#the easy to understand explanation of the situation

[2000sangel]

I’ve actually had this one in my head for a few days: lightner!reader abruptly disappears from the dark world. For like,,, WEEKS. In the light world, they’re had to suddenly attend to and emergency situation or been in an emergency themselves (like ending up in the hospital or something) and they have no way to contact tenna and tell him that they haven’t just up and abandoned him! And so when they’re finally able to return home and get back to the tv world…. emotions might be running high >:3 💖💖💖

-✨

Hey so!! I want to be a little serious here and lay down a Warning for potentially toxic behaviors (and mentions of a loved one being at the hospital).

This is Hurt/Comfort but also a way for me to explore the Tenna BPD Headcanon which I'm not sure if I portrayed well without making him come off as awful or as like...'woobified' (I don't like that word, but I don't know how else to get my point across).

I was able to reflect on some things while writing this, too, so I hope it doesn't entirely suck. Enjoy! :,)

Tenna x Reader - Short fic - "Misconstruction"

This incident has taken everything out of you; between the constant worry following it, the trips to the hospital to make sure everything was okay with your loved one, and the never-ending anxiety of a call that might or might not come, after these two weeks…you're totally spent.

They're okay now, thankfully, and have also been relocated to a hospital closer to where you live, so you don't have to make a big amount of planning before deciding to visit.

What you've hated through this all though, is your inability to visit the Dark World and your partner, Tenna; obviously, your phone isn't reachable while there, and same thing applies to you as a whole. Plus, between this emergency and your usual work shifts, you haven't physically found the time to enter the alternate reality in two weeks.

So, even though you're exhausted, the guilt you feel overrides your physical state, and you enter the Dark World as soon as you have the first free afternoon.

The studio is as busy as ever, Darkners running left and right with either documents to sign or props that will be needed for the next show. You almost bump straight into some of them, apologizing profusely for possibly slowing down the crew.

It takes you a while to find Tenna; he's not on stage, as this is not the usual time he's on air, he's not in his private office or changing room either, and you haven't noticed him walking around the studio either -something quite easy to do, considering his size-.

What's left are the conference rooms, that despite having easy access to the rest of the place thank to being his partner, you obviously can't just barge into unprompted.

So you wait, seated outside the one he's usually needed in, as you can hear his voice coming from inside. You close your eyes now and then, and zone out out of tiredness, but manage to keep yourself awake until you hear the door being opened.

Some workers step out of it, wide eyed when they notice your presence- obviously they know who you are, so you don't really get why they must be acting like they've seen a ghost instead.

The Darkners make space for Tenna, who exits the room last; you immediately stand up, an apologetic smile appearing on your face, which slightly falters when he notices you and he doesn't reciprocate it at all.

“Oh. It's- It's you.”

He sounds conflicted, like he's feeling different emotions that don't necessarily make sense paired with one another. His body language suggests so, too.

“Of course it's me,” you decide to grant him an explanation straight away, though before you can do so he interrupts you.

“Where…have you been?”

“...I was about to explain, I had an-”

“No, scratch that, I shouldn't…I shouldn't even be talking to you right now.”

His choice of words surprises you, direct and…almost repulsed. You don't understand, but at the same time you understand completely.

Leaving without coming back for days, weeks…showing no signs of life whatsoever for that whole time; who knows what he must've thought and felt.

At this point your smile is completely gone, replaced by a frown.

“What…no, Tenna, let me explain before coming to conclusions…?” he's avoiding your gaze now, conflicted about whether he should be leaving or not, “Please?”

. . .

Eventually he leads you to his office, where you can talk more privately at least. He looks like he's barely holding it together as he sits behind his large desk, which you notice is a mess of papers, some of them crumpled.

You don't sit like you usually do, though, merely leaning on the opposing chair, the air tense;

“Do you know how you made me feel?”

He's speaking faster than usual as he massages the bridge of his nose, screen flickering;

“If you could just let me explain-”

“What kind of explanation could you possibly have?”

He's not quite yelling, but he does sound mad and like he's already settled on a very specific scenario that must've kept you from visiting him.

“An emergency!” you cry out before he can interrupt you once again, “I had a family member at the hospital, Tenna!”

You bring one of your hands to cover your mouth when he slightly jumps, taken aback;

“I-I had no way of contacting you and I couldn't risk them calling while I was here-”

“You could've done it for a short time-”

“What…” you frown, stopping yourself from reacting badly. You then take a deep breath, “Okay, maybe I could've…but just what did you think I was doing for all this time…?”

He looks extremely guilty, screen now completely black and antennas lopsided, he's even begun to shrink a little.

There's a short moment of awkward silence.

“A-An emergency…really?”

You blink.

“Yes, Tenna, I promise that's what it was. And then I had work, and I was exhausted, and I kept looking at my phone and hoping for good news. That's why I couldn't come, and…” Your heart beats faster as you consider saying something like ‘they’re fine now, thanks for asking’, but you decide against it; “...and I don't know. I don't know what you thought, but it wasn't that.”

Fixated on your monologue, you almost miss the sound of Tenna's breath hitching, his palms now covering the spot his eyes would be if he had any.

“W-Wow. I'm an ass, aren't I?” he digs his palms deeper into his screen, biting on his lower lip to choke back what you assume is a sob.

Despite the misunderstanding you had, you quickly walk to his side, grasping his chair and turning it so he's now facing you.

“H-Hey, hey, what's this? Tenna, what-”

“I just thought you left me!!” he blurts out, shrinking even more. You're basically the same height now. “I-It’s stupid after hearing your explanation but?! You're asking, so there's your answer…!”

You sense he's craving touch by the way he has slid towards you with his chair, so you tentatively hover your arm beside his waist;

“Maybe we can hug while talking, what do you think…?”

Your partner nods, all attempts to hide his sobs going out the window once your arms wrap around each other's bodies;

“Please…” he manages to say, and you hum to encourage him to continue, “...ju-ust, I don't even know, I think I need…”

“...Reassurance?” you suggest, and he nods against your cheek, “I love you, Tenna, and I'm sorry…if it happens again, I'll…I'll make sure to find a moment to warn you, okay?”

“I-I’m sorry too, for this, for earlier, for the mess, for not understanding- I'm just, a bad par-”

You stop him right there with a squeeze before leaning back so you can look at his face; he's frowning, cheeks glossy with pixely tears rolling down them. You've seen him sad, you've seen him cry before, but even though you're not exactly in the wrong here you feel a pang of guilt in your chest thinking about the fact that he must've thought you were abandoning him, deep-rooted issues surfacing because of something you could've somehow prevented.

You don't find it in you to completely blame yourself though, and neither to completely blame him. Some things you can't just expect or prevent from happening, you suppose.

“Don't. Don't say that, this is just…something that happened, okay? And you can't really compare to…other relationships.” You sadly remind him, and he sighs in understanding.

“I love you too…I'm sorry, again, I'll- I'll do better, won't cut you off anymore, or anything like that…ahah…and just,” he inhales sharply, “just say it if changes are needed, okay?”

You nod, glad that he's calming down enough to speak more clearly.

“Okay, Tenna, I promise I will. And you don't assume the worst immediately, right? Something like this could happen again. Just trust me when I say I wouldn't just up and leave.”

You're aware that when issues like this arise, some reassurance and a hug aren't enough to solve anything definitely at all.

Though you're one step closer to helping him through it, you assume. And both of your boundaries might need to be worked on later, too.

[statementlou]

Why do you think there’s a big part of the fandom that sees Louis as such a victim that they basically erase his intelligence, or think Harry is some kind of greedy villain who's sabotaging Louis’ career??

I mean, I’ve read a lot of different takes on both of them, but that one feels the most bizarre and far from reality.

They’re both closeted, and that makes them victims of the system. They’re both artists with highly curated images and contracts that are still restrictive—maybe not as bad as 1D, but still tight I guess. And obviously, both of them carry emotional consequences from closeting, which I don’t think we’ll ever fully understand.

That said, we all know Louis never had it easy, and yeah, it’s clear the label threw obstacles his way. But it bothers me when people frame him as a total victim and completely overlook his intelligence and ability to negotiate. Everyone knows that back in the 1D days, Louis was the strategic one, basically the leader when it came to big-picture decisions for the band. I think people really underestimate him and the success of his career, just because they compare him to artists like Olivia Rodrigo who have a totally different target audience.

As for Harry, I guess I kind of get why the gp might see him as greedy or something, because of his public circle, maybe the womanizer narrative that’s been following him since he was literally a teenager. And yeah, in some ways he’s the perfect target because of the way he is, how he communicates, and how closed-off he’s become lately, which means he doesn’t say anything about the fake stuff people say. But if you’ve been here since 1D, I don’t get how you could believe he’s some young version of Irving zoff trying to take over the industry. That’s just… not it.

Personally, I think both of them learned a lot from their time in 1D and have been using that experience in their solo careers. I think they have outsourced most of the things related to their images™ (Harry's been doing it since 2021 and Louis recently I think). They just want to make good music and stay commercially successful enough to keep touring and have a great career. Sometimes the explanation really is that simple—even if their situation is still super complex.

Yeah I think you make a lot of good points, in particular the last paragraph. As for the actual why, basically one person with some serious personal issues and projection going on created that story as it currently exists (specifically the part about Harry being out to sabotage Louis), but it wouldn't have taken hold so widely if it didn't appeal strongly to people. Nothing like a good old fashioned victim/villain story to get people invested and make them feel like they are joining a Cause! And the easy simplicity of having a Good Guy who needs your help and a Bad Guy who is the ENEMY and no distressing complexity in an otherwise confusing world, it's got an unbeatable draw. But additional thoughts and bits: I think fandom treats time as a flat thing, things from years ago are considered as valid as things from yesterday in a way that makes it hard to impossible to accept change and this impacts solos' ability to see how things have changed for the better for Louis, that he IS DOING GREAT ACTUALLY. But also part of it is that accepting that would mean not being needed and important in the same way, and finding a new driving purpose to fandom. I think you see a similar thing with larries who think they've broken up but don't say so because they want to still get to be accepted and part of the community; the solo circles also require buy-in to certain ideas, so it's easier to just believe what people are saying as fact and get to fit in and be part of the fun. Also we can't know but I don't agree about the contracts; I think they have both chosen and negotiated their current contracts and that they aren't obligated to pretend to date people but rather choose to do that. I do however think they choose to do that for reasons that include the fact that they're oppressed by... everything <waves hands at society generally>... and the ways they were shaped by what they were told, endlessly, as vulnerable children and how it got in their heads, although I strongly disagree with people who claim it wouldn't impact their career statuses to come out.

[ohmarjorie]

Pmdd is actively fucking ruining my life fuck fuck this shittt

Why do I have to live with the consequences of things I do when I'm like this and why do i only get one good week a month if I'm lucky

[dollfacefantasy]

clark kent x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, mating press a/n: ummm yeah i need him so bad it makes me ill <3

for as long as you'd known clark, you'd never known him to lose his temper. he was forever-patient, your boyfriend. understanding to almost a frustrating degree. especially with you, his little love.

he was already pretty easy to get along with, but on the rare occasion you did have issues, clark seemed to have a natural instinct for deescalating you. he never raised his voice, never spoke an unkind word about you, never gave you a look harsher than what could be described as stern.

all it took to calm you down was a glimpse of his natural puppy-dog eyes and pretty plush lips. his thick arms would circle around you and hold you to his chest. he'd sway back and forth with you a little, a small smile on his face as you melted into the embrace. whatever semblance of tension or irritation that had been bubbling up easily dissolved into a puddle between the two of your bodies.

so, all that to say, you didn't really believe clark possessed any kind of rough edge or combative instinct. despite his large stature, you couldn't really picture him ever being rough.

that was until tonight.

you and clark had planned to drop by some event at the talon, but your sweet boyfriend had warned you earlier that he found out there'd probably be some trouble there later. some potentially dangerous situation that he wanted you avoiding at all costs. it was for your safety. he just wanted you to stay home where he wouldn't be worried while him and chloe investigated.

but did you listen to him? of course not. you went anyways, not in the mood to listen to his vague explanations as to how he even discovered this information in the first place. you put on a cute little dress with some new shoes you bought specifically for the night and took off.

unfortunately for you, clark had turned out to be right. not even thirty minutes after you arrived, chaos broke out. people flew through walls and glass shattered everywhere, all because of some guy who looked like his body could stretch and bend like a rubberband. it totally sucked. but none of that was even the worst part. you survived the craziness of whatever that person's problem was. the real danger came when the dust settled and you saw clark across the room staring at you.

he looked pissed.

he was at your side in an instant, but closing the distance didn't soften him any. it kind of did the opposite since up close he could see a bloody scrape stretching across your cheekbone.

you could see he was worried first and foremost, but behind that concerned top coat a fire burned. as soon as your small wound had been tended to, his long fingers clasped around your bicep. he pulled you to your feet and all but dragged you out of the coffee shop.

"clark i-" you started in an attempt to explain yourself.

"save it," he said, voice as cold as you'd ever heard it, "i asked you for one thing. that's it. stay home for your own good. don't come out here and pointlessly risk your life."

"it wasn't that bad," you defend weakly.

"but why even take the chance?" he asked with true exasperation, "i shouldn't need to convince you that your safety is more important than whatever they had going on tonight."

he didn't continue the lecture beyond that. just walked with a clenched jaw and motivated stare in the direction of his truck. like always, he opened the door for you when you got there. though this time, he practically scooped you up and dumped you into the car.

he was silent as he drove, fingers tight around the steering wheel. you could practically feel the frustration rolling off of him. the urge to lash out for once was near spilling over. he pulled the car over, and you figured you were really in for it. in a way you were right, just not how you thought.

clark didn't bother yelling, didn't try to start a fight. he glared at you for a few silent seconds before leaning across the seats and crashing his lips against yours. he kissed you like he wanted to steal the breath from your lungs.

after a blur of clothing being shifted around and positioning body parts awkwardly in the confined space, you found yourself in the meanest mating press of your life.

you were folded in half beneath all of clark's weight. the points of your new heels scraped up the truck's ceiling while your knees squished against your chest. little squeaks and whines slipped their way out of you as his tip battered against your cervix. he was so deep you swore you could feel your insides rearranging to make room for him.

"clarkkkk," you mewled before biting your lip, desperately searching for some way to ground yourself. one set of your fingers gripped strands of his dark hair while the other held a fist of his flannel.

"what, baby?" he panted. for once, clark wasn't fawning over you between thrusts. he wasn't cooing or praising you for taking him so well. instead, he had his face against your neck and his hands wrapped around your waist, bucking into your dripping heat with enough force to rock the car.

you tried to force out words to convey what you were thinking. too big. too much. so deep. harder. faster. none of those made it though. only choked moans and then a sharp squeal when he rolled his hips and struck that extra-sensitive sweet spot inside you.

"someone's gonna see if they drive by," you whimpered, squirming underneath him.

"maybe you should hold still then and let me finish, huh?" he grunted, "no one's gonna see. everyone's in town dealing with the mess from tonight. the one i told you was gonna happen."

"i didn't think-"

"i know you didn't," he interrupted, "didn't use that pretty little head at all, did you?"

words of defense eluded you right now, his nonstop thrusts keeping your mind cloudy. instead you chose to whine, your lip quivering he rolled his hips deeper yet again.

