#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.

[perenlop]

i get the frustration with so many villains now getting treatment like “oh they had a sucky childhood so actually you need to feel bad for them and not hold them accountable for their actions” but the counter of “this person was born evil and cant ever grow and its pathetic to assume that they can, also people cant be redeemed no matter what and this is fantastic writing actually” is so exhausting. 

[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??????

[vauxxy]

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.”

[kissedsuns]

oscar thot incoming, i'm thinking of oscar holding reader's legs open as he overstims her until squirting 👀

content warnings! overstimulation, fem!reader, explicit sexual content, dom + sub undertones, oral, fluff, pet names, suggestive behaviour, slight dumbification, dirty talk, dacryphilia, swearing. (i’m not huge on piss so i just left that out)

oscar is a good boyfriend—strong, stern, and most importantly, he knows things. he knows that you’ll start tearing up when you’re about to cum, that when your hips begin to writhe frantically, your thighs will clamp around his head, and he’ll need to act fast, or else he might suffocate. above all, he knows you’re just a simple girl who needs a good orgasm from her boyfriend to calm down.

you can practically feel oscar smile against your clit as he laps at your pussy with insatiable hunger. it’s delicious—the way his tongue glides through your folds, swirling around your clit while he lets out soft grunts that only push you closer to the edge.

your throat is raw, every sob choked out with each eager suckle of oscar’s mouth, which is quite literally glued to your clit. there’s cum everywhere, drenching both of you and filling the air with wet, lewd sounds as oscar fucks you with his tongue. his movements are sloppy, almost messy, but he can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’re falling apart beneath him.

you’re dizzy, lost in a haze, and oscar is just as faded as you are, murmuring filthy words that have you almost cumming right then and there.

that fucker takes pride in knowing no one else has ever managed to take you to cloud nine like he does—again and again. oscar has you squirming, your hands desperately clawing at anything within reach, whether it’s the sheets, his soft hair, or the hand gripping your thighs, holding you in place so you can’t snap them around his head.

he kicks it up a notch, his lips curling around your swollen clit. his tongue swirls over it again and again, causing your breath to hitch. it almost hurts how good it feels. you’re spent beyond comprehension, yet he continues. he sucks on your sensitive bud, the pleasure so intense that your knees buckle. gasping for air, you feel him flick his tongue hungrily against your sweet spot, slick with the creamy nectar he loves so much.

he moans into you every now and then, reveling in the way your eyes glaze over from the vibrations that are sending shockwaves through your whole body. this self-indulgent act is greedy, he knows it, but he can’t help it; you’re just so fucking gorgeous when you gush all over him.

oscar gives your clit one final, teasing suck before releasing it with a soft pop and looking up at you.

“tired?” he asks, watching as you nod—this small response is all you can manage. he licks an evil stripe up your pussy, grinning maliciously when you whimper and squirm on the bed.

you're practically drooling, jaw slack, little "ah ah ah" sounds spilling from your lips—the only noises you can make as oscar relentlessly works your clit with that infuriating tongue of his. you want to kill him for not stopping, but the only thing keeping you from trying is his large palm, splayed over your thighs, pinning you in place.

you babble incoherently, tears streaming down your cheeks in frustration, but oscar doesn’t seem to care, his grip on your legs only tightening.

"i can’t make out what you’re saying through those tears of yours, baby." he detaches himself from your pussy, only to bring his free hand up and rub slow circles over your swollen clit. "did you say you wanted more?" your hips buck frantically, thighs trying to clamp together again, but oscar’s iron grip holds them apart. "uh-uh," he tuts, "you know better, silly girl."

the overstimulation becomes too much, and you cum all over oscar’s nose from the constant nudging against your sensitive clit. the look on his face when he pulls away is ethereal.

his nose is caked in your slick, a shit-eating grin dancing on his lips. that’s all you can focus on, apart from the white dots swirling in your vision.

“you can give me another, yeah?” those pleading puppy-dog eyes pierce right through you.

you have to physically yank him away when you need a breather because he just doesn’t. listen. his appetite for you is truly something else, but really, who are you to turn down a perfect man, like oscar, who’s only wish is something as simple as spending the entire day eating you out endlessly, without restraint?

