#why is there a scary child threatening me?

[goodolddumbbanana]

Starting to see why Dark sun wants our sun to go evil or just kill moon he knows he can do a better job than whatever nexus is trying to do like I want to find nexus intimidating but all I can think of whenever he interacts with anyone is man if sun was evil he would get shit done

Like... Dude... Why are you like that? Even Sun has said this term for Nexus.

That dude so sucks at being evil and intimidated. Like, I have a little high hopes when I saw him tortured Moon and Nexus.

It was so intense, so brutal.

But then he had to come at Sun and do the whole 'Look at me, I am evil and emo now.'

And my hopes just straight up dying.

He couldn't make a good comeback. Or threat. He is like a child, who throws his tantrums at his brother for the things his older brother didn't do but get actively blamed for. He just wants an excuse. He let Sun, the one who literally too kind to actually do anything, run off him and not even make Sun scared for his life.

Sun has made threats before. He threatened Monty, Catnap, Puppet, Mikuo, Lunar, Creator.... And honestly it is terrified.

"Think very carefully about what you are going to say next."

"I am not trying to beg you. I am threatening you."

Sun is a good person, but even him know how to carve the knife in the deepest.

I mean, he makes Eclipse speechless.

It's actually kinda awesome if we can see Sun become more scary. He is so good at being bad guys if he lets loose :(

[samwilson-official]

So you are the guy who's been talking shit about my boyfriend.

I don't think so? Not in my universe at least //I don't think I've watched that far, lol//

[ectoplasmer]

voicing how I get insecure over the fact that I can’t handle horror as well as the bakurae can because i’m a wimp and having a 50/50 chance of being met with a response like “oh no that’s fine!! that just means you’re more sane than me” or “you haven’t seen nor experienced nearly the amount things I have but yes you are a wimp”

[pennjammin]

your panties scare me, can i take them off?

pov. you got new halloween panties/pajamas and he’s about to lose his mind.

content: implied smut, breath play (toji), virgin!choso, sexual content (MDI), husband!nanami, breeding kink (nanami), roommate!gojo, afab!reader

incl pairings: choso, nanami, gojo, toji

word count. 2.1k

soundtrack 💿🌧️: sex on sight ft. usher

Choso.

"Mmh..."

You lay on the bed, entangled in burly arms and the scent of aftershave. Your boyfriend is attacking you in sloppy kisses, all down your neck and jaw, as screams beam out of the TV from the horror movie you'd stopped watching about ten minutes ago.

His hand roams dangerously over your side while your nails dig into his back for stability. The two of you have yet to take things as far as penetration, so it’s all you can do to fight back the urge to whip his cock out and plop down on it.

You wonder if tonight things are going to finally change, as you feel your panties grow damper, and Choso's cock digging into your stomach through his sweats.

"Why do we always do this?" Choso breathes. “We start a movie we can't even finish."

You laugh against him before it melts into a moan at the reminder of his wet lips. "Because I don’t like scary movies, Cho. ‘M so afraid.”

Choso grunts against your skin, "Really? How can i make you feel better?”

You huff and roll onto your back. Choso doesn't waste any time climbing over you, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You can start by taking my shorts off,” you instruct, eyes filled with lust as you stare up at your ebony-haired partner.

He pauses his kisses to look down at you in surprise. "Y-You want to...?"

"Yes," you nod, biting your lip. “Don’t y’wanna comfort me from the scary monsters on the TV?”

Choso nods eagerly, and his big hands come up to your waistband to begin pulling down your shorts. As the material slides over your thighs, he pauses and stares with furrowed brows, right at your underwear.

"Um, baby?" he cocks his head to the side. "Who is... V.S.?"

You let out an exasperated breath before smiling. "That stands for Victoria's Secret, Cho. It's a lingerie brand."

His eyes bulge and he looks back up at you, "Lingerie?"

He continues to slide the shorts all the way off, to reveal your blood red thong with a tiny white ghost on the front. You suspect the ghost is supposed to look like a glob of cum, and you imagine Choso’s in its place.