"oh yeah?" he asked, as if you'd said something coherent.

you opened your mouth again to speak, to really argue back this time, but you were cut off by your own desperate cry when his hands tugged you closer and speared you even further on his cock. you could feel him grinning against your neck at the noise.

"i know, baby. i know you're sorry. you don't have to explain. thinking's too hard for you right now, yeah?" he cooed, his tone bordering on mocking.

your pout got more severe but so did the needy sounds escaping your mouth. you felt those long fangs of his scrape against your throat. his tongue then glided across the area, making you shudder.

"clark-" you tried to say something else, but he cut you off. he raised his head up and kissed you deep again, swallowing the words right from your mouth. when he pulled back for air, he rested his sweaty forehead against yours.

"you can be such a brat," he breathed, "so much whining even though i know you love this."

the truck creaked as his movements continued to jostle it. you felt his breath fanning across your face and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. you knew he was getting close, but so were you. your cunt squeezed around him rhythmically, coaxing him too the edge along with you.

"you gonna cum, baby?" he finally muttered against your lips.

you nodded eagerly, more than ready to release. it only took a few more hard thrusts to get you there, and clark followed along no problem. in the afterglow, he laid on top of you for a minute or so, trapping you in a cage of searing body heat.

when he finally did sit up, the two of you fixed your clothes and stretched your limbs. he looked over at you with more tenderness. your boyfriend's gentle temperament had seemingly returned with the relief his peak brought.

he cupped your jaw with his fingers, looking over that cut on your face. leaning in, he gave it a small kiss before starting up the car again.

"i'm just trying to look out for you, you know? just... please listen next time. i don't know what i'd do if you got hurt. you had me worried sick."

"i will. i'm sorry i scared you," you replied softly. your eyes studied the loving look in his eyes and the way his features seemed so at peace now that all his adrenaline was out of his system.

you grabbed his hand across the seats and traced little patterns on his knuckles for the drive home. he let you play with his fingers but shot you a glance.

"i'm serious. next time you get involved with something like that i won't let you off so easy," he teased.

you smiled and nodded, wanting to put his mind at ease. though in the back of your mind, a small part of you considered trying again some time, just to see what "not so easy" looked like to him.

[luvelydelilah]

Struggling with emotional scenes? Here are some tips for writing emotion!

=========

1. While you’re writing, try to build an explanation for their feelings. What triggered their emotion? Is their reaction rational or are they overreacting? Do they fight, flight, fawn or freeze when provoked? Do they feel threatened? 

=========

2. Show, don’t tell. Describe what is happening instead of plainly stating the situation. Try not to use words like sad, happy, devastated, in pain, angry, nervous, scared, or worried. They cut back on the emotional integrity of the scene and make it hard for readers to connect with your characters. Here are some different behaviors for different emotions.

-Eager-

Bouncing up and down

Unable to sit still

Breathing deeply

Fidgeting

Pretending to do something

Trying to stay busy

Constantly looking at the clock

-Nervous-

Red and hot face

Sweaty palms

Voice cracks

Shaky hands

Biting nails

Biting lips/inside of cheek

Wide eyes

Shallow breathing

Heart racing

-Excited-

Wide smile

Squeal/scream

Bouncing up and down

Fidgeting

Playing with hands

Tapping foot

Talking fast

Tapping pencil

Pacing back and forth

-Scared-

Curling up/bringing knees to head

Closing eyes

Covering ears

Stop breathing or breathing quickly

Biting nails

Shaking

Gritting teeth

Hugging/squeezing something tight

-Frustrated-

Stomping

Grunting/mumbling/yelling

Deep breaths

Red and hot face

Hitting/kicking something

Pointing

Straining/veins become more visible

-Sobbing-

Eyes filling up with tears

Eyes burn/turn red

Red cheeks

Face becomes puffy

Pursed lips

Holding head down

Hyperventilating

Fast blinking

Trying not to blink/holding back tears

-Happy-

Smiling wide

Laughing loudly

Cheeks hurting

Talking loudly

Higher pitched voice

Animated/expressive

-Upset-

Walking slowly/shuffling feet

Head down/avoiding eye contact

Biting inside of cheek

Dissociation

Keeping quiet

Fidgeting

-Bored-

Pacing back and forth

Sighing loudly

Complaining

Fidgeting

Blank face

Looking for something to do

Making up stories

Talking about random topics

=========

3. Try and bring some trauma into your character’s emotions. For example, something might happen that reminds them of a suppressed/traumatic memory. This is an easy way to hook your reader and have them really feel like your character is a real person with real emotions. They might have some internal conflict they need to work through and a certain situation reminds them of that. They might become irritable at the thought of their traumatic experience and they might snap at whoever is nearby. 

=========

4. Most characters won’t dump their entire backstory or feelings in a conversation. Try and reserve your character’s emotions to make more interesting scenes later on. For example, your character may be triggered and someone may ask them what’s wrong. Will they give in, soften up and share? Or will they cut themself off and say they’re fine? Also take into account that your character might not know the other character very well and won’t be comfortable sharing personal information with them, like details regarding their trauma.

=========

5. Last but not least, you don’t need to have a major event happen to connect emotionally with your audience. You don’t have to kill off a character every time you need to spice up your story, even simple interactions can just help your readers understand your character better. Show how they react to certain topics or situations. Describe their feelings, their surroundings, their body language. Their defense mechanisms will help the audience to better understand what kind of person they are.

=========

[luveline]

angsty request coming!!! hotch taking care of an overworked reader who hasn’t been sleeping!! maybe the team notices r has been a bit scattered or feverish and hotch steps in!!!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k Hotch knows, technically, that what he’s doing tonight is out of bounds. He just doesn’t care —can’t find it in himself to regret his actions as he shepherds you from the office and into his car. Doesn’t give your wide-eyed surprise any notice, doesn’t offer explanation as he takes you into the department store between the office and his apartment and tells you to choose. 

“I don’t understand.” 

He nods toward the lines of pointelle camisoles and shorts, gestures to the longer silken trousers, “Choose something to wear.” 

You blink hotly. He’s flustered you, but that’s easy lately. “Do they have anything warmer?” you ask. 

He takes your arm gently into his hand and turns you an inch, where the jersey material pajamas hang from the wall. There’s a nice brown coordinating set right in front of you. He guesses your size (he knows it from practice), pulling a hanger from up high to offer you. “Yes?” he asks. 

“Why?” 

“You’ll need them.” 

You rub your face. “Okay, yeah. I like those ones.” 

He folds them over his arm. He can feel you gaze on the side of his face as he takes you to the register and pays without giving the total any mind. Hotch doesn’t care how much anything costs, he only wants it to be soft. If it weren’t crossing a line, he would’ve found you new underwear, too. 

He accepts the bag from the cashier and guides you out again. “Is there anything else you need?” he asks you. 

“For what?” 

“You aren’t going home.” 

“I’m not?” 

He shakes his head gently. He isn’t being intimidating, only straight forward. Hotch obviously isn’t in the business of kidnapping women, especially coworkers, friends, he just knows now that this won’t be solved without some tough love. “You’re staying with me, if you don’t mind.” 

“Why would I mind?” 

Lethargic, you follow him to the car and get back in the front seat. He turns the heated seats on and watches you sink into the leather, clearly pleased, tired eyes slipping closed every now and then in the ensuing silence. 

Regretfully, you startle as he parks, roused from whatever hooks that had finally managed to hold you. Heat, he thinks, is key here. 

“I’m making oatmeal and cocoa,” he says as he opens the door, waiting for you to follow suit before he continues, “and you can go and get changed. You know where my room is?”

“Sure.” 

“Alright, good. You can make yourself comfortable there.” 

“In your room?” 

He sends you a loving and agitated look over the door. Really? it says. You and Hotch have been trapped in an excitable will-they won’t-they situation for months, and he’d think by now the obvious answer to it all is we most certainly will. “Honey, yes. Unless you’d be more comfortable in Jack’s?” 

“Does he still have the race car bed?” 

“Afraid so.” 

You hum, and lead the way to the house. Hotch hands you his keys, something in his chest tightly squeezed to see you turn the house key in the lock, to let yourself in, and to hold out your hand expectantly for the department bag. You head to his room like you do it everyday. Hotch resists the urge to call you back and kiss you with your jaw held in his hand —it’s not the point. 

He gets a strange pang a few minutes later, stirring the pot of easy-sachet oatmeal, a rare pang of regret. Perhaps he’s being too headstrong, letting his worry guide him like this, pushing you to come home with him and to sleep in his bed. You might be at the same level as he is, but it still feels a little like pulling Spencer home with him and demanding he dress and eat as Hotch likes. 

I’ll apologise, he thinks, setting your oatmeal and cocoa on a tray, conscious of the sun setting outside, night swiftly falling. If he really is going to say sorry and have you go home, you’ll be disrupted again. There’s a possibility Hotch has made this ten times worse. 

He climbs the stairs and finds you laying on his side of the bed with your nose turned into his pillow, a damp sheen to your skin. You’ve washed your face, and changed into the new pajamas, just a little too big for you where you’ve curled around your hands. 

“Honey?” he asks softly. 

“Sorry,” you say, twice as quietly as he had, “just, it smells so nice in here.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“I’ll move.”

“Just sit up,” he says, thinking of you in the office with your jittering and your glass-eyed stare. “I’ve brought you something.” 

You nod heavily and do as he’s asked, again. He sets the tray on your lap and you look up at him. It’s the look that does it, really. The half circles under your eyes are nothing to him beyond proof that you aren’t sleeping, the bloodshot in your sclera, it’s all inconsequential. What floors him is the unquestioning trust to be found when you look at him. He doesn't kid himself when he thinks that this could lend itself to love. 

“You know why I’ve asked you to come home with me?” he asks carefully. 

“I worried you.”

He puts the tray in your waiting lap, gracing your chin with a quick stroke underneath, feather-light. “I haven’t abused my power?” 

“Buying me new clothes and making me dinner?” you ask softly, evident delight on your face as you notice the squares of chocolate that have begun to melt into your oatmeal. 

“Forcing you home with me and sequestering you in my bedroom.” 

“It’s not how I thought it would happen,” you confess, gathering a heaping mountain of oatmeal onto your spoon, “not the first time, at least. I guess I should worry you more often.” 

“No,” he says, holding your chin between his fingers until you meet his serious gaze. “You shouldn’t.” 

Your eyebrows do something he can’t name, but there’s a word for what it inspires in his chest. “I won’t,” you promise. 

[greenglowinspooks]

Hey. Shakes you by the shoulders. DCxDP where Eobard Thawne is Danny’s cool distant “uncle” that he never sees but always sends in the coolest gifts for the holidays.

~

Danny had grown used to seeing people injured at a surprisingly young age.

He wasn’t injured on the regular, or witness to some sort of extraordinary amount of violence; his parents’ lab was just… very volatile, and they were unprofessionally lax on safety measures on the best of days.

As such, when he saw an unconscious, incredibly injured man wearing some sort of superhero suit in their backyard in the early hours of the morning (he had gotten up to get a glass of water when he heard a thump outside), he didn’t panic, as any young child should have in his situation.

No. Instead, Danny dragged the man inside (with considerable difficulty; despite how thin he was, he was heavy), treated his wounds as best he could (it’s difficult for a child younger than 10 to do stitches, you understand), put a blanket over the man, and went back to bed.

After losing a fight to the Flash and passing out in a random suburban lawn, the last thing Eobard was expecting to wake up to was a small child sitting on the floor in front of him, noisily eating a bowl of cereal.

(He had thought, maybe he would have been found by the Flash and brought to some Justice League holding cell. Or, found by a civilian, and brought to the police. Perhaps, in his feverish state, he had remembered the prison he ended up in from his time, with their brands and chemicals and torturous therapies.)

For some unknown reason, this child had found him, not recognized him as the monster he is (perhaps due to the boy’s age), and helped him—even if his healing factor would have fixed him eventually, having all his parts in the right order certainly sped up the process.

Usually he wouldn’t care for civilians. He’d killed enough that he’d lost count what felt like an eternity ago—and yet, somehow, he felt indebted to this boy. This boy, who had helped him so selflessly, who was so entirely clueless to the evil right in front of him.

This boy, who was all alone in an empty house, whose sister was away, whose parents had gone on a trip and left him behind.

(It didn’t matter the explanation the boy gave for it, Eobard’s mind whispered to itself regardless. Kin. Like calling to like.)

And so, he worked hard to free himself from this debt he had incurred.

He traveled through time, working his way into the family whilst posing as a distant relative. It was remarkably easy; the Fentons didn’t have an incredible memory of their relatives; all he had to do was forge a few papers and mention a few people and he was now “Uncle Eo”.

It was, however, taxing on the mind. These people were absurdly friendly, not to mention talkative. The effort had become a multi-year operation, popping in every now and then for large family gatherings and home visits.

It felt… nice, to be wanted for once. To be noticed in his absence for more than just his status.

To be liked.

He made sure to send the boy a gift on the right holidays, as well as on his birthdays. With his skillset, it wasn’t too difficult to follow him around and see what he liked and wanted. It also wasn’t difficult to spy in when he opened them, to ensure that he had done an acceptable job.

Of course, he couldn’t let this sort of thing cut into his time spent fighting the Flash, so he wasn’t too present. The last thing he wanted was to drag trouble into the boy’s life from his presence.

But then, it happened.

He found out that this boy, and the one known in his time as Phantom, were one and the same.

It was, as a historian, thrilling.

It was, as a villain, horrifying.

In all his travels, he had never intended to involve himself with that mysterious being which shadowed the Justice League. That ghost with the power, in some timelines, to bring about the end of all things.

Of course, he was also capable of doing that, but it isn’t exactly fun to meet someone who’s powers are a match for your own.

Especially if you couldn’t find it in yourself to end him, should he make himself your enemy.

Still, he had a debt to repay, and a boy to look after.

He delivered things to the boy’s room to help him; tactical gloves, a lightweight protective suit, weapons and equipment. All uncredited, since the boy seemed to value the idea of a secret identity.

He took it upon himself to shift the odds in his favor a few times, even; making faster-than-light adjustments to the boy and his combatants during fights to shift the odds in his favor.

Somewhere along the years, he had formed some sort of odd affection for the boy, if he was capable of doing so at all.

And so, when that ghost-boy sought his Uncle Eo out all the way in Central City, carved open and scarred, a distant look in his eyes, he took him in without a second thought.

He would protect this boy, who once had protected him.

[awearywritersworld]

there can be no covenants between men and lions

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: sukuna would rather contemplate your murder than come to terms with his feelings for you, but you call him out on his bullshit. w/c: 3k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. aged up!yuuji. heavy kissing. features yuuji x reader and he is, of course, best boy. cursing. sukuna decides he wants to kill you (so obviously there are mentions of murder and such) but cant even stand the sight of you upset, what a goof. i'd once again like to think sukuna's not too ooc in this but im still more than likely delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i was so touched by all of the love that part one received, i wanted to try my hand at part two. i hope i've done it justice! just as part one references homer's the odyssey, this references homer's the illiad because sukuna is very hot and well read. achilles, the protagonist of the novel, is discussed. i'm definitely open to writing a part three, because this one is much heavier on the angst and i miss soft sukuna from part one. series masterlist // masterlist

you and yuuji rarely argue, but when you do, it's often over his aversion toward seriousness, even when a situation calls for it. though you really should have kept your mouth shut, because in this moment, you'd give anything to see his typical carefree expression.

his eyes are regarding you intently, taking in your flustered appearance with knitted brows.

