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vettelsvee · 3 days ago

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LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE | Sebastian Vettel

High School History Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is stressed because his students did pretty bad in their latest History exam, but he gets more stressed and grumpy when Y/N, the cutest Primary School teacher according to Seb, arrives to the teacher's lounge to "annoy" him, but the truth is that there's more than that ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE THE OTHER DAY!

WORD COUNT: 3099

WARNINGS: LOTS OF GRUMPY (Seb) X SUNSHINE (Reader), some bad words, cursing, nothing else but wait till the end because I assure you you're gonna love it!

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @vampsarereal @gracie23x @cutelittlefakejourneys @scopeiguess @hoziersfrancesca

VEE'S NOTES: I ABSOLUTELY adored writing this, and I hope you like it as much as I do! This goes all the way up to the top of my fave fics written by me. Also, a toast to you because you liked all this Teacher!Seb thing a lot 🥹 I'd love to read your opinions on this, so feel free to leave me a comment, an anon message or reblogging since it helps us creators a lot. Thank you so much for reading, and hope you like it! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

“How can you say that World War II ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall? My God...”

“It makes no sense at all, but if you ask whoever told you that, they’ll give you a convincing enough answer to make you pass their exam.”

Sebastian lifted his head, even though he didn't need to in order to know who was speaking.

Y/N Y/L/N, the second-grade teacher who is the pure representation of the sunshine itself. Your smile, always revealing your teeth, and your energy, isn’t exactly contagious to him, and even sometimes that'd be enough to make someone want to throw up.

You were standing in front of him, holding an absurd amount of papers. Seb couldn't avoid looking at you. No matter how much you might irritate him at times, he found you more than fascinating. He admired you in every single aspect and, somehow, that made him pretty angry with himself. You took the opportunity to silently show him some drawings of bees. Bees. Happy bees. Sad bees. Damn it, there were even bees wearing party hats and surrounded by confetti, and other baking and having coffee.

Sebastian said nothing. Instead, he ignored you and continued grading exams, but you didn't take it personally since you know how stressed he had to be with his class.

It didn't take long before a series of increasingly loud bangs started to get on his nerves.

When he looked up again, he saw you struggling with the printer, which seemed to have decided not to work.

“Why is it that every time I come here, this stupid, useless piece of junk decides to stop working?” you huffed, nearly shouting. “It’s like… like it’s out to get me!”

“Maybe it’s because you make too many copies every week,” Vettel replies.

“I have to give my students a quality education, Seb. And a quality education includes, among other things, making as many copies as I need to teach the contents properly!”

“And does your quality education include printing an entire colony of bees?”

You shrugged, offering no further explanation. Instead, you grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it until it was next to Sebastian. To his utter surprise, you sat down beside him, placing your absurdly thick stack of papers on top of the ungraded exams.

If you didn’t leave in the next few seconds, Seb swore he'd have a heart attack.

“My kids need all of this, Seb,” you said again, showing him those ridiculous drawings once more. “They’re learning about pollination, and what better way than by coloring little bees and then putting them all over the classroom to represent how they work?”

“I’m currently questioning whether I’m a complete failure as a teacher so, to be completely honest with you, the last thing I need right now is you showing me this... nonsense.”

You scoffed, knowing he didn’t mean it. He was just too stressed. His students failing with embarrassingly low grades didn’t mean his skills as a teacher were declining, but it did mean he’d have an army of parents breathing down his neck, demanding explanations for why their children’s performance was so poor.

“Stop saying things like that!” You smacked his shoulder, and his patience wore even thinner when he noticed a red pen mark on the exam he was grading. One that, knowing all too well his students and their thoughts, they’d probably say looked like a penis.

“You’re not a failure. Teenagers are just… idiots.”

“Is that your opinion as a professional in the education field?2

“Of course!” you shouted, waving your hands dramatically. “Why do you think I teach Primary school? Little kids are way cuter, and they think I’m a genius just because I can spell difficult words without getting any help.”

Seb tried not to, but a small smile started creeping onto his face. He quickly bit his lower lip and shifted in his seat, attempting to maintain his composure even though sitting next to you made him more nervous and, especially, more entertained, than he would have liked to admit.

“Look at you! I made you smile!”

“If I admit that you're almost funny, will you leave me alone?”

“Let me think about it… No.”

Sebastian didn’t even get a chance to answer before you suddenly jumped out of your chair and rushed toward the printer again.

“I just remembered why I came here! Oh my god, why do I have to be sooooooo forgetful?”

“I suppose that’s to make my life more miserable,” the German replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s just a bonus, Seb,” you turned to him, still smiling. “So, yeah, this printer isn’t working because… Well, I don’t know why. But I really need to make these copies, so I guess I’ll have to go back to the Primary school teachers' lounge…”

Sebastian stared at you, unsure of what to say.

Was he misunderstanding things because of stress, or he understood that you had actually walked all the way to the High School section, which was not anywhere near the Primary one, just to make copies, despite having a perfectly good printer in your own area?

“Did you come all the way from the Primary section to the High School one just for… some photocopies?”

“Yes!” you nodded enthusiastically.

“You're perfectly aware that there's a much better printer over there, right?”

“Well, that’s debatable if you consider…”

“Y/N, cut the bullshit.”

You pressed your lips together, unsure of how to tell him that your free period, and your desire to see him, was the real reason you had come all this way, even if it had earned you a few questioning looks and whispered comments from some of your colleagues in the upper grades.

“Well… Maybe I also decided to come here to see you,” you admitted.

Vettel had no idea how to reply to that. He tried to think of something friendly and lighthearted, but his stress seemed to take over before he could filter his words.

“I'm this close to kicking you out, Y/N.”

You only laughed, placing a dramatic hand over your chest and letting out a fake gasp. Seb loved when you acted like this, but right now, he hated it more than ever.

“Oh, please, you wouldn’t dare. I’m your favorite person out of all the people in this school.”

“Funny, because right now you happen to be exactly the opposite,” he muttered.

“You didn’t mean that. I know you didn’t.”

Seb shook his head and buried himself back in grading exams. Of course, he hadn’t meant it. No one was perfect, but somehow, you came pretty damn close without even trying.

“Stop making that weird face, or you’re going to get wrinkles ahead of time,” you teased. By now, you had sat back down beside him and were carefully cutting out flower-shaped drawings with impressive precision.

“You are insufferable, Y/N, really,” Vettel shot back as he meticulously corrected a student's answer about the causes of World War II.

“And yet, you still haven’t told me to shut up.”

Seb frowned. He wanted to do it. He should do it. But he couldn’t. You were too kind to him for him to snap at you… just like what was happening now.

He cursed himself mentally and swore that, from now on, he would grade exams at home to avoid this kind of altercation. Though, deep down, he also knew he would do it because, maybe, it would give him a little more time to spend with you.

Suddenly, you moved closer to him, too close, and took his chin. Your eyes locked, and for a few seconds, neither of you could say anything, let alone voice everything running through your minds about each other.

“You need a break, Seb.”

Your hand instinctively moved to his cheek, caressing it with a kind of affection that neither of you expected. He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, but his heart only pounded faster and faster, and he couldn’t see it as anything other than a betrayal of his feelings for you.

“Why do you always have to be a threat to me, Y/N?”

You simply smiled before leaving a kiss on his cheek and standing up.

“You can keep pretending all you want, but you know you love it,” you said, grabbing your things and heading toward the door, though not before turning back to him.

Sebastian knew exactly what you meant by doing that. He let out a deep sigh and carefully gathered all the exams, placing them in his briefcase along with his pencil case and phone.

“If I go with you wherever you’re going, do you promise to shut up?”

“Nop, there’s no way I’m doing that,” you replied cheerfully, taking his arm the moment he was beside you and dragging him out of the teachers’ lounge with no real destination in mind.

The German was beyond exhausted. He felt his head throbbing more than usual, which he knew was a sign of an oncoming migraine. He felt drained, frustrated, and more plagued by imposter syndrome than ever. It wasn’t the first time he’d had bad results on an exam, but it was the first time they had been this awful.

He decided not to dwell on it and did his best to push his intrusive thoughts aside, focusing instead on the woman beside him.

You couldn’t stop talking. First, you told him about how your kids, as you called your second-grade students, had made Christmas cards for you and even brought you a gift after the holidays. Then, you talked about how, today, your favorite student (because, according to you, yes, teachers had favorites) had dropped a piece of her sandwich on the floor, and you had to give her your own breakfast but it was worth it since she was more than happy to be having Ms. Y/L/N handmade cheesecake.

Now, you had launched into an explanation of the biodiversity project you were preparing for your students, focusing specifically on the importance of bees in the ecosystem. You even showed him some pictures of what you had been working on at home because you wanted it to turn out so well that you couldn’t just work on it during school hours.

“So…” you said after finishing your explanation. “What do you think about my project so far?”

Sebastian kept walking, trying to process the flood of information you had just given him in such a short time. While some of the pictures looked like pure chaos, something completely opposite to him, the embodiment of perfection, he had to admit that it was good. Really good, actually.

“Well… it looked fun,” he admitted.

“Are you serious!?” you squealed, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

He gave you a shy smile.

“Yes, of course, I mean it.”

“Oh, look at him! Grumpy Seb handing out compliments so easily!” you shouted again, now bouncing on your feet, earning a few disapproving looks from the teachers passing by. “This calls for me to get you a coffee!”

“Y/N, I don’t feel like having coffee. I already had one this morning, and I don’t think it’s the best idea, considering how nervous I—”

“That’s nonsense!” you interrupted, marching toward the Primary school section. “You’re going to have coffee with me, no matter what, and you’re going to thank me because I’m convinced my coffee is way better than that vending machine garbage you drink daily.”

“I’ll thank you the day not a single one of my students fails one of my exams,” he told you.

The Primary school teachers' lounge was empty when you both walked in. You didn’t say much, just offered Seb a seat and told him to make himself at home while you headed to your locker. The German pulled out the stack of exams once again, ready to continue grading them, if you didn’t annoy him again. As he kept marking the papers, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Not only were you making him a cup of coffee, but you also seemed to be decorating it. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, you were writing something on a piece of paper.

When you returned, you placed the mug in front of him. It had “Bee positive” written on it, and it was decorated, of course, with a little bee making a heart with its tiny hands. As if that wasn’t enough, you had somehow managed to create an impressive amount of cream, topped with a smiley face that looked like it had been made with cinnamon.

Then, as you took a seat beside him, you slid a note his way, the one he assumed you had been writing earlier.

“Even if you’re having a gray day, remember that you can always make the sun shine! Sincerely, your very own little Miss Sunshine,” followed by a heart and, unsurprisingly, a bunch of smiley faces.

He didn’t know what to say. His eyes, however, when they met yours, seemed to say everything.

“You know, maybe all you need is just a new approach.”

Your sudden change of topic, spoken as you took another bite of your chocolate cupcake, threw him off a little. But he preferred it over the uncomfortable silence you both knew was bound to settle in.

“I’ve already tried, Y/N.”

“Have you tried bribing them?”

Seb narrowed his eyes, impressed and clearly not convinced by what you had just suggested.

“I’m not going to bribe my students, Y/N.”

“Not even by making them work in teams and offering extra credit?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “Have you considered bringing cookies and handing them out? That works incredibly great as a positive reinforcement, trust me”

“I’m not giving my students cookies or anything else,” Seb stated firmly. “I don’t know what to do with them, and that’s what worries me the most. What if I start acting like, no offense, a Primary school teacher, when they’re only two years away from university?”

You shook your head. It annoyed you that Sebastian was so… rigid, so unwilling to change. But what annoyed you even more was that you couldn’t seem to find the right way to help him.

“If you help me with the biodiversity project and actively participate in it, I promise I’ll find a way to make sure all your kids pass the remaining exams this year,” you proposed.

“And what exactly does a primary school teacher know about teenagers and History?”

“First of all, stop being so grumpy with me… I’m just trying to help you!” You huffed, crossing your arms. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and honestly, neither were you. Sebastian straightened in his seat, a bit uncomfortable. “Second, I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve, but I’m not sharing them until you agree with helping me with the project.”

“Y/N…”

“What is it? What you don’t like: bees, seven-year-olds, or me?"

“I don’t like bees that much, I love being around little kids, and I’m completely captivated by you.”

That was what Sebastian wanted to say. Instead, he stayed silent, absentmindedly playing with the coffee spoon while staring at the note you had written for him.

“You do realize how many exams I still have to grade, right?” was all he managed to reply.

“Seb, you need to relax. I’ve told you before, but I’ll keep saying it as many times as necessary until you actually listen to me.”

“I can’t relax,” Vettel muttered, furrowing his brows. “Do you have any idea how painful it is to read that…?”

You didn’t let him time to finish speaking. You approached him faster than you’d planned, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. At first, Seb was completely caught off guard, but then he placed his right hand on your neck, pulling you closer and making sure the contact between you didn’t break.

Sebastian wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner, while you were more than happy to finally have the courage to take the initiative, especially since it seemed like your work crush was responding with a lot of enthusiasm.

The lack of air forced you to pull away. You readjusted yourself in your seat and couldn’t help but laugh when you saw your lipstick smeared all over Seb’s mouth.

“Did you just…?” Seb tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Yes, and I don’t mind doing it again,” you kissed him once again, but this time it was shorter. “Sebastian Vettel, I need you to stop worrying about those fucking exams and take a break.”

Now, Sebastian couldn’t stop smiling, and that’s exactly when you knew you had won that battle.

“You’re so lucky you’re too cute and beautiful and you’re keeping me at my feet somehow, because I swear I wouldn’t stop talking and be annoying just for you to shut me up by kissing me.”

Your eyes lit up at his tease, and your mouth opened in surprise at what Seb had just confessed.

“Sorry, did you just call me cute and beautiful, and also say you want me to shut you up by kissing you?” you pressed him.

Seb didn’t know what to say. His cheeks started to turn red out of embarrassment.

“If I’d known this was going to happen between us, I should’ve asked you to work together waaaay sooner!” you shouted, jumping up in excitement and sitting on his lap. If he hadn’t grabbed you tightly around the waist and balanced the chair, you would’ve ended up on the floor. “Say it again, come on!”

“No way I’m repeating that, Y/N.”

