing comes out except a whine, my throat felt like a machete had been sliced through it as we would a vampire
“Can you talk?” Sam asks worried
I try again but nothing, I shake my head defeated and scared, scared they see I really am useless and they’ll leave me behind, the anxiety is all consuming and I know they can tell I’m upset
“Come on let’s get you back to the motel, just be gentle” they helped me sit up slowly placing me in the wheelchair and wheeling me out to the impala
When we get back to the motel I hobble over to the bathroom my back on fire as I slowly take off the neck brace, revealing the black and blue that covered the entirety of my throat , my eyes red from the burst blood vessels, lifting my shirt I turn seeing my back in the same condition also covered in cuts
“Oh sis, I’m so sorry” Sam came in seeing everything, I pull my shirt back down and make my way over to my bed Dean helping me lay down
“Can we get you anything? I’ll go out and get your favorite food” I reach out and grip his necklace and he knew what I meant he sighed and nodded, we all knew it probably wouldn’t work he hasn’t been answering calls so why would he this time
Dean picked up his phone and called I could faintly hear the voice mail if grown accustom to
“Dad it’s y/n she’s really hurt, she needs you, please if you get this this would be the time to show up” he closed his phone and sat next to me rubbing my leg
“It’ll be okay, you’ve still got us Angel” I nodded before drifting off to sleep again
My dreams are consumed by every hunting mistake I’ve made, everytime dad was mad at me, everytime I let them all down I wake up with a gasp again when I hear the front door slam open, I slowly sit up feeling my shirt rid up and that’s when I hear him, the voice I’ve missed so much
“Oh my baby girl” he comes around the bed and kneels infront of me, taking in my horrific beat up body
“The vampire it got a hold of her before we even saw it” Sam said
“I…..” that’s all I could get out before I was aching with pain keeling over as the waves of pain rolled over me
He took my shoulders and held me close
“This is why I’ve always been so hard on you, cause see you like this kills me, I promised your mother I’d never let anything bad happen to you” he sighed
At least they were all here now
“Maybe she needs to take a break for a while” Dean intervened
“Yeah and I’m not leaving till your better” I nodded feeling a little more relieved finally having my family back together
#supernatural imagine#supernatural one shot#supernatural#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x sister!reader#dean winchester x you#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fluff#john winchester x daughter#john winchester fluff#john winchester imagine
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Happy Word Nerd Day! Meet Some Words We Love
We love words at Duck Prints Press, and we also love that words have a special, dedicated day when we can babble about how much we love them! Last year, we shared some of our favorite words. This year, we focused on words we’ve used in our stories and how we’ve (hopefully correctly!) used them. Contributors were asked to tell us one word they loved, and share with us a sentence from their own work in which they used the word. Ready to meet some cool words? Read on!
besmirch - to cause harm or damage to the purity, luster, or beauty of (something)
“Garbage goals win games,” Brady added. “Do not besmirch the good name of garbage goals.”
Hockey Bois by A. L. Heard
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apoplectic - showing symptoms of apoplexy or stroke
He gasped and screamed, and as he recovered, she [tazed him] a third time, watching him shake apoplectically with a satisfied smile.
A Glimmer of Hope by Nina Waters
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susurrus - a whispering or rustling sound
The susurrus of his voice amplifies and folds in on itself until your name is a knife, and Vash is the carver who fashions your wooden, deadened limbs.
but heaven still holds me by thechaoscryptid
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supple - capable of being bent or folded without creases, cracks, or breaks
Laurel grounded themself with the feel of the books in their hands, the supple thickness of the covers, the pale scent of paper and glue, the quiet of the store around them.
Troubled Trouble by Genevieve Maxwell
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variegated - having discrete markings of different colors
[His tail] glimmers in the moonlight: a dark, variegated green, with shimmering threads of gold swirling along the edges of the scales and fins
on the strangest Sea by MuseofWriting
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azimuth - horizontal direction expressed as the angular distance between the direction of a fixed point and the direction of the object
He says that, since you're in New York, what you'll need to do is find Uranus with your telescope, then turn it about 3° west (or, as he initially put it, 3° back azimuth).