"yuuji..." you trail off, wracking your brain for an explanation of your current predicament.

despite the fact he regained control of his body only moments ago, one of his hands is curled around the back of your neck, while the other is resting on your hip.

"baby, what happened?" he presses, the tone of his voice entirely unreadable.

"s-sukuna," is all you can manage to choke out.

his eyes darken immediately, his jaw tensing in a way that intimidates you. "he hurt you."

you really can't tell if it's a question or a statement, and your response comes a little too quickly. "no! that's not... no."

the next few seconds tick by in a slow sort of agony, heat creeping up your cheeks.

he notices for the first time that his head is eerily quiet. no snide remarks, no scathing commentary. just his own thoughts as he pieces together the situation.

his gaze drops to the angry, red marks littering your neck and you watch in helpless horror as understanding passes his features.

"oh."

the word hangs in the air as you await his reaction, fully anticipating disgust and betrayal. you're positive it's only a matter of time before he throws you out of the apartment and tells you to never come back.

what you don't expect, however, is the way his shoulders relax as the tension leaves his face.

he straightens himself, arms falling to his sides, but he doesn't put any distance between your bodies.

"how long have you...?" he's not quite sure how to phrase the question.

"a few months. this was the first time anything... um... happened. we usually just talk."

he tilts his head to the side, so you clarify. "after you've fallen asleep."

mulling over the information, he hums in response, looking thoughtful for a few more seconds. then, his usual demeanor is back and he grabs your hand. "wanna get dinner? i'm starving!"

he tugs you a few feet toward the door before you come to your senses. "woah, woah. wait a second, yu."

when he looks back at you expectantly, you find that his face holds not one hint of bitterness or judgement. "aren't you angry?"

you're amazed to find that he's the one looking sheepish.

"how could i be? it's not exactly easy to be with me when i have a thousand year old curse rattling around in my body, but you stay anyway," he expresses, making your heart soften. "i just want you to be safe, so i'll take whatever relationship the two of have now over him being a threat to you."

as your hands reach up to cradle his face and your eyes sparkle with adoration, you briefly wonder how you ever found such a sweet man. he places a quick kiss to your lips, the smile on his face easy going as ever. "sooooo, i'm thinking takoyaki or maybe udon—"

"we can get whatever you want," you glance at the spatters of blood across his chest left there from the mission, no doubt from sukuna's careless slaughter. "as long as you go wash up first."

"right!" he agrees quickly, bounding off to the bathroom.

you stand alone in the middle of your living room, left with the ghost of both yuuji and sukuna's lips against yours and a sense of bewildered excitement.

back in his prison, however, sukuna is furious with himself. he should have let you die that day he kept you from being run over. better yet, he should have killed you with his own hands before the brat won back control of his body.

he is a terrible being that delights in carnage, a fact that's well known even centuries later. so why, when he could have done anything in the world, did he go to you? you even asked that same question before you—

he rejects the memory of you pressing your lips to his disdainfully.

your foolishness and your naivete are revolting. your softness and your pliancy are nauseating.

he shouldn't have been anywhere near you, if not to rip your obnoxious heart from your chest like he'd always planned. it was a situation he'd dreamt about and now it's slipped through his fingers, even though those same fingers had graced your fragile little neck.

you were nothing more than a clueless mouse in the jaws of a snake, and though the pains of hunger have been tearing at its stomach for years now, the serpent let itself starve.

sukuna retreats to his domain, fingers prodding at his temples irritably. he allows himself to wallow for a few hours, shutting out both you and the brat.

then, steeling his resolve, he begins to watch and wait like the predator he knows himself to be.

lulled into a false sense of security regarding your safety, it's clear that yuuji has let his guard down. just barely so, but enough that sukuna can see a few weaknesses in his chains. ironic seeing that, now more than ever, the king of curses wants you dead.

it goes without saying that he promptly ceases his nightly interactions with you. it's beneath him, wasting his time with a human. he knows that now.

but while he may not speak to you, he cannot refrain from stealing glances as the days stretch on. you're usually reading, completely oblivious to his watchful eye. he convinces himself it's simply to keep tabs on you, as he's deemed you his foremost enemy.

he's not sure how much time has passed when you begin calling out for him in hushed whispers after yuuji falls asleep, the hurt and confusion in your voice plain to him. it's irksome, and evidently, you're incapable of taking a hint.

his silence becomes more painful with each turn of the moon. you're a bit mortified to find that you genuinely miss him, so you just want answers. did he finally realize that you're nothing special, not worth bothering with?

eventually, growing restless, you all but beg him. "sukuna, please. talk to me. what happened? what'd i do wrong?" his chest tightens with what he believes is vexation. "you can't just make me like you and then disappear. you can't kiss me like that and then—"

"you insolent, maddening little creature!" his eye flies open just in time to see you gasp, your body jerking away from him. "shut up already! can't you see i want nothing to do with you? don't you tire of being pathetic?"

you don't dignify him with a response, swallowing thickly and turning away from him.

finally, he thinks, some fucking quiet. though if he's gotten what he wanted, why does his chest still ache?

he stares at the back of your form until the sun rises.

sukuna is no simpleton. he can be patient when he is sure of a reward, but he's thrilled that the perfect opportunity arises just two days after your encounter.

yuuji is exhausted. gojo kept him out all last night, despite the grueling mission he had today, and when he all but stumbles through your apartment door, the moon is already high in the sky.

you never mention the change in your relationship with sukuna to yuuji. even though he was so understanding, you still feel a touch awkward discussing it further. and maybe in the back of your mind, you're holding out hope that it might go back to the way it was.

sukuna watches through yuuji's eyes when you greet him, your expression half concern and half 'i told you so'. nights out with gojo usually lead to this very situation.

he showers while you finish cooking dinner and once you both eat, he helps you clean up despite his exhaustion. after whispering his thanks and pressing a kiss to your temple, he retires to bed.

you promise you'll join him soon, but sukuna knows it probably isn't true. following his outburst, you've taken to staying in the living room until you're ready to sleep.

yuuji's out before his head hits the pillow and nearly two hours later, you're still not in bed. sukuna's eager, but waits until he's sure the brat's deep in his slumber before he tries to take over. it's relatively easy, and he pushes down yuuji's unconscious mind as far as he can before rising to his feet.

this is finally it. he stretches his limbs lazily, a dangerous smirk settling on his lips. the floor creaks with each step he takes, but he pays no mind to stealth. you're no match for him.

tonight, you'll be his first victim of many and the thought of making up for his past misjudgement has him giddy with excitement.

but the sight that greets him upon exiting the bedroom— you curled into yourself on the couch, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs— it stops him in his tracks.

he wants to move, more than anything, so what the fuck is wrong with him? is the brat taking over already?

and why is that uncomfortable sensation making it's home in the center of his chest once more?

when you notice his presence, your face shifts to him and reveals your wide, teary eyes. it's clear you're surprised by his appearance, but you quickly bury your face in your knees.

you just want him to leave you alone. you hate him for what he said, for what he did. he forced his way into your life, made you care about him, and then he just vanished. he's cruel and you feel like an idiot because you should have known that from the beginning. or maybe you did and he just made you forget.

"go away. i.. i don't want to see you."

he's disbelieving, for a brief moment, that here you are giving him orders while he stands in the doorway with the intention of taking your life.

he moves toward you, invading your space in a way that is meant to be intimidating, but when you look up at him, every emotion ranging from sadness to rejection to indignation is etched into your features. though the terror he hoped to inspire is noticeably absent.

"i said go away!" you swiftly stand up, your hands meeting squarely with his chest as you push him with every ounce of power you have.

you may as well have shoved a brick wall, as he doesn't move even a fraction of an inch. he seizes one of your wrists anyway.

"what is it you think you're doing, exactly?" he spits.

"let go of me!" you beat against his chest with the hand he left free until his fingers wrap around that wrist too.

"enough."

he's certain there isn't a being that has attacked him (if he can even call that an attack) and lived to speak of it, not once in an entire millennia.

so just end the insolent brat and be done with it, he urges himself.

but he can't and he doesn't understand why, so he just stares down at you.

"what the fuck do you want?" you mean for it to come out forcefully and full of spite, but your voice cracks before you can finish.

an excellent question, indeed. what does he want?

he doesn't answer you and it's so goddamn frustrating that you begin to cry again, rambling to fill the discomforting silence. "you've already told me i'm pitiful and annoying. it's clear you think my company is insufferable, that i'm undesirable—"

that ache in his chest is unbearable now. it claws at his ribcage and shreds the flesh of his heart. it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and rings shrilly in his ears. he can't even hear you anymore, but he can still see the tears sliding down your cheeks and the way you gasp between words.

the truth of the matter crashes down on him and the devastating weight of it is so crushing it squeezes the air from his lungs.

that feeling in his chest isn't annoyance or repugnance. its anguish— the kind that rattles his bones and leaves him sick with regret.

it's because you're in pain, and worse yet, he is the cause of it.

sukuna pushes you back against the wall before you can comprehend what's happening. his hands find either side of your face and you're alarmed to find that he looks... frightened.

"what are you doing to me?" he pleads for an explanation, because he sure as hell doesn't have one.

how can one little human hold such power over him? it's unnatural. it defies all logic and reason.

you stare at him, open mouthed. his face is so close that his breath fans across your skin and it makes you feel dizzy.

"what are you talking about?" you finally ask.

"you should be dead right now," he frets, despair seeping into every word. "it should be easy."

it dawns on you that you should probably feel afraid, but you just don't. his touch is firm, but careful. and there's no malice to be found behind his eyes. "you're not making any sense."

he thinks back on the time you've spent together, trying to figure out how the hell he ended up here— him at your mercy, rather than you at his. he remembers the first time he made you laugh and considers that it may have been the beginning of his unraveling. for the following two weeks, you both discussed homer at length as you made your way through his poetry.

"there can be no covenants between men and lions. wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other through and through." you blink at him, recognizing at once that he's quoting the illiad. his voice is low and unsteady in a way that suggests desperation. it makes you shiver. "therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall."

your eyes narrow as you begin to understand his his internal struggle, though you're unsure if he's attempting to reason with you or with himself.

"you quote achilles, and rightfully so i suppose, given your common qualities— exasperating pride and a penchant for meaningless violence." he looks relieved, like your seeming agreement eases his mind. it's short lived. "but you forget his passion."

his gaze shifts away from you, his hands withdrawing from your face.

"his passion?" he repeats as if it's the most incredulous thing he's ever heard.

"by the end of the story, is he not acquainted with regret, sympathy, and respect? he doesn't remain blind to the error of his ways forever."

"only a foolish human could make such fanciful deductions," he chides through gritted teeth, still refusing to meet your eye.

you actually laugh at him. "perhaps you shouldn't call upon achilles to make your point after all. at least he grows out of his utterly childish view of the world."

"how dare you?" he demands, his features growing wild as one hand finds your throat (his touch not nearly harsh enough to cause you any discomfort), the other colliding with the wall beside your head. his display doesn't fool you though. "you witless, wretched brat! you're nothing more than a blip in a universe you cannot even begin to understand. you sicken me."

you throw achilles' words in his face just as easily as he did to you. "hateful to me as the gates of hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another."

his gaze hardens, and for a split second, you think you may have been mistaken in your fearlessness, but then his fingers thread themselves through your hair and he pulls your lips to his.

it's rough and commanding, and he tells himself it's only to get you to shut up. to wipe that expression of smug pity from your face.

it's not because, despite the fact you know how awful he is, you're convinced there's something salvageable in him too. nor is it because you tyrannize his every passing thought. and it's certainly not because the feeling of you pressed against him brings him more satisfaction than ripping the hearts from the chests of a hundred men.

ultimately, his denial is overshadowed by his desire. your touch is nothing short of needy as you tug at his shirt, an attempt to bring him even closer, and god does he hope that means you feel just as desperate as he does. he deserves at least a little consolation.

as his hands roam every valley and curve of your body, he deems it unfair that a being whose very existence spells hell on earth should be so taken with such a devastatingly divine creature.

"i've wanted you so terribly," he mumbles against your mouth before he can stop himself.

"then fuck you for making us both wait," you breath out.

his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips in response and his lips shift to your neck. "watch that pretty little mouth of yours, brat."

he nips at the spot just below your ear hard enough that it makes you gasp, doubtless a punishment for your impudence. you recover quickly though, wasting no time with your flippant reply. "or what? you'll go back to plotting my murder?"

he pulls away from you abruptly, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "you truly have zero sense of self preservation, don't you?"

"guess so," you shrug, smiling at him bashfully. "can we watch a movie? i'll even let you pick."

you ask as if it's the most normal request in the world. as if he isn't a thousand year old curse that would be off turning the city to ash were he not here with you instead.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all. "fine."

[skyracha]

SKZ Headcanons

How They’d Defend You As Their Staff

POV: Self explanatory, if you were apart of their staff and someone was getting in your face, how would the guys defend you

Content: Obviously yelling, some light cursing, confrontational behavior, fighting

Tags: @cowboylikemalika @encoredesires @my-neurodivergent-world @itvenorica124 @0sunshinecryptid0 @lov3rachan @synesthesia-fics @sunnybunnybabygirl

My Library HERE :)

Bangchan:

You cannot convince me this man wouldn’t be putting you behind him while he dishes out the most vile words to whoever was yelling at you. He would be your #1 defender ALWAYS. He appreciates everything you do, so when someone is suddenly in your face complaining about how lazy you are, he’s right there.

“You better step the fuck back right now. Calling (yn) lazy is rich coming from you. They bust their ass every single day with little to no thanks for us and all I ever hear is you all putting her down negatively. So back up and go do your actual job.”

Lee Know:

He would be SCARY. While other members are explosive when defending you, Lee Know is scarily collected. He stands behind you, hands in his pockets and just tilts his head at whoever’s yelling at you. He doesn’t yell, or even start an argument. He just throws out a few calm questions and whoever was originally insulting you is scrambling to find something to do.

“Yeah? You wanna say that one more time? I don’t think I heard you properly the first time.”

Changbin:

He’d be the definition of a bomb going off. He’s in their face yelling and his arms are flailing as he puts them in their place. He’s not mean about it, but speaks with authority. He doesn’t play around with his staff, so when someone comes for you, he’s not playing nice.

“You do understand who this is right? MY staff. So don’t come in here talking to them like you’re the boss when in actuality I’m their boss. So how about you try airing your grievances with me instead? How about we try confronting me, not so easy huh? You get confronted by the idol and suddenly we’re quiet, funny.”

Hyunjin:

I don’t see him saying anything in the moment, but instead after the fact. He witnessed the whole thing, but I don’t see him as the confrontational type? I see him pulling the person who was yelling at you aside later and just explaining to them that he’ll be reporting the behavior and that if they want to keep their position, that they better have a good explanation for why they insulted you.

“Yeah, I saw it all. I heard every word. They’re one of the best staff members we have on our team and anyone that disrespects them disrespects me. You know what happens to staff who disrespect me or any of the other members of Stray Kids right? They lose their job, so you better start talking because (yn) is the best thing that’s happened to this group in a long time.”