“Please, Seb,” you pouted, then kissed him all over his face. “Just one more time, please…”

“No.”

“Please…”

“Y/N…”

“Seeeeeeebastian.”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” Seb started, “but, somehow, you’re also my very own Little Miss Sunshine.”

You smiled brightly at his words, but you knew this wouldn’t be the end of things between you.

“I’m not your Little Miss Sunshine yet. At least, not officially,” you teased.

“Oh, really?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll be when you finally have the courage to ask me on a date,” you replied cheerfully, wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him once more. “I’ve taken the first step and kissed you not once, but twice, so now it’s your turn. We’ve got to work as a team, Seb. Haven’t you learned that all these years working as a teacher?”

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venuslarkspur · 20 hours ago

Note

Can I please request a teen female reader (15-17?) who’s entered the games to help her family, like all the responsibilities have fallen to her after her dads death 🥺💕(ANY CHARACTERS WILL DO) ILY UR PINK HAIR FIC AS WELL)

Playtime’s Over.

Pairing(s): Squid Game Characters meet Fem!Teen!Reader, (ALL PLATONIC). Contains: Thanos, Se-Mi, Kang Dae Ho, Seong Gi Hun, Cho Hyun Ju, Park Gyeong Seok.

Summary: Them just doting on Teen Reader and wanting to protect her!

Note: This can be read as gender neutral as well! I didn’t really go out of the way to make it female looking back. NOT PROOFREAD I COULD NOT BE ARSED

Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of eating, VIOLENCE, family problems.

Thanos

- He immediately takes a liking to you and can straight away tell you’re not actually 18. (I’m with the firm belief this man would have a soft spot for kids)

- Forces the rest of the group to refer to you as “yeodongsaeng” (or little just sister) and it makes you feel loved, even though you know he’s full of shit , kids see everything.

- You swear that sometimes he thinks you’re his actual sister, with the way he acts towards you; others in the game constantly think you’re actual siblings.

- Nearly gives you some of his drugs before he remembers your age and tells you to scram and do your homework.

- Doesn’t let Nam-Gyu shit talk you, would sooner slap him on the head than let him do that, and firmly reminds him you’re his younger sister now as well. That thought of being his sister made you want to vomit, but you wouldn’t mind Thanos being your brother though.

- Bonding over your father’s not being around anymore! Even though your circumstances are very different.

- When 2 players are called In mingle. He hesitates, despite the drugs running through his system; he shouts at Nam-Gyu to go with Min-Su while he drags you into a nearby room. Dumbfounded you still were, as he picked you first.

- You had found someone, despite his countless flaws and bullshit. There was still someone, until there wasn’t anymore. And you were left alone again.

Se-Mi

- You’re the only one she’s letting call her ‘unnie’, very protective of you even before knowing your true age.

- If you need a distraction she will let you play with one of her rings while she asks you how school is and how you are doing.

- Very torn when she hears you’re providing for a whole family by yourself, wants to be there for you. Since you’re a kid with no parents to guide you here.

- Would give you her milk carton and egg. She doesn’t want it anyway just take it!

- Lets you trail after her like a duckling.

- Isn’t afraid to tell anyone to leave you alone if you’re getting picked on.

- Has an epiphany when she realised the reason your so good at the games is because it probably hasn’t bee long since you played them on the school courtyard :(

- Protects you in mingle, even though she knows she won’t always be able to keep you safe. But it ended up being her you failed to save.

Kang Dae-Ho

- Was the first person to jump in and help you when you were getting abused by one of the other players, an older man that you had pickpocketed quite recently; naturally, he longed for his revenge, firmly punching your stomach, you fell to the ground immediately; he grabbed your hair and before he could land a blow on your face another player stepped in.

- “Leave the kid alone.” Another man, younger this time whose number read “388” had jumped in to defend you. The older man backed off slightly, but still felt the need to verbally attack you. “You know this little bitch?” He spat out, locking eyes with you. “This kid stole cash from me!” He screamed pointing an accusatory finger at you. You weren’t denying, you hanged your head in guilt; even if you explained your circumstances, he wouldn’t care. “Maybe she did, but shes just a defenceless kid,, lay off.” and with that the stingy man trotted away, maintaining eye contact with you.

- Player 388 had checked up on you after that, since that day you were overly attached to him. Trailing after him, he didn’t mind at all not one bit. He told you he actually had several older sisters and it was nice to have a younger one for a change.

- He respects your strength and perseverance more than anyone, having to provide for an entire family when you’re just a kid yourself is TIRING work and unimaginable for him.

- Encourages you to make your own choices, like don’t pick “O” or “X” just because he did.

- Makes sure you are one of the first prioritised during mingle, he saw what happened to Young-Mi and couldn’t live with himself if the same happened to you. You do a lot of hand holding after what happened to Young Mi; he’s scared to let go.

- He hates seeing how little hope there is in your eyes for someone so young, it’s his personal mission to make you feel hope again.

Seong Gi-Hun

- Even though he’s kind of in his depressed era rn, all he sees when he looks at you is his daughter staring back at him. Acknowledges straight away that you’re only a bit older than her.

- It takes you a while to catch on, but you eventually realise why he’s protective of you. His own daughter wasn’t around anymore is the conclusion you came to, where she is or if she is you don’t know. Only that he must not see her anymore.

- scolds you quite a lot, telling you that you shouldn’t even be here anyway. That instead you should be doing your homework or studying for your next exam.

- When the cameras watch he has to distance himself from you, he doesn’t want the Frontman to know of his now emotional connection with you.

- You remind him of Sae-Byeok in an odd way.

- Would never forgive yourself if you died, you’d constantly be on his mind.

Cho Hyun Ju

- I can’t lie she initially tries to stay clear of you, she knows if she gets too attached and you die, she won’t be able to live with herself.

- But she can’t seem to get rid of you, you follow her around like a baby duck.

- You, Her and Young-Mi become like a sisterhood, she’s the oldest and you’re the baby of the group. You both call her ‘unnie’

- Young Mi gives you her food and Hyun Ju follows along and passes you some milk. Because you need it to be “big and strong”

- She has so many questions about how you ended up in here. Where are your parents? What are your family doing if you’re here? Shouldn’t you be in school?

- When Young Mi dies she gets very protective of you, she’s not losing you as well.

Park Gyeong-Seok

- Projection!!! He’s missing his daughter, you’re missing your dad! The perfect duo.

- On a serious note he hates how attached he is to you.

- You joined his group in the 2nd game and you played Flying Stone. He knows something was off about you, even putting on a tough exterior you seemed so childlike. When you confess your actual age he’s horrified, he didn’t want to believe it. How on earth are you in debt?

- He can’t believe you’re providing for a whole family. He struggles just providing for his daughter.

- Encourages you to hit “X”, trust me you don’t want to die here, you can’t help your family from your grave.

- If you seem a little hungry he offers you his food.

- You’re attached by the hip during mingle, you never left his side.

- He comforts you during the riot in lights out. Cradling your body, and running his hands through your hair to calm you down; wondering if this is how he’d hold his own daughter if she were here.

- You beg him not to go with the others in the revolt, he almost doesn’t. And later he’d wish he didn’t.

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persevereforahappyending · 3 days ago

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A Legacies Regret |5|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Rader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.9k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The entire car ride you couldn’t help but think about what just happened. You didn’t have a problem with Tara punching Gale, you honestly enjoyed that and were even glad it happened in front of an audience and cameras. That had been the first time you had seen Gale in months, and she didn’t even so much as look at you. You couldn’t blame her, you were the one that told her you wanted nothing to do with her, if anything she was doing exactly as you asked.

You weren’t sure how much Tara knew, you didn’t like to talk about it, but Gale did try after the attacks last year. She almost seemed desperate with how much she was trying to be in your life last year. She wasn’t good at it, it was abundantly clear she had no idea what she was doing, not that you knew what you were doing either, the two of you were in uncharted waters, you figured it was best to just pretend nothing ever happened and everything could go back to normal.

One of the times she reached out you mentioned moving to New York. She had offered to get you an apartment, you, Tara, and Sam, which, considering how expensive New York was, was incredibly generous of her but you turned her down. You and Sam were managing the rent just fine on your own, you didn’t want to feel like you owed Gale for anything, not when she had done nothing for you before. You really only told her about moving because you knew she lived there and figured if she knew it would be easier to avoid each other.

The only time you reached out to her was when her book came out. You never saw Tara reading it, but you and Sam certainly did. Sam was painted in a much worse light than you and the book only fueled the online hate Sam was getting. Confronting Gale about the book was also the last time you saw her, at least before just outside the police station. You went off on her and she just took it, the last thing you told her was to stay the fuck out of your life. Gale had just nodded and handed you a present, as if that would make up for anything she’d done, she never even apologized for what she wrote. Still, despite your issues with her you kept the present, it was tucked safely under yours and Tara’s bed, though you keeping it wasn’t for sentimental reasons.

Before you knew it the cab came to a stop, dropping the three of you off in front of Blackmore University. After your conversation the ride had been rather silent, allowing you to get so lost in your mind. You tried to keep your leg as straight as possible; the bodega really did a number on it. When you ran into Ghostface again you hoped you wouldn’t have to be crawling around on the floor again.

Sam’s phone dinged almost instantly with a text from Mindy telling her where they were waiting. Apparently, you, Tara, and Sam were the only ones they were waiting on, everyone else was already there. You tried not to let the dread of going over suspects get to you. Last time, you didn’t even want to go, but you did, and then you got accused of attacking your girlfriend.

Amber had been the one to accuse you, she had been throwing all the accusations and trying to get a reaction out of you. Mindy had joined in though, agreeing with Amber on pretty much every front. Chad didn’t accuse you like Mindy did, but he certainly didn’t defend you, besides Tara, the only person who didn’t seem to think the worst of you was Liv, who was dead now.

You walked the familiar path to the courtyard where you saw the others waiting on a couple of benches. You had been on the campus plenty of times, Tara had actually given you a tour of the entire place after her first week of classes. It was a nice campus, you could see why Tara had been so excited to come, besides the classes of course. You had even eaten at a couple of the restaurants on campus when you met Tara for lunch, there was even a really nice coffee shop you and Tara stopped at one morning when you walked her to class, that had the most delicious muffins you had ever had.

You held in a sigh as you got closer to the group. Quinn, Anika, and Ethan were on one bench while Chad was sitting on another, and Mindy was already standing in front of everyone, ready to deliver what speech she definitely already had planned.

“Finally!” Mindy groaned when she caught sight of the three of you approaching.

Chad hopped up off the bench and decided to lean against the stone wall that was behind the two benches, allowing you, Sam, and Tara to share the now vacant bench. You didn’t realize you were tapping your finger until Tara linked her hand with yours, giving it a tight squeeze. You glanced over at her and smiled, trying to show her just how much comfort her being there brought you, things were already better than last year, even if they all accused you of murder again.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Sam said.

“Love the enthusiasm Sam,” Mindy deadpanned. “It’s not like I’m about to reveal the potential killers or anything!”

Chad raised a hand, holding his pen up high. You raised an eyebrow at that, it seemed he intended to take notes on whatever his sister was about to ramble on about. You honestly admired the commitment, but you weren’t sure when exactly he, or any of you, would have time to go over the notes. It wasn’t like he could run over and reference his notebook in the midst of Ghostface trying to kill all of you.

“You got it wrong last time,” Chad pointed out.

Mindy narrowed her eyes at that. “I’ll admit,” she said, holding up one of her hands as if she were confessing something. “Mistakes were made.” You gave her an unamused look, that was certainly one way to put it. “But I know what to expect this time!”

“And what’s that?” Sam asked, crossing her arms.

“The unexpected!” Mindy held her hands out wide while all of you just looked at her with confusion.

“So,” Tara said slowly, adjusting in her seat slightly so she was leaning a little closer to you. “We need to expect the unexpected?”

“Yes!” Mindy smiled brightly.

“Is this normal for her?” Quinn whispered but it was loud enough for the whole group to hear. Chad nodded, though he seemed ashamed to do so. Quinn let out a hiss and her eyes widened at she leaned back. “No wonder you didn’t figure it out last time.”

“We’re in franchise people!” Mindy ignored Quinn’s comment, forcing everyone’s attention back on herself. “Throw the rules out the window,” she made a throwing motion with her hands. “Everything is unpredictable! It’s bigger! It’s badder! Everyone is on the chopping block this time! Even Sam and Tara!” She pointed at the two sisters.

Your eyes narrowed at Mindy, even if she wasn’t threatening her, you didn’t like the suggestion that someone could hurt Tara. You didn’t care who this Ghostface was or how much training they had, you refused to let Tara get even so much as a scratch this time around.

“That means we’re most certainly dead,” Mindy said, pointed at herself and Chad. Chads mouth fell open, and he looked around as if he expected someone to disagree with her. “But let’s get to what’s important!” Mindy clapped her hands.

“My death isn’t important?” Chad asked.

“Suspects!” Mindy completely ignored her brother. “First! We have-”

“Let me guess,” you interrupted. “Me?” You figured getting it out of the way was better, especially if Mindy ended on accusing some of the others.

“Actually, no!” You raised your eyebrows at that, you wondered if your ears were messed up from all the shooting the previous night. “But only because you’re top of the kill list this time.”

You frowned. “Mindy!” Tara snapped.

“It’s nothing personal,” Mindy waved Tara off. It sure felt personal, you didn’t know how being at the top of the kill list wasn’t personal. “They’re the love interest!” Mindy gestured at you and Tara as if to prove her point. “Box one checked! They’re a child of legacy characters! Box two checked!” You crossed your arms, you remembered from last year how being Dewey and Gales kid put more of a target on your back. “And…” Mindy glanced at you as if she felt bad for what she would say next. “They were the prime suspect last year.” You felt Tara squeeze your hand, it made you instantly unclench your jaw, you hadn’t realized you were doing that. “Kill off the one who was framed and suspected last time.”

“Like Cotton!” Chad added, quickly scribbling something down in his notebook. When Chad looked up, he was met by everyone’s glare. “What? Is that not right?” He flipped through a couple pages of his notebook, as if they would hold the answer.

“No, it’s right,” Mindy admitted. “Cotton was falsely accused for killing Maureen Prescott, then when he was exonerated, he was framed by Mrs. Loomis and Mickey, only to be the opening kill for Roman.”