Dear Stupid Penpal by Rascal Hartley
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unmoored - loosened from or as if from moorings
Haruki didn’t know what Akira wanted to hear. He kept smiling. Even now that the drugs had mostly worked their way out of his system and the shakes were mostly done, he felt light-headed. Adrift. Unmoored.
In Good Company by Nicola Kapron
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elytra - one of the anterior wings in beetles and some other insects that serve to protect the posterior pair of functional wings
It slid into space, hardened sections on its back spreading like a beetle’s elytra to reveal the great engines that were its wings.
Sarisa by N. C. Farrell
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Forsooth - in truth
“Oh yes, such a delectable morsel.” Poe held a 3D rendition of the drive in his hand, where it sat easily enough to be hidden in a fist. “Forsooth, I did see its likeness change hands within my halls. You’ll understand, of course, that the identity of the buyer is sacrosanct? They might instill in most people nothing more than a vague disgust and draw the contempt deserved by the lowest of the slubberdegullion, but they are still a guest?”
Chase the Morning by Hermit9
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anserine - of, relating to, or resembling a goose
An alarm goes off, a full-throated anserine metronome complete with lazy red strobes.
Anglerfish by S. J.
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ostensibly - to all outward appearances
Dean blinked and flicked to the contents page, ostensibly looking for the promised hot girls enjoying the summer.
Sunshine Commune by foxymoley
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What its like reading Dracula September 30th-Oct 3rd
#mars rambles#mars bites#dracula#re: dracula#dracula daily#maybe the real villain was the sexism and ableisim we made along the way#Screaming at my book like they can hear me#biting avh/neg#Mina and Jonathan don't worry I'll save you!!!
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I finished the update and can I just. Discord screenshot copy paste
#lilia was a mother who just gave birth in that update okay.#and the way my jaw dropped when I heard Malleus screaming because the senate tore him out of Lilia's grip.#Malleus fought tooth and nail to be in Lilia's arms. Lilia fought for TWO HUNDRED YEARS and fought SO hard just to hear Malleus calling him#and fought so hard to hold him and read him stories and do all the ugly parenting. He was fighting for it#and his shell cracked open and they were together and his SPRITE CHANGE HIS SOBBING SMILING SPRITE#and the senate saw that and thought it was the most repulsive thing to happen in history#that's so personal to me. It's nothing I'll ever go into on this tumblr very deeply but that hit like nothing has before.#to think kids are awful and gross and to realize the reality that they can die and every ugly moment is something so important to fight for#leave me alone leave me alone#Also I cannot stress this enough the fucking BATTLE MAP JESUS CHRIST I WAS DYING IN THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!#so sorry I forgot to tag spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland spoilers
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okay but why is it that literally everywhere that i see people discussing wings of fire, its to criticize it. like, when i dont see art the only stuff i see is people saying how much they hate pretty much every aspect of the books and how tui sucke and how arcs 2 and 3 are horrible and.... like, i get criticising things, even things you like, i mean im no stranger to liking things that have MANY issues, but damn wheres the love?
like, wheres people talking about the things they like about these books without feeling the need to preface it with 'these books are the worst thing ive ever seen'?
do you like the characters? the tribes? the concepts? the worldbuilding? anything?
like. i love these books so much. they definitely have issues because EVERYTHING does but i dont see what other people see that makes them act like these books are atrocious.
are people just ashamed to like a kids series or something? i just dont get it.
idk, maybe its just what the internet has given me, and there is a side of the fandom that manages to have discussions about these books that arent just acting like they hate them, id love to know how to get there.
i just dont get being in a fandom and acting like you despise the very thing that brought you there.