Han:

I don’t see him as confrontational either, so instead I feel like he’d see the situation unfolding and just go up and grab you and pull the ‘i’ve been looking for you’ thing. While walking away, he definitely turns around and gives the other person the NASTIEST look and plans to report the behavior later on. Han defends you by reassuring you personally with words of affirmation about how good of a job you do.

“I’m so sorry about them, you’re amazing and you know we all appreciate how hard you work. You’re so passionate about your job and anyone who can’t see that is blind. I think that person was just jealous of how high up you are. I’ll report them later and see if we can’t get them out of here.”

Felix:

I see him calmly telling the person off. He’d bring out his lower voice for sure, one hand on you, the other hand held out towards the other person. He’d definitely seem insulted himself, and use that as intimidation towards the person who was insulting you.

“I did not just hear that correct, did I? No, I couldn’t have because if I did, then that means you just insulted my staff which I take personally. And we don’t want me to take it personally, do we? I know the company doesn’t take nicely to idols feeling insulted by staff, so.”

Seungmin:

Scary dog privileges. Done deal. He’s threatening when he saunters up next to you and stares down the person who was fighting with you. He’s kind of like Lee Know where he says very little, but instead of calm and collected, you can FEEL the rage melting off of him. You can SEE the way he’s clenching his jaw and fists, and the way the veins in his arms are popping with how tense he is.

“You can either continue to my face or you can walk away. Either way you are not without consequences.”

I.N:

Our lil baby boy does not wanna get caught in the crossfire of what this person is dealing out to you. He wants to help you, so I feel like instead of trying to handle it himself, he goes to get help. (aka higher staff) He’d quickly scoop you up and get you out of there when higher staff comes onto the scene and he’s reassuring you that it’s going to be handled and you are alright.

“Hey, there’s someone handling them. You know nothing they said was true. I’m sorry I couldn’t act faster, I wanted to get proper help. Everything’s going to be okay, you’ll never have to see them again.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Reader who has never gotten drunk and doesn't want to touch alcohol due to personal issues x Nanami who drinks her shot for her to avoid awkward situations

Honestly this hits 100% home. I don't drink alcohol at all and always get insulted by some dumb people I don't even know that well when I'm out here in my hometown. I'd love to have a supportive Nanami by my side :(

In Quiet Understanding

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: At a lively work party, you're cornered by the pressure to drink - a personal boundary you’re not ready to cross. Just as the moment becomes unbearable, Nanami steps in, quietly taking the shot for you. In his calm, understated way, he shows that sometimes the loudest support is silent.

Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff, my man is the greenest flag on earth, you just gotta love him

The bar buzzes around you, a steady hum of conversation blending with the clink of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. Warm lights cast a dim glow over the crowd around, softening the edges of faces that surround you. It’s supposed to be a casual night out, just a few jujutsu sorcerers celebrating the end of a particularly long week, but the drink sitting in front of you feels like a barrier more than anything else.

A shot glass, small but potent, sits in front of you. The liquid inside glistens, clear and harmless to anyone else.

But to you, it feels like something heavier. You’ve never been one to drink, and not because you’ve never had the opportunity. It’s more complicated than that. There are reasons, personal ones that don’t make for easy explanations in a casual setting like this. But now, with everyone gathered around, laughing and sipping their drinks, it’s hard not to feel the unspoken pressure to participate.

You glance down at the shot again, the tension in your chest tightening. You’ve managed to avoid alcohol for this long, always coming up with an excuse or dodging the question when it came up. But tonight feels different. The way people keep sliding glances at your untouched glass makes you think someone will say something if you don’t take it soon. It’s just a matter of time before someone asks.

The last thing you want is to be the center of attention for that.

You steal a glimpse at the others sitting around the table, hoping to avoid any prying eyes. Most of them are too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice your discomfort, their attention focused on the drinks in their hands and the jokes being thrown around. A few have already gone through two or three rounds, faces flushed from the alcohol and laughter. Especially Gojo, who you thought isn’t even able to get drunk, starts to talk with a numb tongue. You shift in your seat, trying to blend into the background, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the glass but not lifting it.

That’s when you feel it: the presence beside you.

Nanami Kento sits quietly, just as he always does in these types of settings. He doesn’t participate in the loud chatter or the easy-going atmosphere as much as the others. His energy is different - steadier, more reserved. You’ve always appreciated that about him, the way he manages to be a grounding presence without saying much. It’s comforting, even if you’ve never told him so.

Nanami is not the type to drink heavily, either. He has a glass of whiskey in front of him, sipped slowly over the course of the evening. It’s as if he’s participating just enough to be polite, but not so much that he’s truly in the middle of the scene. You imagine that he already noticed your untouched shot glass, though he hasn’t said anything. He’s too observant not to notice details like that, right?

You’re trying to work up the courage to find a way out of this situation when, without warning, Nanami moves.

His hand reaches across the small table, fingers curling around the shot glass in front of you. You blink, taken off guard by the sudden action. He lifts the glass effortlessly, not making a show of it. But before you can say anything, he downs the shot in one smooth motion, setting the empty glass back on the table with a quiet clink.

You stare at him bamboozled, a mix of surprise and confusion flashing across your face.

“Nanami-san…”, you start when he cuts you off with a calm, measured response.

“You didn’t seem like you wanted it. I thought I’d save you the trouble” he explains briefly.

His words hang in the air between you, simple and humble. There’s something about the way he says it, so quiet, without judgment, that catches you off guard. He doesn’t ask why you weren’t drinking, doesn’t press for an explanation or make a joke out of it like others might have.

He just… helps. Without making it a big deal.

You feel the tension in your chest ease, the knot of anxiety loosening as you process what just happened. The relief is almost overwhelming, the weight of the situation lifting in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t even realize how badly you needed someone to step in, to save you from the awkwardness of having to explain yourself, until Nanami did exactly that.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice quieter than you intended.

Nanami simply nods, his expression unchanged.

“It’s nothing.”

But it isn’t nothing to you.

For a few moments, the noise of the bar fades into the background, the laughter and voices becoming a distant hum as you focus on the man beside you. Nanami returns to his usual posture, resting back in his seat with his glass of whiskey, his eyes drifting over the crowd. He doesn’t expect anything from you, doesn’t expect a conversation or even a thank you beyond what you’ve already offered. He’s just… there, in the quiet way he always is.

“And it’s Kento for you”, he adds after a long pause.

The group around you starts to settle down a bit as the night wears on. The initial excitement has given way to a more comfortable rhythm, the laughter still present but less harsh. People are leaning back in their chairs, enjoying their drinks at a slower pace now. The pressure to keep up, to drink shot after shot like the others has lessened, and you’re grateful for that.

Nanami saved you from having to participate in that part of the night, and now, with the glass out of your hands, you feel more at ease. You glance at him again, catching the way his expression remains calm, unreadable to most.

But you know better. You’ve worked with him long enough to notice the subtle shifts in his behaviour, the tiny flickers of thought behind his eyes that most people miss.

He’s always been like that: quiet, composed, but aware. Aware of the little things, the unspoken discomforts that others might ignore. It’s something you’ve come to respect deeply about him, even if you’ve never found the right moment to say it aloud.

As the night progresses, more rounds are ordered, but no one pressures you anymore. The group is too absorbed in their own drinks and stories, too comfortable in the haze of alcohol to notice that you haven’t touched another shot. You blend in easily now, sipping on a glass of water you quietly asked for earlier, content to just be part of the atmosphere without feeling the need to explain yourself.

“Are you feeling better now?”

The raising of his voice catches you off guard and leads to you almost choking on a sip of water. To be honest, you always admired that man from afar. So far away that you always made sure he doesn’t catch the way your eyes follow each and every move of his well-toned body. So far away that you never dare to say a single word to him, not even when he’s sitting right next to you. So far away that he isn’t able to tell that you have a huge crush on him.

“I do…Thanks to you.”

Instead of answering, he simply nods while taking another sip of his whiskey.

“You’re welcome.”

Eventually, the group begins to wind down. A few people are noticeably tipsy, their voices louder, their movements less coordinated. Others have begun to check their phones, signaling that the night is nearing its end. You find yourself feeling a sense of relief, knowing that you’ve made it through without any awkward confrontations or unwanted attention.

As the table starts to clear out, Nanami stands up, finishing the last sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down. He glances at you briefly, catching your eye.

“Ready to go?”

With him? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, palms already starting to get sweaty. Does he…really want to take you home?

When he gives you another look you finally nod, grateful for the out. The two of you say your goodbyes to the group, exchanging a little chit-chats as you leave the bar. The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, a welcome contrast to the stuffy warmth inside and your burning-hot cheeks. You take a deep breath, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders now that the evening is over even with your long-time crush by your side.

Nanami walks beside you in silence for a few moments, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. He’s not the type to fill the air with unnecessary conversation, and you appreciate that. The quiet between you is comfortable, familiar.

“About earlier…” you begin, breaking the silence.

“I just wanted to say thank you again. I didn’t-”

“You don’t need to explain,” Nanami interrupts, his voice gentle but firm.

“I didn’t do it expecting anything in return.”

You stop walking for a moment, turning to face him fully. There’s something in his expression, something softer than usual.

“I know. But it means a lot. I just… I don’t really drink. And I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Nanami meets your gaze, his eyes steady and understanding.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. Not about that, or anything else.”

The weight of his words sinks in, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. He’s not just talking about the shot glass anymore, and you know it. There’s a depth to his understanding that goes beyond the surface, beyond the simple act of taking a drink for you. It’s the kind of quiet, unspoken support that feels rare.

You offer him a small, genuine smile.

“Thank you, Nanami. Really.”

“It’s Kento, (y/n).”

The second his tongue pronounces your name so delicately, you can feel your heart almost burst in sheer excitement.

“Right…Kento.”

He nods once, and without another word, the two of you continue walking, the city lights casting long shadows as you move forward together.

In the end, it wasn’t about the drink. It was about the quiet understanding between the two of you, the kind of connection that doesn’t need words to be felt.

And as the night fades into memory, you can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the person beside you - steady, reliable Nanami, who always seems to know exactly what you need, even without asking.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr

[manikas-whims]

request for LADS

what if u have to fake date the guys for some reason but its starts becomin difficult for ur heart cuz you start catching feelings

thank you 🙏

thanks for this request! ♡ i went a lil overboard with this LOL. WARNING ⚠️ long post..

Fake Dating the Love and Deepspace men but you catch feelings pt. 1

ZAYNE

❄️ Tara keeps trying to set you up with one of her colleagues, and no matter how subtle she acts about it, you're getting tired of it. Thus, you come to this decision! You request Zayne to play your fake boyfriend for a while.

❄️ The matter of his own feelings aside, Zayne just thinks that fake dating someone to avoid potential dates is incredibly crazy. “You can simply ask your friend to stop.”

❄️ His suggestion is baffling. You feel like an idiot for ignoring the obvious solution. But only a moment later realize that even asking her to stop won't likely deter Tara. At least not until she sees you with a person better than any of her chosen candidates.

❄️ So you decide to let go of the little self-respect you have and beg Zayne to do this for you. He is amused by this ridiculous proposition but agrees nonetheless since he can never really say no to you.

❄️ It's an amazing experience cause Zayne is the perfect boyfriend anyone could ever ask for— handsome, smart, caring, strict when needed, protective and very accommodating.

❄️ The first time Tara meets him, her eyes literally glow with admiration. And she pats your back like a proud aunt, winking suggestively as she does so.

❄️ However, Zayne has always been great at adapting to the situations at hand and soon your arrangement starts becoming a bit of a problem for your delicate heart.

❄️ It is one thing to show him off to your colleagues. But Zayne has started doing stuff like dropping you home everyday after work, his only explanation being “that's what he would do if he was your REAL boyfriend”.

❄️ And this isn't all. He's taking breaks in the afternoon to have lunch with you everyday and make sure you don't miss any meals. He slips your hand inside his coat pocket on particularly colder days. He even focuses on the little things like wiping a coffee stain from your bottom lip or gently pushing the stray strands of hair behind your ear. All this while, his explanation is: it's what he would do if he were your real boyfriend. And you aren't sure your heart will manage long if this goes on.

❄️ The real issue arises when one of your colleagues point out how they've never seen you kiss. And this makes Tara perk-up too.

❄️ In your defense, you spout some nonsense about how Zayne is kinda shy by nature and doesn't believe in PDA much. “When we're alone, he's very passionate.”

❄️ This leads to Tara and a bunch of colleagues secretly tailing you when Zayne comes to pick you up one evening. For they also wanna see this passionate side of him.

❄️ “Um..Zayne, can we kiss?” You whisper, your eyes averted, and fingers fiddling in nervousness. Its not that you are worried about the "kissing" part. Thats easy. You are actually worried about kissing Zayne.

❄️ As for Zayne, he is confused and shocked at first. Even blushes a little. But thanks to his perceptive nature, he quickly spots your colleagues and understands.

❄️ So as you clumsily teeter closer to him and raise yourself on your feet to reach his height, he chuckles at your efforts as well as the pained expression on your face.

❄️ “Relax.” He commands and magically, his words do calm your nerves a little.

❄️ He smiles then, his big arms wrapping smoothly around your waist as he lowers his head and lets his lips gently linger against yours, igniting a desire within you.

❄️ When he finally pulls back moments later, you nearly loose your footing.

❄️ This is it. The last shred of your sanity blown away. It may have only been a few moments but the kiss leaves an impact on you. Your heart can't take it anymore. Because you enjoyed the kiss more than you should have. And its made you realise that you may have actual feelings for Zayne.

XAVIER

⭐ There's this creepy resident at your apartment complex who's been trying to make moves on you but he's just been so nice and subtle about it that you have no idea how to turn him down. Thus, instead of that, you ask Xavier to play your fake boyfriend for a while.

⭐ “This doesn't seem like a good idea.” He says, hesitantly scratching his cheek.

⭐ Xavier also believes beating the shit out of the guy is a better option, and a permanent solution. But again, you can't do that because the guy hasn't actually done anything threatening or concerning. Thus, any sort of unwarranted violence against such a guy will only result in more problems for Xavier and You.

⭐ So Xavier sighs, and nods with a smile. “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

⭐ “Just do things only a boyfriend would do whenever that guy is around.” You tell him and he nods.

⭐ And so it starts with you dragging Xavier out for morning laps and evening walks around the complex, and you always make sure to hold onto Xavier's arm whenever you spot the strange guy.

⭐ But as the days go by, you sense as if Xavier may be a little too good at his new job.

⭐ One evening as you are working out at the gym on the top floor of the apartment complex, the guy walks in and approaches you. To your annoyance, he begins his usual small talk. But he's barely strung two words together when you feel the warmth of a hand gliding along your waist.

⭐ You look up to find Xavier, his clothes sweaty from workout. He tucks his chin on top off your head, his arm around your waist tightening ever so slightly. “Do you know this guy?”

⭐ It takes a moment for you to realise you're gawking! At the same guy you had asked to pretend to be your boyfriend. And it's not just his fingers stroking circles on your belly but also the way his voice sounds more intimate!??

⭐ Quickly, you compose yourself and stammer a response. “N-Not really. He's a resident just like us.”