[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.

[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.

*

[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.

[armandsfangs]

this not now kitten gifset just brought to mind for me all the fics that feature daniel (old daniel especially god bless) calling daniel baby or babe and armand just melts like you get the occasional did he just call ME a 514 year old ancient vampire baby?? but mostly he eats it up and i just need that to happen on the show asap

(this is the gifset in question)

I'm not a big pet name person but I've seen this fanon so much that I've internalized it too 😭

Have young and old Daniel calling Armand babe:

---

1976

"What did you just say?"

Heat rushes to Daniel's cheeks, and suddenly he wants to bury his head in the ground. It had slipped out so naturally he didn't realise until his handsome vampiric stalker raised a sardonic eyebrow and questioned him in that stupidly silky voice.

Daniel runs a hand through his tangled curls, trying to casually hide his reddened face behind his arm. "I said, uh, do you wanna go to the movies tonight? You're always following me anyways, so might as well go together, right?" he rambles.

A shadow of malicious glee flits over Armand's angelic face. "No, that's not all that you said. Repeat it exactly."

Daniel thinks he would rather Armand just kill him right now and put him out of his misery.

"Don't be stupid, Daniel. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long ago. Now, speak."

The humiliation increases tenfold when a shiver runs down Daniel's spine at being commanded like a dog. The wicked glint in Armand's eyes confirms that he has noticed this and will be using this information to further his evil plot against Daniel's chastity.

Daniel mumbles, "Do you wanna go to the movies tonight... babe?"

Armand's terrible smile widens. It's almost blinding in its brilliance. But Daniel can't look away even if he wanted to. Armand is magnetic, the way he draws Daniel closer until the unnaturally cool huff of laughter from Armand's lips ghosts across his own. He shivers again.

Armand whispers like he's imparting a profound secret, "I would love to, beloved."

The endearment melts sweetly on his tongue.

2024

"Check this out, babe!"

It slips out of Daniel so smoothly that it takes Armand by complete surprise. His breath catches. Citrine eyes flick toward the younger vampire's glowing expression before quickly casting their gaze down to where a phone was being held in front of his face. For a moment, Armand is too conscious of the warmth creeping up his cheeks to pay attention to what Daniel is showing him.

His silence prompts Daniel to peer at him, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Babe? You alright? It's fine if you're not interested," Daniel says, a tad sheepishly. As if he's not making Armand's long dead nervous system go into overdrive.

It's an advertisement for a drive-in theatre showing 80s horror films, Armand realises faintly.

"No - that sounds lovely - we should go." The words tumble out of his mouth as he shifts his weight back to put some distance between them for fear of Daniel noticing the way his pulse quickens from the little endearment.

It's far too late. Daniel's shrewd green eyes morph into keen orange.

"You're turned on," he says bluntly. "It better not be from that picture of Freddy Krueger."

Armand lets out a snort. "You wound me, Daniel."

"Then..." A predatory smirk slowly spreads across Daniel's face. "What is it, babe?"

"Insolent brat," Armand says, without any bite. His cheeks are burning. Why did he feed so recently?

"Come on, baby, tell me what's wrong." Daniel is full on grinning as he leans forward, taking Armand's hand in his and dropping light kisses on each of his fingertips. "I'll take care of it for you, babe."

Armand's stomach flutters like a swarm of locusts.

"Such impertinence toward your maker," he says fondly, as Daniel moves on to pawing at his waist. He allows himself to be pulled onto Daniel's lap and melts into his arms with a contented sigh. "I am four centuries your elder, yet you insist on calling me 'babe'. Doesn't it sound ridiculous?"

Daniel shakes his head. "Who cares, as long as you like it? It's not about age. When you're a thousand years old and I'm five hundred and something, I'll still call you 'babe' and I'll still ask you to go to the movies with me. You know, like... Like our first date."

Armand stares at him, at the earnestness in Daniel's upturned face, at the way Daniel's cheeks still redden under his scrutiny.

Daniel shifts nervously. "H-Hey, don't just stare at me like that, say something, babe."

