Anger doesn’t always slam doors. Sometimes it simmers. Sometimes it cuts.

╰ They go still. Not calm... still. Like something is pulling tight inside them.

╰ They smile, but their eyes? Cold. Flat. Done.

╰ Their voice gets quieter, not louder. Controlled. Measured. Weaponized.

╰ They ask questions they already know the answers to, just to watch someone squirm.

╰ Their words are clipped. Polite. But razor-sharp.

╰ They laugh once. Without humor. You know the one.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #523)

✅️ Vetted by @90-ghost here

Dear merciful souls before everything I'm now writing to you and my kids are so hungry we don't know what to eat because everything running out and the cross borders were closed for three months so please read my story to the end 🥺🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Hello, I am full of hope and hope that you will read my message with love and that you will enjoy abundant health and well-being.

I come to you with an appeal that is heavy on my heart and that I had never imagined.

I look at you from under the war and the constant bombing of us in all its forms that the human or animal soul cannot comprehend

I am Jehad Kassab , a lawyer and legal consultant from Gaza City - Palestine. I hold a bachelor’s degree in law and many legal experiences. I have been working in the legal profession for a long time and I had a good work , which have become meaningless before this world, to stop the machine of war and destruction that has befallen us ،I had a private law office after the Israeli planes completely destroyed it and everything in it, after I built it with all its beauty after many years of toil, and it is my only source of livelihood.

I have a beautiful family that loves life as you love it and lives it in all its details. My family consists of (my wife, a nurse, and my son Khaled, a year and a half old, who has not seen life in all its details and does not know what it is yet, and my second daughter is now 11 months her age as the age of this bad war.

Our house was completely destroyed at the beginning of the war on Gaza with everything, and we did not even take anything out of it, not even the clothes, in the hope that we would return to it before it was bombed by Israeli warplanes

We were briefly displaced to southern Gaza and stayed in tents until this moment. We lived and are still living the harshest types of genocide in the full sense of the word: displacement, destruction, coming out from under bombardment, pollution, epidemics, and the difficulty of sleeping due to the sound of planes and the bombing that did not leave for a single second. Has the world become desolate or are we not fit to improve? For life or what? We do not know Khaled who started pronouncing the word bombing, and I am afraid.

I am not begging you or listing all the details, because an entire newspaper will not be enough. Television screens and social networking sites are enough to tell you about us, and no matter how much you try to say, what we feel will not reach you because we do not wish anyone to live as we live.

We are victims of conflicts and conflicts. We love life as long as we can. We do not like any form of war. We want a future like the rest of humanity for ourselves and our children.

In this moment of despair, I reach out to you, not just as a stranger, but as a human being, connected by our common humanity and the belief that compassion knows no bounds. Your support, no matter how small, can make an immeasurable difference in the lives of those struggling to find hope amidst the rubble.

We desperately need your support to rebuild my family's life that was destroyed by the war on Gaza and there is literally nothing left ، provide us with a glimmer of hope for a better life after we were fine before October 7th last year. Your support could mean everything to us ، If you are unable to support, please consider sharing our case. Every bit of support helps.

We also evacuated many times and the two baby were sick alot because of the bad environment

and you know there's no hospitals or medicin or even healthy food

and the rest of the.money will be used for the living expenses

We appreciate your help, even if it is just a little

Thank you all

You can share or donate this ‼️🙏🥺

Or here directly

I glanced around the room— it was my prison for the past three years. The bed, neatly made, the worn rocking chair in the corner, its wood rubbed smooth by countless hours of nursing Eden, the faded curtains I had sewn myself.

Micah had left early, as he often did, locking the door behind him. But something in me had shifted that time. Perhaps it was the way Eden had looked at me with those clear eyes, as if seeing me for the first time, really seeing me.

I saw myself reflected in those eyes, truly saw myself—the woman I had been, the mother I had become. And I knew then that we could not stay here.

Not another day.

Not another hour.

I had bundled him up, pulling a small bag from the closet— one that I had packed in secret over the weeks, stowing away small things that Micah wouldn’t notice. It wasn’t much— just some clothes, diapers, and a small children’s book.