“Great,” you mumbled. You weren’t sure if being at the top of the kill list was better than being the prime suspect. You certainly didn’t want to die but maybe if Ghostface came after you it would mean keeping Tara safe would be easier.

“But those two guys from class were the opening kill,” Anika said. “Right?” Her brow was scrunched together as she clearly tried to make sense of everything her girlfriend was saying.

“Yes!” Mindy said, pointing proudly at her girlfriend. “But if you ask me, that was more taking out the competition than killing someone the core friend group knows.”

“Can we,” Sam interrupted, shaking her head at the scene before her. “Just get back on topic here.”

“This is all relevant Sam,” Mindy gestured wildly with her hands. “But Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “Our suspects!” She turned on her heel and gave Ethan a devilish smirk.

“Me?” Ethan asked, his voice going up a notch. “Why? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?”

“Roommate lotteries can be juked; you could have fixed it to get next to us.” Mindy didn’t wait for Ethan to respond because she was already turning to face her next suspect. “Quinn, the slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.” You suppressed a sigh, you didn’t think pointing out that this was real life and not a movie would do any good.

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected but didn’t seem overly offended at being accused like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam, Tara, and Y/N?” Mindy tilted her head, though it wasn’t like she didn’t already know the answer.

“I answered their ad online,” Quinn shot the three of you a confused look.

“Say no more!” Mindy threw her hands in the air. “You’ve already implicated yourself enough.”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara sighed. “Plus, you know we vetted her.”

You nodded; you remember the meetings that were held for potential roommates. Several people responded to the ad and you, Sam, and Tara met with every single one of them. Some lasted longer than others, then there were some that arrived and Sam made leave before they ever stepped foot in the apartment. The handful of people that passed the initial inspection were subjected to a light Q&A, which you said seemed more like an interrogation. You didn’t participate a whole lot in that part, mostly just sitting silently at the table while Tara played nice cop, asking the questions, and Sam would butt in, asking her own questions or follow up questions, but mostly just glaring at said person. Mindy was also there, she was the one who came up with over half the questions for you guys to ask, even if some seemed very weird.

“Plus, her dad is a cop,” Tara added.

“And that makes it more likely that she’s the killer,” Mindy said, pointing at Quinn.

You tilted your head in thought at that. Your eyes slid over to Quinn, you did think it was suspicious Bailey had gotten the case, even if he said his buddy offered it to him. Something also felt off about him during the interrogation. Mindy hadn’t directly said Bailey was a suspect, but he was a cop, he’d know how to use a shotgun and could move like that Ghostface from the bodega. It also moved Quinn higher on the suspect list, her dad could have trained her how to shoot a gun and anything else she would need to know for defending herself, but those skills could also double in making her one effective killer.

“Do you not remember how these movies work Tara?” Mindy shouted, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You glared up at Mindy and pulled Tara closer. You knew this was just the way Mindy was, but Tara had really calmed down on the horror movie front, even though it was once her favorite genre. She still went to school for film she didn’t seem as excited about it as she once did. When she used to talk about going to college for film, it always involved the two of you moving together, but it also involved Amber. Amber was Tara’s best friend and someone who shared Tara’s love of movies, though she was less intense about everything as Mindy, well, at least that’s how she portrayed herself, it turned out she was even crazier than Mindy. After Amber’s betrayal it just seemed like Tara lost her original passion for the subject.

“And finally, Anika,” Mindy said, facing her girlfriend, and final suspect. Anika smiled and blew a kiss to Mindy, who happily blew a kiss in return. “Never trust the love interest.” Anika frowned at that, like she was hurt her own girlfriend didn’t trust her.

You liked Anika, she was the sweetest person you had ever met. You knew you had to have your guard up around her though, as much as you wanted to trust her you knew Ghostface could be anyone. You never liked Amber, but you had never imagined her as someone who was capable of hurting Tara. You glanced at Ethan, he was shy and dorky, someone who clearly struggled making friends. In the moment though, you couldn’t help but be reminded of Richie, he played the sweet supportive boyfriend to Sam, always coming off as incredibly awkward and a total dork, only to end up being a total psychopath.

“Great,” Sam said. “We have our suspects-”

“W-wait,” Ethan interrupted. “What about you guys?”

“I think it’s safe to rule out all of us who went through this last year,” Mindy said.

“Yeah,” Quinn said. “Who’s to say the trauma you all went through didn’t cause one or even all of you to snap?”

“Yeah, and why do they,” Ethan said, pointing at you. “Get a free pass? Just because they’re more likely to be a target? Come on,” he scoffed. “Weren’t they your number one suspect last year?” he raised an eyebrow at Mindy. Tara whipped her head around, shooting a furious glare at Ethan. “And that look is rather murderous,” he glanced at Tara out of the side of his eye and even went as far as to shift away from her, even though he was on a completely different bench.

“Accuse her girlfriend and feel Tara’s wrath,” Mindy mumbled. “But that is not the only reason!” she raised her pointer finger up high. You furrowed your brow, you didn’t know there was another reason you couldn’t possibly be the murderer. “They are also not physically capable of such a thing.” You frowned at that, not that you wanted to be excused of murder again. “They received significant injuries last year and quite literally could not move and chase us around like Ghostface needs to.”

“They could have a partner and they’re just the mastermind,” Ethan pointed at you. “Playing the innocent victim.” This time you and Sam glared at Ethan, along with Tara who had yet to stop her own glare.

“That’s true,” Mindy mumbled more to herself, stroking her chin as if she were in deep thought. Tara was quick to shift her murderous glare from Ethan to Mindy. Mindy’s eyes widened, as if she just realized she spoke aloud and slowly raised her hands in surrender.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Sam said, ending the discussion before someone, most likely Ethan, got murdered, most likely by her sister.

Everyone got up and went their separate ways, most of them most likely heading off to class. It was just you, Tara, and Sam once again and Tara didn’t seem interested in heading in the direction of the class you knew started in almost half an hour.

“Let’s go home,” Tara said. She held out her hand and pulled you up from the bench. Going home would give the two of you the perfect opportunity to talk, even though a part of you just wanted to rest and spend time together.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrry-lov3 @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #a legacies regret

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rotagnus · 20 hours ago

Text

what does this person think of you? --<3

this is an intuitive reading, if it does not speak to you do not take it to heart. i will be blunt so don't expect butterflies and unicorns. this is asking about someone who at least knows about your existence...so no f/s, no celebrity. can be romantic or platonic. blurbs because i made six piles...maybe i'll add on later or do a pt. 2. feedback is appreciated but not required. enjoy, babies 💋

i've been a bit busy with personal life and senior year, but when spring break rolls around i'll make more pacs and in between then as well. <3

this person thinks that you're very fawn-like. you're bubbly and you know how to be the center of attention, which can bug you sometimes--this person thinks you revel in it, though. compared to you, they may be less popular--nerdier, unseen, and they admire the way you can command people at your will. they may be meek and have had some issues in their life that have caused them to be on the more quiet side. they're a very calm person though, and they appreciate that you're more different than them. they think you're warm, and although you're a bit too bright at times, they love your spark. i think you're asking about someone on your level, around your age. if this is a romantic connection, i think there's some potential, although this person may not be ready for this. you are much more spiritually advanced than them. song: easy lovers by piero piccioni. animal: mourning dove. place: coastlines.

this person can probably be seen as a bit rude/cold at first. i'm thinking of sea storms, brick walls incase that may be significant. you're probably out of high school, in the real world. this may be a coworker or college friend you're asking about. anyways, i think they think that you're pretty neat. you probably have similar interests--if you haven't spoken to them, you really should. this can be a very good friendship. they may like sports or have varying hobbies than you (not interests necessarily). you're more on the artistic, musical side. they think that you're very talented, but that you show this side to other people rarely. you have this summery aura around you. you feel like home. but they, also, have a very widespread social circle and they think very positively about other people. they're probably more talkative than you are. song: champagne coast by blood orange. animal: tiger. place: islands.

this person may resent you a little bit for some reason. i'm thinking of birds. i think you embody some quality that they wish to have, and the fact that it seems like you exhibit this so easily makes them upset. you're a very lucky person and life gives you whatever you want on a silver platter--they do not know that you've worked for everything that you currently have. you may be flighty, which can be both positive or negative, and it pisses them off because they stay in one spot all of the time. you're not attached to things as much as they are, and it makes them furious at how fast you can move on from things. you probably smile a lot and they get upset with that--this can be an ex, someone who didn't make the first move, even a parent with whom your relationship has grown sour. i think that this connection is probably better off not existing. song: angel by massive attack. animal: snake. place: inland.

they think a lot of you contrasts other parts of you. you may be a feminine man or a masculine woman, or exhibit qualities that aren't expected of you, like being a girl and having short hair or having a job in a more male-dominated field, f.e. you're a fiery person--i wouldn't say outright bubbly like pile 1, because you do have your silent moments, but when you do speak you fill your words with passion. you're a very powerful person and they don't know what to make of you. you're a bit intimidating so if you're hoping they'll approach you, you may have to make the first move 😂. but if you've spoken with them already, this person likes you and adores you. you're their little punk and they think that you're pretty darn cool. they're probably alternative, or they also defy norms. that's why they think you're pretty nice. they're a genuine person, although they may be a bit blunt sometimes. song: elskling by elusin. animal: dolphin. place: cities.

i think this person thinks you're very beautiful. note that this doesn't mean they are necessarily attracted to you, but for a lot of you, they are. you have very well-defined features, and you don't try to cover them up, even though some of you do struggle with self image. they think you're not only absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, but you're wise. you're soft but you know how to punch too, but you choose to be at peace. i don't really think this person is in a position to know a lot about you, as of now...i would be 50/50 about talking to them seriously if you haven't already. this person does have the ability to form meaningful connections with people, but for some of you they're lustful and very material-based. song: agora hills. animal: cat. place: luxurious/well cared for.

ahhh my final pile! hi darling. this seems like someone you've fell out with, or you have had a rocky relationship. i think you're tired, or sad now--maybe you have seasonal depression. i feel like you're carrying a big weight on your shoulders, and this person has noticed that too. they think of you as very honorable. you have a strong-set of morals that they admire, and they like how you're loyal to things despite sometimes it being to a fault. they think that you're a very honest person--unrelated but some of you may have an accent or an interesting way of speaking. you have a good heart, and because of this you have an amalgamation of many different people in your social circle, since you're non-judgmental. the person thinks that this is bad, because they're really judgy themselves. they're also probably insecure. i think you need to stop caring about what this person thinks and instead go treat yourself. after you've helped yourself out of this sludge, you'll learn that you don't really care for what they think--this doesn't mean that they don't matter, no, but it means that they're not the focal point of your life and that the beautiful energy surrounding you should be devoted to other things, not just them. song: total eclipse of the heart by bonnie tyler. animal: dog. place: southern.

#pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #tarot reading #love reading #tarot #divine guidance #spirituality #card reading #tarot cards #tarotblr #pac reading

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promptedwordsmith · 2 days ago

Note

I asked this request with someone else so you mayy or mayy not see the same request somewhere else. Depends on if you or the other person does write my request. It’s alright if you don’t wanna, write want you wanna to write. I just need this idea out of my system 🤣

MC is indicted that she is powerful. Good fighter, powerful evol where she can practically borrow someone else evol and the core in her heart. She much weaker for an unknown reason at the moment. But what if she wasn’t for a brief moment? 👀

What if MC physically fights the LaDS men without holding back 👀 like a scenario where a new wanderer shows up, puppets her or something, forcing the LaDS men to defend themselves. I need the angst and drama 😂 where the men are like “I don’t want to hurt you but you’re going kill me at this rate if I don’t do something.”

This keeps floating in my head, someone save me 🤣

OK soo I hope this is what you meant and it wasn't just me completely misunderstanding but the second I read this I just had to get started omg

I usually really don't like the whole "I'm going to save you by playing on our connection" trope but it suits this sort of story I think!

Caleb

The battlefield was silent. Not the kind of silence that came from peace, but the suffocating, eerie kind—the moment before the storm.

Caleb stood at the center of it, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, violet eyes locked on you. Or at least, the body that belonged to you.

But you weren’t there.

The moment the Wanderer had latched onto you, sinking its unseen claws into your mind, he’d known something was wrong. You had stiffened, your Evol flaring wildly for half a second before your entire stance changed. That was the first warning. The second had come when your gaze lifted to meet his—not with recognition, not with warmth, but with something empty.

And then you had attacked him.

His own gravity turned against him—the weight around his body fluctuating so rapidly that he nearly lost his footing. That alone had confirmed his worst fear. The Wanderer wasn’t just suppressing your will—it was using your Resonance against him.

You had stolen his Evol.

And now, he had to fight you.

But he couldn’t.

Not really. Not the way he fought others.

His hands clenched at his sides as he dodged another blast of gravitational force, feeling the way the air twisted and compressed around him. You were strong. Stronger than he had ever let himself acknowledge.

His mind was at war with itself. Every instinct screamed at him to fight back—to win—but the part of him that had spent lifetimes protecting you? That part was already losing.

Because how could he fight you, when all he wanted to do was save you?

You lunged forward, eyes still vacant, but your movements were clean, precise—yours, but also not yours. You weren’t just mimicking his power; you were enhancing it. His own gravity was being amplified, warped, turned into a weapon against him. It took everything he had to avoid the sudden shift in force, barely managing to stabilize himself before he was slammed downward with bone-crushing weight.

The ground cracked beneath him. His knees buckled.

Caleb grit his teeth.

If this had been anyone else—any other enemy—he would’ve ended this fight by now. But it wasn’t. It was you. And for the first time in his life, he was afraid.

Not of you. Never of you.

But of what he might have to do to stop this.

He tried to speak, voice raw. “You have to fight it.”

You didn’t respond.

You only lifted your hand, and the world collapsed inward.

The force struck fast—so much stronger than he expected, so much more precise. His body strained against the gravity pressing down on him, the weight overwhelming. If he had been anyone else, he would’ve been crushed.

And that’s when the realization hit him—this is what you feel.

Every time you resonate with him, every time you borrow his strength, every time you fight beside him, this is what your body endures. The sheer force of his Evol, amplified within you.

