#evil malicious grin

[the-rookinator-3000]

oh, gary!

theyre kiiinda weird idk

[lotus-pear]

doing a social experiment where i am introducing my friend to bungou stray dogs solely through knkdz content/official art and portraying kunikida and dazai as the "main" implied relationship in bsd. no skk, she does not know chuuya, i have not mentioned chuuya, and she will not meet chuuya until episode nine. this is solely for the purpose of seeing whether or not new bsd fans' pyscholgies are skewed bc of skk or whether they start the show solely for them. after she meets chuuya i'll ask her which pairing she prefers more

[eldritchamy]

me: I need to go to bed

the evil gremlin that lives in my brain: you need to research medical terminology so you can make up scientifically plausible words for magical injuries and illnesses.

the evil gremlin that lives in my brain: and you have to do it RIGHT NOW. or else.

[freakxwannaxbe]

There is only so much a creator can do when creating for adults, which both of Viv's shows are explicitly meant for.

It's not the creators fault when a minor clicks past all the warnings put before engaging, ignoring all "this is meant for an 18+ audience" signs

At that point, once someone goes past all and every warning given, it's their own responsibility. The creator told them, warned them, and they still went in. The creator shouldn't adjust their own content and vision, which they explicitly said is for mature audiences, in order to "baby proof" for safety of the intruding audience. She is marketing for an adult audience. That's who her content is meant for.

I've constantly seen the sentiment of "adults watching cartoons meant for a younger audience should be aware they're guests in the space and not take over and make it weird", and honestly, this should go both ways.

Minors are intruding on a piece of media not meant for them, and they should not take over and make it weird for the intended audience, aka the adults. This fandom is very firmly not their space.

The Alastor delusion on tiktok is actually bewildering, like this comment on a video about how sweet and fatherly Alastor is to Charlie

Oh yeah?

This guy?

This guy right here? He's the one singing about guiding her with pure intentions???

Oh this is the face of a man with no nefarious intent to you? An honest, well meaning, all around swell fella??? This is your non-manipulative guy??????

[ohodie]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[ticklygiggles]

Kitten | Sylus x fem!reader [n$fw]

A/N: Wonderful PPY ( @ppystkposts ) and I decided to do a little exchange thingy 🤭❤️ she asked for this fic with Sylus~ I hope it meets your expectations, love! ❤️

Disclaimer: he's probably a bit ooc, but after recent events I can only see him like a softie 😩

Summary: Sylus is... frustrated.

Words: 5k (is this my longest fic????)

Monday

Waking up to the intoxicating scent of your neck had become Sylus's new normal. He'd grown irritable on mornings without you by his side, but today, you were snuggled up against his chest, nesting yourself in his arms, and your presence was a warm comfort that made his heart skip a beat… but you were cutting off circulation to his arm. 

Sylus tried to adjust himself to relieve the tingling sensation that spread from his fingertips to his shoulder, but no matter how he moved, he couldn't free his arm.

“Kitten,” he whined, his voice husky from sleep. “Kitten, move your big head, please.” He tried pushing your forehead with a single finger, but you simply whined in your sleep and tightened your hold around his waist, nuzzling more into his bare chest.

He groaned, tilting his head back. That was it. He was definitely gonna lose his arm. 

“Sweetie, move!” He tried again, his eyes catching a glimpse of your bare waist and a smirk quickly pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

The warm tips of his fingers brushed across your soft skin, drawing little zigzags and circles across your side, from your hip all the way up to your ribs. A soft chuckle escaped his lips when he saw the goosebumps covering the path his fingers followed, chasing after them as you squirmed and pressed more into him. 

A deep, malicious chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Does that tickle?” He asks, teasing.

“No. It feels nice~,” you answered, smiling as you snuggled closer to him.

Sylus widened his eyes. “Wait- were you awake? Move your head!” 

Your giggles made his heart dance funnily as you finally lifted your huge head, the blood flowing again, making him wince in pain.

Tuesday

As much as he wanted to be attached to your side 24/7, he still had work to do. In his office, while you were carelessly playing on your phone on his couch as if you owned the place, he pretended to work, but in reality he looked at you with adoration. Following the curves of your body with his ruby eyes and licking his lips when he looked at your face... your irresistible lips that- 

“Caw!” 

His eyebrow twitched in exasperation as that damn bird fluttered right in front of his face. 

“Mephisto,” he nearly growled. “What on earth do you- huh?” 

Something falling slowly from Mephisto's beak caught his attention as the crow flew to sit on your shoulder. He blinked and took what Mephisto had left as a gift: a red feather. Sylus frowned, where the hell had Mephisto gotten this from? 

He sighed, but didn't think much of it as he fiddled with the feather between his fingers. The touch was soft. The feather was a little stiff, but when it ran against his skin he felt a very pleasant tickle. 

Suddenly, an idea came to his mind and an evil smile spread across his lips. Sylus chuckled and stood up from his chair, heading to the leather couch where you were still playing comfortably, stroking Mephisto's beak without paying much attention. 

Sylus dropped his weight beside you, gently placing your bare feet on his lap.

“Are you done?” You asked with your nose almost glued to the screen as your thumbs tapped all over it.

Sylus hummed, his hands moving to grab one of your feet, giving it a tight squeeze before pressing his thumbs against your sole, massaging it. “I'm taking a break.” 

You hummed, barely paying him any attention, just as he expected. Smirking to himself, Sylus pulled out the red feather; he twirled it between his fingers momentarily before the tip gently swept under your toes. 

He looked over at you and you were looking back at him over the edge of your phone, he grinned. 

“What do you have there?” You asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“Mephisto gave me a feather, do you like it, kitten?” He showed you the plume and you eyed it without interest. 

You shrugged your shoulders, your attention coming back down to your phone. “Yeah, it's pretty, I guess.” 

“Does it tickle?” He asked as the feather tickled your toes again, he frowned when your digits didn't even flinch under the soft touch. 

“Hmm, I think it feels nice. It's not ticklish,” you answered nonchalantly and his frown deepened. 

Sylus kept tickling your toes, under and in-between them. He even swirled the feather around the ball of your foot and the arch and heel, but it was like he was tickling a dead body. No response at all.

He growled in exasperation and got up. “I'll come back to work. Rest is over.”

“Hurry up, Onychinus Leader!” You claimed, not even looking at him. “I'm starting to get hungry!” 

What a spoiled brat.

Wednesday

“Okay, now, Boss, left foot green!” Kieran said cheerfully and Sylus growled deep in his throat as he had to reach all the way over your body to touch the green dot. 

“Sweetie, we could do more interesting things,” he said, his breath making your hair move, close to your ear.

“Miss!” Luke chirped. “Left foot green!” 

“They're not even using the board,” you said, and Sylus rolled his eyes when you ignored him. “We've been moving the same part to the same color for like five rounds now. That's cheating.” 

Sylus huffed. “You're the only one that would trust the twins to be rightful during your silly games. Name one where they didn't cheat,” he dared you and chuckled at your silence. 

“Right hand yellow, Boss!” 

Sylus huffed. This game had stopped being fun by the second round; his leg felt like it was going to cramp and his left hand was shaking, holding all of his weight. He was getting tired of this. 

Just as he was reaching over the yellow dot, his fingers accidentally brushed the skin of your side where your shirt had risen up a bit. He noticed how goosebumps flourished where he just touched and a smirk pulled at his lips. 

He cupped your waist and he chuckled when you jumped. His fingers started to scribble your flesh and he thought he'd hear your sweet, desperate giggle right away, but instead he felt a sharp pain on his side where you had elbowed him. 

“Are you trying to cheat too, Sylus?” You asked and he frowned, tickling your waist with more purpose, but you didn't even flinch. 

“Boss, tickling is not fair! You're gonna get a penalty!” Luke said and both twins started to giggle. 

Giving up in his attempt to tickle you, again, he sighed and reached over the yellow dot, but he had tired his other hand and his arm bent, making him fall over you with a loud thud. 

“Ack! I'm being crushed!” You cried while the twins laughed their heads off. 

“Good,” Sylus said, holding some of his weight with his arms. ��Maybe this way you'll stop making me play stupid games.”

“Sylus! Get off! You're heavy!”

Thursday 

What was going on? Why didn't you laugh whenever he tickled you? Were you trying to hold back? Were you embarrassed of your laughter? No, that's not it, you certainly don't hold yourself back when you cry of laughter watching funny videos on your phone. 

Then what- 

“Sylus!” He was brought back to reality by your voice, looking up from the paper in his hands, his eyes quickly found you. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he watched you with both arms raised above your head trying to reach a book, dancing on your tiptoes.

He chuckled and lazily got up from his chair and only when he was right behind you, he realized your vulnerable position and a side smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

He flexed his fingers and then brought them under your arms. He wiggled his fingertips into your warm skin, almost viciously, so sure he'd have you laughing your head off in seconds, but soon realized he was wrong. Again.

“What on earth are you doing, Sylus? I'm trying to get that book! Help me, please!” You said, still stretching as best as you could. 

Sylus let out a sigh and he easily grabbed the book and gave it to you. 

“Whao, thank you, Sylus!” 

Well, it was worth it to see that sweet smile as you walked away with it. 

Friday

Okay, this was simply stupid. Absurd. Ridiculous.

What was he doing wrong? Why weren't you cackling your beautiful head off when he tickled you? Was he being too rough? He tickled you with a feather, didn't he? 

Well, he really shouldn't be surprised, he wasn't ticklish himself, but it was simply impossible you weren't ticklish somewhere, wasn't it? 

No. He was having none of that. 

He left everything he was doing, (fixing poor Mephisto), and rushed with long strides towards the bedroom. 

The darkness outside seemed to penetrate the room from the floor-to-ceiling window, the walls absorbing the darkness that was extinguished a little by the warm light of the lamps and the chimney. Sylus stopped by the doorway, breathless as he saw you lying on the bed. His record player was on and the melody was like a wave gently sliding over the sand. He recognized it immediately: ‘La Mer’ by Claude Debussy.

His gaze fell on you, lying face down right in the center of his huge bed, your legs curled up, heels intertwined and your hands holding your head up while you read. His breath hitched when he noticed you were wearing one of his black shirts. 

Sylus had given you countless pajamas of the highest quality and the softest and freshest of fabrics but you always preferred to wear his shirts. It clearly didn't bother him, on the contrary, it always made his heart skip a beat. 

You finally raised your head and looked at him curiously, tilting your head to the side like a little bird. "Is something wrong, Sylus?" 

He walked over to you, his gaze fixed on the way his shirt clung to your curves, making his heart pound with growing anticipation. He sat beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. 

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he resisted the urge to kiss you as his hands positioned themselves near your hips. You followed his every move, making him feel almost nervous. The soft satin allowed his fingers to slide easily from your hips to just below your arms, and then down, all the way to the back of your knees. 

You shuddered under his touch and his eyes, bright with excitement, looked at you. His mischievous smirk widened when he saw that you were smiling.

“What are you doing?" You asked with a gleam in your eyes that he couldn't quite figure out what it meant. 

“I'm tickling you,” he said as a matter of fact, wiggling his fingers against your waist and you giggled, but he knew it wasn't because it tickled. 

“Ah, that you're doing, hmm?” He watched you rise up onto your knees and turn to face him, your hands resting on his shoulders, your beautiful face dangerously close to his. 

Sylus instinctively grabbed your waist and squeezed it slightly as he looked into your eyes, you were smiling. Smirking. 

"You've been trying to get a reaction out of me this entire week, haven't you?” You leaned against his ear, your lips brushing against his soft skin. “Do you perhaps have a tickle kink?” Your voice was a whisper, Sylus barely heard you over the melody that began to reach a point of dynamism that somehow made him nervous. 

He let your words sink in and make sense before letting out a humorless chuckle, rolling his eyes. 

“That doesn't exist.” 

You laughed. “Then why do you keep trying to tickle me? Do you like to be in control? Or perhaps… you wanted me to tickle you back~?” You were suddenly on top of him, pinning him to the bed, straddling his hips. His large hands settled on your thighs, just below the hem of his shirt.

Your tongue lightly teased the hole of his ear and he shuddered, his ear flushing as your lips moved down along his sharp jawline. 

“I'm not ticklish,” he answered breathlessly, something swirling inside his chest and wrapping around his heart.

“Hmm~,” Your light hands placed themselves flat against his stomach and he arched his back as you pressed them against his body, sliding them up to his chest. Sylus let out a ragged breath. “Is that so?” 

Sylus' heart was pounding against his ribcage, he wondered if you could feel it under your hands. The melody that filled the room had left that sensation of seeing the waves lazily crashing against the shore. Now it seemed like he was standing in front of a violent sea, huge waves almost engulfing him completely, drowning him into the unknown.