The plan was simple— too simple, perhaps. Slip out unnoticed, walk the streets as though nothing was amiss, as though I were just another mother taking her child for a stroll. Once we reached the outskirts, we would find a way to leave this place, to escape him. Somehow, I told myself. Somehow we will be free.

“Shh, baby,” I softly say as I tucked the blanket tighter around Eden’s small frame. “We have to be quiet now, okay?”

Eden blinked up at her with those bright, clear eyes that were nothing like Micah’s. His hair was the same light shade, his features a mirror of his father’s, but those eyes— they were mine. He was the only part of me that hadn’t been tainted by Micah, yet.

Eden blinked up at me, his bright, clear eyes— so different from his father’s. His hair was the same pale shade as Micah’s, and his features echoed his father’s angelic feautures. Yet those eyes—they were mine, untouched by him. He was the only part of me that hadn’t been tainted… not yet.

I pressed a kiss to his forehead, breathing in the scent of him, that sweet, innocent smell that only babies possess. It anchored me, if only for a moment. His breath was warm against my neck, and I could feel his tiny heartbeat— fast, like a hummingbird— beating in time with my own.

But as I stepped outside, the cold air biting at my skin. The town was quiet, the streets empty, but I could feel the eyes of the houses on me, their windows like unblinking stares. My hands shook as I fumbled with the gate, Eden stirring slightly in my arms.

We made it a few streets over before I heard it— the sound of footsteps behind me.

“Y/N…”

I froze, every muscle in my body locking into place. I turned slowly, as if in a trance, to find Micah standing beneath the pale light of the rising sun. His eyes dark and unreadable. His face was calm, almost serene, but there was something in it that made my blood run cold. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he finally spoke, low and steady, the way it always was.

Eden shifted in my arms, turning to look at his father, his bright eyes blinking up at him with innocently. I felt my breath catch in my throat as Micah stepped closer.

“I—” I started, but the words died in my mouth. What could I say? That I wanted to leave? That I needed to escape? That I couldn’t breathe in his presence?

But Micah didn’t need me to speak. He reached out, gently, almost tenderly, and took Eden from my arms. The boy went to him without protest, a wide smile spreading across his face as he wrapped his little arms around his father’s neck.

“You’re tired,” Micah said softly, his hand brushing against my cheek. His touch was deceptively gentle, as it always was. “You need to rest. You’re not thinking clearly.”

I wanted to scream, to push him away, to grab my son and run. But my body betrayed me, going still under his gaze. He had won, as he always did.

Micah turned, Eden still cradled in his arms, and began to walk back toward the house. I followed, because there was nothing else I could do. The streets seemed narrower now, the sky darker.

When we returned, Micah set Eden down, and the boy toddled off to play, oblivious. Micah said nothing more about my attempt to leave. He didn’t need to. Eden clambered back into his father’s arms, Micah’s long, pale hair trailing through the boy’s small fingers, he swept a hand across the my son’s back. His opened eyes, empty as the void. Yet his smile remained, gentle, almost kind— disarming. It held all the warning I needed.

And so, the day passed as it always does.

DUDE!!!! HOW ARE YOU SENDING IN MASTERPIECE AFTER MASTERPIECE THIS FAST!!!!

God Micah is so scary I love this so so much. The way he appeared? Are you a monster??

I feel so bad for the reader man, it's like she's a flower he took home with him, forever unable to escape under his watchful eyes.

He knelt in the soil, hands deep in the black earth, when he heard the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel path. Slowly, he rose, wiping his hands on his cassock before turning. And there she was.

Sister Y/N, the newest novice.

The Mother Superior had introduced them formally last week, a brief exchange of pleasantries— a mere formality. She, like so many others, had barely registered in his mind at the time. Another novice, another soul seeking redemption to the Lord.

Unspoiled, and faithful. Her face was soft, framed by the simple habit, her eyes wide and too trusting. Micah had smiled, a smile crafted with the care of a sculptor.

Before he knew it— he wanted to ruin that pure expression to something deliciously defiled.

How sweet indeed, terribly sweet.

Y/N approached him, that same sweetness clung to her like the dew that glistened on the petals at dawn.