He had never really thought about it before. Never truly grasped just how much you took on when you fought at his side.

And now? Now that power was against him.

His arms trembled as he forced himself up. “I know you’re still in there.” His voice was hoarse, desperate. “I know you can hear me.”

Nothing.

His mind raced. He needed to think. He needed to find a way to reach you—not hurt you, never hurt you—but how?

His vision blurred at the edges. The gravitational pull you were using was unlike anything he had ever faced. Not even he had pushed his power to this extent before. His body screamed for relief, his Evol struggling against itself.

But then he saw it.

The slight hesitation. The way your fingers twitched—just barely, but enough.

It wasn’t the Wanderer controlling his Evol. It was you.

Somewhere inside, you were still fighting.

That was all he needed.

Caleb sucked in a sharp breath, shoving aside hesitation, pain—everything. His hands shot forward, fingers splaying wide, and for the first time in this fight—he didn’t resist your gravity.

He let it pull him in.

The instant he got close enough, he grabbed your wrist, forcing your Evol to connect with his. Forcing Resonance.

And that was all it took.

Because the moment your Evol touched his, he poured everything he had into it. Not just power. Not just control. But himself.

His memories. His thoughts. The lifetimes spent together.

The way you had always brought him back from the edge.

The way he had sworn to protect you—not just in this life, but in every life.

And then, for the first time, you hesitated.

A sharp breath escaped you, your entire body jolting as if something had just slammed into your mind. Your grip on your own power wavered—just enough for Caleb to take control.

Gravity twisted.

Not violently. Not in a way that would hurt you.

But in the way he always held you.

Steady. Unshakable. Safe.

Your body swayed, your breath stuttering, and then—then—your eyes flickered.

Your real eyes.

Not the Wanderer’s empty gaze.

Yours.

Recognition flashed across your face, confusion, panic—and then the force holding him down snapped.

Caleb barely had time to react before your legs gave out, and he caught you without hesitation, his arms wrapping around you, his Evol still steadying your weight.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Your breath was warm against his shoulder, your body trembling in his arms. He could feel your heartbeat—erratic, unsteady, but yours.

And that was all that mattered.

The fight was over.

He pressed his forehead to the side of yours, his grip tightening, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”

A shaky exhale. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his uniform. “I…” Your voice was hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Caleb exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No. Don’t.” He pulled back just enough to look at you, his violet eyes burning. “You came back. That’s all that matters.”

And in that moment, he realized something—something that had been clear all along, but he had never let himself truly accept.

You weren’t just his partner.

You were his equal.

And no matter what, no matter how hard it got, he would always pull you back to him.

Rafayel

The battlefield was ablaze.

Not with fire, but with chaos.

The air was thick with smoke and embers, Rafayel’s flames flickering and dancing wildly across the ruined ground. Yet, despite the searing heat, his hands trembled. His chest ached—not from exhaustion, not from injury, but from the sheer horror of what was happening.

Because it was you standing against him.

And it wasn’t you at all.

Your eyes, usually filled with warmth, were void of emotion. Your stance, once fluid and graceful, was rigid—unnatural. The Wanderer who had taken over your body had turned your Resonance against him, amplifying his flames, twisting them, making them stronger in ways he never intended.

And now, that power was aimed at him.

A burst of fire roared toward him, faster than he could react. The heat seared his skin as he barely managed to throw himself to the side, landing hard against the dirt. His breath came out ragged as he quickly pushed himself up, his eyes locking onto you once more.

"Damn it..." he whispered, swallowing hard.

He couldn’t fight you.

But you—no, the thing inside you—had no such hesitation.

You lunged. Faster than he expected, stronger than he remembered. And maybe that was the worst part. He had always known you were powerful, but now? With your Evol fully unleashed against him, amplified in ways he never thought possible, he realized just how devastatingly strong you truly were.

And he had never feared your strength before.

Not until now.

You moved like fire itself—wild, relentless. Each attack forced him to retreat, to defend, to dodge, rather than strike back. He couldn’t. Even as his instincts screamed at him to fight, to survive, his heart refused to let him lift his hands against you.

"Come on, Rafayel," a voice that wasn’t yours taunted from your lips, hollow and mocking. "Is this really all you’ve got?"

Another wave of flames erupted toward him, this time crackling with an intensity that made his stomach twist. He barely managed to counter, his own fire surging up to meet yours, but the moment the two collided, yours consumed his completely.

His eyes widened.

His own fire.

It didn’t even stand a chance.

"Shit—"

The explosion sent him flying backward, slamming into the side of a crumbling building. He gasped, pain shooting through his ribs. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the helplessness clawing at his chest.

He had to think. Had to find a way to get through to you.

But how?

If he tried to burn the Wanderer out, he’d be burning you.

If he held back, he’d die before he got the chance to save you.

He gritted his teeth.

No. There had to be a way.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes locked onto you again—his love, his muse—possessed and wielded like a weapon against him.

His hands clenched into fists.

"I know you’re still in there." His voice was hoarse, desperate. "I know you can hear me."

But you didn’t answer.

The Wanderer tilted your head, smirking through your lips. "That’s sweet," they mocked. "But pointless."

And then you attacked again.

Faster. Stronger.

You disappeared in a flash of heat—only to reappear behind him. He barely turned in time to block the hit, his forearm crashing against yours. The sheer force of it made his bones rattle. Then came another, and another—strike after strike, relentless.

And Rafayel could do nothing but defend.

Not because he wasn’t strong enough.

But because he couldn’t—wouldn’t—hurt you.

Think, damn it!

The answer came in a flicker of memory.

Your Resonance.

You borrowed the power of others, but it was a two-way connection. If he could reach that part of you—if you were still in there, buried deep beneath the Wanderer’s control—then maybe, just maybe, he could pull you back.

But he had to get close.

Close enough to touch you.

Close enough to take a direct hit.

It was a gamble. A stupid, reckless gamble. But he was running out of time, and there was no way in hell he was going to lose you.

So, he let go of his defense.

Dropped his guard completely.

And when you lunged at him again, aiming straight for his heart—he didn’t move.

The moment your hand made contact with his chest, he reached out. Not with his fire. Not with his fists.

But with his Resonance.

A connection.

A tether.

Through the blinding heat, through the searing pain of your touch, he focused on you—the real you, trapped beneath layers of someone else’s will.

"Come back to me," he breathed. "Please."

For a moment—just a flicker—something changed.

Your body froze.

The grip on his chest loosened, fingers trembling against his shirt. The flames flickering in your eyes wavered—just for a second.

And in that second, he poured everything into the link between you.

Your Evol, your power, the resonance that had always bound you together. He reached for it. Pushed his own power into it. Made it something bigger, brighter, than the darkness that held you captive.

"You’re mine," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours despite the heat. "Not theirs."

The Wanderer shrieked.

The connection between you burned.

And then—

A scream tore through the air. Your body convulsed, and suddenly, the fire turned inward.

Not his. Yours.

Flames erupted around you, swallowing your form in a wild blaze—brighter, hotter than anything he’d ever seen. And then—

Silence.

When the flames finally died, you collapsed against him, body trembling, breath coming in ragged gasps.

But your eyes—

Your eyes were yours again.

"Rafayel..." Your voice was weak, hoarse, but it was enough.

His breath hitched, arms tightening around you as he pulled you close, pressing desperate kisses to your hair, your forehead, anywhere he could reach.

"You scared the hell out of me," he whispered, voice shaking. "Don’t you ever do that again."

A weak laugh left your lips as you buried your face against his chest. "Not exactly something I planned, you know."

He let out a breathless chuckle, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

You were back.

And he would never let you go again.

Sylus

The night was warm, but Sylus felt nothing but cold.

He stood across from you, his crimson eyes narrowed, his breath steady—but his heart pounding.

You weren’t you.

Not really.

A Wanderer had taken your body, stolen your will, and twisted it into something unrecognizable. The way you moved—precise, calculating, almost inhuman—was proof enough. Your usual grace had been sharpened into something unnatural, something colder than he could stand to see.

He had fought countless enemies before. He had cut down traitors, eliminated threats, and broken those who dared to stand against him. But this?

This was the first time his hands trembled before a fight had even begun.

You raised your hand, palm out, and Sylus braced himself. A flicker of energy crackled around your fingers—his energy, twisted by your Resonance Evol.

The Wanderer inside you smirked.

“Your hesitation is touching, Sylus,” they said, your voice not quite right. “But it will be your downfall.”

Then, with a flick of your wrist, the world ignited.

A blast of pure, searing energy surged toward him—his own power, amplified and turned against him. He barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as the ground where he once stood erupted in a violent shockwave.

Damn it.

He knew your Evol made you powerful, but now—now—he was realizing just how dangerous it was. With your Resonance, you weren’t just using his ability. You were enhancing it. Making it faster. Stronger.

Making it better than he ever could.

Sylus exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he steadied himself.

“Darling,” he said, his voice calm despite the ache in his chest, “if you wanted a fight, you could’ve just asked.”

The Wanderer inside you laughed. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. You were always going to lose.”

You lunged.

Sylus barely dodged in time, his coat billowing as he twisted away. Another blast of energy, another near-miss. He felt the heat graze his cheek, singeing his skin. Tch. That was his power. Amplified. Used against him.

And worse?

He still couldn’t bring himself to attack you.

Because even though your body was moving against him, even though you were fighting with deadly precision—it was still you.

And the thought of hurting you was the first thing in his life that truly terrified him.

But this was no longer just about him.

He had to get you back.

Sylus moved with purpose, dodging, analyzing. He needed a plan—a way to break the Wanderer’s hold without breaking you.

But the problem was you were making it impossible.

You weren’t just strong—you were devastating. Every attack came faster, sharper. His own Evol, when amplified by yours, was far more than he could handle. It was overwhelming, relentless.

A pillar of energy surged forward. He braced, crossing his arms as the impact slammed into him, forcing him back. He barely stayed on his feet, his boots skidding against the cracked ground.

You’re too strong like this.

And that realization—it shook him to his core.

He had always known you made him stronger. Had always known that together, you were an unstoppable force.

But now? Now that you were standing against him instead of beside him?

He wasn’t sure if he could win.

And worse—he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

“Come on, Sylus,” the Wanderer taunted through your lips. “You always plan for every possible outcome, don’t you? You must’ve thought about this scenario.”

He clenched his jaw. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

A smirk. “Oh? You really mean to say you never once imagined what would happen if your pretty little Resonance Evol turned against you?”

Sylus said nothing.

Because the truth was—no.

He had never imagined this.

Because in every scenario he had ever planned, in every possibility he had ever considered—

You were always with him.

The next strike was the closest yet.

A blast of energy—too fast, too precise. He barely managed to counter, the force sending him stumbling back. He could feel the bruises forming beneath his clothes, the sting of burned skin where your attack had hit.

And still, he hesitated.

“Why won’t you fight me, Sylus?” the Wanderer hummed, tilting your head. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

His eyes locked onto yours.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said simply.

The Wanderer clicked their tongue. “Oh, but I’ll hurt you.”

You raised your hand again.

And Sylus knew—this time, he wouldn’t be able to dodge.

But at the last second—you hesitated.

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but Sylus saw it. A flicker of recognition. A second where your body tensed—but your fingers curled inward, as if trying to resist.

You were still in there.

Sylus inhaled sharply. That’s it. Hold on, darling. Hold on just a little longer.

If you were still there, he could reach you.

He just had to risk it all.

So, instead of dodging—

He stepped forward.

The Wanderer sneered. “Giving up already?”

Sylus didn’t answer.

He just closed the distance—and grabbed your wrist.

The moment his fingers closed around your skin, he poured his energy into you.

Not to fight.

Not to hurt.

But to resonate.

If your Evol worked through Resonance, through matching the energy of those around you—then all he had to do was flood you with something stronger than the Wanderer’s control.

And there was nothing in this world stronger than his need to bring you back.

Your body stiffened. The energy in your hand faltered, flickering unsteadily between raw power and something uncertain. Your breathing hitched.

Sylus tightened his grip.

“Come back to me,” he murmured, his voice commanding. “I know you’re still in there.”

For a second—nothing.

Then—

A sharp gasp.

Your eyes, wide and yours again for just a moment, locked onto his. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. A violent shudder wracked through your body.

Sylus didn’t let go.

“You are mine,” he said, his voice a whisper, but carrying the full weight of his soul. “No one else gets to have you. Not them. Not anyone.”

A strangled cry tore from your throat. The Wanderer fought—but Sylus was stronger.

Because he knew you.

He knew your energy, your heart, your soul.

And no matter what—nothing could ever make him let you go.

The moment the Wanderer’s hold snapped, you collapsed against him.

Sylus caught you immediately, cradling you against his chest, his arms locking around you like a vice.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, weakly, you whispered, “You’re bleeding.”

Sylus let out a breathless laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “You should see yourself, darling. You made quite the mess.”

You gave a weak chuckle. “Guess that means I won?”

His grip tightened. “Never.”

Then, softer—

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

You nodded against his chest, and Sylus knew—

No matter what happened next, you would never fight alone again.

Xavier

The world around you spun. The cold, sterile air of the facility clung to your skin, and your heartbeat pounded against your chest as though it wanted to break free. You could feel the weight of your body, but it felt distant, as if you were no longer fully in control of it.

Your breath quickened as the world distorted, everything around you slipping out of focus. The pain in your temples only made the sensation worse, a sharp jolt of nausea sinking into your gut. It was as though your entire being was split in two, and one of those halves was being pulled in a direction you didn’t want to go.

You fought it, clenching your fists in an attempt to regain control, but it was no use. The foreign force inside you took hold with an iron grip, seizing every inch of you, weaving itself into your core until it became you. The invasive presence swirled within, a dark, malicious energy.

There was a flash of movement—Xavier. His silver hair caught the light, and his blue eyes found you with a look of deep concern. His steps faltered as he came closer, his gaze narrowing, confused. But the moment you met his eyes, the clarity of what was happening hit him all at once.

“No,” he whispered. The word trembled from his lips. “No, no, no…”

It was you. It was your body, but not your mind. Not your will. You weren’t in control anymore.

You were a prisoner inside your own skin.