He gulped as your fingertips dragged down against his sides, a gasp escaped his lips and he squirmed, arching his back. You giggled and his eyes, open widely, immediately looked up at you.

“Not ticklish, hmm?” He let out another gasp as your playful touch traveled back up towards his chest, and his hand grabbed yours. 

It was his mistake to always forget how strong his kitty truly was, and in the blink of an eye, his arms were above his head, wrists one over the other as your delicate hand held them tightly, pressing them against the mattress. 

Sylus groaned, his back arching again as another giggle reached your lips. 

“Why are you so frisky, Sylus? Didn't you just say you weren't ticklish?” 

He wasn't. Or so he thought. But right now he felt the effervescent sensation of giggles bubbling in his throat at your gentle touch, making him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“No-!” He said, jerking to the side when your hand sneaked under his sweater, your fingertips teasing his warm skin. 

As the back of your nails lightly scratched the curve of his waist, he managed to free his wrists from your hold and he wrapped his hands around your waist, but heavens, what kind of training did you go through?! In a moment, Sylus found himself pressed back down against the bed, this time face down, with one of his arms held behind his back and your hand spidering up his side.

He bit the inside of cheek, trying to hold back the laughter threatening to escape. He couldn't understand what was going on. Why was he feeling so… sensitive? Your fingers felt like hundreds of feathers caressing his side, making him want to shriek.

As he felt the touch lingering on his hip, a gasp escaped his lips and then laughter– no, embarrassing giggles poured out like a broken faucet. He kicked his legs and tried to catch your hand with his free one, but quickly found it impossible since your tickly hand moved from one spot to the other in a flurry, making him jump and squeal at every sudden touch. 

“S-Stohohop! I'm seheherious!” He laughed, nearly cackling when you repeatedly poked at the back of his ribs. 

You giggled. “Oh? Why should I? You said you weren't ticklish, this certainly doesn't bother you, right?” 

Oh you were so evil. Sylus felt a sudden heat assaulting his cheeks and ears and he hid his face against the soft blankets, muffling his laughter.

“None of that,” you singsang and he was suddenly flipped onto his back again, manhandled until both your hands were under his sweater, which was slowly lifting up with his squirming as both your hands worked around his torso. 

Sylus was laughing. Jerking and squirming and tossing his head side to side as his hands weakly tried to make you stop. It had been a long time since he felt so out of control. Who in their right mind would even think of treating the Leader of Onichynus like that? Who would even think of tickling the most important man in the N109 Zone? There was only one person in the world who would do it and boy was that person enjoying it. 

Sylus opened one of his tightly shut eyes to look at you and he regretted it right away. You were smiling almost viciously, watching all of his reactions with hunger in your eyes, as if you had been waiting for that moment for a long time, and Sylus had no doubt that this was the case.

You probably enjoyed all these recent days of him trying to make you laugh out of your head, and failing like an idiot. Had you planned all of this from the beginning? Were you expecting him to confront you about it? Sylus didn't doubt it. He had dug his own grave this time and yet... he found it strangely exciting. Thrilling. 

“Tch, stop that,” you said, your brow furrowing as he tried to lower his sweater. 

“K-Kihihitten, s-stop- ack!” 

He didn't– he couldn't fight back as you lifted the hem of his sweater over his head, successfully trapping his arms up, leaving him completely exposed. He gulped, looking at you with almost despair. The smirk on your lips only seemed to widen as your eyes marvelled over his body.

“You look so hot right now, Sylus,” you purred. “Especially when you laugh for me~” 

His breath hitched as your fingers hovered over his torso as if you were deciding where to strike next.

“Sweetie,” he mumbled, his voice deep, but laced with something he did not dare to name. “You're playing with fire. You had your fun and it's time for you to s-s-stohop–,” he gasped. “N-Nohoho!” 

“Were you saying something, Sylus?” Sylus arched his back and laughed as your fingers scribbled against his exposed armpits. Fingernails skittering against the sensitive skin, so maddeningly calculated, he couldn't stop himself from bucking. 

He jolted a little when he suddenly heard your giggle into his ear. Your tongue followed the curve of the cartilage and then hooked under his earlobe sucking at it momentarily before your voice filled his ear canal. 

“Tickle, tickle, tickle, Sylus~” 

A deep blush bloomed across Sylus’s cheeks as he laughed uncontrollably. His arms twisted, trying to break free from the imprisonment created by his own sweater. Your fingernails raked up and down his pits, first gently, almost lovingly, but then lethally, making him throw his head back with loud laughter.

He never thought he could laugh that loud, the muscles of his sides and stomach were getting sore already and he felt his eyes acting funny, were they tearing up? 

“Hmm~ Onychinus Leader truly is ticklish~” You said as your tickling fingers finally let his armpits have a break as they moved over his collarbones, teasing the sides of his neck that only made him let out hummy giggles. 

Your fingers traveled across his chest and a startled burst of laughter escaped his lips when your fingertips brushed against his nipples. His eyes widened as he looked up at you.

“Oh?” You grinned just like a little demon.

“No!” He warned, but it was too late. Sylus shrieked, shivering all over as your long nail started to scritch-scratch at his hardening nipples.

Why did that tickle?! His flush deepened as he laughed and squirmed, his legs kicking behind you and his cock– oh goodness. 

“Oh?” You purred again and Sylus whined, letting out a soft groan when you sat on his hardening dick. “What's this? Someone's enjoying his tickles? I told you you had a tickle kink~” 

“Thahat's n-not ihit!” He really hoped it wasn't it.

“So it's not it?” 

Sylus arched his back, laughing as you teased the little buds with the feather-like touch of your fingertips. He could feel the soft tickle scribbling all around them, but nearly bucked off the bed when you tickled the very top with fluttery fingers. He tried to ignore his own moans escaping between laughter and also your mischievous giggle that made his stomach do somersaults. 

“Stohohop nohohow!” He laughed, little tears of laughter clinging to his long lashes. 

“Hmm, already? I'm just starting though…” 

“Nohoho!” Sylus squealed like a pig when you traced his ribs, staring from the lowest to the highest and back down and then back up. 

His skin covered in goosebumps and he let out a vibrant cackle as your fingers spidered down to his stomach. His eyes widened and he sucked on his belly, shaking his head. 

“Aha! So this is your weak spot? How adorable of you, Mr. Sylus.” 

Sylus nearly laughed in hysterics as you formed two claws with your hands and let all your fingers poke him around his tummy repeatedly. 

“N-Nohoho! AHAHAHA! S-Sweehehetie! NOHOT THEHERE!” 

Scribbling on the sides of his belly, tracing his abs, clawing at the middle of his stomach; tracing the rim of his belly button and then wiggling your finger inside it– Sylus was losing his mind. 

He cackled loudly, squirming all around and about, begging for mercy as his voice started to get hoarse from laughing so hard. 

He was nearly double your size, he could easily pick you up with one single arm, and yet, he was laughing desperately, hysterically, as your fingers tickled his stomach as if your life depended on it. No matter what you did, he couldn't get used to the maddening sensation and his ticklishness only seemed to increase the more you pursue his weak spots, like his lower stomach. 

“OKAHAHAY! OKAY!” He cried, tilting his head back and tossing it from side to side. “AHAHANYWHERE BUT THEHEHERE!” 

“Fuck, Sylus.”

He wasn't sure you actually said that– he could barely hear anything besides his own hysteria, but his cock twitched inside his pants for some reason, as if he wasn't dying of laughter. As if he didn't only fell more hopeless and helpless as you kept tickling his damn stomach. 

“Our poor Sylus has a ticklish tummy?” And that damn teasing, he couldn't stand it! “Poor little Onychinus Leader. What would people say if they new only a few tickles to his belly were enough to have him begging for mercy~” 

You were the devil, he was sure of it. He was dating the devil himself and this devil had found her favorite diversion. 

“You're doing so well, though,” you continued, your nails tickling his lower tummy. “Taking your tickles so well, doesn't it feel so good? Hmm?”

“PLEHEHEASE!” He begged breathlessly, his laughter fading away every now and then, simply leaving him shaking silently. “KIHIHITTEN! PLEHEHEASE!” 

“Please what?” You said, your fingers finding a rhythm poking and scribbling around his lower stomach that really had him howling in hysteria. “Tickle you more or… tickle you less?” 

“Less,” he babbled as tears fell down the sides of his face and a bit of spit escaped from the corner of his mouth. 

He was a complete mess. Flushed in the face and pathetically hard as he finally laughed in complete silence when your attention gravitated back to his belly button. 

“Oh? Are you laughing yourself silly, Sylus?” He nodded, what else could he do? “Oh poor thing, does it tickle too much?” Another weak nod and a terrible loud snort from his nose that had you giggling. “Should I give you a break?” Yes please. Please. Please. 

“Ah!” He finally was able to inhale enough air as your fingers stopped their torture. He collapsed on the bed, gasping for air as his heart thundered against his ribs and he let out residual laughter. 

“Y-you're the worst, s-sweetie,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Hmm? Am I really?” You asked with a sweet, sultry voice that made him whimper. “Because–”

“Nghh!” 

“– this little friend of yours seems to really enjoy the attention,” you said, your finger teasingly tracing the outline of his hard cock and Sylus moaned, jerking his hips.

“S-Stohop… I c-can't take it a-anymore,” he begged, his hips humping slightly and you laughed. 

“Liar,” you said and your deft fingers unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants in a flash. You tugged them down along with his underwear, freeing his bouncing cock and gathering his clothes by his ankles. 

Sylus watched you place yourself back between his legs, his big thighs squeezing around your waist as you caressed them gently, drawing little figures with your fingers. 

He couldn't lie, he was afraid. He didn't know– he had no idea you were like this. He didn't know how ruthless you could be. Always smiling at him with your sweet smile and laughing at him when he started singing. He had no idea that you had a dark side. 

He flinched as your fingers lightly moved towards his cock, his body tensed in anticipation, mouth open, letting out ragged breaths. 

“You want to cum?” You asked and your smirk made him shiver. 

He shook his head. “N-No- hah,” he gasped when he saw your eyes darkening. “Y-Yes…” 

“Too late,” you said and you wrapped one hand around his cock. “I'll do exactly what you asked~”

Sylus's cock throbbed and jerked as he felt your soft hand wrap around his thick, hard shaft. Your fingers barely met around his girth, and he had to grit his teeth against the urge to buck his hips up into your touch.

“F-Fuck! Ngh!” Your hand started to stroke his hard shaft, steadily but rhythmically, finding a pace that had him groaning as your hand squeezed his cock just right and your thumb brushed against the sensitive head of his dick, smearing the precum leaking from the tip. 

Sylus huffed, sighed and moaned as pleasure started to build up in his lower belly. He squirmed slightly, his arms still fighting against his own sweater. 

“Does that feel so good, Sylus?” You purred and Sylus widened his eyes when he felt your warm, humid breath against the tip of his cock. He looked down to see your lips were mere inches away from the crown of his dick. 

“Nnghh, please k-kitten,” he cried, jerking his hips to fuck himself up into your hand. “D-Don’t…” 

“Don't tell me what to do,” you warned and Sylus nearly saw stars when your tongue dragged over the swollen head of his cock. 

He tilted his head back and moaned deeply as you lapped all his precum, the taste of his arousal exploding in your mouth. Sylus's stomach tensed and his hips thrust at the rhythm of your licking and the pumping of your hand. 

“A-Ah, kitten,” he gasped, circling his hips. “W-Wait, pl-please.”

“Do not tell me what to do,” you repeated and closed your mouth around the head of his cock. Sylus’ moan was almost primal as you suck softly at the tip, as you would a lollipop. 

His thighs squeezed your body and he cried with pleasure when your tongue flickered against the slit. Sweet shudders of pleasure made his limbs and insides tremble and shake. His breathing quickened and his body started to tense with the eminence of his release. 

“Haah! Ah! N-Ngh! K-Kihitten! I'm-” 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you said, stopping just as he was teetering over the edge, and Sylus whined. “I forgot you said you didn't want to cum.”

Oh you truly were so evil. 

“Kitten, I fucking swear, why are you- haah! AHAHAHA!” 

Sylus shrieked as your fingers scribbled and wiggled against the sweet spot in the inner part of his thighs. Your fingers latched to that weak muscle near his groin that had him arching his spine and throwing his head back. 

His strong legs squeezed you and you giggled, tickling him faster. 

“STAHAHAP!” He cackled, his hips jerking as he foolishly kept trying to reach his ruined orgasm, but it was all useless, he couldn't even concentrate because of the damn tickles to his thighs. 

He screamed your name, trying to sound intimidating. “Fuhuhucking s-stohohop!” He gritted his teeth, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing him laughing any more, but a quick scribble to the middle of his stomach was enough to have him nearly in stitches. 