Clasping Daniel's face in his hands, Armand says, "Beloved, I'm going to make you come so hard you see God."

Daniel's eyes widen.

[novankenn]

So do you have a plan with the Jaune being Salem's descended or was that a one shot?

Answer: I don't have plans per-say, but considering you took the time to ask... the at least I can do is expand on the original. I will say this... when I started the original and then this, I am not picturing Salem as suddenly giving up on her eons old grudge.

Original Post : You Look... Familiar...

You look... Familiar... Confirmations?

Salem: I need to know for certain...

Jaune: ARRGGG.... ACK!

Salem clamped her hand down on the back of Jaune's neck, pulled him up and then started to drag him a cross the floor of her expansive throne room.

Salem: They all died. I saw it. I know it.

Jaune did his best to keep up with the immortal evil incarnate woman. He squeezed his own powerful hands about her slender wrist to no effect... aside from slightly easing the pressure she was exerting upon his flesh and bones.

Salem: If she survived... what of the others? Could... no I must be positive in this vision... I must know.

Grimm raced past the pair as Salem continued to drag the struggling form of Jaune deeper into her ominous abode. Through the grand corridors and nearly barren rooms the sounds of conflict echoed, but Salem paid none of it the slightest bit of attention.

Salem: This can not be possible. The powers we unleashed upon each other... they could not have...

Summoning a shadow hand, the door before her was wrenched open. Inside shelves cluttered with books, and tables covered in archaic instruments. Tightening her grip upon Jaune's neck she lifted him from the floor.

Jaune: AHHHH!!!

Salem: I will discover the truth of your ancestry... I refuse to accept someone as weak as you shares an ounce of my blood...

With a shove Jaune was sent stumbling through the door way, crashing face first upon the stone-work floor. Even hurting Jaune wasn't about to give up, so scampered to his feet and rounded on Salem.

Jaune: Omph! Unn!

Salem: Heroic fool.

Jaune looked up from the floor upon which he was laying. A single backhanded blow from Salem having floored him, instantly.

Salem: You have no chance against me, and despite you faith in your friends they will fair no better... but first.

Jaune tried to scamper to his feet, as Salem picked up a wicked looking dagger, and a strange bowl from a nearby table.

Jaune: Argh!

Jaune once again found himself on the floor. His vision swam from the impact of the shadow hand that slammed him into the stone-work floor.

Salem: You are rather dim witted aren't you. You can not escape me. You can not evade me, and you will never be able to defeat me!

Jaune: I'll... I'll... nev... URK!

Salem: Silence!

Jaune's head thrashed about as a shadow hand clamped down over his mouth cutting off his voice. His eyes grew wide as he watched Salem draw the sharp blade along the pale flesh of her palm. Black blood welled up from the wound. Thick and viscous it dripped into the bowl.

Salem: With in my blood, resides the key to accessing powers far greater than your pathetic semblances and useless technology.

The wound upon her palm closed without an indication that the pale flesh had ever been slit open. With a cruel and malicious grin curling her lips, Salem picked up the bowl.

Salem: If you are of my line... you should survive this... though if you survive or not... it will be a rather agony filled experience for you...

[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:

@neenieweenie

@hampterfae

@american-idiot-jpg

@lunalixya

@roo024

@unholycheesesnack

@paastaboi

@lbee13

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

While I’d love to hear six hours of discussion, perhaps we can hear your top 10 reasons you like Ironwood? Don’t want you to lose your voice after all my fellow Dadmiral friendo

Look I stream for 6 hours straight some days but that’s beside the point lolz. Also sorry this took so long. Life has been a thing.

1. James feels…human. I know the point of characters in stories is to make them feel alive and to immerse you into the world I know. But stay with me there are just little details like James adjusting his tie and little laughs at R/WBY’s antics that just make him feel more real.

2. James is strong. And not just in the physical sense but the emotional one. Between him in volume 3 holding it together despite the world falling apart around him and him taking on all of Atlas and Mantles hatred and vitriol while trying to protect them is incredible. Everyone hates him despite him trying his best and it’s both incredible and heartbreaking to see.