“Xavier!” you tried to shout, but the voice that came out of your mouth wasn’t yours. It was cold, detached, and devoid of all warmth. A hollow echo of what you had once been.

Xavier’s eyes widened as his instincts kicked in. He knew you. He knew you, and this was wrong. This wasn’t the person he’d fought beside, laughed with, shared so many quiet moments. This wasn’t the person who’d trusted him with their heart, body, and soul.

But you weren’t completely gone. He could see it in the way your lips trembled, the subtle flicker of emotion beneath the cold mask the Wanderer had woven over you. But it wasn’t enough.

You were still trapped, still in that dark corner of your mind, but the Wanderer’s will was too powerful.

The presence inside you stirred, pushing against your resistance. Xavier took a careful step forward, his hand raised in a calming gesture, as though trying to reach the real you beneath the enemy’s control.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Just fight, okay? Fight it, please. I’ll find a way to get you back, I swear.”

But you didn’t respond—not with your words, not with any recognition of him. The enemy within you was far more cunning, pushing you forward, taking control of your every movement. You could feel it sinking deeper into you, exploiting the part of your mind that resonated with Xavier’s light. The resonance you shared, once a source of strength, now became a weapon against him, turning his own power into something he had to fight against.

It was then you saw it: the horrible realization in his eyes as he looked at you. He couldn’t bring himself to harm you, not even to defend himself, not when he knew what you’d become.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hands, but you saw the struggle in his gaze. The anguish was raw, suffocating. He was trying to figure it out. He was trying to find a way to save you both.

The resonance between you and Xavier, the bond that had always strengthened you both in every situation, now felt like an anchor pulling you deeper into a sea of chaos. You could feel his power around you—surging, lighting up the space—but now it was a threat. A threat that made you feel like you were suffocating.

“No,” you whispered, fighting with every ounce of your being to reach him. “Don’t… hurt… me…”

But the Wanderer inside you wasn’t willing to let go. It twisted your body, forcing your hand up, and you could see Xavier’s eyes flicker with the realization that you were about to hurt him.

With a sudden surge of power, the resonance inside you flared to life—Xavier’s own Evol, manipulated by the enemy, twisted around you, harnessed into a blinding ball of light. The space around you erupted, and Xavier was forced back, his own power ripping through the air to fight against yours.

“Xavier—!” you screamed again, but the voice that came out of your mouth was filled with malice, not your own.

You didn’t know if he could hear the real you anymore. You couldn’t even feel the pulse of his Evol flowing into you as it used to. He was too far away now. He was so far away.

But Xavier didn’t back down. Even as the ball of light surged toward him, he didn’t flinch. His Evol blazed brighter, trying to counteract the resonance that had been corrupted. He didn’t understand it entirely, didn’t realize the full depth of what was happening—but he could feel you. He could feel that you were still somewhere in there, buried beneath the surface.

The battle raged on, your body moving against your will, fighting against Xavier. Every strike he blocked only caused him more pain. His own power—the very light that had once been his most treasured ally—felt oppressive, draining. He was fighting with everything he had, trying to reach you, but you were so far gone.

Xavier’s voice cracked with pain. “Please… come back to me.”

In that moment, everything froze. Time seemed to stretch as you felt the pulse of his light reach out, gentle yet forceful, like a lifeline in the storm. He wasn’t giving up. He refused to give up on you.

Somewhere deep inside, something inside you stirred.

The Wanderer’s control over you flickered, just for an instant. And in that moment, you were able to reach him.

You couldn’t speak, but you tried—your hand, shaking and weak, reached out toward Xavier. You were trying to call him back, trying to fight the darkness that had consumed you. But the Wanderer still lingered, still pressing down on you.

Xavier saw it—he saw the fight in you. He saw that you were still there.

And that was enough.

“Hang on,” he whispered, his voice full of promise and pain. “I’ll get you back. I swear I will.”

His Evol flared one last time, combining with the resonance that had always existed between you. This time, your light—the one that connected you both—fought back the darkness with a power neither of you had ever felt before.

The battle raged between the two of you, but this time, Xavier’s light pushed through the darkness, finally forcing it back. Your own resonance fought through the haze, giving you control once again.

And as you regained yourself, breathless and broken, you saw Xavier before you—his blue eyes filled with relief, but also the weight of everything he had just fought against.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he pulled you close, holding you tightly as if afraid that if he let go, you’d slip away again.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. But even through the pain, there was nothing but tenderness in his touch.

Zayne

Zayne could feel the cold creeping up his spine long before he saw you.

The battlefield was a chaotic mess of fractured ice and broken stone, an eerie quiet hanging in the air. You had been acting strange earlier—off, distant—but he never could have predicted this. Never could have anticipated what was coming.

Your eyes were distant now, completely blank as you stood across from him, an uncharacteristic stillness in your posture. A thick chill hung in the air, and the normally comfortable bite of his ice Evol now seemed like something far more dangerous—like something hostile.

“Y/N…” His voice was tentative, unsure. His heart pounded in his chest. He knew you. Knew you better than anyone else. So, why were you standing there, so calm, so detached?

You didn’t respond.

A dark energy, one Zayne couldn’t quite explain, pulsed beneath the surface, swirling through the air like a storm, wrapping around you. It wasn’t your power—he could sense that. But what came next? That, he hadn’t expected.

You raised your hand. Your own power—Resonance—flared to life, but it wasn’t the soft, gentle way it usually did. It wasn’t amplifying his power, it wasn’t supporting him like it always did. No. This time, your Resonance vibrated in sync with Zayne’s own ice, amplifying it and twisting it to your will.

And with a sudden burst of energy, Zayne watched in horror as his own ice began to materialize around you—not as defense, but as a weapon.

It was his Evol, the one he had honed and perfected for years, the one he trusted more than anything. And now, it was being used against him. His own creation.

“Y/N!” He yelled, his voice strained with both disbelief and desperation. But you were too far gone, the energy in your eyes too overwhelming.

Without warning, you thrust your hand forward, and the ice surged at him with the force of a tidal wave. Zayne barely had time to react, his body moving on instinct as he threw up his own defenses, sending a surge of ice to block the incoming attack. But it wasn’t enough.

You were using his own power against him. Every movement, every strike was amplified by your Resonance, making the ice you conjured stronger, faster, sharper. He barely managed to dodge one attack as the ice flew past him, slicing through the air and leaving deep gashes in the ground. His heart raced.

“I won’t hurt you…” Zayne muttered to himself, his hands shaking as he summoned more ice to defend himself. He could barely keep up with you now. It wasn’t just the power, it was the control. His Evol had always been something that was intrinsically tied to his soul, his emotions, but now, in your hands, it was alien, a force completely out of his control.

And worse—he didn’t know how to fight you without hurting you. The thought alone tore him apart.

You stepped forward, the ice swirling around you like a storm. It rose from the ground, wrapping around your body like armor, and you moved toward him with terrifying speed, your eyes fixed on him with a distant, eerie look.

Zayne didn’t want to fight you. But you weren’t giving him a choice.

With a cry of frustration, Zayne shot a beam of ice at you, but you deflected it effortlessly, sending shards of his own ice right back at him. One piece grazed his arm, leaving a trail of blood beneath the frozen surface. He winced but didn’t let up, his gaze locked on yours as he took another step back.

"Please," he whispered, voice ragged with emotion. "You have to fight this."

But you didn’t respond, didn’t show any sign of recognition. You just continued to move toward him, the ice in your hands growing more elaborate with each passing moment. A large block of ice shot at him with blinding speed, and Zayne barely managed to dodge it, but he was starting to feel the weight of the battle. His own powers were being turned against him, and he couldn’t keep up.

His breath came in shallow bursts, and his mind raced. There had to be something he could do, something to stop you from using his own Evol against him. He needed you to break free from this—needed you back.

His eyes searched the ground for something—anything—that could help, but all he could see was the snow and ice he had created. Your resonance, your amplification of his ice, was making everything around them feel like a frozen prison.

Then it hit him.

You were using his ice, yes, but you were still you. There was still a trace of your presence beneath the surface, beneath the coldness and the power you now wielded. The way your movements weren’t just about destruction, but about something else—something familiar.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning: He could still reach you.

Zayne closed his eyes for just a moment and focused, pulling at the ice around him, not in anger or fear, but with something deeper—something he had never relied on before. He wasn’t just using his Evol for defense. He wasn’t trying to trap or fight you.

He was trying to connect.

A wave of ice rippled through the battlefield, but it wasn’t just a defense. It was a gesture, a soft and delicate thing, like the ice seals he had carved for you when you were children. He called upon the memory of that moment, the warmth in the act, the love behind it.

Slowly, carefully, he shaped the ice into something, a symbol. A seal. A small ice sculpture, just like the ones he had made for you all those years ago. It was perfect. Beautiful. Simple.

The ice seemed to slow around him, the energy flickering. He could feel it—the resonance between the two of you, so faint now, but it was still there.

He placed the ice seal on the ground, hoping that this small act would remind you of who you were.

"Please," Zayne whispered. "Remember me."

The ice around you hesitated. The coldness seemed to crack, breaking apart like a frozen surface thawing in the warmth of the sun. You froze in place, your hand trembling as you reached for the ice seal he had created for you.

For a long moment, nothing happened. But then—slowly, so slowly—the coldness in your eyes began to melt, replaced by a softness he had longed to see again. You dropped to your knees, gasping as the power began to drain from you, leaving you breathless but you.

Zayne’s heart swelled as he rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m here,” he whispered against your hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Zayne allowed himself to breathe. The battle was over. And you were back.

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starfieldcanvas · 2 days ago

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i keep reading fics set in the 80s where people use the "breathe with me" trick for hyperventilation during panic attacks instead of grabbing for the nearest paper bag and making the person breathe into it. now, it's not like you couldn't come up with "breathe with me" on your own, or even come up with, say, the "think about how cold this piece of ice feels" grounding technique on your own, but i sure as hell never got taught any of that shit in the 90s or saw it on TV anywhere, even in the 2000s or 2010s (see: Teen Wolf stopping Stiles' panic attack with Lydia kissing him to make him hold his breath!), so it always throws me out of the fic when something i learned as a popular therapy technique in the late 2010s or early 2020s is used confidently by random laypeople in the 80s.

"He would not fucking say that" but it's "He would not handle someone having a breakdown in front of him like that."

#one of the funniest in retrospect was the character saying they learned the ice grounding technique in vietnam #y'all had ice in vietnam??#the war with no permanent front? the one where they had to use mobile kitchen trailers??#i understand we all accept a certain amount of fudging for fanfic funtimes #but i do wish people would not commit so hard to getting modern therapy into historical settings.#if i wanted modern shit i wouldn't be reading historical fiction #anyway.#fanfic rants #dove.txt #we're all mad here

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entheognosis · 2 days ago

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TREES By Hermann Hesse "For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like 'lonely' persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow. Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail. A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that 'God' is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live. When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all. A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother. So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.

Hermann Hesse

#hermann hesse

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bubbleddisasters · 2 days ago

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Guess whos back on their Che’nya theory shit again. Me.

Also some of this is just me going on about random and absolute far stretched shit, but hopefully the majority makes sense to y’all.

I’m about to sound batshit insane and this is going to be some MatPat sounding shit but here we go anyway.

WARNING‼️⚠️ MAJOR BOOK 7 SPOILERS AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

———————

I just made the realization that Che’nyas UM and already natural abilities we’ve seen puts him in a position to be deadass playing the Floor is Lava with Malleus as the lava rn.

They wouldn’t have told us his UM in the main story if it didn’t matter somehow. They had the opportunity to show us Neiges in Rooks dream, yet didn’t, so it isn’t a heres RSA UMs for for shits and giggles thing, and we don’t know ANY of the teachers UMs, so it isn’t a “filling npc” thing either.

In EVENTS, we learn the UMs of only the very important and/or dangerous characters. Rollo, Skully, and Fellow. (Geez, Halloween trio now that I think of it).

Do we know Dylia Spades? No. Do we know Eric Schronheits? No. Do we know Ambrose the 3rds? No. Do we know Elizas? No, we get slapped. Do we know Najima Vipers? No. (She might not have one yet tho but still).

These characters are all confirmed as mages, or not directly said to be magicless, so it’s fair to assume they are mages.

So they told us Che’nyas UM for a reason. Why?

Like if his UM makes him invulnerable to magic/attack and invisible, and straight up on ANOTHER PLANE OF EXISTENCE, then if he’s not technically “all there”, Malleus wouldn’t be able to sense him.

Plus, this would explain how Orthos body was floating on the water when STYX found it, as when we know Orthos HEAVY AF, and would more than likely sink, since I doubt they had the time to build in something inflatable enough to balance that weight.

To boot, Ortho was at the docks, which from the map, is super close to RSA.

For reference:

(Both normally and under Mals spell)

The Cheshire Cat is the one who gets Alice out of Wonderland (In the movie, the tunnel Alice runs through matches the Cheshire cats color and stripes + He’s the only one not chasing her+ in the OG book, the Cheshire Cat is more of a Guide and the only one who really sticks with and helps Alice for the whole shabang), and if he’s in RSA, then I think the writers know that.

Aswell as the fact Che’nya appears in both Books with “Tyrant” in the name, and the Cheshire Cat is the only person completely immune to the Queen of Hearts control, as the second most powerful being in wonderland next to LITERALLY TIME ITSELF.

Look in most Disney Villain Line-Ups, and you’ll find the Cheshire Cat. Why? Marketing, the Cheshire Cats a popular character that isn’t directly portrayed as a hero, and more as a mysterious reoccurring character that isn’t necessarily seen as a helper unless you squint.

Additionally, we’ve seen Che’nya use flight, self gravity control, teleportation(unconfirmed but implied on that one) and use his UM for extremely long periods of time, and now that I think of it, we’ve never seen it wear him down, even without the lack of a magestone on his design.

And anyway, in the manga, he’s been doing such things since before we meet him for the first time at age 8-9 from Rids perspective.

Which means long enough that he basically has full control over it at that age, so probably either since birth or very, very young.

Which gives us the know that unlocked his UM way before meeting Riddle and mastered it, which means likely as a literal toddler woke up one day and went “Hey what if I just fucked off to another plane of existence and became both invisible and invulnerable, while capable of movement and communication on this plane the whole time.”

Now back to Book 7.