For how long have you been doing this? He certainly felt it had been ages, millennia of insane, hysterical laughter. When he thought there was no more laughter left in him, your fingers would move in a certain way in a place no one had ever touched before and he would realize, much to his horror, that he could still laugh, even harder.

“Does it tickle, Sylus?” You teased as he was sent into another hysterical fit of silent laughter as your fingers abused that muscle in his inner thighs. “You're loving it, right? Otherwise why would you be so hard? It's a shame you don't want to cum, I bet that'd be wonderful, don't you think?” 

Shut up! Please, stop! Don't fucking touch me! He wanted to scream, but deep inside he knew it was hypocritical of him to do so. He could easily get you off of him with his Evol, but he fooled himself into thinking he couldn't concentrate because of the tickling. He could unload the sweater around his arms, but he brainwashed himself, saying it was his favorite sweater. 

He was simply taking it, laughing and getting hard over it. 

“I told you you have a tickle kink~,” you purred and that was enough for Sylus. 

Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck!

Sylus's eyes rolled inside his skull and his head tilted back with a hoarse cry as his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. His cock jerked and throbbed violently into the air, nothing around it as he pumped thick ropes of hot and sticky cum. 

Sylus groaned, his hips rocking as he rode his orgasm and the aftershocks rushed up his body. He sobbed, teary eyes opening to look at you and he whimpered when he saw your big shit-eating smirk. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, kitten?” You asked, one of your hands back to his inner thighs and the other to his stomach to start tickling him again.

This tickling was indescribable, nothing like what he felt before… he was lost in a tickle subspace and you were the only one that could possibly bring him back– the same person that threw him into it with a smirk and sweet giggles bubbling past your lips. 

What had he gotten himself into? 

[animeyanderelover]

Uhm this is my second request. Can I request a yandere satoru, suguru, sukuna, choso, toji and yuta x a female sorcerer eho is equal on their power strength. Thats all thank you.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive relationship, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, paranoia, manipulation

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

S/o is equally as strong as them

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾Ah yes, the babysitter. In some aspects Sukuna must say that you are doing a great job amusing him. Though it is obvious that you don’t share that pleasure. If you had the choice, you wouldn’t even be here right now as you have quit this profession a few years ago for reasons you have disclosed for everyone. It’s only due to a lot of pressure from the higher-ups and Gojo’s persistent nature that you reluctantly agree to assist in keeping an eye on Yuji and the curse sealed within him. Rumors swarm around everywhere, that you’re supposed to be on equal footing with Gojo and Sukuna, one of the strongest of today. Sukuna doesn’t believe that. Yes, he wants you to be strong so that he can enjoy the unavoidable fight to his fullest but he’s confident that at the end of the day he will still claim victory whilst standing over your bloody corpse. Still, he must admit that he enjoys the alive you quite a lot as well. It’s quite amusing to observe just how different you are to Gojo. Quiet, polite yet still bold enough to lecture him for his evil deeds. He finds it rather endearing, a malicious grin on his face as you talk to him as if you believe that he possesses a heart.

🗾It’s that pathetic display of empathy that has influenced his perception, a mistake during the Shibuya incident. As Gojo is sealed and Sukuna awakes, he challenges and kills Jogo and as Mahoraga attacks him, he feels truly alive. In that moment he forgets about you only for you to jump in and join the fight, trying to minimise the incomprehensible damage. During that fight Sukuna witnesses for the first time a different side to you, foolish kind you. An unwavering determination, a strength as deep and suffocating as the ocean. He’s taken as he watches you, fights against you and with you, even protects you against some of Mahoraga’s attacks. As euphoria and infatuated adrenaline pump through his veins, he finds himself wishing to continue this fight yet he knows that as of now he still isn’t strong enough. No, you deserve to be defeated as soon as he has achieved his strongest form once more. However, as he retreats into Yuji’s mind once more, taking in your bloody yet still standing form, he can’t help but have a change of heart. After all who would be more worthy of the strongest man than you, the strongest woman?

Fushiguro Toji

🪱The moment both you lock eyes in the little bar, you know that there is something about the other that’s different, powerful. Others might shudder in the face of such strength yet both of you are rather fascinated with the other. To Toji it truly doesn’t matter that you are a sorcerer and to you it doesn’t seem to matter that he kills even those who belong to your kind. He’s in for the money and you’re in because you’re bored, a constellation that works just fine for the both of you. Neither one of you meddles with the other’s business, neither one of you has serious feelings. At least until Toji breaks that agreement. The moment he becomes aware of his own possessiveness, he immediately seeks to stake his claim over you. Only that you despise having your freedom threatened like this. There’s no hesitation from either side as a fight breaks out as you have no serious attachment to Toji and he is at the stage where he only cares about possessing you and nothing more. Night and day eventually blur together as both of you lose track of time, clashing, attacking and hurting each other until both of you have reached for the first time in your lives your limit.

🪱Never before has Toji met someone who was able to keep up with him mentally as well as physically, only fueling his fixation on you. There’s no denying that he is fundamentally broken and unable to ever be fixed so you seem to be the best match as Toji needs someone who doesn’t falter nor break easily. A game of the greedy wolf and the sly cat starts from that day on as Toji actively hunts you down all whilst you skillfully escape him, tease him. For you this is a game, a sparking thrill that is just needed in your mundane life. For Toji it is initially too though he has the concrete goal to possess you by the end of it. As genuine feelings of infatuation strike his heart unexpectedly, he finds himself rethinking everything he thought to believe about the situation both him and you are in. He doesn’t desire just the simple thrill anymore. No, he desires something deeper, as ridiculous as that may sound coming from his lips. Now he just needs to convince you even though you are not the type to commit. However, Toji knows that you love playing with fire, are even willing to fuel it until you too get burned. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Something new and exciting?

Gojo Satoru

🩵When Gojo initially receives the news that a sorcerer from abroad is about to be transferred to Tokyo because it is believed that she is on his level, he doubts that statement. Not necessarily because he is overly arrogant but because from the very first breath he took, people were after his life all out of fear that he would grow up and master his abilities. Gojo has gone through a lot to achieve his powers, is confident in his position as the strongest sorcerer which is why he wonders just what kind of skills you must possess for others to even speculate that you might just be as powerful as he is. Yet when you arrive in his city, he doesn’t confront you about it. After all he knows that the higher-ups are hoping to figure out who between the two of you is more powerful and he won’t give them that pleasure. Instead he does everything to not even have you talk about any sorcerer-related stuff. No, he focuses on giving you a tour through the school, helps you with your train tickets and your bank account and is more than just eager to introduce you to his cuisine. Both of you spend a ton of time together and somehow both of you just connect immediately. Your experiences align.

🩵Gojo always used to be lonely. Perhaps that is just the way it is, standing at the top as the strongest. But now that has changed. Now you are also there, relating, struggling and supporting. You are able to share your insecurities with him and he is able to do the same. You appreciate Gojo for that and he appreciates you too. However, you underestimate just how severely attached Satoru grows to be. He grows insanely protective though not as much in a physical sense but in an emotional one. You’ve revealed your heart, so scarred and fragile from the weight of expectations and the sacrifices that were made for you to be who you are. There’s enough suffering you have gone through. No more now that he’s here. Relax instead, allow yourself to be protected by him instead of always neglecting your own wellbeing for the sake of others. His delusions get the better of him and that quickly. He’s made for you, you’re made for him. After all only the one labeled the strongest could understand the loss and loneliness that comes with such a title. And Satoru will do everything in his power to have you see this the same way as he does.

Geto Suguru

🗻Shunned, isolated, feared. Your past is the summary of why Suguru believes that non-sorcerers have to be murdered. After all it is unfair that someone as gifted and beautiful as you had to suffer so much only because you were special. Hearing about your tragic life, Geto immediately holds his hand out to you and offers you to join his plans. Only for you to reject that offer without a moment of hesitation. Not because you are tied to any duty but instead because you believe him of all people to commit acts of great injustice. Non-sorcerers do not deserve the fate he plans to bestow upon them. It is this mindset of yours that you possess despite the humiliation and pain you went through because of them that rattles Suguru’s mind more than anything. The idea that you, a woman with such shining talents and skills, see any worth in monkeys aggravates something deep within his heart. No words could express the disbelief and shock as you turn your back on him, spit on his kindness and discard him for the very people who treated you like a wild animal. He believes it to be a weakness in the beginning as he doesn’t let loose, convinced that you will be a great ally for his goal.

🗻Despite your firm decision to not join him, you still look after the two girls, treating them with kindness as you sympathise with their past. That only agitates Suguru more, the fact that you feel for them yet refuse to destroy the very root of their and your suffering. A walking, talking contradiction who only threatens to drive him mad. Something that indeed becomes true as dark feelings start to develop. Suguru refuses to accept that you truly are on the side of the monkeys and not on his side, the right side. It’s that denial that gives way for his excuses to bloom into delusions as he would accept anything but the blunt truth that you believe monkeys to be worth leaving alive. Instead he conjures up other explanations. A lack of love you felt as a child which has made you desperate for the monkey’s approval. Repressed trauma that holds you back from unleashing your full potential and your freedom. Brainwashing that you were put through as a child and that still has a hold on you today. Those excuses allow him to discredit your truth, allow him to believe that you are in need of his help. And he will give it to you even though you may not believe that you need it.

Kamo Choso

🩸Whenever Choso is within your vicinity, he is a mess. Rising body temperature, heart palpatations, sweaty palms and a flushed face. If he wouldn't know any better, he would believe himself to be sick. That, however, is impossible as he is a cursed womb. That and the fact that the sole trigger for those symptoms is always you. No, there has to be another explanation yet it takes Choso half an eternity until he has finally realised what he is feeling. Still, even though he now knows what he is feeling, he still doesn't know how to continue from here on out. It's only made so much worse because you are actually a senior of his younger brother who takes on the role of a mentor after so many other sorcerer lost their lives in Shibuya. You're skilled and confident, carry yourself with so much ease wherease Choso's brain short-circuits as soon as you talk to him. It is embarrassing that technically he is so much older than you yet has only recently experienced life due to being offered a vessel as a body. He should win you over, do something to show you how much he loves you yet he lacks the social etiquette to do so. There is only one way Choso knows how to show his care and that is by protecting his loved ones.

🩸​Yet you are breaking his heart as you make it apparent that you have no urgent need to rely on him as your protector. For Choso you are almost too independent, able to fight for yourself and protect yourself without his help. His entire existence is connected to the very concept of being the strong one who his loved ones can rely on but with you that purpose is mercilessly shattered and worst of all is that you are unaware of his inner turmoil and fear. Over and over again he witnesses how you risk your life by fighting against others which either ends with him jumping in to help you as his paranoia doesn't allow him to stay still or with him having an existential crisis when you manage to defeat them yourself, robbing him of his role. It feels wrong, so terribly wrong as all you want him to do is stay back and look after his own back. Almost as if trying to compensate for the lack of protection that Choso can do on the battlefield, he starts weasling his way into other aspects of your life and tries to help you there even if he has no idea what he is even supposed to do. Honestly, at times he is more of a hindrance than of help but don't tell him that. He's already inconsolable enough.

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​Yuta and you make acquaintance after disaster struck Shibuya and every person involved in that assault, non-sorcerers and sorcerers alike. When it is initially believed that Yuta is coming after Yuji you vow to protect your kohei from the student Gojo so confidently believed in. After all who else is there right now who could stop him and his curse Rika? You're unaware of Yuta's true intentions so the first meeting between the two of you quickly escalates into a fight all on your account. It certainly is a way to leave a first impression as Rika and Yuta clash with you who is able to fend them off. You're fully prepared for a long fight but Yuta luckily manages to gain your attention and signal his true intentions. Immediately he expresses admiration though for your loyalty, will to protect Yuji who is at heart innocent as well as for your impressive strength he was not aware of. It's surprising that he hasn't heard of you before. As soon as you know that Yuta is on your side, you partner up with him which makes for a very lethal combination as both of you are bright young talents with immense amounts of strength and skills. It's difficult though, with Gojo gone and Sukuna slowly returning.

💍​Perhaps that is why both of you bond much faster than under normal circumstances as both of you fight many battles together. You do not fear Rika like many others do and by extension you are less wary of Yuta himself and considering his past, that means quite a lot to him. Initially it seems to be a gradual change until there is this one sudden switch that happens in the heat of a battle where all of the weight of his premature obsession all of the sudden comes crashing down on him. Yuta panics, Rika senses it and a bloodbath follows that even manages to mortify you slightly. From that day on everything changes. Yuta is much more anxious to leave you alone on a battlefield, prefers to cling to you and block any attack that comes your way which serves as an insult to you. After all he should know best what you are capable of. Rika doesn't appreciate your tone yet you don't back down either, the atmosphere sometimes awfully hostile yet Yuta always manages to stop it. Deep down he is ashamed as he knows that you of all people he shouldn't doubt but all of that is irrelevant in the face of the earthquake that is his obsession, rattling his very rationality into shambles.