⭐ And with that said, you're being steered out of the gym, Xavier's arm never leaving your waist.

⭐ Ever since you've known him, he rarely breaches your personal space without permission. A gentleman through and through. It's you who's been messing with his hair, squishing his cheeks and poking his chest to tease him all this time.

⭐ But ever since you asked him to play boyfriend, he's the one initiating skinship at the most unexpected moments. It's as if this fake dating arrangement has given him a free pass to do everything he usually holds back from.

⭐ Now he holds your hand whenever you're walking together, idly plays with your hair strands when hanging out at your place, and ALWAYS makes sure his arms are around your waist or face nuzzling your neck in the presence of that strange guy.

⭐ You may have been the one who requested him to do this but you aren't so sure about this whole thing anymore.

⭐ A few weeks have passed but the guy is persistent. Now he's always trying to find you when he's sure Xavier won't be around.

⭐ “It's not working. We need to do something more convincing.” You say in a deflated tone. You and Xavier are standing in the hallway of your floor, having just returned from a mission.

⭐ And that creep is lurking at the end of the floor by the elevator, waiting for Xavier to leave so he can ask you out yet again.

⭐ Xavier tucks a hand under his chin, his nose scrunching in thought. “Something more you say..”

⭐ Then in the very next moment, he pushes you against your own apartment door, a hand coming to rest upon it to keep you in place; his other hand gently cradles your face, arching it slightly before he presses his lips against your own.

⭐ Only a moment later he pulls away, then kisses you again. This time with more fervor than needed to fake it. And when he breaks the kiss again, his lips gravitate towards your neck.

⭐ “Xa..Xavier..?” You're stunned. You're not even sure how you are meant to react.

⭐ Xavier pushes away from you slightly and turns his head, his gaze directed right at the strange man. “She’s mine.” He asserts.

⭐ The man is as shocked as you are and immediately runs away.

⭐ Xavier looks back at you and flashes his usual soft smile. “This should convince him enough.”

⭐ Seriously!? Who cares about that guy anymore? Your heart is the most convinced that you may possibly be falling for Xavier.

RAFAYEL

🌊 “Miss Bodyguard, would you like to date me?” Rafayel asks one day out of the blue, and you are left feeling equal parts flustered and confused because WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?

🌊 He enjoys watching you trying to act nonchalant when your fidgety movements and flushed cheeks clearly tell him otherwise.

🌊 Finally he explains how he has accumulated quite the fanbase, thanks to not just his art but his gorgeous looks. And now these same loving fans are becoming slightly toxic with how they stalk him around, making it impossible for him to even go out in peace. Aa such, he wants to promote you from the position of his bodyguard to fake girlfriend.

🌊 You don't like the sound of it. You can already smell trouble from afar but you know he'll keep pestering until you relent. So you agree to it in the end.

🌊 Only later you realise what you've actually gotten yourself into.

🌊 Rafayel is already kinda clingy by nature but now that you've agreed to his dating charade, he's fully taking advantage of it.

🌊 Everytime he drags you out to a public spot, he makes sure that the two of you hold hands. And rather than going to places that may inspire him for his paintings, he drags you to expensive fashion brands stores.

🌊 Even as you refuse to let him buy any of it, he makes you try on the outfits for hours, making you turn this way and that, asking you to pose in specific ways as he snaps numerous photographs (which he'll definitely use as reference for his portraits of you). And just when you think it's over with all the fancy clothes, he makes you try on footwear next.

🌊 He's also buying you all these gifts you never asked for. He's basically spoiling you with things you can't otherwise afford.

🌊 He's also posting a lot of cringe yet cutesy couple photos with you on his social media accounts.

🌊 And you may not admit it but you are beginning to enjoy being spoilt like this.

🌊 Weeks pass without you even realising. This arrangement is becoming more and more dangerous for your heart. Because lets be honest Rafayel may be enjoying playing around with you like this but the same can't be said for you. You know that if this goes on any longer, your heart is bound to make space for him.

🌊 “How much longer do we need to keep this up?” You ask one day.

🌊 He merely winks at you. “Just a little longer.”

🌊 You try your best to keep your emotions in check. You just need to endure him and his charm for a little longer. Heck! You kill wanderers for a living so the matters of heart shouldn't be anymore difficult than that. Right? Right?

🌊 Oh how foolish you are.

🌊 It happens during a private gala Rafayel is invited to and of course as his “girlfriend”, you're supposed to go with him.

🌊 That, and the other reason being this crazy musician who will be there. Apparently she's been hitting on Rafayel for a while now, and your appearance may finally make her retreat.

🌊 So there, amidst the crowd of snobbish strangers, Rafayel asks you for a dance. And in the dim glow of the hall, paired with a slow, romantic tune, he feels closer than he is. And it happens..your resolve falters.

🌊 He wiggles a brow towards the corner of the room, and surely enough, you spot the aforementioned crazy musician. Indeed, she doesn't seem very happy with the way Rafayel has his arms around you.

🌊 And to deliberately spur her further, he lowers his head. His breath is ticklish along your skin as he whispers in your ear. “You’ve moved along quite well to my tune. You're a good dancer.”

🌊 For some reason, you don't like those words. Rafayel complimenting you so freely cannot be a good sign.

🌊 “Just endure a little longer, Miss Bodyguard. Tonight will be the last run of this charade.”

🌊 Then he tucks a lose strand of hair behind your ear and leans his face in, his lips gently brushing along yours before pressing harder.

🌊 The kiss is slow and lingering, just like the song being played. But it seems that the moment you begin to give in and truly relish it, the moment ends. He pulls away and smiles.

🌊 Yet you can't muster enough strength to smile back for its happened. Your resolve is broken. Your heart has already reserved the best spot for him. And you aren't ready to let go of this charade any time soon..

here's [PART 2]

i have 4-5 more LADS requests to finish. i'm working on them and will post them soon ✌️😊

THANKS FOR READING ♡

SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.

» MASTERLIST «

[del0nix-regia]

Since Patch 8 is on the way and there are no hints on Wyll getting any updates by then, I humbly made a semi-comprehensive list of Things They Could Add To Him That Wouldn't Break The Game™

I wish they'd redo the final act of his character quest and I do have a lot of ideas on how they could make something that is actually about him while keeping Ansur's quest its own separate thing, but that is pretty much impossible to happen, and I see a lot of people say there's nothing that can be done since Larian will step back from bg3 after this next patch and it's too little time to add a whole new major quest. So, here's little things that would still add a lot to his story:

Act 1

Fans! He talks so much about being the Blade of Frontiers, and by playable characters' reaction, his name has reached far and wide. You're telling me none of these refugees are giggling because he's staying at the Grove to help them? Not even the little kids that he's literally training? That's like Lady Gaga showing up to give you singing lessons!?

A more extreme transformation if you spare Karlach. It just feels quite silly to me that he's so afraid of the refugees being scared of him when all that differentiates him from your average tiefling is that he has ridges on his face as opposed to just his body (and still, Zevlor has them, so what's the problem exactly?). I know there's a limit to what they could do to his model in a reasonable time frame, but like?? Sharp teeth? Claws? Pointy ears? Tail? Those are things you can easily borrow from a tiefling's model (If life was fair and god loved us all, Wyll would have digitigrade legs and wings, but oh well).

Something of the Duke for you to find in the burning building. Maybe a locket, something sentimental that concretizes in his mind that his father truly was kidnapped, and it can add an extra bit of dialogue if it's an item he remembers from his youth.

An actual, proper romance scene. What do you mean I can only give him a kiss and just let him drink by himself at the corner of the party? Let me sit with him by the beach!!!!

More party banter! I don't know why they got rid of his flirty lines with Lae'zel — I get that it's vestiges of his old rake-ish persona from the beta version, but I think it actually fits quite well with his current characterization. He compliments her eyes so poetically!! That's so Wyll! Also a bit of an early strife with Gale would be funny, considering the whole thing with wizards thinking warlocks took the ‘easy way’ to magic. The sussur blossom dialogue could spark another conversation between them where Gale understands Wyll a bit more (since he never actually wanted infernal powers in the first place), and it'd adds a bit of foreshadowing towards his eventual explanation for his pact in Act 2.

Act 2

Actual autonomy when standing up to Mizora. Why does the PC get to be the one confronting her? Little bits of dialogue before when you first find out about his pact in Act 1 could encourage him to stand up to her when she tells him to rescue a devil in Moonrise Towers. Let Wyll tell her to release him once the mission is complete.

Jaheira and Wyll linkup. Folk heroes that have to endure hearing the most absurd tales being made up about them? Gimme. Immediately.

Small interactions with NPCs in Moonrise Towers, like chiming in if you have him in your party while talking to the prison warden, immediately asking about the Duke's whereabouts.

An actual cutscene when he reveals the context around his pact. We saw Shadowheart and her damn wolf-dad a hundred times over, and it added a lot to her. Simply describing such a key situation in his life with such detail but no visuals is very counterintuitive, and it diminishes the direness of his situation and why he accepted the terms of the pact so willingly.

Some bits of dialogue about his early months of exile after the lore drop. Even with the power of a devil at his side, I doubt a 17-year-old took suddenly living in the wilderness very well at first.

A dialogue regarding Isobel and Ketheric, after you find out she's his daughter. Wyll too had a mother that died too early and a strained relationship with his father, the difference is that Isobel had memories of her mom and no justification for her dad's actions. I think he'd have interesting insight on what she's going through now that she's the last of her family line.

Act 3

Little interactions with key locations, key NPCs, just more for him to react to in general! That's his city, that he hasn't seen in seven years. Let him talk to people, recognize spots he'd go to, retell tales of his childhood misadventures!!

I get that he's a devil now, but having all Flaming Fists he meets immediately just disregarding him is so silly. He has the same damn face, why is no one shocked that Duke Ravengard's son is back after years with a pair of horns on his head and a bunch of weird people by his side?

More about his mother, especially if you save the Duke. Francesca Ravengard I may not know you but I adore you and I'd like to know all about your life, please.

Again, more people recognizing him as the Blade of Frontiers. There has to be at least a single merchant wagon stationed in Rivington that remembers him saving their produce from bandits on the road or something, come on.

Special dialogue while in the House of Hope. Raphael is apparently quite influential in Avernus, I'd like to think he'd have some books and tomes regarding warlock pacts, or even something that might hint to him and Mizora having dealings.

Autonomy!!!!! Let him decide if he wants to sever the pact and risk rescuing his dad on his own or guarantee Ulder's safety and give away his soul forever. I don't say to just take away the ability to sway his opinion at all, but at least make it a persuasion check like you have to do with every. characters'. most. important. decisions.

That's enough of a rant I think. Obviously I'd love for them to actually give his story a well-thought conclusion, but that would have to be made into its own post. Still, I think little bits like these, things that they could realistically add every other patch or so, would add a lot of meat to his character. Wyll has a lot of potential!!! It's just sad that so little is ever done with it.

[sst4rdst]

synopsis : modern au scaramouche places nicotine patches on you so you would get addicted to him. pairing : yan scara x reader (no gendered pronouns used for reader) warnings : yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, scara is kinda cringe ngl, forced addiction. author's note : inspired by this ask @allfearstofallto received! (btw go check her works they're really good, just saying).

it starts as nothing. a lingering discomfort when you’re alone, a tension in your muscles that refuses to ease, a dull, unshakable exhaustion that follows you even after a full night’s sleep. it’s easy to dismiss at first, easy to blame on stress, on a poor diet, on the weather being too cold or too hot. you don’t think much of it—not when it’s just a headache here and there, not when the nausea comes in brief waves, not when your hands shake just slightly as you reach for your morning coffee.

but then it worsens. slowly, gradually, deliberately.

there are days when the discomfort turns unbearable, days when you feel like something is clawing at the inside of your ribcage, desperate to be let out. your body betrays you in ways you don’t understand—your heart pounding too hard, your breathing shallow, your fingers twitching when you try to hold a pen, a fork, a phone. it’s maddening, this constant state of unease, like you’re missing something vital, like a part of you has been carved away and you’re left grasping at empty air. you rack your brain for a reason, for some kind of explanation that makes sense, but nothing adds up. there is no pattern to it, no logical cause.

except, there is. because it always, always gets better when you’re with him.

the moment scaramouche steps into the room, the tension in your chest unwinds, your headache fades, your trembling stops as if it was never there. you don’t even have to do anything—just being in his presence is enough to soothe the worst of it, like he’s some kind of drug you didn’t realize you were taking.

you hate the thought. you hate the dependency, the way your body reacts to him like an addict finding their next fix. but there’s no denying it, not when the relief is so immediate, not when it feels so good just to exist near him, to hear his voice, to feel his gaze settling on you with that same unreadable expression.

he notices. of course, he notices. he’s always watching, always analyzing, always a step ahead of you in ways that you’ve never quite been able to grasp.

“why do you always come to me when you feel like shit?” his voice is flat, unimpressed, but there’s something underneath it, something too pleased, like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyway. he’s lounging on your couch, legs crossed, one arm draped over the back, looking like he has all the time in the world to entertain your pathetic little problem.

you swallow, rub your temples, frustrated with yourself, with him, with this whole situation. “i don’t know,” you mutter, though you do, you just don’t want to admit it. “i just—fuck, i feel better when i’m with you. like, physically.”

the corner of his lips twitches, and for a second, you think he’s going to smirk. but he doesn’t. he just watches you with that same half-lidded gaze, fingers tapping against his thigh in slow, deliberate movements. his nails are painted black today. he only does that when he’s bored.

“how pathetic,” he murmurs, and there it is—that cruel amusement, that mocking edge laced into his words like a knife hidden in silk. he tilts his head, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “you seriously need me, huh?”

you don’t answer. because what is there to say? it’s true. it’s humiliating and infuriating and it makes you feel small, but it’s the truth. you do need him. or at least, your body seems to think so.

you don’t know that this was never an accident. that the first time you felt those strange aches, those unbearable withdrawals, it wasn’t some random affliction—it was him. it was always him.

you don’t know that it started with a tiktok. some stupid, throwaway video that he barely paid attention to at first, some joke about how nicotine patches could be used to make someone dependent, how withdrawal could be weaponized. you don’t know how the idea latched onto him like a parasite, burrowing into his thoughts, refusing to let go until it became something more, something twisted, something actionable.

you don’t know that every time he touched you—every casual brush of fingers against your arm, every moment he pretended to fix your collar, every instance where he pulled you just a little closer than necessary—he was leaving something behind. a small, colorless patch, barely noticeable, perfectly hidden beneath fabric and routine. a dose just strong enough to matter. just strong enough to make you crave him.

you don’t know any of this. but you do know that you always end up back in his presence. that no matter how much you tell yourself you don’t need him, your body betrays you in the end.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Replay

Requested: @deludedprime

Word Count: 9,425

Oneshot

Part 2

Summary: You have gone through the same story of meeting everyone multiple times now. Every time, at the end, everyone ends up meeting their end. You're trying to prevent that by going through it all once again. But, old habits die hard and the characters start to notice when you know a bit too much about them. Obey Me Brothers and Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon Short writings for Luke, Thirteen, Mephisto, and Raphael

You opened your eyes and took in a deep breath. You were standing in the assembly room of RAD with seven people who you knew very well looking at you. But while you looked at them with familiarity, they stared at you with neutral expressions. All except Lord Diavolo who was standing in front of you looking at you with a smile. You wondered if he knew how much joy his smile brought to others.