3. James is compassionate. I am not even slightly referring to volume 8 that bullshit is not canon at all just no. After watching Yang with his own eyes break (who he thought) was an innocent students leg unprovoked after the match ended and his aura was down, he believed her when she said she saw him attack first. He assumed the best of her even when all evidence showed that she was being malicious. Or in volume 4 when Weiss accidentally summoned a Grimm that attacked someone, he stood up for her or after Ruby failed to stop Cinder in volume 3 (? Or 2 can’t remember for sure) and he told her she did well and she took action which is what huntresses do. He is strict but he shows kindness to people.

4. He’s kind of silly sometimes. He’s normally very strict so it makes his funny moments stand out more. Like when he laughs when the girls admit they stole an airship or when he grins at Winters comment about how he couldn’t pay her to smile for the cameras.

5. He’s not a good public speaker. Now I can hear you say “but wait, he speaks publically all the time and while yes he does, he also does the equivalent of error 404 when things don’t go exactly as he mentally prepared beforehand and we see this in volume 7.

When the girls don’t react at all to his announcement that they’re all huntresses now he just freezes because this man needs to preplan everything and he did not have a plan b prepared and panics and it’s so relatable I adore it so much.

6. He’s awkward. While similar to the last point, people can suck at public speaking and still be able to converse well with people in a smaller setting but sometimes James seems to even be a little awkward even in less formal moments.

7. In early volumes he was allowed to make mistakes and still be a good person. I like it when characters are allowed to make a mistake and still be seen as a good guy. People make mistakes and screw up but that doesn’t make said person evil. Sometimes we can’t fix something or stop a bad thing from happening or even make a decision that winds up causing more problems. But the intention of the decision is the important thing. James wanted to protect people in volumes 2 and 3 so he brought his army because he had a feeling Salem was up to something. Cinder used said army to cause even more chaos but at the time the narrative refused to demonize him for this and allowed people to understand what his intentions were. That’s way more compelling than the narrative twisting itself to try and somehow prove the mains are always correct and never make mistakes. Learning and growing make stories interesting.

8. James is willing to make the tough decisions. Time and time again we see James making really difficult calls to try and navigate a war that most people don’t even know they’re fighting. He makes the plans to transfer Ambers Aura to keep it from Cinder. He pulled his armies from the other kingdoms to try and maintain peace, he decided to focus on Amity instead of the wall to try and restore global communication, he decided to try and save who he could when he was put between a rock and a hard place. He made the tough calls and stuck by his decision and that is admirable.

9. James trusts people. After James’s talk with Glynda she took his advice to heart and was more open and honest with people. When Winter tells him something is going on at Haven, he takes her word for it. When Ruby and co lie to his face he trusts their word. He trusts Yang when she says she saw Mercury attack her first during the Vytal Festival. (Despite what the narrative tries to tell us) James gives people the benefit of the doubt and is willing to trust people.

10. James is an incredible fighter even without a typical offensive Aura. Pretty self explanatory but James is able to go toe to toe with some dangerous adversaries and hold his own despite not having a special “super power” like everyone else does. Or even a special weapon really he kicks ass with just a pair of guns and that is so badass of him lolz.

And a bonus more meta point because I want to talk about this so there. But one thing I loved about Ruby and James’s volume 7 fallout is that we can see exactly how and why each of them made the decision they did during that breakdown. On one had we have Ruby who is full of hope still and sees the best in the world. She lost her friends and is still dealing with the trauma of that and doesn’t want to ever lose anyone else again or let people suffer a loss like she did during the fall of Beacon. On the other we have James who is equally traumatized from Beacon but in a very different way. He did his best to fight back against Salem and it was in the end used against him and caused even more pain and suffering. He’s terrified of going toe to toe against Salem again and wants to protect what he knows he can until he knows they are able to take on Salem. It’s realistic and painful and neither side is really a perfect option. It’s a bad situation and we can see how the characters respond to it and it feels in character and real and I wish that we got to see that writing continue into volume 9.

Sorry again for how long this one took! As I said life’s been all over the place and chaotic and it still is but I got a burst of motivation so I decided to finally type this out.