[nenestansunsthings]

ive literally just started watching vintagebeef today but im fucking obsessed i love this seemingly innocuous fucking freak. i wish he was a more popular creator so i could see 70000 images of him in that fucking salmon business suit lounging threateningly and shooting the viewer a malicious grin in a dark room with a rolled up permit in hand threatening the displeasure of big salmon. i need him. theres something so compelling about his evil little laugh as he unashamedly threatens people and fills iskalls pink house with fish. this is hitting the same ungodly note in me that joe descending unto docs hourglass with the unholy wrath of a lawyer did

[justwinginglife]

I have had this on my mind for a while now. Fem reader was a cruel villain in her previous life and was reincarnated to the Kn8 universe and met Soshiro and well... In love :3

Go crazy my friend.

Forgive me, this could've been a whole ass series, and I was too lazy to make it one LOL. Also I changed up the prompt slightly so that reader has always been in the KN8 universe, just reincarnating through the years.

Of All The Ways To Die

You were dying and they’d cursed you.

The audacity.

For the crime of being a witch, you’d been bound, gagged, and condemned to be burned alive. As the flames devoured your flesh, as the heat ravaged your body, as the smoke filled your lungs, you thought you glimpsed the gates of Hell in your last moments. They were flung open wide for you, and the tortured souls of your past were waiting to claim you, impatient for your penance. If that wasn’t nightmare enough, the Hoshinas had the audacity to send you to your damnation with a final parting gift- they placed a curse on you. 

In this life and the next, in heaven and in hell, in purgatory and in limbo, in the span of every universe that could ever or would ever exist, your soul was cursed to an eternity bound to their clan. There was no world in which you could run or hide, there was only their infinite retribution. 

It was a cruel punishment to be shackled to the souls of your murderers, to have every life you could ever live ended at their hands, but you didn’t intend to go quietly. You intended to make this curse as torturous for them as it was for you. If they were going to sabotage you at every turn, you’d just have to make your death worth it. If they were the protectors of peace, you were the bringer of chaos. And you planned to make such a mess of this world that even a Hoshina couldn’t put it back together. 

If they were the heroes of this never ending saga, you were the perfect villain.

“I’ll see you on the other side of eternity.” 

Your malicious grin was the last thing they saw before the flames enveloped you. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You kept your promise in every life.

Even with no memories of your previous reincarnations, even with no knowledge of this everlasting curse, you left mayhem and madness in your wake. It was almost as though you couldn’t help yourself, as though evil were your second nature. 

And when another Hoshina arrived at your door, when they claimed yet another one of your lives, you found some satisfaction in your death, knowing you’d caused so much devastation as to warrant their intervention. 

As you succumbed to your fate, letting the darkness take hold of you once again, you wondered what trouble you could get up to in the next life. 

You found your answer in the form of the black market. 

In this technologically advanced age you’d now found yourself in, there was no room for witchcraft, for medieval villainy, there was simply give and take. And you took everything.

Before you knew it, you were the ruler over the black market. Every deal that was made, every secret that was whispered, every resource that was extracted, everything was yours to use as you pleased. In the span of a decade, you’d amassed an enormous empire. 

And Soshiro had no idea.

In every life you’d ever lived, one Hoshina or another would always find you at your most heinous, at the peak of your degeneracy. And then your life would end. 

But in this life, as though Fate had grown tired of this game, as though eternity was much too infinite for their liking, you grew up right next door to the Hoshinas. And Soshiro became your best friend.

For a while, his good influence was enough to corral most of your immorality on most days, but no one could help your greed or your ambition or your cunning. 

When he ran off to join the Defense Force, your competing ambitions pulled the two of you apart. You weren’t as pure as he was, you wouldn’t dare waste your energy on such a ridiculous profession; it was a noble one but still ridiculous in your eyes. Meanwhile he couldn’t think of anything better. Though his endless optimism should’ve infuriated you, it only made you love him more. He saw the world for how cruel it was and still chose to hope for better. And some part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he could see the same in you. But the allure of the underworld held more appeal than your one sided love and before you knew it, you were too focused on your schemes to spend time nursing your pining heart. 

When you did meet up with him on the occasion you were both free, he’d always tell you to do something with your life. He’d tell you to join him. He knew how strong you were, how smart you were, how driven you were. But he didn’t know that you’d already used those gifts to force every business and every back alley, every port and every parlor, into submission. Japan was a puppet and you were its master.

But every villain had their weakness, and it became harder and harder to ignore that he was yours. Looking back, you’d always had a soft spot for him. 

When you were kids, someone made fun of Soshiro’s hair and you shaved half their head off in return. 

When you were teens, he caught some teenager stealing from an old lady and when he ran after them to retrieve her purse, like the kind-hearted boy that he was, they punched him in the face. Before he could react, you broke their arm, like the cruel-hearted girl that you were. 

And it didn’t matter how old or young your opponent was- you were undaunted and unwavering in your punishments. Once, a teacher had failed Soshiro due to a personal grudge they’d held against his father, and you took a sledgehammer to their car. When the teacher threatened to involve the authorities, you simply smiled at him and dared him to call the cops, saying that the second you saw a siren, you’d release photos of his infidelity to the entire country of Japan. 

Even now, with all the power that you wielded, you’d use your influence to anonymously send supplies to the Third Division, to send food, to send weapons, to send armor. If you couldn’t be by his side, you could at least support him from afar. He didn’t have to know, he just had to stay safe.

When he messaged you, wanting to meet up again, you felt this was the perfect opportunity to make sure he’d been getting your gifts. You treated him to dinner at your favorite restaurant.

“How’s my favorite little entrepreneur?” He scooped you up in a hug. 

You slightly winced, remembering the lie you’d told him about opening up your own shop to get him to stop trying to convince you to join the Defense Force. You comforted yourself with the thought that, technically, you owned lots of shops. If lots of shops meant the entirety of Japan. You bet you could even buy the JAKDF if you ever felt the desire to. It was a tempting thought now that you were faced with one of their most promising soldiers, and if buying the JAKDF meant more time with him, you’d have to look into it. You’d forgotten how much you missed him. How soft you got when he was around. 

“I’m better now that you’re here.” You sighed into his shoulder.

He laughed. “Buttering me up, huh? Don’t tell me it’s cuz you’re tryna convince me to change jobs again.”

You pouted. “And what if I was?”

He ruffled your hair. “Then you’d have a hell of a time with it, because you know I’m not leaving the Defense Force.”

You crossed your arms and sulked. “You mean the shitty Defense Force that’s making you fight with nothing more than sticks and stones?”

He leaned forward, “Actually, we got this huge shipment the other day of brand new equipment. The very latest in Izumo tech. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that,” He tucked a hair behind your ear, “Would you?”

How was it that you owned thousands of casinos and still couldn’t manage a poker face to save your life?

He laughed, letting you off the hook for now. “Shall we order dinner?”

You grumbled to yourself about him being a tease and then buried your face in the menu. He smiled to himself on his side of the table. 

When you had a couple more drinks in you, he pushed the subject again. “So. It seems you got my text the other day.”

You took another sip from your cup. “Which text? You text me a lot.”

He grinned. “Touche. The one about my suit overheating.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure where he was going with this. “Yeah, I read that. What of it?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh nothing. I’m just assuming that’s why I got a new suit delivered to me the very same day, one that can withstand my combat power for longer periods of time.”

You choked on your drink. “Well that’s convenient, good for you.”

He laughed. “Cmon. How long are we going to keep doing this?”

You cleared your throat. “Doing what?”

He poked your nose. “Pretending like you’re not the one sending me these things.”

You laughed awkwardly. “I’m not so rich that I can get my hands on the latest Izumo tech, Soshiro. You overestimate me.”

“Mmhm. Sure. Okay. Well, if you ever find out who is leaving me all these gifts, thank them for me, yeah?” He finished his food and got up to leave, “And give them a big kiss for me, would you?” He smirked as he walked out the door. 

What?

What did he just say?

Bastard.

“Soshiro! You asshole, you can’t just leave me hanging like that!” You dumped a couple large bills on the table, not even caring that you’d just tipped more than the meal was worth, and you ran after him.

He was laughing to himself down the street when you finally caught up to him. “So I guess business is doing good then?”

You glared at him. “And so maybe it is. What, I’m not allowed to send my best friend presents?”

He smirked. “Ah, so you admit you’re my secret admirer.” He bent down to whisper in your ear, “Or do you just want that kiss that badly?”

Before you could answer (you’re not even sure what you would’ve answered), he pulls you against him and presses his lips to yours. 

After completely devouring all your oxygen, he pulls away and murmurs, “Thanks. For everything.”

You’re so breathless you think you might choke on your own lungs.

When he takes your hand and whispers in your ear, “Now it’s my turn to treat you,” and then leads you to a ballroom that he’d completely bought out just so he could slow dance with you, you think you might cough up the heart that’s beating so rapidly in your chest. 

But of all the ways to die, you’ve decided this is the best way to go- in Soshiro’s arms.

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Silliness V

If you mean Watchdog Ford by @nowimjustastranger, whom is sometimes called "Guard Dog Ford" Those two aren't friends. They just happen to run into each other a statistically impossible amount of times in the multiverse.

Any and all reports that they've saved each other skin at least once, and hang out sometimes are just rumours spread by their mutual ally (ALLY not friend) the Anti-Ford.

If you mean Guard Ford from the AU by @skeptiql... it's their AU, I'm not imposing on it.

If there is a cosmic security guard out there monitoring the Fordverse, considering that all Jerk Ford does in the multiverse is be a total jerk to everyone and cause trouble (and then get banned from dimensions for the two aforementioned reasons), I imagine reactions to him are typically going to be:

He's not heinous, malicious, or evil, he's just a really big jerk for no good reason.

---

Me and @nowimjustastranger are in the process of proper crossover, don't worry.

In the meantime...

Pre-Weirdmageddon:

Jerk Ford: Watch, this is Stanley. Stanley, this is Watchdog Ford and Lee.

Watchdog Ford: ...

Lee: ...

Stan: Well heya pal. It's nice to see Stanford's made more friends! I knew he had it in him to be nice and compassionate.

Jerk Ford: Stanley, I swear to God.

Watchdog Ford:...You're-

Lee: You're tall.

Stan: *looks between Watchdog Ford and Jerk Ford in an exaggerated up-and-down to annoy his brother*

Stan: *to Watchdog Ford* So are you.

Lee: *grinning* Oh, we're going to get along just fine. Let's chat.

---

Watchdog Ford: You... You aren't suffering?

Stan: If you don't call grading two hundred student assignments without assistance suffering, then sure.

Lee: ...nothings wrong?

Stan: Right now, no. I did miss my brother for the thirty years he was gone. It wasn't easy... the townsfolk truly believed I murdered him, and thought that was a good thing. And then acted like I was wrong for missing him.

Lee: So everything went okay for you?

Stan: I don't know what to tell you, pal- excluding not having Stanford in my life for thirty years and the issues that comes with that, things are going fine. If I'm having trouble I can just ask someone for help, and if I have problems emotionally I have friends and family that would lend me an ear or two. Also, I am medicated and seeing a therapist for stuff.

Lee: ...

Meanwhile Jerk Ford is in the corner sipping from his #1 Big Brother mug, and Watchdog Ford gets suspiciously misty eyed.

[Dialogue primarily by @tearosepedall]

---

It's a misconception at that Jerk Ford does not experience empathy (or at least not any for anyone besides his twin brother). This misconception is one of the reasons why The Ford Hate Club is always tripped up by him - they don't understand him. They think he's unfeeling with little to no emotional intelligence.

He has a surprising amount of empathy, you can see in this post he even says that most other Fords do not hate their Stanley, what they really have is resentment.

Jerk Ford just uses that empathy to know how to get under peoples skin and really hurt their feelings. Can't hurt feelings very well if you don't know what they are or how they work!

What he does lack is compassion, as in he doesn't help, support, or uplift people. That's a Stanley thing.

---

Jerk Ford: Your attack misses.

Dipper: Misses?! With my bonuses I had a total of twenty-three to hit!

Jerk Ford: That doesn't even touch the monsters THAC0.

Dipper: THAC0? Great Uncle Ford, 3.5 Edition is over! It's armour class now!

Jerk Ford: I'm the DM, and I rule your attack misses.

Dipper: *flips the battlemap, forgetting that the infinity dice is there*

---

Jerk Ford had such a bad habit of getting engrossed into his research and study that he would overlook things like finances (and showering). Stanley managed the finances between himself and and his brother, and he did send money back to the family, not millions but it was something.