“Welcome to the Devildom, Y/N,” he stated. Those were the words that have started your journey three times now. Or was it four? With everything that has happened between you and the brothers, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve been in this situation.

Diavolo continued to give his brief explanation of who he was and where you were. Then, someone else said, “I will explain everything to you.” You turned towards the eldest demon and took in his appearance. He seemed indifferent towards you and though it hurt to see him like this, it made sense.

The Lucifer you had come to know had been so kind and caring. He was an amazing right hand to Lord Diavolo and an even better older brother. You never once doubted your place in his life, so much so, that it was easy to forget how cold he once was to you - as if you were an inconvenience that he had to put up with to satisfy Diavolo.

Diavolo and Lucifer fell into an easy conversation, the strong friendship clear even then when you were supposed to be completely clueless as to what was happening and who they were.

Lucifer began to explain the exchange student program, but you tuned him out. You were scanning the room looking at the others who were there, their gaze set on you. Two of the brothers weren’t there. 

As if on cue, Lucifer stated, “You need someone to look after you and I think that someone should be my brother Mammon. He’s the Avatar of Greed and…how should I put it…? Oh well, you’ll understand soon enough.”

“Now then…we still need to introduce our new friend to your brothers, Lucifer. And it’s probably better that you do that instead of me, wouldn’t you say?” Diavolo questioned, giving Lucifer a small smile.

“Yes, as much as I dread the idea of doing so, you’re right,” Lucifer replied. “Oh, come now. Really? You should be honored to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” Asmo chimed in.

“This one here is Asmodeus. He’s the fifth eldest. He is the Avatar of Lust,” Lucifer continued, not even acknowledging Asmo’s remark. “Wh…I can’t believe you just totally ignored what I said! And not only that, you referred to me as this one. How rude!” Asmo stated.

“Hmph. At least he didn’t ignore you altogether. How do you think I feel?” Satan added, refusing to look at Lucifer. “That one there is Satan, the fourth eldest of us. At first glance, he may seem like a responsible demon with a good head on his shoulders, but looks can be deceiving,” Lucifer told you. 

“Aha, so I’m that one, am I? Nice to meet you, Y/N. I am Satan, the Avatar of Wrath,” Satan introduced, giving you a polite smile. His polite smile disguised the anger that you knew was hiding behind his eyes.

“Now, the one there with the very grumpy look on his face is Beelzebub. He’s the sixth oldest,” Lucifer proceeded, ignoring his brothers’ side comments. “Lucifer, I’m hungry,” Beel replied. The statement almost made you laugh considering the amount of times you had heard it before. It was like his catchphrase.

“That’s too bad. Now behave yourself,” Lucifer replied. Beel let out a small sigh before telling you, “I’m Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.” Beel then went on to daydream - most likely about the food he was planning on eating as soon as he was out of the meeting.

“So - there are seven of us brothers in all. I am the eldest. Mammon, the second oldest of us, will be here soon. My other brothers aren’t here at the moment, but…well, we can get to them later. All in good time,” Lucifer explained.

“During your stay in the Devildom, the seven brothers will lend you their strength. To keep you safe, you are to stay with them at the House of Lamentation,” Diavolo explained before he and Lucifer made sure to add their numbers to your D.D.D. They even had you call Mammon to show that you knew how to use it.

Right after that, Mammon entered the assembly hall. Lucifer let out a small sigh before telling you, “Well, you’ve got that done now, and it seems the idiot has arrived.” 

Mammon walked up to you and Lucifer before saying, “HEY! Just who do you think you are, human? You’ve got a lotta nerve summoning the Great Mammon! Listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once. If you value your life, then you’ll hand over all of your money now! And anything else of value you too! Otherwise, I’ll wipe that stupid, happy-go-lucky look right off your face…by eatin’ you! Startin’ at your head and working my way down, until-.”

“Mammon shut up or I’ll punch you,” Lucifer stated simply before punching his younger brother. “GAH, OWW! Hey, what’s the big idea? I thought you were actually gonna give me a chance to shut up before punching me!” Mammon replied. You stifled a laugh as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. Same old Mammon.

“Y/N, Mammon here is the Avatar of Greed. He governs and oversees all forms of it. Whenever he takes a liking to someone, they suddenly find themselves awash in money. But from what I hear, if he decides to break it off with someone, the wealth evaporates. They’re left without a Grimm to their name,” Satan explained.

“And he’s also a masochist. That part’s important,” Asmo added and you watched as the second-eldest glared at the fifth-born. You could tell that Mammon wanted to say something to him but Lucifer beat him to the punch. “Indeed. And it just so happens I have a job for my masochist of a brother,” Lucifer said. 

“Y’all stop telling lies! I ain’t asked for that punch, and I AIN’T a masochist!” Mammon defended, shooting his brothers an angry look. Lucifer paid no attention to it though as he told him, “Mammon, you are going to be in charge of seeing to this human’s needs during this whole exchange. I expect your full cooperation”

“What?! Why me?!” Mammon complained. “Aww, lucky you, Mammon! I’m so jealous…” Asmo said with a small frown. “All right, then why don’t YOU do it, Asmodeus?!” Mammon retorted.

“What? Hell no, too lazy…” Asmo replied. “I thought you were jealous of me?!” Mammon questioned. “Just give up, Mammon. There’s no getting out of this. You know you can’t refuse a direct command from Lucifer, correct?” Satan replied.

“But why does it have to be me?! What about Beel? Why can’t he do it?!” Mammon asked. “This isn’t a job we can entrust to Beel. We might as well ask him to eat this human,” Asmo replied.  “Mm, yeah, I can’t promise I wouldn’t,” Beel added.

“You’re useless, you know that?!” Mammon told his younger sibling. “...Mammon?” Lucifer stated, controlling the anger that was beginning to blossom. “...Wh-What?” Mammon asked. A dark aura surrounded Lucifer as he told him, “Surely, you’re not going to tell me that you object to this arrangement, are you?” Lucifer questioned.

Mammon completely tensed up at Lucifer’s words before saying, “Ugh…I hate you guys! Every last one of ya!” Mammon paused for a moment before continuing to say, “Fine…FINE! I’ll do it, okay?!”

Mammon then turned to you and told you, “All right, human, listen up. As much as I don’t want to look after you, I’ve got no choice. It’s a huge pain in the ass, and I’m too important for this kind of thing, but Lucifer told me to do it, so I will. But in return you better make sure you don’t cause me any trouble, got it?!”

This was the scene that marked the start of your journey in the Devildom…several times now. You hated it every time. The way that Lucifer looked at you like he could care less about you. The way Mammon treated you like you were a burden. The way that Levi refused to leave his room. The way that Satan was so angry all of the time towards everyone. The way that Asmo only wanted to charm you instead of getting to know you. The way Beel looked at you as nothing more than a snack. And the way Belphie was locked up in the attic. Not even Diavolo or Barbatos looked towards you with a hint of care.

You thought about the previous times you had been in this scenario. It had always ended the same - with you losing everyone you loved. Losing the people you had come to care so much about hurt much worse than never having them in the first place.

So you managed to find a way to the beginning. To start all over and pray that you could find a way to stop the tragic end that occurred. You would do whatever it took to save everyone. 

It didn’t matter if they didn’t know who you were. It didn’t matter if you had to put all of your energy into making them love you again. If it meant they would be okay in the end, you would do it over and over again until you got it right.

But, you had already experienced all of this. You already knew most things about the people you were closest to. Was it even possible to try and do this without them realizing something was amiss?

Lucifer had always been hard to get to know at first. He didn’t know you and he wasn’t sure he wanted to get to know you. Diavolo wanted to strengthen the bonds between the three realms. That was the only reason you were in the Devildom.

And in one year, you would be heading back to the human world. None of them would see you again. So what was the point in talking to you and forming any kind of connection? 

In fact, he was even wary about his brothers’ growing friendships with you. Especially when they began making pacts with you. How had you managed to find a way into their hearts so quickly?

The more time he spent around you though, he began to understand the charm that you had. He came to know your kind-hearted nature and dared to let himself begin to care. 

So much so that when you decided to join him in his study while he was doing paperwork, he allowed you to stay. He stayed silent as you picked up a stack of papers and began to look through them.

When you grabbed a pen, he opened his mouth to say something. Those were important documents and they had to be filed correctly. But he stopped himself when he saw you filling out every box correctly - as if you had done it a hundred times.

Lucifer’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you finished that document and moved on to the next, effortlessly filling that one out as well. One by one you went through the stack while Lucifer watched you incredulously.

He was sure he had never allowed you into his study before. He had never shown you the paperwork, let alone explained which one was what. So, how were you doing this? Some of the documents were even written in different languages!

You sat down your pen as you finished the stack and gave Lucifer a small smile. “Hopefully that helped you some,” you told him.

Lucifer found himself naturally returning the smile as you stood up from his desk. “I’ll go make you some tea,” you offered, beginning to walk towards the door of the study.

Did you ever stop giving? Well, Lucifer had to admit that a cup of tea did sound nice right now. On top of that, he didn’t want to turn down your offer when you were being so kind. But, he was pretty specific about his tea.

“Y/N, could you make it-,” Lucifer began to stay but you stopped him. “On the stronger side?” you finished for him.

Lucifer’s eyes widened and you paused for a moment as you realized what you had done. You took a breath before putting on a fake smile and telling him, “You just seem like the type that likes his tea stronger than most.” You then quickly disappeared into the kitchen to make the tea.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was left sitting in his study to ponder the words you had spoken. Even if he had a tell that indicated that he liked his tea strong, there was no tell in the world that he could have given to instruct you on how to fill out the paperwork. Something wasn’t right.

When you returned with his tea, it only furthered Lucifer’s suspicions as it was made exactly right. No one - except Barbatos and himself - had ever managed to make it exactly how he liked it.

And when you left the study for the final time that night, he couldn’t help but wonder - who exactly were you?

It took Mammon a bit longer than the others to notice anything suspicious.

The two of you spent a lot of time together since he was the one in charge of watching you. So you would think that he’d be the first to pick up on it if something strange was happening. 

But the truth was Mammon was so distracted by his feelings for you when you were in his presence that nothing else processed in his mind. All he could think about was keeping his cool and not letting the way he felt about you be exposed.

So, he never thought twice about the moments where you accidentally slipped up.

The two of you were at the casino and Mammon was so desperate to impress you with his gambling abilities. But, he was having a bit of a rough night. And every time he tried even harder to win, he fell into a worse position.

You had seen Mammon’s tricks many times in the casino and realized what he was doing wrong. You whispered the strategy in his ear and Mammon’s eyes widened. That was it! That’s exactly what he needed to do to win. 

He proceeded with your plan and smiled proudly as he finally won. You assumed you would be questioned on how you knew that tactic. Not many would have. But, Mammon didn’t say anything. He just assumed you were really good at gambling, which only made you more perfect for him. He was curious to see what other tricks you had up your sleeve and he didn’t want to scare you off by interrogating you.

The thing that did tip Mammon off was when you decided to wash his prized possession - the Demonio 666 Lexura.

Mammon didn’t let anyone touch his car except himself. He claimed he was the only one who “knew how to treat her right.”

But in your past experiences with Mammon, you knew how much he loved it when the car was clean. And he even showed you how to do it properly once. You used to surprise him with cleaning it and it always brought such a big smile to his face when he would look her over and not see a speck of dirt.

He also used specific cleaning materials on it so that it always had that shiny new car smell. In Mammon’s opinion, it was one of his favorite scents.

Nonetheless, this Mammon had never talked to you about his car. He never showed you how to clean her. And he certainly never allowed you to touch her.

Mammon wouldn’t get mad at you. You were too special to him. But, he did almost have a heart attack when he saw you next to his car, a rag in your hand.

He quickly ran up the stairs and said, “Oi! Human! What are ya doin’?”

You turned to face Mammon and gave him a small smile before telling him, “I thought I would clean your car for you.”

It was a nice gesture, really. And Mammon appreciated it. But, he had a very specific way of doing it. And as his mind was trying to find a way to tell you this without coming off rude, his eyes scanned the area.

That’s when he saw the cleaning materials you used. It was the exact same brand that he always bought. He never kept any on hand though which meant that you went out and chose to buy those specific items.

Mammon quickly began inspecting his car. His favorite smell overwhelmed his senses and his car now looked immaculate. How did you know?

At the end of it, all Mammon could say was ‘thank you’. But, deep down, Mammon felt weird. Like he was having a deja vu experience. 

You were a normie. So of course Levi wouldn’t want to hang out with you. Why would he?

Except he was incredibly interested in getting to know you. He coudn’t help it! There are so many things that Levi’s obsessed with that came from the human world and he had a hundred questions for you.

But his self-deprecating thoughts kept him from approaching you for fear of rejection. So he resorted to insulting you and pretty much acting completely indifferent towards you.

But, then you beat him in the TSL contest and he attacked you. He felt very bad afterward. Leave it to him to drive someone else away.

He approached you afterward to offer up a pact with him as an apology. It’s not like you would want to make a pact with him anyway. It was just the only thing he could think of to make it up to you.

When you agreed to make a pact with him, Levi was both shocked and surprisingly happy. He didn’t think having a pact with a normie would affect him this much. But there was just something about you. 

Levi used the pact as an excuse to spend more time with you. He asked you so many questions about the anime and manga he liked. There was no way you could know all of them, but somehow you did.

You answered all of Levi’s questions and not just with basic answers. You had conversations with him about it. Maybe you were an otaku like him. There’s no way you could know this much without being one.

Levi invited you to his room more and more often to hang out. Though you had to make sure not to tell the others. He couldn’t have them finding out.

Levi had been a little suspicious about the amount of knowledge you had on the things that he liked. But he wasn’t in a position to question you about it.

He invited you over to play a new game that had just been released in the Devildom. Technically it was an early release so there was hardly any information on the game.

Levi had been so excited to play it, but he heard that it was one of the hardest games that had ever been made and it was impossible to complete without a second player.

The two of you began playing and you both picked it up pretty easily. Well, Levi had picked it up pretty easily. You had already played the game countless times in the past and knew exactly what you were doing.

When you reached the final boss of the area, Levi let out a nervous sigh before pressing start. He was getting eaten alive. He couldn’t hit a single attack. He just kept getting countered and then hit. 

His health bar went down rapidly until his character died and he let out a frustrated sigh. He turned to face you, expecting you to be wearing the same expression, but you weren’t.

Levi covered his mouth and let out a startled noise as he watched your character on the screen. You knew the attack pattern and dodged every single one. Your fingers were moving at an unbelievable rate but what shocked Levi was your expression. You didn’t even look like you were trying.

There was no way you could be doing this having never played the game before. He refused to believe it. There was something he was missing.

The words “YOU WIN” appeared on the screen and you let out a satisfied chuckle as you set your controller down.

You turned to face Levi and saw the shock in his eyes as he stared at you. “I’ve just played a game like this before,” you told him with a small smile.

He was not buying it. Either you were a video game ninja, or there was something that you weren't telling him.

Either way, he was going to figure it out.