So heres what caught my attention, Silver mentions the only people he can pop into the dreams of are people he has connections with.

Seeing as we get Sebek first crack out of the box, and then Lilia, this makes sense.

However, it falls off when the next people start to be people Silver either doesn’t know, or very loosely knows.

Yes, I understand the commercial and writing point is meant to be a dorm countdown, but it would make far more sense to be a Russian Roulette, kind of upping the anticipation of whos next.

But to me, with what we know of Silvers connections, it would make far more sense to have the second years be first after Dia, then maybe the third years that he knows because of Lilia, and finally the first years, still leaving room for Ace to get his UM towards the very end.

Now if we drive this back to my Che’nya playing Yuu’s guardian angel theory, it would make more sense to start with Pomfieore after Igi, because not only is it recent connections, so probably easier to bring to the forefront of Silvers UM, it gives him time to get up to NRC right after pushing Ortho or simply getting him out safely.

Before you mention malleus’s barrier, Che’nya gets past NRCs barrier that took STYX heavy power shots to break like its every other tuesday, without Crowleys notice aswell, he stands a viable chance of slipping past Malleus’s.

If he can jump to another plane of existence in which he is invulnerable to magic, theres nothing stopping him from sliding past to get Ortho out and slipping back in under Malleus’s nose.

It also gives him a good “oh shit” moment and an idea of the root of whats happening.

And if I’m wrong and he can’t teleport, he can latch on to Malleus (possibly referencing the Cheshire Cat latching onto the Queens back after she gets a card solider executed I think) to teleport with him back to NRC.

With that, he could be preventing Silver OBing by basically shattering the shade/phantom before it can even do anything, while also hiding Idia being awake. That, or basically lending Silver magic enough to keep going while praying to god Mal doesn’t notice.

Lilia playing the worlds most dangerous game of tag with Mal in dreamland gives him the distraction he needs for this aswell, and it could be that everything went to shit around Trey-Riddles Dreams, and Che’nya popped in to speed up the process and or Dream Che’nyas revealing his UM kinda got his ass caught by Mal, or caused Mal to finally detect a disturbance in the force.

So if I’m right with the previously theorized Guardian Angel thing, Che’nya could be hotwiring Silvers UM to send Silver and co to the people he remembers helped Yuu and the rest recently without risking Malleus putting two and two together on who could be fucking with the dreams other than Silver, depending on how he was portrayed in Trey and Rids Dreams.

Though it would be hilarious if with the Floor is Lavaing it he was also Night at the Musueming it and just repeatedly moved each dreamer closer to Silver physically so they’d have a physical connection (like pinky to pinky or head to head) and basically had Malleus doing a eyebrow raise everytime he turned around trying to figure out if that person had been moved or he was seeing things until he realized there was an exponentially large group around Silver that definitely wasn’t there before.

Another thing: We know the Three Good Fairies weren’t affected by Maleficent’s curse and are the ones to untie Philip when he’s caught and give him the Sword and Shield, which his has, and loses all but the sword in the fight against Maleficent, the Sword and Shield which in the Og twst Trailer that scene is likely referenced by Silver as the Sword (duh) and Sebek as the Shield, with Lilia where Philip would be, although his arm is raised higher.

You kinda have to flip Sebek and Silvers positions but yea.

Sebek being Virtue is self explanatory. He strives to have the virtue of a knight worth of Malleus, and shows this in many ways, but his faults are his rudeness, arrogance, biased or generally rude assumptions, and overexaggertion, stemming from his own internilzed racism (or speciesism? I guess?) , which lead many others to not want to be around him, deflecting the truth of his heritage as to not focus on his own insecurities like a shield to an attack, no matter who its from, in a way.

Now that he has begun to bond and not be as rude to the rest of the non fae cast however, he ends up passing out? Like how a shield seemingly has no use if its not defending, unless you get real creative with it (Its Reyn time I mean who said that)

Silver balances this out as truth, as he is someone we see is honest to almost no fault. His UM also shows truth, in its own way, by showing the truth of the desires of those around him. However, a truth has also been held directly from him, aka the truth of his birth, and the undeniable truth that to break the curse upon him, Lilia did have to truly love him, even as the child of his friends killer.

So he is both benefited and harmed by truth, just like how the same sword can both protect and kill, it just depends on who wields it.

Anyway, back to the point at hand, Now that Malleus seemingly has the time to go and pull a FNAF 4 at Idias door, the odds are Lilia may have somehow gotten caught or restrained (like Phillip is) for enough time to have Malleus notice the Shrouds are pulling shenanigans on his private dream servers and feel the need to go confirm this.

The way in the movie the Three Good Fairies are caught hiding Aurora by Maleficent in the first place is by getting too cocky on the day before Aurora’s B-day and using magic like crazy, fixing up and making their “gifts” much better, as they didn’t know how to create them without magic.

These gifts? A Cake by the GREEN fairy, the calmest and most mature of the three: Fauna, and a Dress, which the RED AND BLUE FAIRIES Merryweather (the most rebellious yet sensical) and Flora (the leader, most work focused and overconfident) keep fighting over which color it should be, Pink or Blue.

(I rewatched their scenes and I forgot how much of a fucking MVP Merryweather was, everyone else turning things into rainbows, bubbles and flowers while my girl was out here burning chains, hunting down snitches, turning her mfking ops to stone and had to be physically held back from throwing hands with Maleficent by herself, god bless this tiny blue diva)

Fauna can obviously be placed as Trey here. Calmest, a Cake, Green. Done.

You can combine Flora and Merryweather into the two sides of Riddles Dream, the first being very punk yet sensical lifestyle, the blue, bringing in the sadness of what he desired yet cannot have, and the second half being Flora, the extremes of overconfident and tyrannical leadership, the red of rage, to say.

Red and Blue obv equal Purple, Che’nyas signature color, probably because purple isn’t actually a fucking color. I’m not going to explain the history of purple, but there is not such thing as purple in science, only shades of violet.

Speaking of Pomfieore, the first non dia dreamer group we see, is VIOLET. I said it. (Octavielle is Lavender, so no, not directly purple) Bright Red is Heartstabyl. (Scarabia is Maroon, which is a shade of red, but again, not directly bright red)

Now what I’m going on about here is this: If In the dreams, each dreamers NPC versions of their friends strictly abides by what the dreamer desires them to, how did dream Che’nya not only transfer to both parts of Riddles dream, but also go directly AGAINST the dream and the dreamer?

The dream versions of the others cannot, under any circumstances, break the character the dreamer creates without breaking the dream itself.

We see this in Lilias dream, in Treys, and Deuces. The Senate, Cater and Ace respectively breach the line of what is and isn’t in character for them in the dreamers memory to hold the dreamer within the dream, causing their respective dreamer to wake up sheerly due to the stark contrast.

These characters will go to lengths to keep the dreamer asleep, so how is it that this dream version of Che’nya can do the exact opposite?

And in Treys dream, Che’nya is the only one not practically turned into Eric Cartman variants, which given the fact Cater, certified sweets hater, has too, means that Che’nya, certified sweets stealer, somehow dodged that bullet in Treys subconscious, which breaks the rules set by the dream.

These rules are delicate, seemingly. It takes one too out of character word, one too out of character action to knock the dreamer awake.

So either Trey sees Che’nya as having the self control of a monk (a small scene in manga implies Che’nya steals from the Clovers fridge so often Treys own damn siblings hear the fridge open and assume its him and not their own damn brother, so I doubt that he’d think that) or Che’nya can bypass these rules.

Many of the dreams would have been so much easier if they could conveniently convince the dreamers friends to go up against them for their sake or just to simply help wake them up.

Of all people, the dream version of Ace fucking Trappola actually listening to and abiding by Riddles tyranny and not jumping at the opportunity to S.O.S to Leona, Yuu and co says enough about this as is.

Anyway, what I’m saying here is that Che’nya either got his ass caught, or finally managed to hotwire himself into Silvers UM conga line, which unfortunately left Idia now in Mals notice and Silver becoming more weary from excess UM use.

Just like how the good fairies thought they’d succeeded and jumped the gun with using magic a day early, Chen could have thought that since they made it this far, their clean until further notice, and is gonna feel the hit of it later.

As my phone is dying and I want a fucking nap, this has been Blues randomass rant about Che’nya again.

More at ???? Folks.

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angelofthemornings · 2 hours ago

Text

I should explain the popular conception of the war really quickly (you are much better off following up on the scholarship mentioned upthread for the complex and accurate version, but I want to tell you how your average Joe perceived the war).

Not long after 9/11 it was announced that the US government "found out" that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, that is, nuclear weapons and/or biological weapons, usually it was nukes that were the topic of discussion. The evidence was seen as wishy-washy ("some memo?") to nonexistent - this is what the post is talking about by unclear reasons, people largely didn't understand what obscure evidence the government had that they were using to justify the invasion, and of course we never did find anything that even smelled like a WMD. Consequently, much of the American public (it felt like every last person but the Republicans, and even some of them too - it wasn't entirely uncommon to hear conservatives say that sure, the war was bullshit but they still supported Bush's policies, as if the invasion was a forgivable offense) eventually came to the conclusion that this was a resource war over oil. "Bush lied, people died" was a common chant (find me one city in the US circa twenty years ago that didn't have that phrase spraypainted somewhere) and so was "no blood for oil." There was even kind of a popular conspiracy theory that the Bush administration engineered the 9/11 attacks to have an excuse to invade oil-rich territory in SWANA.

So, I want to clarify that there was a commonly-accepted propaganda reason - WMDs along with Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein allegedly sponsoring al-Qaeda, the terrorist group held responsible for 9/11 - as well as a commonly-accepted "real" reason.

Basically, what I'm trying to say here is that people weren't going around like, "hey, why are we in Iraq again?" but people were saying "hey, where's the proof that Iraq has WMDs again?" and most of us couldn't even explain what the murky propaganda evidence was. (Again: "some memo?") These are kind of two different things, so I want to make the history clear.

Again, this addition is just dealing with what people broadly thought about it. It was perceived by many as a pretty clear situation. If you want to read about the rationale in full complexity, and you should, I think To Start a War: How the Bush Administration Took America into Iraq by Robert Draper and Melvyn P. Leffler's Confronting Saddam Hussein: George W. Bush and the Invasion of Iraq are good picks, especially the latter, as Leffler is a historian of American foreign policy and was able to talk to a lot of people directly responsible for the war, such as former Secretary of State Colin Powell.

However, these are history books and not scholarship by people like historians of imperialism, so I welcome additional recommendations and any criticisms of the books anyone more informed than I am might have. (I think some may find Leffler's treatment a bit lenient, but the top officials he was able to interview make this kind of an indispensable resource in my opinion.)

I missed most of the Iraq war due to being a baby, but every time I read about it I start wondering why we aren’t all talking about it all of the time

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snailsgoingdowntown · 1 day ago

Text

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Chapter 15

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Arranged marriage AU

Interact with this post to be on the tag list. Will only add if you interact with this post that’s linked. Read DNI/BYF first.

NOTE: Dion’s down bad and Jeremy needs more than one positive influence. Also, pray for the Reader guys.

Warnings: Both Dion and Jeremy are out of character, toxic marriage/relationship, themes of obsession and possessiveness, slight yandere themes, anxiety, one or two mentions of vomit, near panic attack (probably), invasion of personal space (Dion needs to learn), jealousy, drugs (sleeping pills), almost normal sibling interaction between the two Agriches (they are trying their best <3), mention of birth control, Reader thinks about how Dion would make a pretty bad father (better than Lant but still bad), (Reader thinks Dion would be jealous of their future kid if they ever have one, but I think he’d be more worried about whether or not they’ll survive), Dion’s actions are very toxic no matter how you look at it. Please tell me if I missed any.

NSFW-ish warnings: mention of implied vaginal sex, Lant being creepy-ish with putting the Reader on birth control since he basically thinks the married couple is busy at night often, implied/mention of cum swallowing, mention/implied oral (male receiving) and hand job. No sexual activities actually take place, but still.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG FANDOM RELATED THINGS (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

= = =

“Jeremy?”

He grins so brightly it could rival the sun. “In the flesh. I heard that the old lady invited you to her room.” Hands in his pockets, he kicks a leg before leaning against the doors. His cat-like blue eyes observe your every action. It puts you on edge.

“O-oh yes… word sure does travel fast.” Lifelessly you chuckle, fingers slightly gripping the sheets below you. It takes effort not to rip them between your fingers. Averting your eyes leads to them landing on his brown boots. They looked cleaned rather than new, the laces slightly worn and a scuff mark here and there on them.

You look at them harder. Slightly damp with some sort of cleaning material, you quickly realize he had just washed them. Scanning over his person only makes you more certain of that fact -some slime in his hair and on his pale cheek rests a small speck of blood. His clothes were wrinkled all over and his hair was windblown.

Regardless, his clothes are still expensive looking and you wonder if they cost more than half of your wardrobe back at home. Trying your best not to frown at the reminder of how much more powerful the Agriche family is compared to your own, you’re drawn to the red on his fair cheek.

Upon seeing where your gaze rests on his face, he quickly swipes the area off a few times until the blood is no more. It stains his blue sleeve now.

“The old lady wouldn’t shut up about it once she sent the invitation yesterday. You should have seen Dion’s face,” he scoffs with a grin at the memory.

Knowing Dion, it was probably a twitch of the eyebrow and a glare meant for her. Their relationship is sad, in all honesty. Still, you wonder if she told him herself or if he just overheard from a second party. Or perhaps both, going to ask her in person once the news reached his ears.

“Is that so?” Brain working overtime to keep this conversation going, you watch as Jeremy yawns while stretching his arms above his head. When like this, he really does only look like a boy - a child. But underneath his current demeanor lies a little crazy man who has no qualms about killing.

Just how he was taught to.

The boy hums in thought, making you look at his face. He grins and you keep the cold sweat at bay. His pearly white canines nearly shine in the sunlight seeping through the glass terrace doors. He reminds you of a cat on the hunt. Ready to pounce.

How pathetic.

Even with a child you are only prey.

“Are you free tomorrow? Xana is and it’s not like I have anything going on either.” He sounds so carefree, his age showing. And yet, the fact only makes you more nervous, fingers twitching as Jeremy waits for your answer. His face is so bright that it almost looks sincere.