Jerk Ford also had most of the money because he had his grant, and also a few patents, but Jerk Ford only cared about anamolies and terrorizing humanity so money wasn't something he thought about very much as long as their basic needs were being met.

When he lived back in Glass Shard Beach with his family, however...

"We should go graffiti Pines Pawns."

"Hell no, dude."

"What, you scared of Old Man Pines?"

"Forget Old Man Pines, don't know know what his son did to Crampelter? We don't need to be on his sh*t list."

[qtboni]

Heyyy I love your writings so much I wanted to ask if maybe you could write a ghost x reader story with angst to fluff maybe where the reader gets tortured in front of him or gets kidnapped idk

╰﹒ 𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐀 !

PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X Reader

C/W: fem!reader, angst to comfort, violent themes, kidnapped/captivity, restraints, choking/strangling, asphyxiation, death (minor), explicit words, inaccurate spanish dialogues, bit of canon divergence. w/c 3.4k

Ghost could only hear the ringing in his ears as a firm hand connected harshly in his head. "C'mon, pinche pendejo," A woman crouched in her knees infront of him, a snarky smile etched in her face. She looked like a predator waiting for her prey to break, and she had no intention of making it easy for him. "We were protecting a friend in the mountains. Someone attacked us there... Who?"

Valeria. Ghost concluded in his thought.

"Go fuck yourself." He grunted as a reply and averted his gaze elsewhere. It was clear he wasn't interested in giving out any information. His insulting statement made the woman's smirk to drop as an irritated expression took place.

"If I were you," Valeria replied, her thick accent sipping through. She snickered as she taunts him by tilting her head to the side, faking a pity expression. "I'd be careful with my words."

"Why would I, ya lil' fucker." Ghost hissed, his brows furrowing as he glared at her with a menacing expression. He tried to move his tied wrists and legs, but the rope was too tight. His frustrations boiled at the feeling of helplessness, the tight bonds threatening to cut off his circulation.

"Because?" She replied with a deep chuckle, her eyes gleaming with a malicious glint. In one swift motion, she grabbed him by his vest and forced him to look up at her. "I have your pequeña princesa right here." Her words were punctuated by a self-assured smirk, her expression daring him to defy her command. His muscles were tense, his hands curled into fists as he struggled against his bonds, the tight rope digging into his wrists and legs as he tried to break free.

'Princesa?' He thought, his mind racing to make sense of her word. But then it clicked.

You.

Ghost took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure in the face of her teasing. ’She's playing with me,’ He thought as he tried to keep a cool head, but her words and expressions were certainly having an effect on him. There was no way Valeria had caught you. He was sure you left with the team!

"So?" Valeria's voice brought him back to where he was. The woman infront of him smiled widely in a sadistic and disturbing manner, her eyes glinting with evil intent. "Tell me. Ask my question,"

"You're a fuckin' lunatic if you think I'll give up intel," He fought against his rising emotions, thinking to himself. She was just messing with his head for sure. But his heart beat at a frantic rhythm, each pulse hammering against his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. "Don't even fuckin' know what you're on about,"

Disappointed, Valeria clicked her tongue. But it was not out of annoyance, no. There was something sinister beneath her snobbish grin, as if she was toying with Ghost and was enjoying it. A series of sinister chuckling enveloped the dark lit room. He could see from the corner of his eyes that a leather roll was unwrapped in the table situated at the side, revealing a collection of various knives, razor blades, tiny tools that were nonetheless can convey damage to one's body.

"No?" Valeria turned away from him for a moment, locking eyes with one of her minions on her right. "Then, I suppose I have no other choice but have you believe me that I stick to my words, hm?"

"Fuck you," He spits even if his heart tightened with dread, thinking for the absolute worst. She's lying. You can't possibly be here. He watches as the woman turned back to him with the same wicked grin, gaze still piercing him like a dagger. "Sit comfortably, yeah?" She continued, speaking as if her decision was already made. She smirked as her words sunk in at Ghost, the thought of harm coming to someone else sending a chill down his spine. "You'll need it."

"I don't f-"

"Wanna know why, cariño?" She cuts him off with a mock, leaning even closer to him. She didn't give him a chance to reply back as her hands wrapped around his covered jaw, her touch causing the skin under to burn with a mental flare. Then she whispered into his ear, her words a slow and teasing drawl. "I'll torture her up real good, and make you... Well," She paused to consider for a moment, before a slow grin spread across her face. "You'll just have to see for yourself." A dark amusement flickered in her eyes, the thrill of his helplessness evident in her tone.

With a rough pat on his cheek, Valeria stood up, her expression serious and professional. "Tráela En," She ordered the men to her side, who immediately obeyed. With a quick glance back to Ghost, the men piled out of the room with Valeria, their footsteps echoing in the hallway outside.

With the men having left the room, Ghost thought of how he could try to escape the restraints that held him down. He wiggled his arms in an effort to free himself from the ropes, but they held firm. His eyes darted around the room frantically, his brain desperately working to develop a plan for escape.

Ghost tried to wriggle his tied up wrists free, but the ropes stubbornly held tight. He took in a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind in order to develop a strategy that could help him escape. He strained as he worked at loosening the ropes, his muscles straining under the effort, and still the bonds refused to budge. With every attempt to free himself, he was met with increasing levels of exhaustion. Time was his enemy here, the clock ticking steadily away. He continued to strain at the ropes, but still they refused to budge. His skin was growing damp with sweat, his breath heavy and raspy. He had to escape, he had to.

Ghost was too focused on freeing himself, his gaze glued to his bound hands, his thoughts locked in a desperate cycle. His focus on escaping the ropes made it impossible for him to notice Valeria entered, his heart racing as her presence suddenly became apparent.

"I was looking forward to this," a raspy voice purred. He snapped turned his head forward, his eyes snapping towards Valeria's boastful stance and... fuck, it's you. The familiar scarf, covered in dirt and dust. Its little ghost drawing, once vibrant and colorful, was now dull and worn, the image haunting him. Even the sound of the heart keychain strapped to your belt was enough to draw him out of his daze, the item bringing back a flood of memories of you.

This can't be.

—

"Yer fuckin crazy," A rough voice was heard amidst the throbbing pain present in your head as you were haphazardly thrown.

You winced as your body collided with what felt like cold asphalt, and tears of anguish welled up in your eyes. Despite the familiar voice you recognized, your covered vision made it difficult to make out anything. The sedatives forced upon you while in captivity made you dizzy and disoriented. As the sack was removed from your head, the full impact of your surroundings flooded your senses. The voices around you were loud and numerous causing white noise in your ears, their words indecipherable to you as your mind struggled to grasp your current situation.

"Don't fuckin' hurt her!"

A sharp yank on your hair jarred you out of your trance, forcing you to look up from the ground. The sound of your lieutenant calling out your name registered in your mind, forcing you to come back to reality. As your eyes met those of Ghost's frantic eyes behind his mask, your heart raced, your anxiety flaring up once again as you quickly assessed what was happening.

Valeria's grip on your hair grew tighter, a cruel and sadistic grin spreading across her lips as your pained gasp filled her with pleasure. "You were expecting someone else, weren't you?" She said to Ghost, her tone dripping with sarcasm and malice. She leaned in closer, her cruel glare inches from your face as she whispered into your ear with a mocking tone, "Too bad. Que te voy a matar." She chuckled, her breath tickling your ear as you winced in pain.

"Just give it up, Valeria," He gritted his teeth in anger. But she laughed, her voice echoing in the room as she turned to Ghost. She held his gaze for a moment, studying his expression. Then, she turned back to you, a cruel grin spreading across her lips. "Oh, you poor thing," she chuckled, her tone dripping with condescension. She softly carressed your scalp as if creating a faux sense of security. "Is this affecting you," She said to Ghost as she ran a finger down your cheek, the sharp pain of her nail digging into your flesh drawing a quick wince from you. "Or do you have anything else in your mind besides this?"

"Fuckin' leave her out of this." Ghost clenched his jaw, desperately trying not to show any more signs of weakness. He tried to stay composed as Valeria leaned in closer to you, her teasing smile growing bigger with every passing moment. He swore the nerves in his arms were bulging out of tense.

You winced at her touch, but you didn't dare to speak as your jaw locked and your muscles tense as you tried to ignore it. Valeria laughed again, moving a step back so she could face him again. "Oh, but I do love the way she look when she's in pain," she said, her tone playful as she studied your tears streaming down your face. "You really should have told me what I wanted to know." She chuckled, moving closer to you again, her hand moving in a gentle caress along his cheek. "It's okay, little sweetheart," she whispered, her voice full of deceiving sweetness.

She has a cruel glint in her eyes as she studied your expression. Her hand gently moved towards your cheek, then her nails started digging into your skin and you gritted your teeth, trying to hold in the cry of pain that was forming in your throat. "Speak, bitch," She spat on you, eyes narrowed with annoyance. You didn't respond, determined to close your mouth. Whatever this was, you're on your lieutenant's side. "No?"

It was only as Valeria let go of her grip on you that you realized how numb your muscles felt. Your legs felt like they were made of lead as you tried to scurry away, but the effects of the torture had left your body limp. Unable to move, unable to escape, you watched helplessly as Valeria went over to the side and grabbed something, the glinting object catching your eye.

You met Ghost's gaze and saw him return it, the terror evident in your expression as he silently implored you to try harder to escape. As if you were the one who has their limbs tied up. "How amusing," Valeria came up between you both, playfully swaying the sharp material in her hands. "It seems like our little friend is too strong-willed for our torture to affect her."

You weren't given the chance to react at all when the knife had already slit your arm. Everything went silent as the stinging sensation was too much to bear. You screamed out as the cold metal pulled out, leaving your blood to gush out of your flesh.

"You fuckin' bitch!" You heard Ghost yell out as he struggled in the chair, attempting to break free from its constraints. Your ears were greeted with the sound of the chair's loud creaks and groans. The noise seemed to echo through the room as he yanked against the ropes, his movements growing more frantic as the sounds turned into small shouts of effort. "I'll fucking kill you!"

"Give me información, pendejo." was all Valeria stated.

As Ghost's struggles continued, your weak and fatigued body could barely muster the energy to keep your eyes open, let alone attempt to help him. He called out for your help with more desperation, his shouts growing louder and more frantic as the knife sliced at your bruised skin again and again.

"S-Stop!" Your body was paralyzed with fear, your mind paralyzed in shock, unable to process what it was witnessing. You wanted to run, to do anything to make it stop. But all you could do was watch, your tears falling down your cheeks. Your body had betrayed you. "Please..."

"Valeria!" Ghost shouted, no, he tried to call for her to stop when your body convulsed as another wave of sobbing washed over you. Two strong hands squeezed your throat, your breaths coming out in shallow gasps. You tried to comply, but the words coming out of your mouth were so slurred and incoherent, it was impossible to understand. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out, your mind and body exhausted from the pain and stress of Valeria's torture.

"Let go!" You choked out the words between the hands on your throat, your strength fading. You tried to pry her off but Valeria's grip only tightened, cutting off your air. As you struggled, she pressed her hand hard against your face.

"Shhh," she whispered, her voice a cruel taunt. Your vision was blurring as your eyes rolled back, a hand over your mouth stifling your desperate screams. Her voice felt far away, as if you were under water.

"Let... please... let go..." you managed to wheeze out desperately. As you fought against the darkness in your mind, your strength waning, you felt your awareness fading away. You felt as if you were floating, weightless and free all over despite the cold temperatures of the air around you. You felt peaceful, your senses fading and your consciousness slipping as you lost your grip on reality, slowly surrendering to the embrace of the void, your world fading away.

As you began to slip away, the world around you began to dissolve into a blur. It was all splotches of black, the darkness slowly consuming your senses. In your distorted vision, you saw something casting a shadow over you. It was hard to tell what it was, but you tried to focus your eyes on it, your irises dilating in recognition. The blurring slowly faded away, your senses sharpening as you glanced over Valeria's shoulder.

There, the person moved quickly, seizing Valeria's arms, yanking her away from you and tossing her aside. He turned to her with a fury in his eyes, ready to throw hands. The world came back to you with a sudden jolt, your lungs inhaling deeply as your eyes popped open. The colors of the room and the chill of the air on your skin became tangible as you registered the sharp pain of the ground beneath you.

With your eyes squinting, you see how she smirked at him, her gaze confident even as Ghost's body trembled with rage. He stepped forward, grabbing Valeria by the hair and twisting it, using his full strength to force her to the ground. He yanked her by the hair across the floor, his grip tight and unforgiving. His eyes filled with hate, his body trembling with anger, as he slammed her face-first into the floor.