"Oh fuck," he breathes, "you wore these f'me?"

"Who else, Cho?" you run your hands over your stomach seductively, patting the top of the thong. "You like?”

Choso's eyes flash white, and he hooks his fingers over the skinny string that keeps the thong around your waist.

"Shit, I..." he swallows thickly. "Love them. You have more like this?”

You nod confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you see them one at a time.”

You wink and Choso’s nervous hands remain entangled in the strings of your thong. “What if I can’t please you?”

"Not possible," you shake your head, running your hands into his hair, grateful he’d taken it out of its pigtails for his shower. "I nearly cum every time we make out."

His eyes widen. "Oh, so it's not just me," he breathes out in relief.

You giggle and spread your legs a little more, your lips threatening to pop right out of the terribly small pair of panties.

A girl shrieks on the TV and there is the sound of a slashing knife.

You fake a shiver, "Oh, Cho! I'm so afraid. Mmh, hurry and make me feel better.”

Choso smirks and rips down your panties, knowing that the neighbors are going to think someone is really being murdered by the time he’s done with you.

Nanami.

"Excuse me, my love."

You turn in place to see your husband, standing in the doorframe of the bathroom as you brush your teeth.

"Hmph, yes?" you mumble around your toothbrush, your face heating in the same way it always does when you see him, no matter how long you’ve been together.

Nanami stands awkwardly in the doorframe, shifting his weight like a nervous child. He's in his own version of pajamas: a white shirt, plaid pants, and house shoes. His hand raises and he points to your legs.

"When did you acquire those?" he asks delicately, referring to the tiny orange shorts you have on that are patterned in bats.

"The shorts?" you mumble, before removing your toothbrush and spitting out the toothpaste. "Um, I got them yesterday while costume shopping with the kids. Why?"

Nanami laces his fingers together. "I just thought I'd seen all of your clothes, because you always try them on for me. You didn't..." he inhales a ragged breath. "You didn't show me these. Is there a reason?"

You nearly feel your heart shatter through your ribcage. Nanami clearly looks distraught that you failed to give him a fashion show. At the same time, you notice his pajama pants growing a friendly tent in them, and you suspect you know the real reason he is upset.

"I... wanted it to be a surprise, Ken," you say, pat drying your mouth on a washcloth, before walking towards him, all minty and shower fresh.

"A surprise?" Nanami questions, visibly getting tense as you approach.

"Mhmm..." you tiptoe your fingers up his arm and over his shoulder. "You like them?"

"That's a very loaded question," Nanami mutters. "I like anything you wear."

"But these seem to be having a different effect on you, honey," you coo, tilting your head to the side, resting your hand on the back of his neck - his sweet spot.

You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yes," he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. "They’re really… small. And we, you know, can’t do things as often anymore with the baby… I just miss you.”

You sigh, relaxing under his touch. “Right. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Nanami lets out a feral noise. "No, I’m not. I feel like a horny teenager. Just need you really bad.”

“I haven’t seen you this desperate in a while, honey,” you say, taking a step back, letting your hands fall off of each other. "Go ahead. Take them off.”

Nanami doesn't hesitate. His big hands gently peel down the waistband, and he bites his lip as he examines what’s underneath.

"You're not wearing underwear," he realizes with a breath. “Gonna make me lose myself here, Y/N.”

"Well, I was thinking..." you cock your head to the side. "One more baby wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Nanami's eyes grow a bit larger. “D-don’t say that.”

“Know you’ve been trying so hard not to finish in me,” you coo, “but don’t you miss it?”

“Y/N…” his knuckles go white as he nearly rips the material of your little shorts. “We really shouldn’t.”

"No, but ngh..." you roll your hips under his hands. "Wouldn't it be fun to see how feral we can get?"

"I am already ‘feral’ just looking at these shorts, Y/N." Nanami nearly whines, his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, waiting for you to give him the word.