Well… you do need to talk to Roxana. Maybe not ask her for help right off the bat, but establishing a ‘decent relationship’ with her and Jeremy could be a decent idea… assuming they won’t turn out to be like your husband.

Oh. I… never considered that…

Newfound apprehension forms from a single thought that just now crossed your mind. After interacting with Maria a few times, you already expected you would become one of her ‘favorites’ - for how long, you’re not sure. But what about the rest of the family?

Lant?

Sierra?

Roxana?

Jeremy?

Would they also become obsessed with you? So far, the only one who’s acting as he should is Lant and to a degree, Maria, not to mention Sierra. On the other hand, Dion, Roxana and Jeremy are not. But, as you originally thought, the two younger in-laws could just be testing you. Whatever the reason you don’t know.

You take in a small breath. You can still hear your heartbeat even as you lock eyes with him. Your gut screams at you to kick him out as you smile at him. You force your body to ‘relax’ as it stiffens when you answer.

You need to start properly playing the role of a good in-law to these people. Submissive enough to be ignored by the majority of them while the others praise you. Holding back a scowl at the newfound ‘plan,’ you realize you’re reducing yourself to nothing more than a fucking dog.

You go on regardless.

“Yes, actually. Do you have something in mind?” His eyes brighten, pushing himself off the doors a bit. From what’s shown, there isn’t a hint of something sinister in those blue eyes of his. Your younger brother-in-law almost reminds you of Zac whenever you praise him or tag along on one of his ‘adventures’.

“You haven’t seen the entire estate, right? There’s some cool sights we could show you.” Excitedly offering up ideas you only smile and nod. In truth, just the thought of it is making your stomach churn. It wasn’t in disgust like with your husband, but rather… something else.

“That sounds nice.”

A lie that only makes him smile brighter.

However, before he could utter another word, the doors opened behind him, and had he still leaned against it, he would have fallen backwards. Dressed to the nines - then again, who isn’t in this family, ever - a certain tall, black-haired and scarlet eyes man towers over the boy like nothing.

You flinch while Jeremy looks at the ‘intruder’ in annoyance. Your time together has come to an end, it seems. Dion glances at you before looking at his younger half-brother.

“Since when was breaking and entering your hobby?” What should sound like a joke is said with a glare, his voice low enough to almost sound like a threat.

“O-oh, I actually invited him in after he knocked…” There wasn’t a bond between you and the boy. But you had a feeling that if you didn’t step in, an argument would break out, and that there was a chance that Jeremy might take a swing at him. You don’t care about Dion, but you’d rather not see a kid fight a twenty-year-old.

“Did you?” He sounds doubtful but thankfully not upset.

“Y-yes.”

Your husband only continues to stare you down. Unable to maintain eye contact with him for a second longer, you turn your attention to Jeremy. “But yes, it would be nice to spend time together.” From the corner of your eye you can see Dion slightly twitch as you show sweetness to his brother and not him.

But he quickly recovers, most likely realizing how pathetic it was to be jealous over a kid. Even more so when that kid is his own brother, needing to keep appearances that he’s not as depraved as the rest of his family. You almost praise him for that.

Jeremy smugly looks at the second oldest son before turning back to you. “Okay. I’ll come by to pick you up in the morning with Xana, then.” He lingers for a bit before your husband gently nudges Jeremy’s foot with his own, signaling to the boy that he wants him out.

… this is so weird to see… and pathetic on Dion’s end.

Your husband had only recovered from short-lived jealousy. Annoyance, on the other hand, was radiating off of him.

“Hey! Why are you pushing me out!?”

“Pushing? You must be imagining things.”

If it wasn’t for their tone of voice - snarky, threatening from Jeremy and monotone from Dion - it would have passed as a normal exchange between siblings. However, with murderous rage and pure hatred in his eyes, Jeremy looks like a hissing cat. Dion, on the other hand, looks like he could easily take him down if needed, calm and calculating.

Quickly slipping your shoes back on, you hurry over to the two males. Choosing to ignore your husband, you pat Jeremy’s head, softening your eyes as you pretend he’s your lovely - annoying - Zac.

Imagining he had (h/c) hair instead of black, replacing his blue eyes with (e/c) in your head, the memory of your brother almost puts you at ease. You make yourself feel sick for doing this - it wasn’t fair to no-one.

“Thanks for coming by, Jeremy.” Saying his name was an accident, your breath hitching once you realize your mistake. Too intimate for in-laws who barely saw each other, when one is afraid of the other. You continue on regardless.

“I’m sad that we need to cut our conversation short, but your brother wants to talk in private.” You don’t want to be alone with the favorite son. You consider begging Jeremy to stay, but that would only backfire on you. You’re scared to find out how Dion would react if you do that.

Jeremy’s reaction is also a call for caution. So, you keep your mouth shut.

“However, feel free to come by whenever.”

You’re vaguely aware of your husband’s fingers daring to curl into yours as you offer smiles and attention to Jeremy. You pull that hand away, skin crawling at his touch. Like you would willingly hold his hand.

“Oh…,” taken aback by your sudden shower of ‘affection,’ Jeremy looks at you, surprised. But a joyful grin breaks out on his face, truly showing his youth. “Alright. I’ll come by with Xana tomorrow.” He turns on his feet to leave, but not without sending one last glare towards Dion.

After the door shuts, the arranged husband and wife are left alone.

Facing the door as your husband faces you, he’s close enough to reach out and plays with a strand of your hair, twirling it between his fingers. It makes you want to cut that strand off, to cut all of it off and scrub yourself clean. Fingers twitch as you hold back the urge to yank your hair away from him and leave the room.

“You act affectionately towards everyone but me.” He steps closer while you become glued to your spot, breathing halted and heart almost stopping. Bringing the strand of hair up to his lips, he kisses it while looking down at you, scarlet eyes glowing with something heavy, dangerous thoughts swirling in the red irises. You’re close to screaming.

Your legs buck. Lungs stop working. Mind blank. Mouth dry as you force your right hand down, shaking and twitching as it begs to be bitten down on.

He lets it go with an odd smile, and you tear your gaze away to look at the heavy doors in front of you.

Sweat pools at your temples and the base of your neck. You lick your lips, terrified that Dion might take another unwanted step. That he would give in and -

“I-I don’t know what you mean…,” you speak faster than you can think. Lacing your fingers together in front of your chest, you silently pray to a God that won’t listen. For if he did, you wouldn’t be here.

You must repent for your sins before he lends you an ear.

“You don’t?” His pointer finger curls and then wipes away a tear you didn’t even notice that leaked, and you start to breathe rapidly. “You smiled at two guards yesterday while ignoring me. And just now you even rubbed Jeremy’s head while you refused to touch me.”

You just shake your head, prayer after prayer said in your head. No-one answers them.

“He’s a boy… n-no need to get… upset over it.” Your toes curl in your shoes. The door is right there, you could try your luck. Oh, but when you look at him from the corner of your eye, you realize that’s impossible - his eyes are solely on you. Watching your every move, every twitch, every exhale and inhale. His attention to detail is clear as day when he calls you ‘cute’ once he notices how you caught on.

Your stomach churns.

He starts to talk again, and for once he doesn’t lean in closer or hold the back of your neck or head. “You’re right - he’s just a boy… setting aside the fact he could easily take on a good amount of the regular guards.” His reply is accompanied with a lazy smirk.

You blink, turning your head to face him. You’re still trembling, still holding back screams and sobs the longer he stays here. But, you needed to say something, slightly annoyed he’s knowingly ignoring what you meant. “I-I am fully a- aware of that,” your body twitches as you look down to the side, “and I kn - know you know what I me-mean.”

You can’t stop stuttering. It’s embarrassing, it makes you feel like a child. But how can you talk properly to a man that gladly assisted in taking your freedom away? His pretty little songbird.

Your husband hums in thought before pushing back a few strands of hair behind your ear. He takes a step back when you do.

How considerate of him.

Was silence always this painful? Or was it just his suffocating presence that taints the air around you? Are you really going to suffer being his wife, a part of this family for the rest of your life, no matter how short?

Was your sin so offensive that it carried over to this world?

While you’re drowning in your anxiety and panic, Dion merely looks at you. Shamefully, day by day it gets harder and harder to just limit himself to fleeting touches. He’s all too painfully aware that you’re terrified of him, that you despise being here and to bear his last name.

He knows it’s not romantic. That it’s dangerous and all kinds of fucked up. But his feelings for you are genuine, no matter how twisted. He wonders if that realization would only drive you away once you get it.

It’s not romantic but it’s the closest thing he knows to it. And it makes everything all the more ironic.

Soon, he’ll learn the price of pushing and pushing and pushing.

Both of you are startled by three knocks at the door, too caught up in your thoughts to even hear the footsteps. A regular occurrence for you but an extremely rare one for him. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“My Lady, I have returned with the sleeping pills. May I come in?”

Oh! You forgot all about Hana, how silly of you.

Hana my savior, my hero, God I think you’re my favorite person now and -

“Y-yes!” You squeak out, acting a bit too fast just to open the door yourself. Both your maid and husband are taken aback by this, especially when you hold the door open for her. “Come in.” You usher her, watching as her look of confusion becomes stoney once Dion enters her field of vision, standing tall, towering over both of you.

She bows her head as she continues to hold a silver tray with the pills on it. Unnecessary to carry it just for measly pills, but the fact she’s here at all improves your mood significantly. You’re so caught up in her that you don’t see the way Dion’s eye twitches before his expression becomes true neutral as he sees how warm you are with her.

“Greetings, Young Master.” She doesn’t spare him another glance as her attention returns to you. “My Lady, what time do you plan on retiring to bed?” She places the tray on the nightside table and it’s only then do you notice it.

Red wrappers hiding away the appearance of small balls rests on the tray. Watching as she takes the three pieces of what you assume to be candy and pills off the tray, you give her an answer. Your eyes never leave the candies, though.

“Um… around eight, I suppose.” Currently it’s three in the afternoon. And currently, you’re doing your best to ignore your husband’s horrible stare. But thanks to Hana being here, it doesn’t burn as hot.

Yes, you think. It was a good thing you helped her out back with Maria. Any other maid wouldn’t be able to withstand Dion’s presence more than her. Not batting an eye right after greeting him and yet, you don’t sense any hostility from him towards Hana.

Unlike with the guards from last night.

How… odd.

Oh. right. Dion was the one who assigned her to you. Meaning most likely he didn’t have any animosity towards her. Then, it hits you -

There’s a reason she’s here.

You bite your lip, holding back a cold shiver that threatens to crawl down your spine. No. Right now isn’t the time to think about such things. Right now is the time to thank her with a small smile, hoping your eyes aren’t showing your worries.

“O-oh,” you gesture to the candy with your head, “if I may ask, where did the candy come from?”

“Ah, yes. Young Master Jeremy requested that I give them to you. To take away the sour taste.”

“Oh. He’s sweet. But what does he mean by ‘sour taste?” Your gut tells you that it concerns Dion. Your guess is confirmed when Hana glances at him, figuring out a way to explain without offending the man.

Your husband decides to answer in her stead.

“His new hobby is butting in with things that don’t concern him.” Clearly annoyed, your husband eyes them, scarlet narrowing into slits. Despite this, he doesn’t make a move to dispose of them or send them back.

His answer implies that the candy serves as a ‘fuck you’ to his older half-brother. Wait, doesn’t this mean that Jeremy waited for Hana? Or was it just a coincidence they crossed paths?

“He’s been carrying candy with him for a while now,” Dion says like he just read your mind. His boots echo in the room until he’s standing at your side once more. His scent makes your nerves go into overdrive, gulping down a cry for help. When Hana turns back around to take her leave, you offer a wavering smile.

“Thank you, Hana… oh, later today can you help me pick out a small gift for him? As thanks for the candy.” Truthfully, you don’t want to see the youth. His big eyes filled with an adoration held for a sibling is misdirected at you - be it for a test or a craving for something that is vastly different from what is brewed in this family.

You hate how it reminds you of the sassy twelve-year-old who sneaks into your room in the early morning. Of how it reminds you of the way your own brother would buzz around you like a bee when he was done with his tasks for the day, or simply didn’t want to be alone, his stupid grin, his stupid remarks that made your eye twitch and -

… you miss Zac.

“Yes, My Lady. I am ready whenever you are.”

She hesitates before leaving, glancing at Dion and then at you. In the end she bows her head, carrying the silver tray with her. It becomes quiet when the door shuts behind her.

A rabbit left alone with the wolf.

Fuck… I should have gone with Hana, you lament, the opportunity that once presented itself was now gone in the blink of an eye.

“You seem close.” Dion states after observing your short interaction. “It does hurt a bit that my own wife is close with everyone else but me.” He teases, but something akin to ‘hurt’ lays barely hidden in his words.

Hah. Sucks to suck.

“... arranged wife.” Murmuring under your breath, you ignore the way his body twitches at your addition. Surely this man isn’t under the impression that you have begun to open up to the idea of accepting him merely because you let him have a few fleeting touches here and there. Or having silly ‘hope’ or an expectation that you will fall into his lap at some point in the future.

Whatever reason he had for keeping you was still a mystery. You could only guess, but every one only spelled imprisonment and suffering on your behalf.

“Right.” Dion doesn’t say anything else, but looks at you instead. A bit passes before he opens his mouth again, delivering news that makes your skin crawl at the implication yet soothes one of your worries.

“Father plans on putting you on conceptions starting tonight.” He delivers it so bluntly you almost mistook it for a joke.

“Oh,” you say, somewhat grateful while extremely disgusted at the implied nightly activities your father-in-law presumes you engage in with his son. At least this means he doesn’t expect a grandchild anytime soon. “That’s… fine. Great, even.”

Your husband doesn’t react to your relief of not having to bear his child just yet. Like he expected it - a quick glance and it doesn’t even look like he was bothered by it. Perhaps the thought of a child might upset him to a degree - after all, having a child would mean all of your attention would be on them and not him.

It’s clear he’s not fond of sharing. Even so, you can’t help but frown at how jealous he can be. Possessive or not, one should not be jealous of their own child receiving attention that they need.