"How dare you," he spat, his voice hoarse and raw. "How dare you lay your dirty hands on her!" Ghost's voice was thick with rage and loathing, his words pouring out in a torrent of fury. But Valeria smiled coolly, looking at him dead in the eyes as he continued to pull her across the floor. She didn't try to fight it, allowing herself to be dragged, but Ghost didn't let up. He didn't release his grip on her hair, even as her body bumped and dragged across the floor.

Ghost pulled Valeria forcefully against the wall, pinning her against it as he kept a firm grip on her hair. She tried to move, to squirm free from his grasp, but he didn't let her. She grabbed the knife that was tucked into her belt, the blade glinting in the light, and tried to stab him in the back. Ghost caught the movement in his peripheral vision, and he quickly grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm in a painful maneuver. The knife dropped from her hand as she let out a cry of pain, the blade falling to the floor with a soft thud.

Ghost looked down at Valeria, her expression twisted into a smirk as she glared up at him in defiance. In that moment, he felt his rage flare, his emotions taking over. Ghost brought his face right up to Valentina's, his expression filled with cold malice and hatred. "What?" He asked, his voice a harsh whisper. "Did you think I *wouldn't* finish you off?" He grabbed hold of her hair with both hands, his expression feral as he looked into her eyes.

Ghost twisted Valeria's arm sharply, and before she knew it, he had her in a chokehold. He tightened his grip, his face filled with rage as he looked into her eyes. She struggled desperately, trying to fight him off, but Ghost's strength was overwhelming. He held on tight, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter, his grip tightening with each breathe. She coughed and gasped for air, her eyes filling with a mixture of fear and regret. And then, a moment later, she was gone. The sound of her body hitting the floor broke the silence as Ghost released his grip, letting her fall to the ground. His heart pounded in his chest as he stood above Valeria's motionless body, his breath catching in his throat.

"Lt..." You managed to choke out as you cleared your throat, trying to get his attention to you. Your hands were shaking, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. He slowly turned to look at you, eyes filling with sudden concern. As the pain and anger disappeared, he was overcome by fear and anxiety, the thought of losing you too much to bear.

He rushed towards you, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no hesitation, his arms enveloping your body in a tight embrace. His embrace was tight and firm, his body pressed up against yours with his warmth radiating from him and his breath filling your ears. The adrenaline pumping through his body still, and you trembled in his arms, clinging to him for reassurance.

"We need to leave fast, love," He murmured, absentmindedly calling you a petname, as he took notice of the bruises and bleeding cuts marring your body. Without another word, he lifted you into his arms, your body limp and weak, and carried you. "Not for long before those suckers come here,"

You hummed as a reply, too tired to form words as you rested your head on his firm chest. You felt him adjusting you a bit when his hand came in contact with the cuts you had on your arm and you hissed, body curling up to comfort yourself. "Sorry," he whispered, his voice gentle. He stayed close to you, letting you lean into him as your body trembled. The fear began to fade, and you felt his warmth surround you, his arms a source of strength and comfort.

As Ghost, with you in his arms, walked outside, you were both silent. The cold air and the rustling of your clothing movements were the only sounds you heard, the sounds of the outside world muted and hazy. Ghost's grip around you was firm and protective, and you felt his body against yours as the cold air brushed back your hair. There were no words spoken between you, the air filled with silence and Ghost's gentle breathing, his warm presence beside you.

Suddenly, Ghost's voice filled your ears and it sent your heart fluttering. "Swear on my word," He gently whispered in the volume of what he should only hear. The heat of his embrace still radiating around you, his arms still wrapped around you, protecting you from the world. "I'll never let you get hurt again."

[literaila]

hi v!! if it's not much to ask, could I request a tasm peter fic where reader encourages him to wear his glasses more cause he looks soooo good in them 🥺 you can take this prompt wherever you want lol I just thought it'd be cute. totally fine if you can't/don't want to!! have a great day <33

glasses

tasm!peter x reader

warnings: fluff, head trauma, teasing (as per usual)

a/n: no one in this fic grabs glasses by the lens because i am not a monster

*

you’re humming to yourself as you walk through the door. bag hanging at your side, feet aching from the walk home.

and your neck hurts a bit. tiny pin pricks of pain trailing up your skin like an uncomfortable reminder that you’re still human. and your stomach is grumbling from the lunch you made, and you can feel your head grinning maliciously, the beginnings of an ache coming on.

but you’re home. and it is a welcome enough reminder when you see peters shoes by the door. his bag hung up against the door, camera strap hanging out the side.

a fresh smile warms your face, and even though you know peter can hear you—feel you—you tiptoe into the living room, sliding off your tennis shoes.

you peek around the corner, sneakily looking for a mop of hair and unnaturally tan skin. but he’s not on the couch.

you frown.

sneaking up to tackle peter might be your favorite part of the day.

“peter?” you call into the empty apartment. “hiding is against the rules.”

you walk into the kitchen, biding your time by stealing a couple of grapes and sipping on whatever coffee peter brought home. it’s cold, but sweet, like chocolate milk so you carry it with you.

but when you’re back he’s still not there.

you scowl, crossing your arms. “i am not playing hide-and-seek,” you say, into the abyss. the silence is teasing.

you sit on the couch, turning on the tv just to get back at him. look at how unbothered you are.

you sit there for probably three minutes. sipping on peters coffee, and tapping your fingers against your leg incessantly. of course he would do this. today.

you’re just about to say something to him again—where ever the bastard is—when something falls on your head.

you yelp and move back, staring at the glasses, now smudged, sitting on the couch like a taunt.

and finally you look up.

peters got his hand over his mouth, a smirk hiding behind those eyes. you glare back at him, biting your lip before you can yell at him.

“oops,” he says, dropping himself on one hand so he can fall on the floor next to you, rubbing the new bump on your head. “sorry, bug.”

your mouth is open and you’re staring at him—glowering—as his lip twitches with the effort not to laugh.

“glad you find yourself amusing,” you snap, but your own laugh sneaks up on you before you can stop it.

he holds his hands up in defense. “all you had to do was look up.”

“oh yeah,” you nod vigorously, accidentally elbowing him in the stomach. “my bad for not checking for you on the ceiling.”

“it was in self defense!” peter pleads, sitting down next to you. his eyes are evil. “i was trying to avoid being attacked!”

“so you attack me instead?”

“they fell,” he emphasizes, sliding his glasses back on. “i said sorry.”

“you’re not forgiven.” you turn away from him, laying back on the couch.

“c’mon, baby.”

you pout.

“it was an accident. y’know id never hurt you on purpose. i cant say the same for some people in this house…” he adds on, smiling at you innocently. he ruffles your hair. “i missed you.”

finally you meet his eyes. completely adoring and somewhat irritating. you make a face and groan. “ugh,” you say, shielding yourself from him. “stop that.”

“what?”

you push him away. “take those off.”

peter frowns, trying to look at his glasses, crossed eyes and unserious. “what? why?”

“you cant look cute when i’m trying to be mad at you,” you say to him, reaching for the glasses, “it isn’t fair.”

peter leans back, giggling mischievously. he pushes your hands away. “i didn’t realize you liked my glasses.”

you pause and blink at him, glaring. “everyone likes a hot nerd.”

“so you think i’m hot,” peter drawls.

“you’re literally my boyfriend. we’ve had this discussion.”

peter leans towards you, a smirk playing on his lips. his cheek keeps twitching and it’s getting hard not to laugh at him and his high eyebrows. “i don’t remember,” peter whispers, “you should remind me.”

you poke his forehead, pushing him and his self righteousness away. “why are you even wearing those? you don’t need them.”

“i think my eyes are going bad again.”

his head twitches, and you watch his completely warm and inviting eyes as he lies. he’s staring at you, and you watch as his eyes dart down, then back up.

“oh no,” you coo, crawling towards him, a different feeling emerging in your chest. “let me see.”

you’re an inch away from his face. if you said another word your lips would brush his. you stare into his eyes, watching him flinch at the feeling of your hand on his chest. his breath hits your cupids brow.

“oh yeah,” you whisper, leaning forward, his lips hitting yours. then you pull back, frowning. “you’re going blind,” you say, “there’s nothing to be done.”

“is that the doctors professional opinion?” peter mumbles, swallowing.

“you won’t be needing these anyway,” you say to him, smiling viciously, and stealing them off of his face.

then you push away from him, moving to the opposite end of the couch.

peter clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. there is a tense moment where you both avoid each others eyes.

“is this payback?” peter asks.

“not sure what you mean, baby.”

“my glasses hit you on the head so you hold them captive?”

you smile, wiping a smudge on the lens with your shirt. “don’t worry, we’re just getting acquainted.” and then you put them on, grinning at peter.

“so you can wear them but i can’t?”

“if you want them back…” you push them down your nose, looking at peter through your eyebrows. “i guess you’ll have to come and take them.”

peter snorts and stands up, taking his time walking towards you. his face is dark, his eyes have fallen down your trap, and you don’t plan to let him go any time soon.

as he takes another step towards you, you can feel it. that tension, the magnetic pull between the two of you. and you know that peter would stick to the ceiling just to get away from it. to avoid the undeniable chemistry between the two of you.

and you know that you would jump up and cling on to him.

when peter is one step in front of you, you pout innocently. “did you want something?”

peters movements are undetectable as he throws the glasses off of your face, leaning down over you, all of him imposing and strong and completely right as his hands wrap around your face, his lips just millimeters from yours.

it takes genuine restraint to keep yourself from leaning forward. and you can tell that peter is feeling the same thing.

“am i forgiven?” he asks, voice low and blurred by your want to leave marks on every inch of his skin.

“just kiss me,” you hiss, and the words are nothing but a pencil scribble down the page before peter is on you, and you are on him.

your hands pull on his hair, and you force him to smother you, his chest leaning against yours, his arms falling as you make him let go.

you’d gladly let peter crush you forever, if only he would string your skin together like fabric.

he moans when you scratch at his scalp, and bites at your lip when you giggle in response.

it is no slow kiss, with no more teasing.

you’ve both reached the end of this cliff, and if he falls, you’re going right with him.

it is breathless and rough, and you don’t mind at all as peters hand around your waist pulls you even closer. as his lips attack yours, and his breath contaminates your own.

your hand moves, going to the neck of his shirt and pulling. then around his shoulders, pleading.

peter laughs against you. he moves back, just so he can whisper, “i’ll start wearing my glasses more often if this is the consequence.”

“shut up,” you lean up to him, using his skin for leverage.

his smile is childish and it melts into you.

you breathe against him, unable to keep your own smile back. teeth clash, but neither of you mine or pause.

until peter breathes too harshly, too recklessly. he pulls back, laughing at your face, at your puffy lips and bewitched eyes. “bedroom?” he asks.

you smile back at him, leaning over to grab the glasses he threw beside you, and sliding them on his face. “those stay on,” you tell him.

his laugh echoes as he carries you down the hallway.

*

[seraphicloves]

𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒕

⊱✿⊰ summary: leo has a thing for you, something he should not be feeling at all. you're the opposite of him in every way, a villain of sorts. but your touch is a drug he can't help but continue to take.

⊱✿⊰ warnings: very suggestive, making out, enemies to lovers (?), leo is a dork ofc, the personality's might be a tad off since i haven't written for tmnt in ages, fem reader bc i write for me lol, written by a 16 yr old

⊱✿⊰ notes: IM BACK WITH A TMNT FIC!! i had a dream while i was napping where i made out w leo but i was like his enemy and it was fire asf

Leo knows he should have turned back as soon as he saw your silhouette, one he has gotten much too accustomed to. You were evil- tainting his heart with every delightful touch or whisper.

He should have turned back, but he was weak. He kept going, feet pressed firmly into the ground. His fingers twitched nervously, unsure if he made the wrong decision. He was supposed to try and detain you, not wonder if you thought of him as much as he thinks of you.

"Hi there, Blue." You purred, suddenly slipping out from the shadows. You were as goregous as always, wearing that tight suit that accentuated every curve. He wanted to grab you; place his large palms on your hips and consume you.

"You shouldn't be here," He said curtly, trying to keep his reactions as calm and relaxed as possible. He was a hero, he needed to keep it together. At the very least so his brothers won't find out how much of a dork he is. "You know I have patrol and I'll need to stop whatever plans you have going on."

You laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. How could one so malicious look so sweet? You were like a nightmare disguised as a daydream- a candy coated poison. You were soft and delicate, looking so very human compared to him. But was it hard to look human compared to someone as.. grotesque as him?

Leo was not usually one for insecurities, unlike his brothers. But being around you made him remember just how different he was from the everyday teen. He couldn't meet you outside of these late night meetings, he couldn't be friends with you. He could only be the hero in the night, saving New York from whatever you were planning on stealing.