“Father Micah,” she says. How she looks at him, it was quite adorable to say the least. The way she seemed to hang on his every word— completely unaware of his unholy thoughts… adorable.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He turned to her, hands still cradling a delicate white rose, its petals soft like a cloud. “Ah, how thoughtful of you to offer your assistance, fufufu,” he cooed. His fingers brushed the rose almost reverently. "But I fear there is not much to be done in this garden. The flowers here have already been watered and primmed."

“I see…” Y/N looked visibly disappointed, a pout formed on her lips. As she began to turn and move away, she felt a warm hand gently close around her own.

"Before you go, I have something for you."

Grasping the slender stem of the white rose, Micah plucked it carefully. The flower in his hand appeared to match her— pure and delicate in its simplicity.

"I cannot let you leave empty handed, Sister," he extended the rose to her, its pale petals glowing in the light. "Here, a small token of my appreciation for your kind offer."

Her expression brightened like the sun on a clear day. “T-Thank you!”

She reached for it, her smile shy as she accepted the gift. But as her fingers closed around the stem, she winced— so slight, a brief flicker of pain— her finger slipped, catching on one of the rose’s hidden thorns. A single drop of blood welled up from the wound. It was a small thing, a mere prick.

Small tears welled up in her eyes— it set delightful shivers into his spine. He watched, transfixed, as the crimson bead slid down her finger, falling onto the white petals below.

The rose drank in the blood greedily, the purity of its petals stained with red.

Ah, it appears the thorns have claimed their offering. A small price to pay for such a lovely color, his thoughts coo at her, patronizingly.

He reached out without warning, his long, slender fingers encircling her wrist in a firm grip. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his sudden grasp. Startled, her gaze met his closed eyes, confused.

"Let me see,” Micah says, there honeyed sweetness in his words. "Such beautiful hands are not meant to bleed.”

Unless he wills it so.

Micah gently brought her finger to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the blood— sweet as the forbidden fruit. He understood why Eve took the bite of the apple.

He then brought the digit between his own, using his free hand to gently squeeze, coaxing more blood to the surface. He brought his lips to her again, licking the remaining blood away. A tiny gasp escaped her lips, and her cheeks flushed slightly. He could feel her pulse quicken under his fingertips.

She was sweet as he had thought.

"F-Father!”

"Is something wrong?" Micah continued to hold her wrist, feigning innocence.

"It's just that..." Y/N began, stumbling over her words as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of scarlet.

“Hmmm?”

"N-No, it's nothing..."she replied, her cheeks growing even more flushed.

As he continued to keep hold of her slender wrist, his other hand gently moved to cup her chin, holding her gaze steadfast.

"You seem awfully flushed," he said, his thumb brushing over her rosy cheek. "Are you unwell perchance?"

“No— I-I'm fine,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"But your face is so red," Micah noted with a slight tilt of his head. "Let me check your temperature.

His hand moved to her forehead, his touch gentle yet firm. He allowed it to linger there longer than necessary.

She closed her eyes as his fingers brushed her forehead, the sensation of his touch sending a shiver down her spine. A shaky breath escaped her lips, and his gaze fixated on them.

"Sister Y/N!"

The voice, coming from further along the garden path, called out. Y/N's attention was instantly snapped away much to his dismay as she recognized the voice of one of her fellow novices calling out to her.

With a small gasp, she swiftly turned, breaking eye contact with Father Micah. "I-I have to go!"

Micah easily masked his irritation with a small smile. He watched as she turned towards the voice of her calling out for her.

"You best run along then. Duty calls, it seems."

She looked at him, and for a moment, he thought he saw something flicker in her gaze— doubt, perhaps. But then it was gone, and she was smiling again that made his blood burn.

He watched her go, his smile still firmly in place. He could wait. He would wait.

He knew he could not rush this. Like the flowers he so carefully tended, he needed to nurture her fall, to ensure it was as inevitable as it was irreversible.

The devil was in the details, and he was very good at details.

GOD THIS WAS SO GOOD

All it would take is Micah showing a glimpse of his skin and I’d turn into a victorian man instantly. Like imagine him slowly slipping his outer robe down to reveal a more skin tight outfit that shows his lean body as if to tease you.

It’s like he’s taunting you, he’s putting this delicious delicious food in front of you but refusing to fully open the lid. You just get to see a glimpse of it and try to prevent your mouth from watering.