"Really," you whisper on his neck, planting a kiss there soon after. "That was easier than I thought.”

Nanami sighs against you. "Why are you so good at this, hm, little minx?"

You smile against his skin, "Why are my shorts still on, Kento?"

Nanami growls, all guttural and primal instinct, and your back is crashing against the counter in an instant.

You bite your lip, "Eager?” you question.

"You have no idea." He hums as he slides down the orange garment, staring at them. "Did you buy any more?”

"Maybe," you say quietly, blinking as you try to picture what he's going to do to you next.

"Good," he parts your legs and stands between them before using his thick hands to open your mouth and shove the shorts right inside of it. “We’ll need these so we don’t wake the baby.”

Gojo.

"You wanna be me so fucking bad!"

You spin slowly in place, holding a piece of popcorn only halfway to your mouth. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Your eyes land on your roommate's bottoms, a plush pair of Friday-the-13th pajama pants. They are exactly like the boy shorts you’re wearing, the ones that have ridden up and cover basically nothing.

"If you wanted to match, you could've just said that," Gojo huffs, crossing his arms.

You raise your eyebrow, "I’ve had these for a long time. You're the one who wants to be like me."

Gojo scoffs. "Why haven’t I ever seen them, then?" He shoves his hands in his pockets. “And au contraire, madamoiselle, I want to be in you. Huuuge difference there.”

You cough a bit, choking on nothing, unable to respond.

"Of course, choking on my cock could definitely work too," Gojo mutters, examining his nails. "Maybe teach you a lesson about walking around in just your panties."

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard to deny the fluttery feeling in your stomach just from his words. "Please, like I've never done this before."

"And every time you have, you end up bent over, begging for me to take it easier, don't you?" He cocks his head to the side and lets his eyes slither down your body like a snake of temptation.

You bite your lip. "So it’s my fault that you have no self control?”

Gojo nods his head. "Yes, maybe I just wanted to have a nice, relaxing Halloween game night with you... but now you've got me so worked up."

You tap your chin. "You wanted to spend time with me that doesn't involve sex? Seems a little out of character, don't you think?"

Gojo stalks towards you, long feathery strides until he's towering over your frame, eyes threatening to sear your clothes right off of you.

"Oh, you can't get any denser, can you?" he questions. "This sick little arrangement we have, teasing each other and fucking on every surface in the house isn't what I want." He pauses. "I mean, yes, but it's more than that."

You blink up at him. "What else could you possibly want?"

Gojo sighs, and slowly wraps his arms around you in a cinnamon-scented bear hug. "I want to contact you about your car's extended warranty."

"SATORU!" you screech, hitting him on the chest as he bursts into laughter.

"I'm joking, you know that I can't take shit seriously," he runs his fingers through his hair. “For fuck sake, I want a relationship with you, okay? Do I need to spell it out on the lawn?"

"Yes, actually," you tease, sitting your popcorn bucket down and running your buttery hands over his chest. "You want to be with me?"

"Your pussy's too good to let anyone else have you," he hums, leaning forward and kissing your neck.

"You're so annoying," you grit, but you can't help but melt into his touch and kisses.

He chuckles against you but doesn’t respond.

Gojo pulls his head out of your neck and leans towards you, lips parted in expectancy.

Your eyes flutter closed just as your mouths collide, this kiss feeling different than the hundreds that had come before it. You lean into him and grab the drawstring of his pajamas, while his fingers are also subconsciously twisting into your boy shorts.

"Mmh, can't get enough of you," Gojo mumbles against your mouth.

You giggle. "Good thing I'm yours now. There's plenty of time to reach all of me."

He breaks away from you and stares down in astonishment. "Really?"

You nod, tugging him closer by his pants. "So, about that game night..."

"Eh, it can wait, we have some celebrating to do." He grins, and before you know it you're being lifted swiftly into the air, hauled over his shoulder with your ass next to his face, as he pops a crack on the soft skin there. "And don't you ever wear these without warning me again."