#my post#if you wanna be like 'what? you cant criticise the things you like?'#i want you to know THAT I LIKE WORLD OF WARCRAFT. THERE ARE MANY THINGS ABOUT THAT GAME THAT PISS ME OFF!!!!!#there is literally a species that is an outright caricature of a minority.#by all accounts i really shouldnt like that game. and yet i find myself drawn to it and i find things that are actually good despite that#i LOVE the large very explorable maps. i love the many species and the customization. i love the way every species has unique architecture#and even though its messy and i dont know most of it: the complicated and very long lore and story and all that is impressive nonetheless#and even just the environmental storytelling alone....#i got off track. my point was that you can dislike something and still find things to talk about loving in it#and idk im just sick of seeing EVERYONE hate this thing that i love. i love the wof books so so much#i thought we were all here because we love them....#wings of fire#also the caricature in wow is of a group i belong to im not like. ignoring a different groups issue. if anything im ignoring my own#but i dont ignore it!!! i think about it a lot actually!!!!! but no one is there to hear me scream lol. anyway thats still irrelevant#wof
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Why is being a living exisiting human being so very confusing 🙃
#my brain is genuinely the worst place on planet earth ahaha!!#anyways the story that is bringing this on is actually nice i suppose but im exhausted so. let me just get into it and perhaps the dilemna#will make itself more aparant.#basically i hate interacting with people. its exhausting. like genuinely just takes so much brain power and social battery from me. even for#simple things. anyways so im telling someone this in my usual jokey way “im being tortured and kept outside of my home where i could be#chilling with a book“ so the other person is like oh you cant stay inside forever and ever. but then goes on to say from interacting with me#theyd never have guessed that i have such a hard time with talking and hanging out with people. that i never make someone feel like im tired#them or dont wanna talk to them etc. and internally im screaming because like. that is something i stress out so much about because i strugg#le so much with my responses and tone etc etc. thats why its so exhausting for me because im just constantly focussed on what im Supposed to#be like. the other part of me was kind of pleased in a way because i feel so painfully awkward that it stresses me out that people can see#right through me and think that i hate them when its not that i just. hate human interaction because its so tiring. so hearing that was like#oh so no one can even tell and i am stressing. for nothing. dw though this info will not help my brain learn to stop stressing out though#lmao. anyways final point i suppose is that the person also says that even if i am 'awkward' i sort of use it to my advantage and it doesnt#come across in an unsavoury way. anyways idk what to do with all this info. because the way i feel on the inside is so. and i worry a lot#about people seeing that on the outside. but part of me sort of wants it too because i just feel like absolutely no one fucking knows me?#and while i guess that was maybe my goal i also hate it? i shall rb a quote after this. anyways. idk what im saying. i dont fucking know. im#just so tired. so fucking tired.#le text post
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desperately trying not to have a panic attack about university hehehe
#literally the only thing i'm supposed to do is study#am i doing it? nope of course. i have less than a month left to take exams and i should take at least 2 but i haven't opened a book in more#than a month and the thought fills me with dread and i literally physically cannot do it#it's possible that going back to my uni flat would help (it would be a change in scenery for sure) but on wednesday it will be a year since#my father died and there's this fucking church thing and my mother won't force me to stay but i really should. shouldn't i?#after all it's already saturday and i've already wasted 40 days. what's half a week more?#i keep staring at the list of exams and i know that if i spent every waking second studying i could get back on track and graduate when i'm#supposed to graduate but 1. it's not healthy and 2. my brain refuses to study for ONE exam let alone 14 so it's unrealistic#and at this point i should just accept that i'm going to graduate one year late and one year after all my friends because last year i did#absolutely nothing. and last autumn started out great. i moved. i was organised. and then the first week of october my mother was at the#hospital and i had to go home for a week and somehow i let that week screw up my entire semester#and now i'm panicking because i have only 18 days before the exam i'm supposed to take and it doesn't feel enough for everything i have to#study but it's not going to get better if i just let all the days pass without doing anything but i can't i can't i can't#so yeah i should be kind to myself and accept i'll need one additional year for all the exams and take it slowly which is the only way to#actually get things done. but i don't want to. i don't want to tell my mother that i failed at the one thing i'm supposed to be doing#but i really really can't it's hard and i'm failing and my head is screaming that i don't deserve hobbies and yet i keep wasting my days#it's one am and i should either sleep or relax because it's not like i can do anything now and yet i feel like i need to fix my entire life#right this second or i'll explode. i'm so tired of my thoughts.#please ignore all this ^ because i know most of it is irrational or whatever and i DON'T WANT to hear rational things#if you've read until here and really want to say something just tell me that right now i'm allowed to relax#any other comment would make me feel worse#💖💖💖#**one month left to take exams this semester not forever hahaha but then i'd be supposed to take all the remaining exams in the summer#and i can't possibly take 14 exams between now and july which is why i'm panicking (there are other logistically confusing things in what i#said but i wanted to clear this one up at least lmao) (i'm already feeling vaguely better can't you see?)