"Aww c'mon," You said, stalking closer to him. You stopped until you were right in front of him, letting your fingers caress his plastron. Leo's breath hitched, trying to concentrate on the conversation and not where your touch sent sparks through his skin, "Do y'think New York is gonna miss a couple of diamonds? I think they look real good in my hands."

He narrowed his eyes at you, forcing himself to stop the urge to pull you in for a kiss. Your lips tasted sweet, he was almost certain. Maybe they were soft or a little bit chapped, he didn't particularly care. As long as it was your lips touching his.

Fuck, he really needed to get control of himself. This was entirely insane. How could you get his mind spinning so quickly?

"I'm not going to let you steal diamonds. What do you even need them for?" Leo replied, trying to appear strict. He didn't want you to realize how quickly you could bring him to his knees if you felt like it.

"Pretty girls deserve pretty things, don't you agree?" You hummed, twirling around Leo while wearing that notoriously sly grin. Maybe he should tell his brothers about you, simply so he could stop the insanity that was happening within his head.

"I think criminals like you need to be stopped," He suddenly said, grabbing your wrist when you attempted to touch him again. He pushed you against the wall, holding your arms above your head.

And the look you gave him was purely sinister. What sort of evil plans might you have concocted? Did you know how you made him feel when you looked at him like...like that.

With parted lips and eyes blown out wide. You looked so...shocked by his actions as if it was surprising he was capable of flustering you. And yet here you were, blushing over the blue masked hero.

"You need to behave," He said sternly, (surprising himself with his sudden domineering tone) and he looked at you. You were helpless beneath him, both because he was holding your arm- and your heart.

With a boldness that he hadn't realized he had, he leaned in very close. His breath fanned across your cheek, his lips brushing aganist your own. "Unless you want me to punish you."

The little hitch of your breath broke his will to resist you. Hungrily, he smashed his lips into yours. He kept you pressed aganist the wall as he kissed you, full of passion and a forbidden desire for more.

You pressed back into him, your soft lips slotted between his. He wasn't used to this, kissing a girl like he was an average guy. But somehow it felt perfectly right. You were pressed aganist him and you were kissing him and everything felt so perfect.

Leo shouldn't be doing this. It was your first kiss but somehow it felt more like a snake bite. You were sinking your venom into his skin and tainting his heart until it would only react to you. He was in deep, deep enough he was sure to drown.

You pulled away finally, taking large gulps of air as you stared at him. Your face was warm, like you were blushing and your eyes were hazy with a sort of emotion that made Leo's brain short circuit.

"Holy shit," You murmured, still a bit dazed from the kiss..well kisses. You slumped aganist the wall and said with a half hearted grin, "If that's your version of a punishment, I ought to steal even more."

Leo blushed and looked away, trying to regain his senses. Then he heard a noise, a slight chatter. Shit, his brothers are sure to be checking up on him.

He pulled away and let you go, not looking at you as he said seriously, "Get out of here before my brothers find you."

You blinked at him, processing his words. Then you replied, "You're going to let me go? What about-"

Leo gave you a single look, his stern expression softening for a second before he said, "Don't make me regret it, [Name]."

That was all it took to convince you to get the fuck out of there. You slipped through the shadows, disappearing just as Leo's brothers appeared.

"Were you talking to someone, Nardo?" Mikey asked, tilting his head curiously.

"No, it was nothing." Leo lied, still watching the spot where you disappeared. Then he turned back to his brothers,trying to ignore that feeling in his chest.

The feeling that said he wouldn't be able to get over you for a very long time. You ensnared him, and he wasn't all that sure he was upset about it.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[anonymousewrites]

Apple of My Eye Chapter Two

Eventual! Harry Hook x Child of Snow White! Reader

Chapter Two: Friend Like Me

Summary: (Y/N) and the VKs get along very well, even if other Auradon kids are avoiding them.

            (Y/N) grimaced as they walked towards the “Remedial Goodness 101” classroom. They wished they had known about the class before Evie, Carlos, Mal, and Jay arrived. Then they could have said, “No, that’s a terrible idea for a class because it’s demeaning and horrible and also says to their face that we think they’re stupid and already evil.”

            Unfortunately, it was done, and the VKs were stuck in the class. Fortunately, the hour was up, and (Y/N) got to save them from Fairy Godmother’s cliches and take them to their next class.

            “You find a vial of poison!” said Fairy Godmother dramatically. “Do you: A, put it in the king’s wine? B, paint it on an apple?—” Laughter from Evie, non-malicious, and the others— “Or C, turn it over to the proper authorities?”

            “Obviously paint it on an apple,” said (Y/N) as they walked into the room. “Because who is silly enough to take an apple from a stranger?” They laughed.

            Evie chuckled a little, Mal snorted, and Jay and Carlos grinned. Fairy Godmother sighed, used to (Y/N)’s humor, and put on a smile.

            “Is our time up already?” said Fairy Godmother.

            “You’re the stickler for time,” said (Y/N). “It’s time for gym for Jay and Carlos, and Evie and Mal have English with me.”

            “Alright, don’t be late,” said Fairy Godmother, waving as her students packed up to leave. “And remember to be good!”

            “I’m really sorry about that class,” said (Y/N). “I think Ben was pushed into allowing it so that everyone would relax.” They sighed. “At least it’s an easy A.”

            “Pick the least fun option is the answer key,” said Mal, smirking. She’d already figured it out.

            (Y/N) chuckled.

l

            “Welcome to our poetry class,” said (Y/N), sitting down at a table. Evie and Mal sat across from them.

            “We have to write about our feelings?” said Mal, unimpressed.

            “No, we can write about anything. Today’s a free day,” said (Y/N). “We can either read the assigned pieces—we’re currently reading about poems on nature and how some social classes look at nature positively due to their position while others look at it negatively—or we work on our own pieces. At the end of the year we’ll have a curated collection to show growth and understanding of various techniques.”

            “I’m still not going to make it…sappy,” said Mal.

            “Do spells have a cadence?” asked (Y/N).

            “Yes,” said Mal. “Obviously. Otherwise you’re just talking.”

            “So spells are poems with magic,” said (Y/N). “Try making your own spell.”

            “And it can be anything?” said Mal, considering now. She could create an evil spell to impress her mother with.

            “Preferably not a curse, I don’t think anyone would appreciate that,” said (Y/N).

            Mal hummed noncommittedly. She’d behave in front of everyone, but her mission was clear. She would make her mother proud.

            “I’m going to write about finding my prince,” sighed Evie. “And castles. And ballgowns.”

            “You’re going to love your arts elective,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “It’s design.”

            Mal could have sworn she saw hearts in Evie’s eyes and decided to erase the disgusting sight from her memory. And she pushed away the smile that twitched at the edges of her lips upon seeing her best friend so happy.

l

            “I can use any of this,” said Evie, staring at the rolls upon rolls of fabric before her.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N) as they sketched. “And if you’re part of the design club, you can come any time during the day, not just your class.” They smiled. “Most people in this class do it to learn small DIYs, they still like their personal tailors and everything, but some people have made formal gowns and suits here, too.”

            “I’m going to make a whole new wardrobe,” said Evie, flipping open her sketchbook and getting to work.

            (Y/N) smiled.

l

            “You don’t have to work with me,” said Mal coldly as she measured the chemical they were about to combine in the flask. Chemistry required a lot of close attention.

            “You needed a partner, and everyone else here knows someone,” said (Y/N), holding the flask steady.

            “You mean no one wants to work with the Villain Kid,” said Mal, straightforward. “And you’re assigned to us.”

            “I volunteered,” said (Y/N).

            Mal paused and looked at them. “You volunteered?” She didn’t believe it.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Why?” demanded Mal.

            “Because I think Ben’s right,” said (Y/N). “You and all the other children born on the Isle aren’t at fault for what your parents did. You deserve freedom, a chance to live your own story.” They smiled. “So I volunteered to work on the project. I want you, Evie, Carlos, and Jay to do well here so that Ben can bring more kids over.”

            “And yet he chose the worst and the worst to start out with,” said Mal.

            “Go big or go home, right?” said (Y/N), chuckling.

            “My mom tried that by turning into a dragon, and I think she got the ‘go home’ option. She’s still not over that,” remarked Mal with a grin.

            “My mom had to create a pros and cons list for eating nectarines because they’re a cross of peaches and apples, and she’s still suspicious of all apples,” said (Y/N).

            The pair looked at each other before laughing.

l

            “How do you think things are going?” asked Ben excitedly. “I think Jay is interested in Tourney, and Carlos likes Dude!”

            “That’s great,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “I saw Mal with Jane. Are they friends?” said Ben, a large grin on his face. “This is going so well.”

            “Slow down,” said (Y/N). “It’s only been a few days. Things are still settling for them.”

            “But it has been going well,” said Ben.

            “Well, they’ve been doing well in classes, which is good,” said (Y/N). “And Jane and Mal have hung out more.” They frowned. “Even if it is because Mal did Jane’s hair…” They were a bit hesitant around beauty magic due to the…lengths some people went with insecurities—someone trying to murder your mother over looks would make you unsure about that magic—but it was just hair, right? And it was a nice thing Mal did. “But Jane seems happier, and Mal was only hanging with the VKs and me before that, so I guess it’s a step. And Evie spends time with Doug. And Chad, unfortunately, but he’s harmless other than having a pretty face with no real brain.”

            “You spend a lot of time with them,” said Ben. “You guys seem to be real friends.”

            “Jealous?” said (Y/N), glancing at Ben. They knew he spent a lot of time checking up with Mal when he saw her.

            He coughed and turned a bit red. “Jealous? No, just concerned. I want to make sure they’re doing well.”

            “Uh-huh,” hummed (Y/N).

l

            “Mom said, ‘If a boy can’t see the beauty within, then he’s not worth it,’ ” complained Jane. “Can you believe it? What world does she live in?”

            “Auradon,” said Mal.

            “Jane, do you want a man who only wants beauty or one that loves all of you?” said (Y/N).

            Jane sighed. “All of me. But they all want beauty, too.”

            “You are beautiful, Jane,” said (Y/N). They wished their friends could see their own beauty, inside and out.

            “Says the child of Snow White, the most beautiful woman ever,” grumbled Jane.

            “Does it look like I got those genes?” said (Y/N), leaning on their hand.

            Jane huffed. “Still better than me. I got stocky fairy genes.”

            “Mal, (Y/N), what do you think?” Evie held up her latest creation, a black and blue dress.

            “It brings out your eyes,” said Mal.

            “It looks nice,” said (Y/N).

            “I know,” said Evie proudly.

            “I’ll never get a boyfriend,” bemoaned Jane.

            “Boyfriends are overrated,” said Mal.

            “How would you know, Mal? You’ve never had one,” said Evie.

            “It’s ‘cause I don’t need one, E,” retorted Mal. “They’re a waste of time.”

            Evie gasped at the mention of time. “I forgot to do Chad’s homework!”

            “And that is exactly what I mean,” said Mal.

            “Evie, you shouldn’t do it for him,” said (Y/N). “He is not worth it.” Evie was worth so much more than just her looks, and that was all Chad would look at.

            “What, is he a bad ex?” said Mal, smirking.

            “No, he’s just a shallow idiot,” said (Y/N). “Think male version of Audrey but less sharp.”

            Mal snorted at the description.

            “You always land great partners,” said Jane. “That’s why you don’t worry like I do.”

            “I’ve had two dates,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “And neither of them were right for me.”

            Evie put down Chad’s homework to grin. “Spill. Who?”

            “Princess Ariel and Prince Eric’s son and Prince Naveen and Princess Tiana’s daughter,” said (Y/N).

            “You dated two royals?” Evie sighed. “Lucky.”

            “I went out on one day with each, but neither gave me a real spark. I just felt content. I didn’t feel alive,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “I’m still waiting to find True Love.”

            “True Love, huh? If it hadn’t defeated my mom, I wouldn’t believe in it,” said Mal.

            “It is pretty rare,” admitted (Y/N). “But it would still be nice to find it.”

            Evie smiled softly. “Yeah.”

            Knock-knock.

            Lonnie, (Y/N)’s friend, knocked on the door of the room and peeked inside.

            “Hi,” she said, smiling at everyone. “I’m Lonnie. My Mom’s Mulan? No? Anyways, I love what you’ve done with Jane’s hair.” Lonnie grinned at Mal. “And I know you hate us, and, well, you’re evil—” (Y/N) frowned “—But do you think you can do mine?”

            Mal frowned. “Why would I do that for you?”

            “I’ll pay you fifty dollars,” said Lonnie.

            “Good answer.” Evie took the money. “I need to buy more material. Let’s see…I’m thinking we’ll lose the bangs, maybe some layers, and some highlights.”

            “Yeah, yeah, I want it to be cool,” said Lonnie. “Like Mal’s.”

            “The split ends, too?” said Evie. Mal glowered, and Evie just smirked and shook the money at her.