Satan was very aloof compared to his other brothers. He wasn’t a shut-in like Levi, he just preferred to keep to himself. He found that solitary was better than company most times - especially when it came to his brothers. Because of that, he didn’t really spend any time with you. 

He knew the basics. Things that Lucifer forced all of his brothers to know before you got to the Devildom. And, he tried to be polite when he did find himself in a conversation with you. 

He observed your relationship with his brothers. How they had all fallen under your spell to the point where you made pacts with four out of the seven of them. He was impressed by your abilities, but he promised himself he wouldn’t fall for the same trick.

That was until he saw you as an opportunity to get underneath Lucifer’s skin. He knew that it was bothering Lucifer how easily you were making pacts with the brothers. Satan making a pact with you would be icing on the cake. 

He never felt more angry or rejected when you refused to make a pact with him. Why didn’t you want him? You wanted to make a pact with everyone else - so why not him?

At the end of all of it though, Satan admired your strength to say no to him and potentially put yourself in harm’s way. He appreciated you for helping him see the value in his relationship with Lucifer. And he still got to make a pact with you - the right way.

Since he was a little late to the party, Satan was desperate to spend more time with you. He started becoming jealous when he saw you hanging out with his brothers instead of him and that led to him inviting you to his room.

He wanted to spend some time reading with you and was more than happy when you agreed to it with enthusiasm. He was surprised you were willing to spend a quiet evening with him instead of going to the club with Asmo or going gambling with Mammon.

He chose a book for the two of you to read and you got about a quarter of the way through when the book mentioned a specific curse. But, it didn’t explain what that curse did. It was bothering Satan so you decided to take it upon yourself to look for the curse.

You quickly moved around his room, knowing exactly which pile had the curse and spell books. You knew how far down the pile the book was and managed to pull it out effortlessly without causing the tower to tumble.

Satan was in pure shock. To every other person, his room looked like a cluttered disaster. It looked like his books were carelessly strewn about. But, he had an organizational system. He knew where every book he had was and even had them categorized in a specific order.

But, how did you know what that system was? This was the first time you had been in his room long enough to be able to actually look around; and, he never told anyone else about the way he organized his books so you couldn’t have overheard it. 

Satan’s eyes radiated with curiosity as he watched you come back and sit down next to him. You had the page opened to curse already. It was as if you had already read the book and knew where it was in the book.

You read the curse description out to Satan and then looked up to see him staring at you. His gaze caused you to pause for a moment as you asked, “What?”

Satan immediately reacted, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts. “It’s nothing. It’s just not a lot of people would be able to find their way around my room,” he replied.

It was natural to you. After you learned his system, it made complete sense to you. But you realized you weren’t supposed to know his system at this stage in your relationship. You were now panicking as you tried to come up with some explanation. 

You gave him a small smile before telling him, “That book was one of the ones you threw at Lucifer and I just happened to catch a glimpse of it.”

Asmo knew there was something different about you from the moment he met you. He tried to charm you once then. The moment got interrupted by Lucifer but Asmo could feel the resistance from you.

He tried again at the Demon Lord’s Castle only to once again be disappointed and intrigued by the results. What about you made it so that you could resist him - something no one else had ever been able to do?

Then he felt your power when you summoned him. It was something he had never felt before.

As a demon, things can get pretty boring and repetitive. The same club, the same drinks, the same succubi who wanted Asmo to take them home for the night. So when he felt the power you had - and the effect your power had on him - Asmo felt excited for the first time in a long time.

He had to get to know you more and what better way than by making a pact with you?

He told himself that he wouldn’t. That his other brothers had a moment of weakness when they made a pact with you. But, after that moment, he realized how easily it was to fall for your charm.

Asmo wanted to do everything with you after making a pact. He wanted to do your make-up and hair, go shopping with you, go out with you. Anything and everything he could think of.

Asmo was a fashion icon for a reason. He had very specific rules he followed when choosing an outfit to wear. He had a whole chart in his head of which colors went with each other, which fabrics were good for the current weather, and which hairstyles went with those fabrics.

Each of his looks was planned out to the very last detail. He had it all memorized so easily. So, when you asked him for help choosing your outfit for the night, he was more than happy to do so.

He didn’t tell you about the intricacies of it. It would be far too much for you to try and understand all at once. He was just planning on going through the chart in his head as you went through your different outfits.

So, when you began going through Asmo’s checklist, he froze. You were talking about the fabrics and the colors. The shoes that would match the outfit but not match the hairstyle you were planning. The weather affecting your outfit. You were checking every single one of his boxes.

Had Asmo told you about his checklist without realizing it? His head felt like it was starting to spin the more he thought about it. 

“Okay, I think this outfit meets all of the criteria. What do you think?” you asked Asmo, smiling at him as you showed him what you picked out. 

Asmo quickly snapped back into reality giving you a nod. “It’s perfect!” he replied.

As much as Asmo wanted to question you on your fashion knowledge, he left it alone for now. He’s always known there was something different about you, and this just proved his point.

You were special in a very fascinating way and he enjoyed finding out your unique quirks on his own. He didn’t want to push anything. He wanted to experience them firsthand.

You were the first person to make him feel something stronger than lust and he was going to savor every moment he could when this emotion presented itself.

Beel isn’t a very particular demon. He doesn’t have specific systems or ways of doing things. He just goes with the flow most of the time. 

His mind was predominantly occupied with the thought of food. And, when he wasn’t eating, he was either at school, working out, or spending time with you or one of his brothers.

So he didn’t really have any extra time to find a hobby where he could make a system and he didn’t have any prized possessions like Mammon’s car.

Food was theoretically his hobby and even then, he didn’t care what he was eating. He didn’t need it to be a five-star dish where every spice was carefully added in. Preferably, he just didn’t want to eat Solomon’s cooking.

But, if it was the only food around him, he would eat it with no problem. He wouldn’t even question what was in it. In all honesty, he was probably better off not knowing.

So, when Beel noticed things were a bit suspicious, it wasn’t because you did something specific for him. It was because of how well you knew his routine. 

You had come to know exactly when Beel would be hungry and you liked being prepared with a snack or meal at those times.

The first couple of times you did it, Beel thought it was because he was being physically active. Because you gave him a snack after his Fangol game or after he came back to the House of Lamentation after a workout session.

But, then it progressed. He would be in the middle of class and his stomach would rumble. Before he could even think he was hungry, you would be handing him something to eat.

He would be in the middle of studying and you would continuously make sure he was fed without him having to ask.

And on top of all that, you knew what his favorite food and drinks were and you made sure he was able to have those items whenever he wanted.

It was a welcome gesture. After all, when you’re eating constantly, nothing ever really stands out in flavor. So when he’s able to eat something he really enjoys - it’s like a special treat for him.

You and Beel were watching a movie in your room when he finally asked you. He had already eaten all of the snacks he brought but something was missing. He was craving something…sweet?

Without taking your eyes off the movie, you pulled out a chocolate bar and handed it to Beel. You acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You didn’t even blink when you did it.

But Beel was completely surprised. “How did you know that I wanted that?” Beel asked, taking the chocolate bar from you.

You finally looked away from the movie to see the confusion in Beel’s eyes. “It only makes sense to have something sweet after all that popcorn,” you replied nonchalantly.

“But, you always know what I want when I want it,” Beel pressed on. He had held his tongue for a little too long and now he just wanted an answer. 

You paused as you tried to figure out what to say when a brilliant idea came to mind. 

“The student council did a survey on everyone’s favorite foods for lunches at the cafeteria. That’s how I know what you like. And, you get hungry every day at about the same time. So after the first couple of days, I figured out when you would be hungry.”

It was a simple explanation, but it satisfied Beel. At least for now.

Belphie was always a bit suspicious about you. Not only were you a human, but while he was locked up in the attic, you had no problem calling him out.

You knew every lie he was going to tell you before he could even say the words. 

He wanted to make himself look better to you so that you would help him. But, when he went to tell you a sob story, you told him to cut the act and just be honest with you. What were you? A human lie detector?

To be honest, Belphie was starting to get a bit frustrated with you when he realized he couldn’t say anything but the truth. 

You knew that he hated humans and that he was going to kill you the first chance he got. But, you still agreed to help him. Why? Belphie determined there must be something wrong with you mentally.

How did you know so much about him in the first place? He figured Beel must have told you some things about him. It was the only thing that made sense.

You did as Belphie had asked and managed to make pacts with his brothers. And the second the door to the attic was open, he did as you knew he would and attacked you.

But hold on a second…did you just dodge his attack? He tried once again only for you to move quickly out of the way. Now, the other brothers had heard the commotion and had come to your rescue before Belphie could lay a hand on you.

How did you know his attack pattern? How did you know the exact moment he was coming for you?

Your foresight stands out the most to Belphie. To the point where he can’t help but wonder if his brothers had picked up on it as well. 

He wanted to understand how you knew so much about him without knowing him so he started spending more time around you. He started noticing the small details about what you liked and didn’t like.

He noticed the way that you knew exactly how he liked to lie down when he was taking a nap. What his favorite pillow was and the perfect temperature for a good rest.

You knew he liked stargazing and that his favorite food was sushi. You even surprised him with movie tickets once. Did Beel tell you all this information about him? Is that how you knew?

Belphie was having a particularly restless night and decided to leave his and Beel’s shared room to try the bed in the attic. He grabbed his favorite pillow and made his way out into the hallway.

He just so happened to bump into you and looked at you curiously. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked. You shrugged your shoulders in response before questioning, “Can’t sleep, huh?”

Whenever Belphie was leaving the twin’s bedroom you knew he was having a hard time falling asleep. Belphie nodded his head and you gently took his hand before leading him up to the attic.

Did he tell you he wanted to come up here? You got onto the bed before motioning for Belphie to join you. He was skeptical at first. This would be the first he was this close to you and he wasn’t sure how to react.

But you knew this was a surefire way to get Belphie to relax and go to sleep. So you urged him once again to get in the bed.

He did this time, lying down next to you. You guided him so that he was lying on your chest, his arms wrapped around you. Your scent overwhelmed him in a comforting way and he felt all of his tension release when you began running your fingers through his hair.

The warmth of your body added to his relaxation and he found himself quickly starting to fall asleep. It was strange to him. He had never laid like this with you before. Yet - it felt like it was the most natural thing in the world.  

Diavolo kept a careful eye on you whenever he could. You were his exchange student after all. He trusted Lucifer with the task of making sure you were safe from harm. But, at the same time, he wanted to ensure your safety himself.

Something about you drew him in. He was supposed to remain impartial towards the exchange students. He couldn’t favor them in any way. If he did, it wouldn’t be a proper test to see if humans and angels could adjust to life in the Devildom.

He had the power to give you everything you could ever desire. But he needed you to experience things on your own. And although he couldn’t show you any favoritism, that didn’t stop his growing feelings for you. It didn’t stop the curiosity he had about you.

He would notice the way you were with the brothers. You fit in perfectly with them - as if you were a missing piece in their puzzle.

You knew everything about them. How to keep Mammon from falling for pyramid schemes. How to get Levi to spend more time out of his room. How to calm Satan’s rage. How to get Asmo to look beyond his appearance. How to satisfy Beel’s hunger. And how to motivate Belphie to stay awake for longer.

Diavolo could see the way you had even managed to get to Lucifer when the two of you were dancing at one of his balls. Lucifer was genuinely smiling and Diavolo was…jealous.

When he realized that he was jealous of the seven demon brothers, Diavolo made it a point to spend more time with you. He wanted to get to know you and he wasn’t going to let his royal duties stand in the way of it.

He invited you out to dinner with him and the two of you were having a great time. Diavolo felt like he could really open up to you. So he told you some of the worries he was having about becoming the King of the Devildom.

He expected you to be a great listener, but he never expected you to help him so much. You knew all the right words to say.

You knew the history of the Devildom and what the leaders before him had done - including his father. You talked about his aspirations that he had yet to even share with Barbatos or Lucifer.

You made him see things in a light he never would have thought of. And, at the end of your speech, when you placed your hand on top of his, feelings overwhelmed Diavolo.

He didn’t know how you knew so much about the Devildom. Maybe Satan had been helping you study. And he didn’t know how you knew so much about his dreams for the Devildom. Maybe you were just blessed with big dreams like he was.

He was a bit skeptical of it all. He believed there was no way that you could know so much about everyone after being a random human who was chosen to come to RAD. There were too many coincidences and instances where you knew things you shouldn’t. 

He wanted to explore further and find an answer to his questions. But, at the end of the day, all that mattered was that he believed you truly belonged in the Devildom with all of them.

And when your hand touched his, it was the first time he had felt so much joy and love for one person. That was a feeling he wasn’t going to let go of.

Barbatos is the most wary of you. His ability is to see both the past and the future and to alter realities as he sees fit. So, whenever something suspicious is happening that involves time as a construct itself, he senses it.

He keeps a close eye on you. He couldn’t say what it was for sure that was different about you. You didn’t seem like you were from the past. Your aura didn’t match those he had met who had traveled to the future.

But, you definitely didn’t seem like you were truly from the present. He was on the same page as Lord Diavolo. There were far too many coincidences for one to chalk it up to you just being particularly intuitive. 

He wasn’t sure if you were using a spell or a curse. But he was positive you were either from the future or from a different reality. He didn’t say anything to anyone else though.

Getting others involved in the affair of time almost always resulted in dire consequences. He did try to figure it all out on his own though. Why were you there?

He could tell you weren’t a threat to the others. You seemed to genuinely care about them. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be spending as much time with them or doing the things that make them happy.

He came to the conclusion that this wasn’t the first time you had gotten to know them. He could see it in your eyes. The slightly tired look when you had to pretend like you didn’t know something. He imagined it was exhausting.

But, why would you be here if you already knew everyone? He studied your body language more. The way you were so happy just to be around everyone. The sad look in your eyes when they left. Almost heartbroken

Because it reminded you of a time when they left for good. So, that’s it then. One - or from the look in your eyes - all of them had met their end and you were here trying to prevent that.

Barbatos had to will himself not to open the door in his room to see what happened. Sometimes it was better not to know.

You and he had a chance to talk alone after the retreat at the castle. You offered to help Barbatos clean up the mess the others had left. And, even though he had a very specific way of doing things, he allowed you to help. This was his opportunity to try and find out more information from you.

When you started cleaning though, he was at a loss for words. You were doing everything perfectly, exactly in the order that he would do it. But in order for you to know that - you and he must have gotten quite close.

Barbatos’ mind began to race. He knew you were close to the others but he never thought he would have been one to fall for you as well. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked him and he immediately concealed whatever emotions he was feeling with a smile. 

“Yes, I’m just surprised by your efficiency,” Barbatos replied.

The fact that you had come either from the future or another reality meant that his time could be limited.

And now he was going to make sure to make the most of it. He wanted to get to know you the way the others had before it was too late.

Solomon knew more than he let on most of the time. He liked being the mysterious figure and keeping everyone on their toes.

He could tell that you had an immense potential for magic from the first moment he met you.

Everyone told him that you had no magical capabilities and that you were just a normal human. But he could see that was a lie, even if you couldn’t.

It was his mission to release that potential, but he had to be smart about it. He wanted you to find out about it on your own. He would just be there to give you a gentle nudge in the right direction when the time called for it.

He didn’t get much alone time with you, thanks to the brothers, so he had to watch your growth from afar.