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Winter's Chance
Summary: It's Rafe's turn to have your son for the weekend, but it seems the weather wants you to spend the holidays together.
--Finally some Baby Daddy Rafe
With delicate rubs to your son's tummy, you desperately tried to get him to calm down with soft pleads and overeager soothing. He'd been fussing all day, so much that you'd called the doctor to make sure everything was okay.
They simply reassured you that it may just be a prolonged stage of fussiness. Most babies grow out of it around 4 months which is exactly where Max had just reached a few weeks ago.
Just when he was finally beginning to calm for a moment your ears are filled with the chime of your doorbell. Max picks up his crying as if he had never stopped. Your eyes roll, already knowing who is on the other side of the door.
You gently scooped him up to rest over your shoulder on top of the little binkie you tend to have thrown over your shoulder at all times for moments like this. He was cute, but the spit-up was never pretty and you were always prepared.
Opening the door from a distance you weren't expecting to see Rafe step in partially covered in snow. It distracted you momentarily before Max's cries cut through the shock.
"I know, I know." You whine, gently rocking him, backing away from the cold air that swept against your feet. "Hurry up, and close the door." His eyes roll, "Hello to you too." He closes the door and stomps off the snow from his boots before stepping out of them and hanging up his jacket.
"Woah, woah, what are you doing? This is just a pick-up, then you can have fun trying to calm him down at your place." Rafe stands still, his thumb gesturing to the door behind him, "You haven't seen the news, have you? They're closing the roads, so we're snowed in. The only reason I made it here is because of the suspension on my truck."
Your face turns sour and Max continues to cry.
"So why did you come in the first place if you knew you wouldn't be able to make it back?" He ignores your question for the most part, "Relax, baby. As excited as you are to see me, I didn't come for you. I came for my son. There he is," Rafe's expression lights up as he reaches for Max and takes him out of your hold.
"Rafe you can't just take him and expect him to calm-"
For the first time in seven hours, silence consumes the room. No more screams and tearful cries. "You've got to be fucking with me," You don't say it loudly, but Rafe still hears.
"Guess he was just missin' his daddy, huh? Isn't that right, Max?" Rafe's tone is playful as he pokes at Max's tummy which elicits tiny giggles and the brightest smile you'd seen all day.
You walk away, headed towards the kitchen. Not sure why you were moving so fast, Rafe was hot on your heels. "It's not your fault, it's probably just been a long day-" He finally shuts the fuck up with his smug remarks when he hears a soft cry, "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue, tender and sweet. "Baby, what's wrong?" Effortlessly, he supports Max with one hand while he reaches to turn you so you're facing him.
Your eyes are filled with tears, lips quivering ever so slightly and he knows what's coming. He's seen you like this more times than he can count. He takes you under his arm, your cheek pressed to his chest and you break down, muttering into the fabric of his hoodie.
He comforts you with a big hand rubbing your back, soothing you the way he learned from those parenting books that he swear he never read. "It's so hard, Rafe." Is all you manage to say through broken cries for the first five minutes before you're pushing off him, expression more angry than upset? "He was crying all day, and the second you walk in, he's perfectly fine."