And he would know exactly what he’s doing too. He knows his beauty and he’s trying to bewitch you into falling for the same sinful feelings he feels towards you. He wants to dirty you as you cry and sob, saying you shouldn’t feel this way, it’s wrong.

But this isn’t Micah’s fault right? All he did was simply take off one layer of clothing, not even showing any skin. It’s your fault that you fail to control yourself in front of him. It’s your sin.

♡ zayne x reader + nsfw links + lots of cowgirl

❄️ • you riled him up all day on his office and now he's gonna make you take everything

❄️ • morning with him

❄️ • brat taming you with spankings and making you count

❄️ • riding him while he's off cam in meeting

❄️ • brats has to be fucked like a slut

❄️ • he really love the flowy skirt he bought for you

❄️ • bondage and letting him do all the work

❄️ • quickie at akso hospital bathroom

❄️ • zayne fucking you infront of the mirror so you could see how hot and perfect your body

❄️ • the chocolate filled alcohol takes over his body and now he can't stop

❄️ • lazy night with your cute panties rubbing him

❄️ • spanking your ass while deep in you

❄️ • pussy inspection with doctor zayne

❄️ • zayne can't help himself be touchy after he saw you wearing a cute blue dress for the party

❄️ • dawnbreaker zayne takes over and also wanna show his love and yearning for you

Caleb

“You’re reckless,” he snaps, pacing, muscle flexing in his jaw. “You don’t think, and I’m left picking up the damn—"

You yank your shirt up. No bra. Nipples tight, tits bouncing slightly from the motion.

He stops mid-sentence. Blinks. Hard.

“…The fuck are you doing?”

You just shrug. Innocent. Quiet.

His eyes darken, and in two steps, he’s on you—hand gripping your throat lightly, eyes burning.

“You think that’s funny? Flashing me mid-fight?” he growls, dragging you back until your hips hit the kitchen counter. “You think I won’t fuck you right here, bare, and cum all over those tits like the filthy girl you’re acting like?”

He doesn’t wait for permission. Pulls his cock free and shoves into you raw, the stretch making you cry out as he fucks you like the fight never happened—like he’s going to teach your body a lesson you’ll never forget.

Rafayel

“You always do this—deflect with sex. I’m not stupid, sweetheart, and I’m not in the mood—”

You tug your top down in one smooth move. Nipples bare. Chest rising.

He stares.

“...You’re evil.”

And then he moves—pulls you into the wall, kisses you like he’s angry, and drops to his knees.

“Guess I’ll put that mouth of yours to better use,” he growls, unzipping and tapping his cock against your lips. “Open up, since you’re so eager to shut me up.”

You moan around him, drooling as he fucks your mouth deep, barely giving you a second to breathe.

“You started this,” he pants. “You end it. With cum down your throat.”

Sylus

“You think just because you’re hot you can flash your tits and win every fight—”

You do it. Shirt up. Full view. A deliberate, slow pull.

He stops cold.

Smirks.

“Oh, fuck, baby… you’re done for.”

He’s unzipping while you’re still smiling—shoving you against the wall, one hand twisting in your hair, the other pushing his cock against your entrance.

“No teasing now,” he rasps. “You wanted attention, you’re getting it. And I’m not stopping ‘til I cum so deep inside you, you feel me for days.”

And he means it. He fucks you rough, hand on your throat, slapping your ass, ruining your body like he’s punishing you for being so fucking sexy.

Zayne

“This isn’t healthy communication,” he’s saying, arms crossed, trying to reason with you.

You lift your shirt.

He blinks. Swears under his breath.

Looks away. Looks back.

“…You little brat,” he murmurs.

He hauls you onto the couch, lays you down, and pulls your shorts off so fast they rip.

“You know I can’t resist you when you do that.”

He starts slow—but the second he’s inside you and you moan his name like you need it, all that calm control? Gone. He fucks you into the cushions, whispering, “Still think flashing me mid-fight’s a good idea?”

You nod, brainless.

“Thought so.”

Xavier

You’re losing the argument. Fast. His voice is cold, flat, and every point he makes is too fucking logical.

So you throw your shirt up. Just like that.

He freezes. Blinks. Takes a long breath.