He would study you in classes, watching as you would effortlessly perform whatever spell or curse the instructor had asked you to. Solomon knew that you would be able to perform them, but what he found intriguing was the expression you wore while doing them.

Your eyes looked slightly zoned out as you half-heartedly spoke the words. Sometimes gesturing lazily while you said the spell. You looked bored. As if you had already performed all these spells before.

It only piqued Solomon’s interest more and he eventually asked you to be his apprentice. He couldn’t be more happy when you accepted.

Solomon taught you some basic spells and was amused when you performed them easily. He moved onto the more intricate ones thinking he’d finally be able to challenge you. But he was shell-shocked when you performed them almost as easily. No magical capabilities? Whoever wrote that fact down about you got it all wrong.

Solomon decided to move on to something a bit more challenging - cooking. 

“Oh, that’s okay, I’m actually a great cook. How about you teach me how to do teleportation magic instead?” you asked, a hopeful gleam in your eyes.

“Now, Y/N, cooking is an important part of learning magic. A lot of curses require specific ingredients. Though I usually like to mix mine and see what happens!” Solomon responded with a smile as he began pulling out various items. 

“I usually just add things as I feel like it, but I do have one dish in particular where I actually follow a recipe,” Solomon added.

“Let me guess, you call it the Solomon Special?” you asked. Solomon looked shocked as he asked, “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” you replied, grabbing ingredients and throwing them into the pot. You were making it without Solomon even telling you how to do it. And you didn’t get a single thing wrong. 

That was impossible. This was his secret recipe. He had never shared it with anyone. In fact, the only reason he was about to share it with you was to impress you with his cooking skills.

“And done! Now let’s get out of the kitchen,” you said, leading him out of the room. Solomon trailed behind you. Something definitely wasn’t right here.

Solomon started paying more attention to you when you performed magic. He was trying to comprehend how you knew about a secret that was so “special” to him. 

He would use his own magical abilities to try and find the answers he was looking for. He could tell that you had a secret and he was dying to find out what it was.

Simeon had many things in his life that he kept from others. When you lived as long as he had, you witnessed many things that weren’t always pleasant to share with others.

Because of this, he got used to not sharing things. He always put on a smile and had a positive outlook towards things in life. 

He found a creative outlet to express his emotions - writing. And he used the stories he created to tell the secrets he held and wrote under a pen name so that he didn’t expose the truth. 

He was happy like that. He never felt the need to tell others about his past experiences or how he felt about them…Until he met you. A random human who others claimed wasn’t capable of anything significant.

Yet, from the moment he saw you, he felt something stir within him. He felt a connection to you unlike one he had ever felt before.

Your beauty caught him off guard and he was even more surprised when your kindness surpassed his own. How could a human be so perfect?

Simeon knew he was in trouble when it came to you. You were someone he could risk losing everything for.

Because of that, he did what he could to keep his distance. He was always nice to you and talked to you when you were around the others. But, he didn’t go out of his way to get alone time with you. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. 

But, then you said something to him that made him freeze. He had mentioned something to you about having writer’s block and your response was innocent. You were just trying to be friendly. But, it made Simeon begin to question you. 

“I’m sure you’ll get the motivation to write again soon. You have so much talent. Just look at how popular TSL has become!” you told him, doing your best to encourage him.

There was only one problem. He hadn’t told anyone that he was the author of that series. And, you had only come to know about TSL after you came to the Devildom. After you met him. So, how did you know?

The secret was out. The things he had been trying so hard to conceal were revealed. Yet, he didn’t feel the way he thought he would. You had spoken to him about his book with so much kindness in your heart. There was no judgment, there were no questions. 

The smile you gave Simeon attracted him even more as his mind raced. There was no explanation as to why you knew that information. 

The logical thing would be to question you about how you knew it. Especially considering this wasn’t the first time that you’ve known something you shouldn’t have. 

And although that was the logical thing to do. The only thing Simeon could think about was how he wanted to tell you more about himself.

To finally relieve the weight he’s been carrying around for as long as he could remember. Because he knew that you would listen to him and never make him feel bad for it. He knew that you were special.

BONUS CHARACTERS:

LUKE

The others weren’t the only ones who noticed your strange behavior. It wasn’t hard to see that you had a special talent for knowing about them and their likes and dislikes.

Luke got an example of this almost right away. He took a liking to your kindness immediately. All things considered, you were a remarkable human and he enjoyed spending time with you. 

He also believed that if you spent too much time with the demons then they would find a way to taint your soul. He was an angel after all and could see your virtue. Virtue that he didn’t want to change because of your time here in the Devildom.

He followed Simeon around in an attempt to warn you about the demons. He had finally seen you and opened his mouth to say something when you surprised him.

You held up a slice of Barbatos' Signature Cake. Luke immediately froze as he looked at the piece of cake in your hand.

He would never ask Barbatos - a demon - for the cake himself. Yet it was one of his guilty pleasures. He loved the combination of flavors the dessert provided.

“We were at the Demon Lord’s Castle, and Barbatos was serving his cake. I made sure to grab you a piece,” you told Luke with a small smile.

Had he said he liked Barbatos' dessert before? It couldn’t have just been a lucky guess. Why would you specifically go out of your way to save him a slice unless you knew how much he liked it. 

Luke was considered “young” for an angel so he was still learning some things. But he knew enough to know that there was something more going on than you were letting on.

THIRTEEN

You and Thirteen had been talking about one of the many adventures you had gone on with the brothers.

She had heard a rumor about it and asked you for the full story. So, you gladly indulged her request, giving her all the awful details about the trouble that befell you.

Thirteen thoroughly enjoyed the tale, especially how high stakes it was. It was truly a life-or-death situation.

She couldn’t help but imagine how if she had been there she would have had the perfect trap to get out of that situation.

As if reading her mind, you stated, “If only we had your Devouring D.D.D. trap.” Thirteen was surprised that you had stated what she was thinking.

But she was even more surprised at the trap you had mentioned. She only thought of it a few days prior and hadn’t told anyone about the idea. She hadn’t even started planning out all of the logistics for it.

So, how did you know about it? Could you read minds or something?

Thirteen knew there was something different about you because she could see how shiny your soul was.

But, there was more to you than just a shiny soul and she wanted to know what it was. Maybe she could use one of her traps to find out?

MEPHISTO

Mephisto didn’t really come into contact with you. His royal duties kept him pretty busy. And he wouldn’t dare slack off and risk looking bad in front of Lord Diavolo just to chat with the new human student.

But, he wasn’t oblivious to the way everyone acted around you. He could see that you were more than just a simple human.

What really sold it for him though was when he was planning on making those terrible stickers of Lord Diavolo and Lucifer. 

Mammon had recruited him for the Lucifer sticker and Mephisto gladly agreed. He was happy to be involved with something that might embarrass Lucifer.

They had all sworn secrecy to each other because they knew if news got out then they would be in big trouble.

Mephisto ensured that the brothers hadn’t told anyone. He was going to share the Lucifer sticker anonymously after school that day. He was quite proud of it. It was Lucifer riding a white unicorn. He believed it was quite clever.

You were passing Mephisto on your way out of the class and you told him, “You should make the unicorn pink and purple.”

Mephisto let out a small gasp at your words. Had one of the brothers leaked their plan? There was no way they could have. Mephisto had been keeping a careful eye on them all day.

So then how did you-?

Wait, you were right! Pink and purple would look much better and only further Lucifer’s embarrassment. Thanks, Y/N.

RAPHAEL

Not even Raphael was safe from your knowledge. He visited the Devildom rarely and his trips were usually so few and far between.

He had only talked to you on a few occasions and during those times, you didn’t really have any personal conversations.

Most of the information Raphael knew about you was because of what he heard from the others. 

And he was sure that it was the same way for you when it came to him. 

So, he was completely awestruck when Simeon handed him a present from you. Simeon had been visiting the Celestial Realm and you asked him to bring Raphael a present for you. 

Raphael opened it to see a beautiful spear enclosed. It was made from a very rare material that could only be found in the Devildom. It was said to have the potential to inflict ten times more damage than the one he currently had.

He never voiced this wish to anyone though. It was something he held as a secret in his heart because he was afraid that the other angels would look at him in disdain for wanting to acquire something from the Devildom.

Raphael ran his fingers over the spear. You must have some kind of mental telepathy abilities. The others had told him you were special but he didn’t see the extent of it until now.

You were not an ordinary human.

[juletheghoul]

Hi, thanks for continuously expanding the story of The General. I like reading it. :) I'm just wondering if you might feel like writing kind of like sci/fi time travel troupe where a woman (willfull and stubborn) from the present gets transported back to ancient Rome and meets Marcus Acacius. How would their dynamics be?

Obsessed with this, genuinely—I started a little something 👀

Not sure if I’ll continue it or make it into something big but I loved the idea of them not even understanding one another.

Hope you enjoy! 💕

(Not beta’d, barely proofread)

—

Warnings; threat of violence, language, shifting POV, plenty of historical inaccuracies I’m sure lol

Pairing; Marcus Acacius x Modern F!reader (time travel shenanigans)

Word count; 1.4k

-

The sigh doesn’t fix anything, but it helps with the frustration. So you let out another one, deeper than the original while you gather your wits. This was Rome, a massive city with millions of tourists trekking through it just like you, surely if they could do it without getting hopelessly lost, you could too.

The ruins were a maze, incredibly easy to get mixed up and turned around in. It was just a matter of retracing your steps and rejoining your group. Easy peasy.

With renewed optimism, you follow the sounds of people ringing through the remnants of the temple, or bathhouse, or gladiatorial training rooms… where the fuck even am I again?

You backtrack through the doorway, turning left into what must have been an antichamber, or dormitory? The mosaic under your feet isn’t familiar and a sense of dread creeps along your spine, should you have turned right? There’s a giant arch in the distance, one you distinctly don’t remember walking through. It doesn’t look as aged as the rest of the structure, most likely preserved when the site was excavated.

Walking through the arch fills you with a foreboding dread, like being dunked in ice water. It leaves you dazed, stumbling into the light of the sun almost drunk. An open door all but manifests and it’s with a relief so great it almost pulls tears from your eyes that you finally exit the building and step into the open air. You cannot help but laugh at yourself, embarrassed by your reaction, by the silly fear of getting lost.

The sun is hotter than you remembered it being when you left the hotel that morning and all at once the desire to explore and take in the culture all but evaporated. Resigned to abandon the tour, you decide to make your way back to the hotel. The new goal, the new prize for the day is a shower and an ungodly amount of pasta.

The road is nowhere to be found. The tourists have disappeared, and have been replaced with what looked to be actors. A fresh horror spreads through your veins, the exit you came out of must have led somewhere you were definitely not supposed to be.

-

He’d been called forth to deal with a strange situation. A woman had somehow infiltrated his camp. He frowned at the news, scoffing at the sentinel who’d brought it to him.

“A woman? Solitary? One woman snuck passed you and made her way into my camp?” He all but sneered at the soldier, anger pulsing in his head to learn that his guards were not as observant as he would have thought, as he trained them to be.

“General, by the Gods, we did not see her. One moment there was no one and then the next she was there, like some apparition.” He seems rattled, Acacius didn’t blame him. A lapse in protection meant death and dishonour. It meant his army was not in the shape it should be. Rome was not safe, not protected.

“Well, what has she to say for herself? What explanation did she provide for her miraculous presence here?”

“We do not know, we cannot understand her.”

He sighs. Anger bleeds into his tone when he orders her brought to him, dismissing the useless soldier in the process.

When they bring her to him, he frowns. Her robes confuse him, the fabric almost painted in the strangest shades, some he’s never even seen. She clutches at a bag, at a strange jar and although her voice is clearly agitated and angry, he cannot understand the words she speaks. Her face is painted, eyes darkened with some sort of kohl, lips shiny with oil and for a moment he thinks she might be one of the women who sold herself.

“Peace, woman.” He puts his hands up and speaks slowly, “I need to know where you come from, and why you are here. What is it you seek?” She twists her face in confusion, anger colouring her voice more still. She screams at him in more words he doesn’t understand until the soldiers that had brought her approach to no doubt silence her. At the sound of their footsteps her eyes widen with what he knows is genuine fear.

“Don’t.” He commands them, and they stop in their tracks. “Leave her with me. Go about your business, and tighten up the borders of this camp.” He sends them away with daggers in his voice.

“But General-what if she attacks?” They hesitate for a moment.

“I can handle her. Go.” They leave, her eyes follow them before turning back to him. She speaks again but he shakes his head.

“What am I to do with you then, hm?”

-

If you had known that you’d land in some insane fucking ancient Roman reenactment, you would have stayed in the hotel.

The older man is really into his role, some high and mighty soldier or general on a power trip or God fucking knows what, holds you in his tent. You try to explain to him calmly and then not so calmly that this is a mistake, that you didn’t mean to crash their party and that you just want to make it back to the hotel. He frowns, and shakes his head with confusion. He responds in his own language, what you imagine is Latin and the frustration floods you once more.

“If you cannot help me, I will leave. I’ll just go back through the stupid building and see if I can catch up with my tour group. If they haven’t already left, God if I missed my shuttle I will lose my fucking mind.” With a sigh you clutch at your bag and turn towards the entrance. You don’t make it three steps before he grabs at your arm, holding you in place with what sounds like a stern warning.

“Listen, I appreciate the realism and everything here, but let go, I need to leave.” You try to shake out of his grip but it’s iron, his big hand tightens enough to hurt.

“You’re hurting me, let me go!” With a growing fear, you try harder until he pulls a knife from a hidden pocket and presses it to your throat. He points to the entrance, to you, and then presses the tip to your neck once more.

You cannot understand his words, but the warning is crystal clear. If you leave, he will kill you.

“Intellego?” You can infer what he must mean, and so you nod. He returns the gesture and puts the knife away. He moves about the tent while you stand there, arms aching from clutching at your things, body trembling with fear and adrenaline at his threat of violence. He continues speaking, his deep, clear voice filling the space while he moves things around and gestures to a giant scroll.

Stuck like a fly in honey, you watch him pointing and talking, half listening while you try to formulate an escape route.

He comes close with a huff, pulling you gently towards his table.

It looks like a map, but it’s not like any map you’ve ever seen.

“What the fuck am I meant to be looking at here?”

He continues speaking, pointing at the map, and then gesturing outside. He points again, at a different spot and then to himself.

“Oh.. okay you’re from here?” He nods, then he takes your hand and puts it on the map, repeating his words and you can assume he’s asking you to point out where you come from.

“Dude I don’t know, this map is wild as hell and about a thousand years out of date from the looks of it.” You move your hand away but he persists, a bulldog with a bone. He takes your hand and puts it on the map, then taps your chest, asking his question once more.

“I’m not on this map!” You tap your chest, and then to the edge of the map, “I’m not here, we’re not on the map yet. Understand?” You gesture again, pointing to an empty edge, and point to yourself.

The look on his face is almost funny, he’s either really committed to his role, or this is the weirdest fucking dream you’ve ever had.

He’s quiet after that, ruminating, studying you with a critical eye and after the day you’ve had you don’t have the patience. You sit in one of the chairs, resigned to endure the ride until you find an opportunity to get off, and away as quickly as you can.

-

Tag list; @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name