Rafe's lips frown, puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?--"
"Yes! Why do you get to be Superman?!" Earlier, the sound of a pin drop would disturb Max from calming, but now even your exclamations left him unfazed, as long as he was in Rafe's arms he was unbothered.
As a matter of fact, with a second glance, you notice he'd actually fallen asleep. Just Perfect. Another win for Superman.
He chuckles, leading you both to have a seat on the couch. Your son sleeping soundly in his father's hold. "Well, I think I've got the abs for it." His shit-eating grin spreads across his lips.
"You try carrying a baby in your stomach for nine months, and you tell me if you still have abs after." Subtly, his tongue wets his lips at the memory, "All I remember is how good you looked pregnant. Shit, wanna do it again?" You'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly.
"You're lucky you're holding my son." He scoffs, leaning in slightly as if to speak away from the baby. "I seem to remember the two of us going half on the conception, and a few times after that." You air-swat him and stand, making your way for the stairs. "I'm going to take a nap."
The hours flew by as you finally had your first uninterrupted nap in what felt like years. By the time you woke up, the sun was long gone, and there was a thick layer of fresh snow sitting on your window pane. You headed downstairs and stopped at the bottom of the steps to appreciate the view.
Nothing melted you quite like the sight of Rafe taking care of Max. You hated to admit it, but he was a good dad. A really good one. Hot, too. Rafe held the bottle to Max's lips, murmuring some undistinguishable babbles with a soft smile. Surely speaking a language only the two of them can understand.
"I hope you warmed the bottle before you gave it to him." You say, and he finally notices you standing by the stairs, stalking your way over and sitting beside him.He ignores you, knowing that you're just trying to get under his skin. "You look well rested." He remarks and you sigh with a soft nod. "Yeah, I am actually." He grins to himself, "Must be a miracle to sleep well on that cheap-ass mattress you got up there."
"Sorry, we can't all have premium mattresses." Rafe pulls the bottle back once he realizes Max has had his fill. "Y'know my money is your money right? I give you ten thousand a month but everything I have is yours, too." Standing him up on his lap first, Rafe holds the baby over his shoulder, gently patting his back.
"Well, I don't need to live in a fifteen thousand sq ft house to be happy unlike you." He shakes his head slowly, his gaze falls on you, somber. "I seem happy to you? I don't give a shit how big my place is. It's always going to be empty without you two in it... " He trails off, alluding there's more to come.
"Rafe.. What are you saying?"
"Move in with me, again." Your head shakes before you sputter profuse denials, "No, Rafe, we can't we tried that before remember? We don't get along. Technically, we're not even together." The conversation is briefly interrupted by a small gurgled burp on Max's behalf.
Rafe leans down to place a drowsy Max in his rocker in front of the couch before sitting back up. "Things were different then, we were eighteen. I can't do the back-and-forth anymore. Don't you wanna wake up in the morning, see that Max is taken care of and I'm making you breakfast, then we go back to bed and I take care of you? Huh?" He hums, his voice igniting sparks along the length of your neck as he nosed along it.
"Rafe.." your voice is shaky, feeling the heat from the discussion.
"Whadd'ya say, hm?" You reflect, having Rafe stay with you today, in just a few short hours you'd been able to take a break, he held you when you cried like he always did. You'd hardly even fought. Though that was no surprise, the two of you fought considerably less ever since Max came into the picture.
"Okay, yes." You can feel the lines from his smile stretch against your jaw just before he begins to pepper kisses on your cheek. "Y'know, we made the world's cutest baby ever right?" You smile, both your gazes focused on the little one before you.
"He's got your eyes, for sure." Rafe states and you giggle, "You're just saying that because they're brown." He sits up straight, heartfully disagreeing. "I'm not. They're the same eyes that I fell in love with when I first laid my eyes on you, and the same ones that humbled me when they looked up at me for the first time in the NICU."