“...Is this your strategy now?”

You nod. Bite your lip.

He steps forward, unbuttons your pants without a word, and slides his hand between your legs.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters. “You like being punished for being difficult.”

He lifts you onto the table, pushes in without prep, without pause, and fucks you silently—deep and punishing, slow enough to be cruel.

No teasing. Just correction. Ownership.

“You win,” you whisper breathlessly.

Micah is out in the yard, tending to the garden. He loves that garden. It reminded me the first time I had met him, back when I was still a novitiate, he told me it was important to grow things, to nurture life. I wonder sometimes if that’s what he thinks he's doing with me. Nurturing me. But plants don't have a choice where they grow, do they? They’re just put somewhere, and they either thrive or wither.

When he moved us to this town, he said it was for us. For our new family. He said it was to keep us safe, to give us a fresh start. I wanted to believe him. I tried to believe him. I think I even did, for a while. I used to tell myself that this was God’s plan, that this was my path, even if it wasn't the one I had chosen. Maybe it still is. But God seems distant now, like He stayed behind when we left.

I run a hand over my stomach, feeling the faint fluttering of life inside me.

Our child.

The house was large, larger than necessary for the two of us— three, once the baby is born. There were rooms I hadn’t stepped into for days. Micah had insisted that I rest, that I focus on the baby. Don’t tire yourself, dear, he would say, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I had tried, in the beginning, to insist that I could go out on my own, that I could walk the streets without his constant watch. But each attempt was met with that close-eyed smile, the same one he wore when locking the door each morning.

What if something happened to you? he would ask, as though I were a child who couldn’t understand the dangers of the world. And then he would bring me gifts— books, flowers, anything to keep me content. See how much I love you? the gifts seemed to say. See how well I take care of you?

It's like he’s keeping score, like every smile I give him is another point in his favor.

There was no one to talk to. Only Micah, and the walls of this house, and the life growing inside me.

The prayers that once came so easily to my lips were gone, replaced by whispers of doubt and fear. Did God still hear me, here in this place so far from His light?

AAAAAAAAA IT WAS SO GOOD AGAIN!!!

If anyone wants to read what they wrote about Micah and reader meeting for the first time before!

Yeah I think the current cast does a good job at showing how my interests work.

I'm not too dominant but I love pathetic guys who will cry at me feet, begging me to do things to them and guys who are just too stupidly in love for their own good you're the only thing in their heads.

But I also love a guy who will chain me up instead. A guy who'll find my deepest secrets and say either I marry him or he ruins my life.

what if the MC got pregnant from micah and doesn't know what to do with the child? and what if Micah finds out?( I mean it's not good for a nun to be pregnant with a priest child right?)

and honestly I don't ask anything in tumblr and it's really embarrassing for me to ask something like this 😭😭😭

anyway I loveeee all of your characters and I read all of the information of them but there isn't so much from micah so I needed to ask everything I need to know lol XD

(my english is not very good so I'm sorry if there was a mistake in my sentence or there was really weird typo )

I love you take care of yourself!

Surprisingly enough I think that would be exactly what Micah is after. Not impregnating you perse but completely and utterly ruining your career and plan in life.

Micah wants to dirty you, he wants to take away everything you stand for and completely shackle you. He wants you to belong to him with no hopes of escape.

He was planning to do this by taking away your virginity and purity. That way he can both ruin your job and make you his. You don't have to cry, it's alright. Micah will take great care of you. It's hopeless to try telling someone about this, why would they believe you? You're just a nun in training and Micah is the most well known priest in town. But everything is alright, even if you're completely broken beyond repair Micah can always rebuild you.

Getting you pregnant wouldn't be a part of his plans. He was planning to just dirty you a bit, but he doesn't dislike this. It's a bit more extreme than he intended but it also gets the job done. You can never become an actual nun now and you also can't get away from Micah, you would be shunned for being a single mom if you did so.

Micah would probably have to stop being a priest as well. He's not particularly sad about it, he didn't exactly start this job out of passion. He was basically groomed into it. He also has no interest in keeping you behind the curtains while he continues his life. He's planning to properly take care of both you and the child. He's sure he can be a spectacular husband for you, and you would be a lovely wife.