            Mal sighed, grabbed her spell book, and flipped through it. “Okay…‘Beware, foreswear, replace the old with cool hair.’ ” She drew a design in the air with her finger.

            Lonnie’s hair became a lighter brown and cascaded down her shoulders in soft curls. She touched the soft locks and looked into the mirror. Her eyes widened.

            “I know, I know,” said Evie. “It looks like a mop on your head. You know what, let’s cut it off. Layer it—”

            “No, no, no,” said Lonnie, grinning. “I love it.”

            “You do?” said Evie.

            Lonnie grabbed the edge of her skirt and ripped. Now she had a slit in her skirt. “Now I’m cool,” she said proudly.

            Jane walked up next to her and looked in the mirror. She grabbed the hem of her skirt. She tore. Then, she gasped. “What did I just do? Mom’s gonna kill me.”

            “She won’t, it’s just a skirt,” said (Y/N), waving a hand.

            “Thanks, Mal,” said Lonnie. She smiled. “I’m going to tell all the girls. Bye!” She left the room. Jane hurried out after her, already trying to figure out what to tell her mom about her skirt.

l

            (Y/N) yawned as they walked towards the dorm kitchen. They were starving, and they’d run out of fruit they’d kept in their dorm, so off to the kitchens they went. They opened the door and found a startled Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay staring at them from inside.

            Smiling, they walked farther in. “Hey, guys, grabbing a midnight snack, too?” They looked at the cookie batter on the table. “Looks good. Mind if I try some?” They grabbed a spoon, dipped it, and took a bite. “Mmm.”

            Evie and Mal winced, Carlos and Jay exchanged glances, and all four looked at (Y/N) expectantly.

            “Do you…feel anything?” said Evie slowly.

            “Like it’s…missing something?” said Mal.

            “You guys could add chocolate chips,” suggested (Y/N), turning to the fridge. Behind them, all the VKs let out a breath of relief that nothing had gone wrong.

            “Chocolate chips?” said Jay, furrowing his brow.

            “Some of the best treats out there,” said (Y/N), taking a bag out of the fridge. They smiled. “My mom would always add them to brownies and cookies when I was feeling down.” (Y/N) sprinkled some into the bowl, and the VKs watched the tiny pieces of chocolate mix with the batter.

            “Feeling down?” said Evie quietly.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), leaning on the table. “I had a tough time with insecurity growing up. When everyone in the world thinks your mom is beautiful, they make comments expecting you to be. It took me a while to learn not to compare myself to others.” They smiled as they remembered their childhood. “But my mom would always remind me of what mattered when I got down, and she’d make us sweets, put on a movie, and just hold me.” They looked up, and their face fell.

            Each of the VKs was staring at them with a strange look in their eyes. Carlos had leaned in longingly. Jay was silent, looking at his feet. Mal had furrowed her brow, confused by the idea of what (Y/N)’s mom was like. Evie stared at the cookie batter, thinking of all the times she’d been insecure and been reminded she would never be as fair as her mom but she needed to be second best at least.

            They hadn’t gotten that softness, that kindness.

            “Did I…say something?” said (Y/N) quietly. They hadn’t meant to upset them.

            Mal cleared her throat. “It’s just different where we’re from.”

            “Oh. So your parents didn’t—” (Y/N) swallowed as they watched the VKs shift and blink away their emotions. Tears burned the edges of (Y/N)’s eyes. The VKs’ parents hadn’t helped any of them deal with their insecurities and instead fed into them. “I’m sorry,” whispered (Y/N). “You deserve better.” A tear ran down their cheek.

            Mal’s eyes widened, she reached out, and she wiped the tear from (Y/N)’s cheek. (Y/N) blinked in confusion, and Mal flicked her hands dry—and the tear “happened” to fall into the bowl of batter.

            “Yeah, well, big bummer,” said Mal, clearing her throat and moving on. She was not soft. “But we have to get these in the oven, so thank you so much for coming by.”

            “Bye,” said Evie as Mal pushed (Y/N) towards the door.

            “Oh, yeah, right,” said (Y/N). They wouldn’t intrude any more after ruining the mood. “Goodnight.”

            “We’ll see you tomorrow,” said Mal.

            “Swe—Evil dreams,” said Evie.

Taglist:

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[nmakii]

Ok so another part to your yandere alastor series?! Im like obsessed with them, i love the way you write Alastor!!

So an idea i guess? I love the idea Alastor slowly corrupting his kids and reader trying her best to correct them? Obviously she can’t. Idk, i can see Al wanting his son carry on his legacy while his daughter is becomes a sweet but strong woman who can probably destroy your life in a matter of minutes. I just want his kids to get corrupted to become like him!! 😭

IN A MOURNING WARNING, NO ONE HEARD

[hold up! read the rest of the story first!]

— day by day, alastor ruined your children with his malicious thoughts, while you set them straight. it’s as if evil and good decided to fight their battle in your house.

every day in this house was a headache. sleeping beside the monster called husband every night, him cuddled up to your side as if he hadn’t broken your hopes for years. acting in front of your children as if everything was fine— that they had parents who were madly in love with each other. and, raising your children. of course, raising them in itself is difficult, but alastor seems to just enjoy making your life a hell on earth.

implanting evil thoughts into your babies’ minds, and there was no one else but you to fix his mess. to instill morals in their minds, and to make sure they grow up to be diligent and kind.

sitting down at the dinner table seemed to grow harder and harder each day. resisting the urge to vomit as your son told you and alastor of how he found a rat at school, and how he had cut its’ tail off to see if it’d regrow like a lizard. the image of your little boy being so cruel made you sick to your stomach. and, alastor, he’d done nothing but laugh. “oh, my! quite the experiment, my boy!” he chuckled as he took another bite of his food. “now, dear… that isn’t very nice, don’t you think?” you frowned. “mmh, but dad said that i should feed my curiosity!” noah pouted.

“well, dad is true on that. but, you shouldn’t feed your curiosity if it hurts other people or animals.” you said, lecturing him. “au contraire, my love.” alastor interrupted. “id say that curiosity is one of the most important human emotions! how else do you think mankind discovered to hunt and cook chicken, pork, beef…” he rambled. “they are good for the body, aren’t they? they give the body protein so that they’re strong and so they can protect the people they love! don’t you want our little boy to protect his friends and family?” he raised an eyebrow. “yeah, momma! so that i can protect you and emilia!” noah said.

you felt your heart crack at his words. it seemed as if there was no hope in undoing what alastor had done. as if the little boy you worked hard to raise died. but, maybe there was still hope for your daughter.

“oh, and dad!” noah said excitedly as he looked to alastor. “my friends think its so cool that we go hunting, and they wanna join too! can we bring them, please?” noah begged, bringing alastor’s amusement. “aw, they want to join us? hm, i suppose we could, but only if they’re as well-behaved as you!” he hummed, to noah’s delight. “really?! you’re the best, dad!” noah grinned, running to alastor to loosely hug him by the neck. “yes, yes… now, go finish your meal. your mother worked hard to cook that, and it won’t taste so good when it’s cold.” he said, patting his son on the head.

you zoned out, staring at your daughter in her chair, playing with her food, and scratching the bowl with her little fork. she giggled and talked to herself, before blood started flowing from her nose. “oh, dear…” you muttered under your breath, running to the kitchen to get a tissue paper. “eww! momma, emilia is drinking her own blood! yuck!” noah called out, scrunching his face in disgust. and, when you returned, emilia was, indeed, drinking her own blood— licking her top lip as the blood leaked, and smiling at the metallic taste in her mouth. “oh, emi, sweetie… don’t do that. blood is yucky.” you scolded your daughter as you wiped the blood from her nose.

“yummy!” she shouted, licking her lip for the remains. alastor grinned at her comment, “i couldn’t agree more, baby!” he laughed, swaying the water in his glass. “not right now, alastor. emi is bleeding.” you huffed out in a frustrated manner. “ah, i suppose you’re right, darling. emi, baby, are you okay?” he cooed to your daughter across the table. “i’m okay, daddy!” she grinned, going back to eating as per usual, despite the roll of tissue in her nostril.

“are you okay, my love?” alastor asked, his eyes moving to you. “i’m alright, just exhausted today.” you let out, keeping your emotions and intentions to yourself. “hmm, then why don’t you rest after dinner, dear? noah and i can wash the dishes.” he assured you. “wah?! but, dad, i wanna go play!” noah huffed and pouted. “now, son… protecting also means to help others when they are tired. don’t you wanna help momma?” he asked your son. and as noah thought it over, alastor spoke again, giving him more of an incentive. “now, i hate to do this… but, if you don’t help your mother, i won’t bring your friends to hunt.” noah’s eyes widened at the unfairness. “what?!” he frowned. “guh, fine, ill do the dishes!” he pouted, gathering the cleared dishes and bringing them to the sink. “hmph, good boy.” he grinned. “go rest now, dear.”

and, as you went up the stairs, that moment finally dawned on you. that hunting with his friends and father meant so much to him, he was willing to do household chores. it shattered your heart as tears filled your eyes— why couldn’t you go back to a simpler time? when it was just the two of you. when all you had was each other.

“momma, i missed you!” noah said hugging your legs as you returned from work. “aw, i missed you too, baby!” you smiled at your precious boy. “c’mon! i wanna play with you!” he said, attempting to pull you by your wrist. “in a second, sweetie! momma has to take off her heels!” you laughed.

that memory was 6 years ago.

[qin-qin16]

cw: Nightmare is here, this is not a sans ship in any sense, character death, graphic violence (?), Killer’s resets, toxic interactions, evil writing come back >:3

note: Since this is quite Nightmare's vision, Killer is refered as "it".

The black appendage ricocheted through the air, sending a meager trace of the persistent fluid crashing to the ground, some still glued to their tentacle — slowly being absorbed, blending into their sticky mass of tar.

“It's fascinatingly annoying how you always manage to disappoint me,” Nightmare declares, their tongue clicking against the roof of their mouth when no answer comes, “Let me rephrase that: it's frustrating how predictable you are in disappointing me, yet curious how you do it — always managing to surprise me.”

Their turquoise orb slid down the body of their sole servant, a faint malicious gleam appearing in their gaze as the red ring pulsed weakly against the tattered rags it wore — the light it emitted growing fainter as thin cracks emerging from the core of Killer's hybrid soul.

"It’s a shame; a waste of time and effort." Nightmare sighed deeply, before turning their attention to no particular spot in the room; any detail of the space they were in was more interesting — and worthy — of their focus than the body lying at their feet.

The armchair, free of any scratches or dust; the gleaming bookshelf, filled with hardcover books — each with its title displayed on the spine; the clean rug, no stain marking its surface; even the lone window — exposed at the far end of the room, long and with dark glass — was more fascinating to observe than Killer's worn-out body.

A filthy, tattered rag with no dignity left.

Their tentacles trembled slightly; even as a walking dead creature, Killer never ceased to surprise them, making Nightmare hesitate before the skeleton lying on the floor. It was as if every movement of Nightmare's was being watched by those two deep holes, devoid of any gleaming pupils.

"I'm sure the next one will be more competent, more... loyal to my principles." That was their last utterance before finishing the job. A single ricochet of the appendage, and Killer's soul shattered into countless fragments, taking with it the faint light that remained in the room.

It didn’t even let out a final sigh; its bones discarded at their feet had long since surrendered, the spasms from the brief struggle stopping the moment the first cut was made. Not even its pleas for mercy brought Nightmare any pleasure this time — a true waste of time.

Their orb rolls across their face, searching for another temporary distraction before they have to go out and pick up another stray again. 

A soft jingle echoes, like a dead whisper inside their skull — a strange, morbid echo. Quickly, Nightmare’s eyeball shifts to the body in front of them, or rather, to the void it left behind. Not even dust remained, just a dull puddle — the last trace of his determination, the only reminder that, moments ago, Killer had been dead at their feet.

Knocks at the door make Nightmare falter for a moment, their body stiffening, appendages rising and positioning themselves in front of them for a brief instant — shielding their body from whatever lay behind the door not far from them. They knew who it was; they had caught a glimpse of the faint golden star just minutes before both had passed through that door.

Without so much as asking for permission, that thing slowly opens the door, a sound of wood scraping against the floor gnawing at Nightmare’s mind, now unable to tear their attention away from the figure, who gradually revealed itself with the weak, familiar red light — illuminating not only its old clothes but the short path between it and Nightmare.

"Greetings, boss," Killer grins widely, its mouth fixed in a black, toothless curve on its face, the eye sockets even deeper than before. "If I may say, I can still be quite useful to you." The soul before it trembles, struggling to form a single shape.

"You just need to let me show you."

@howlsofbloodhounds @what-have-i-unleashed @justanidiotartist