Silence resumes. Fidgeting with your fingers, you do your best to ignore the strong effort it takes to breathe in a single breath. You should make an excuse to leave. Call for Hana and start to look for a gift for Jeremy. Lie and say you feel sick, kicking him out.

Anything. Anything to avoid his burning gaze, to get out of his presence that chokes you. To escape the one place he always seems to corner you in, behind closed doors as longing touches grazes your skin, with the only time he leaves you alone completely is when you’re laying down on the bed meant for two.

Instead all you do is stay in place. In place while your husband looks like he’s ready to pounce on you - either in a sexual or ‘loving’ manner, it doesn’t matter. Both make you want to vomit. Alias, it’s not like you will always be able to avoid intimate touches forever. Lust is a state that many feel and sometimes give into, and considering he had a few erections, it’s clear that, unfortunately, he is one of them who feels it.

The only thing you’re willing to offer are your hands or mouth. You’ll even swallow if it means he doesn’t try to escalate things further and penetrate you.

“... you’re… you’re staring ra-rather hard.” Your voice cracks. It doesn’t even sound like yours, it sounds like a dying woman’s.

Ever so gently, hesitance obvious in his actions, one of his hands cups your cheek. You jolt, startled at his cold touch. He feels like a dead person. These same hands that hold you ‘lovingly’ are the same hands that have strangled the life out of numerous victims, enemies and family members alike.

Goosebumps form on your skin. You’re starting to feel like a corpse, your lifeforce slowly draining away at his touch.

Frozen, you can’t react as he lifts your chin up, and your eyebrows furrow in dread and eyes widen in fear when you see how soft his expression is. Like this ‘side’ of him was reserved for you and you alone.

Your husband opens his mouth only to close it. And when he does decide to talk, he says -

“You’re beautiful.”

You laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh, crazed as you stumble away from him. You shake your head violently. He’s crazy, this is insane, he shouldn’t be like this. None of this should be happening.

He shouldn’t be playing house with you, he should be obsessing over his sister. He shouldn’t be here, gentle, instead he should be on the battlefield, acting as either Lant’s or Roxana’s dog depending on the timeline. He shouldn’t be spewing out nonsense, he should be out-performing everyone in this household.

He shouldn’t be involved with anything ‘romantic’ or sexual.

“St-stop. Stop. Just - please, just stop. I-I ca-can’t take much more of this.” You keep walking backwards until you hit the edge of the bed. Your body becomes heavy and falls onto the mattress, a creak echoing in the bedroom.

“... you drive me insane.” He should leave you alone. Walk out the doors and let you have alone time. But his feet start moving before he even thinks about anything else. Like a moth to the flame, he burns himself while fanning your flames, embers spitting out.

Dion stops right in front of you, gets on one of his knees. Your husband takes one of your hands into his and you almost throw up on the spot. Your nerves are wrecked and fried, and for a moment, you think that you’re in an awful, awful nightmare.

Dion knows he should walk away. But you’re a magnet he’s drawn to and despite his efforts, he only scares you instead of giving you peace. Giving you more reasons to detest him than ‘love’ him.

He knows he should back off. Maybe leave with a kiss to the back of your hand, as suggested by Ash. Instead he’s doing everything that the doctor advised against, needing to swallow you whole.

He really is a horrible husband.

Still, you’re just so -

“You drive me insane. I’ll bark if you tell me to, if it means you’ll finally look my way.”

= = =

tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @pix-stuff @queenofspades403 @manitscold @s-ajia @disappointment-san @darkumbreon92 @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee @rentaldarling

#yandere x reader #twtptflob #the way to protect the female leads older brother #dion agriche #dion agriche x reader #yandere dion agriche #yandere dion agriche x reader #deon agrece #yandere twtptflob #twtptflob x reader #yandere the way to protect the female leads older brother #roxana #jeremy agriche #yandere male

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finleyforevermore · 2 days ago

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Discussions of death, suicide, overdose, transphobia, facism, and politics under the cut. Do not read if those are upsetting or triggering topics for you. Thank you.

A year ago, on this day, Nex Benedict passed away.

Nex was a Two-Spirit non-binary sophomore who attended Owasso High School. The day before his death, he was attacked by students who were making rude comments about him and his friend. When Nex retaliated by pouring water on them, the students physically assaulted him, beating Nex until they lost consciousness. Nex had scrapes and bruises following the fight and went to sleep that night with a sore head.

The next day, Nex collapsed in their living room, with their eyes rolled back and struggling to breathe.

Nex's death was declared a suicide by an overdose on Prozac and Benadryl, in spite of the fact that taking those medications rarely ever lead to death.

The actual cause of Nex's death remains up in the air; some people believe it was really suicide, others believe it was from the injuries sustained from the fight the day before.

And may i say; if it was a suicide, it was committed DUE to the bullying he suffered. Blood remains on the school's hands for doing nothing.

Their death remains nothing short of a tragedy, regardless of the cause. Nex was only 16 years old. He loved reading, nature, drawing, Minecraft, and their cat Zeus. They were a strong and tough person who hid behind those walls to earn respect, but deep down, he was a truly compassionate, sweet, and thoughtful person. They'd cook pancakes and chicken wings with mixed-up spice for their friend/ex-partner. Nex was deeply brave and extremely intelligent; lit up a room just from entering.

So much potential for an incredible life. Such a beautiful, deeply incredible and wonderful person. Someone who reminds me so much of so many of my friends.

And now he's gone.

He should have turned 17 on January 12th this year.

Their death has been mocked by people online, the Oklahoma superintendent himself, Ryan Walters, even went as far to insult and misgender Nex.

The Oklahoma governor even stated the following: "We are a Republican state - supermajority - in the House and Senate. I represent a constituency that doesn't want that filth in Oklahoma." What a monster.

But in spite of how deeply gut-wrenching and horrible this all is, we must continue to move forward and stay strong. With a racist, facist, sexist idiot currently in the oval office, and a Nazi essentially acting as right-hand man, now more than ever, queer people and queer allies must fight back. Let themselves be known. Not feel an ounce of regret or embarrassment for who they are. As hackneyed and trite of a statement it is, be yourself. Don't let any person stop you from being the beautiful individual you are.

It seems hopeless but that's what they WANT. They WANT you to give up hope and conform. But millions of our queer ancestors did not fight like hell for our rights, just so we could throw in the towel. They fought and they conquered. So can we.

Be brave. Be intelligent. Be a fighter. Be a conqueror. Be you. Nex was. So can you.

I love you, Nex.

I love you all.

So for me, and for him, say his name. And say it proud.

And say it LOUD.

NEX BENEDICT!

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noahthesatanist · 3 days ago

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The Erased History of Theistic Satanism: Lucifer’s Truth Existed Long Before LaVey

Let’s start with the obvious: OF COURSE there aren’t ancient manuscripts explicitly titled "The Holy Book of Lucifer's Worshippers in the Year 666." Do people not understand that even in 2025, theistic Satanists are still attacked, mocked, and ostracized even by so-called “Satanists” who cry about how we make them look bad? If we, in an era of “freedom,” still face this much hatred, then what the fuck do you think happened to people openly worshipping Lucifer a thousand years ago? They were slaughtered, they had their text destroyed these sycophants want Yahweh in charge

And yet, even with that, we still have records we still have evidence proving that people opposed Yahweh and aligned with Lucifer centuries before LaVey. We have historical documentation of an actual Luciferian sect in the Rhineland, near Cologne, Mainz, and Trier. The group was led by a woman named Lucardis and was exposed by the Papal Inquisition. And what did they believe?

Lucifer was a benevolent deity who was unjustly banished from Heaven.

He would one day reclaim his rightful position.

Fasting and ascetic practices could help Lucifer regain his throne.

Enlightenment was the ultimate goal.

Truth and freedom of will were essential.

Worshiping the inner self was important.

Traditional dogma was not a basis for morality.

Does any of this sound familiar? Oh, I don’t know like an actual, historical form of Theistic Satanism?

1231. That is over 700 years before LaVey even existed. If Luciferianism was 'just an invention of the Church to discredit people,' why would they write about it in historical records? Why would they even need to invent it unless there were people actually embracing it? Now, of course, the skeptics rush in with their predictable response: “Oh, the Church invented this to discredit people.”

Do you even hear yourselves?

You guys really think the Catholic Church spent centuries meticulously fabricating entire religious movements just to trick modern historians? That they carefully detailed Luciferian rites and beliefs rituals, philosophy, theology just to frame people? Do you think they were writing propaganda in 1234 for Reddit atheists in 2025?

But sure, let's pretend the Church sat around going:

"You know what would be really useful? Faking an entire Luciferian movement, describing its theological framework, and then wiping it out. That’ll be a fun weekend project.”

The amount of mental gymnastics required to believe this is astounding. And if anything creating these fucking groups WOULD JUST TURN PEOPLE TO IT YOU FUCKING IDIOTS "oh no guys we cant have anyone challenge yahweh quick write a whiole new fucking religion detailing how to oppose yahweh or we are doomed!" Do you people think no one in history ever had original thoughts? That not a single person ever read the Bible, Torah, or Quran and thought, “Wow, Yahweh is an insane tyrant”? That not one soul, across millennia, looked at Lucifer’s story and saw him as the true liberator? That’s what you’re really arguing

"Where are the manuscripts? Where are the ancient texts dedicated to Lucifer as Satan?"

Gee, I don’t know maybe they were destroyed by the very people who hunted down and slaughtered everyone who openly defied Yahweh? The Cathars, a 12th–14th century Christian Gnostic sect, didn’t just see Yahweh as flawed—they outright rejected him as an evil entity. Many of them were dualists, believing in two opposing gods: a false, tyrannical creator (Yahweh, the Demiurge) and a higher, true god of light. Sound familiar? Yeah, because that aligns perfectly with Luciferian thought.

The Cathars were brutally exterminated in the Albigensian Crusade (1209–1229) because they were gaining traction. The Vatican wouldn’t have slaughtered an entire sect of people if they weren’t afraid of what they were spreading. “Lucifer was just stolen from other myths! Satanists are just appropriating ancient deities!”

Oh yeah? Who the fuck are you to decide how Lucifer manifests?

Lucifer is Lucifer is Lucifer. Just because his name wasn’t always Lucifer doesn’t mean he wasn’t there. The idea that Lucifer the fallen light-bringer, the adversary to tyranny, the true liberator only existed because the Church “stole” him from other myths is the dumbest, most reductionist, historically illiterate nonsense imaginable. It is atheist projection at its finest. Atheists have this bizarre, cult-like belief that all religious leaders were lying manipulators and all religious followers were brainwashed cattle. That’s some real low-IQ, black-and-white thinking. Do you honestly believe that every priest, every monk, every heretic, and every mystic throughout human history was just faking it for power?

Just because your only gods are Netflix, porn, and Twitter dopamine hits doesn’t mean people in the past were like you.

They actually believed in things. They actually thought about the divine. They feared and revered forces beyond themselves. They dedicated their entire lives sometimes at the cost of their own deaths to ideas greater than materialism. But no, you, the enlightened neckbeard, sitting in your mother’s basement in 2025, are convinced they were all just power-hungry grifters, right? "All these different cultures described the same archetype, but instead of taking that as evidence of a universal truth, I'm going to claim they just copied each other because my Reddit professor told me so." Are you seriously trying to tell me that the concept of a rebel light-bringer, a being cast down for defying an unjust authority, a figure who brings knowledge to humanity against divine decree just… accidentally appears in mythology across vastly different civilizations, and that means Lucifer isn’t real?

Oh, so when different cultures worship the sun, that’s natural and independent development, but when they all recognize the light-bringer archetype, it’s suddenly “theft”?

Bullshit.

Lucifer is Prometheus. Lucifer is Enki. Lucifer is Melek Taus. Lucifer is the Morning Star in all its forms.

Not because he was “stolen,” but because he chooses how he manifests.

Just like Yahweh was worshipped under different names by different desert tribes before he became the psychotic control freak of the Abrahamic faiths, Lucifer has been known by different names throughout time. That doesn’t make him fake. That doesn’t make his worship "appropriation." It just means people have been calling out to him for thousands of years in the ways they understood.

Who the fuck are you to say that’s not valid?

Projecting Your Empty, Atheist Misery onto the Past

The real reason atheists and materialists push this idea that Lucifer was just a stolen concept is because they can’t stand the idea that spiritual rebellion is real. They want to reduce everything to a man-made power struggle because that’s the only way they can understand the world.

They need everything to be cynical and meaningless, because if it’s not, then they might have to face the horrifying possibility that they’re wrong.

That’s why they insist:

That all gods are “just myths,”

That all ancient people were “just ignorant,”

That all heresies were “just misunderstandings,”

That all religious texts were “just political tools.”

No. Ancient people weren’t all mindless drones. Not every church leader was a scheming villain. Not every spiritual belief was just about controlling peasants.

People saw through Yahweh’s lies long before LaVey, long before modern Satanists, and long before Reddit atheism turned skepticism into a religion.

And guess what? They paid for it in blood.

The Cathars were burned alive. The Luciferian heretics of the 13th century were exterminated. The Gnostics were wiped out. The Bogomils were hunted to extinction. The Yezidis were slaughtered. You think all these groups were just accidentally targeted for believing in something fake? That all these movements were just coincidentally aligned with Luciferian thought, and yet Lucifer wasn’t real?

That’s just historical illiteracy.

You Are Not Enlightened, You’re Just an Arrogant Ghoul

People today are dumber than ever. They think their modern skepticism makes them smarter than every human before them, when in reality, they are so disconnected from reality, from history, and from spirituality that they might as well be corpses.

These people worship nothing but consumerism and nihilism. Their only "spirituality" is addiction, distraction, and self-worship in the shallowest, most pathetic way possible. And then they have the audacity to look down on the ancients who actually believed in something.

So no, Lucifer was not “stolen.” Lucifer is not a misunderstanding. Lucifer is not just a Christian creation.

Lucifer has always been. Lucifer is Lucifer is Lucifer.

And the more you deny it, the more you prove how utterly blind and soulless you are.

#satanism #satanic #theistic luciferianism #theistic satanism #hail satan #hail lucifer #lucifer #luciferian #occult #ave satanas #ave lucifer #lucifer deity #lucifer devotee #lord lucifer #lucifer offering #luciferianism #traditional satanism #f

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