His words were touching. You're seeing a whole new side of him. Not the usually hot-headed and impulsive man you were used to. This one was sweeter, softer, and more sincere.
You reeled him in for the first kiss, his lips soft as they pressed against yours, his hands confidently holding you at your waist. "Ah, I see you're taking me up on my previous offer. Let's go for a girl this time, yeah?" He grins, and you pinch him.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe drabble#outer banks smut#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#bsf!rafe#rafe cameron drabble#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey smut#drew starkey#obx fic#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#dilf rafe cameron#dilf rafe#baby daddy rafe
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hi my love i’m obsessed with all your works and this is my first request!
poly! marauders and cuteness aggression. like maybe reader coming home a bit tipsy from girls night and just seeing her boys and losing it. grabbing remus’ face and just kissing all over his cheeks, gnawing on james’ biceps and playing with sirius’ hair or tracing his tattoos.
Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!
cw: alcohol
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 589 words
You leave a trail of things down the hallway that you swear you’ll pick up in the morning. Your bag, both shoes, your jacket. There’s no time to put any of it in its proper place, not when you know your boyfriends are all cozy and waiting for you in your bed. Everything else is secondary.
The moment you get your eyes on them, it’s already too much. Remus is reading while Sirius chats to a nearly-asleep James, and you don’t know whether to scream or hug them or burst into tears. One feels more socially acceptable than the rest.
A grin spreads over Sirius’ face as you crawl clumsily up the bed, so you go to him first.
“Hi, baby.” You smear a kiss over his lips, burrowing your hands in his lovely, silken hair. It smells like his conditioner, smokey and heady and just slightly sweet. You wish you could snort it up into your nose like a drug.
“Hi, baby,” Sirius says back at you, amused. “Did you have a good night?”
“No,” you lament, though you think you might have enjoyed it at the time.
Impulsively, you move to Remus, clambering across James to get on your quietest boyfriend’s lap. He’s already set down his book, so there are no barriers to your whims as you take his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks up and kissing them all over. You think you can hear the other boys laughing somewhere beyond your lovesick haze. Remus’ skin grows warmer with each ardent press of your lips.
“None of you were there,” you go on. It’s impossible to articulate the full extent of this injustice. “You were here, being so lovely and perfect and lovely without me.”
“That’s lovely twice.” Remus seems to recover somewhat from your surprise attack. His hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, a touch just for touch’s sake. “How much have you had, dove?”
You make a petulant, whiny sound, burying your face in his neck. There will never be enough of them, your lovely boyfriends. Or maybe it’s that they’re enough, but you just can’t get enough. Regardless. You’re doomed to remain just on the brink of satisfaction.
“Enough to know that I missed you a lot,” you say pitifully.
“Awe, babydoll.” James’ laughter is at odds with his compassionate tone. “Come here, m’love.”
This sounds like a grand idea to you. You wish they’d simply all squish together so you could lay your affections on them one by one, in rounds.
James puckers his lips as you approach, readying for a kiss, and so is taken entirely aback when you forgo his face entirely.
“Oh, well,” he says as you suck a hickey on his bicep. “I feel properly objectified.”
You’re too pleased with yourself to be sorry. He flexes playfully, eliciting a string of giggles from you as you latch on tighter.
“Do you think she’s been drugged?” you hear Remus ask.
“Dunno.” James’ tone is fond. His big hand lands on the back of your head.
“No, I sort of get it,” says Sirius. The mattress dips slightly, and then you feel him plant a wet kiss on your shoulder. “You just need to get it out of your system, yeah, sweetness?”
You hum in affirmation. You wrap your arms around James’ middle, squeezing tight.
“I love you so much,” you mumble into his skin. “I’m gonna kill you.”
Your boyfriend’s frame rumbles with laughter. “Okay, lovie,” he says indulgently. “You go right ahead.”
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders oneshot#poly!marauders one shot#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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