Toji.

“Why are you hovering? I said sit.”

Your boyfriend is obsessed with you sitting on his face, suffocating him with your cunt and juices, this is nothing new. But this time, he wants to try something a bit more deranged.

You’d just been trying to show him your new panties and matching socks, honest. You may have also been wearing one of his shirts, and this was absolutely his weakness, and you absolutely knew that.

“My shirt, baby?” he’d cooed, pulling you into a hug and planting soft kisses on your face. “New panties too? You spoil me.”

It wouldn’t be long before he was lifting you up, effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying down on it. Then, before you had the chance to squirm or run, he was gripping your sides and lifting you over his face, where you caught your weight with your knees.

“Toji, they’re still on,” you mumble, his hands gliding up your sides to hike up his shirt. He stares directly between your legs which causes your clit to twitch.

“So?” he questions from below.

Thick hands mash into the crease of your hips, forcing your weight to fall down on his wide nose and full lips.

Your face turns the color of beets, but you ultimately have no time to be embarrassed as Toji locks his arms around your thighs.

His eyes have fluttered closed, and you can feel his shuddering breath through the cloth as he takes in your scent.

Your hands are on the headboard for stability, looking down at him, feeling your panties grow damper as he wiggles his face around, nose brushing your clit.

“Toji approved,” he says suddenly, before you feel his fat, warm tongue slide along the material of the panties, and your body lurches.

“Wh-What…?”

“I can still eat you through your panties,” he huffs, eyes popping open and catching you staring down at him. “This was the plan all along, puss.”

Your thighs shudder on either side of his head. “You’re not serious.”

“As a heart attack, baby,” he mumbles, before flicking his tongue over the cloth again, nose massaging your clit, hands burying deeper into your skin. It’s all so much, you moan and rotate your hips over him.

“Wh-what made you want to try this?” you ask, biting your lip as he tugs on the material with his teeth, taking in another animalistic sniff.

“You looked so proud to show them off,” Toji grunts. “It’s a shame that they were only going to end up on the floor, huh?”

You have to agree. You’d stopped buying lingerie long ago because it would never last more than a few seconds around Toji, but you figured a new pair of panties couldn’t hurt. You just hadn’t expected this reaction out of him.

Besides, you can’t deny how good it feels to dry hump his face, there only being a thin barrier between your folds and his wet tongue, making it all the more a tease.

From then on, it became a regular tradition for Toji to “approve” your new holiday panties - but of course, the halloween ones remained his favorite.

A/N:

im sorry for pumping out these shitty short ones but im just trying to keep yall fed while we wait for the long ones ^.^

~pennjammin

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[paperbackribs]

update: 🐺werewolf Steve, 🦇bat Eddie completed on Ao3 here

How to survive a werewolf attack, Eddie mentally repeats to himself in a determinedly bright manner, channelling every nature documentary he’s ignored. His resolve does little to quiet the jolt of fear that had run through him as it turned into— that.

“How to survive a werewolf attack,” Eddie mutters to himself as it pads one giant paw towards him in the middle of Steve’s living room, hoping that speaking aloud will clear the bees buzzing in his brain, focusing all his thoughts in one direction: he should run.

“How the fuck do I survive a werewolf attack?” Eddie frantically yells at Dustin standing by the couch, grinning a gummy smile back at him with his hands casually thrown in his pockets.

The wolf growls lightly at his tone and Eddie’s head snaps back, alarmed that he’d allowed himself to look away from those intent yellow eyes for even a moment. But as scary as the predatory look is, the size of its head is just as terrifying. As large as Eddie’s torso with a wide, fanged mouth to match. Faintly, Eddie mentally compares one long tooth to the length of his hand.

This is how he dies Eddie realises with a thumping heart.

Not the bats.

Not Vecna.

No, a giant, golden mahogany werewolf nearly as tall as his fully grown adult body is going to open that massive mouth and swallow him down whole.

The beast stops, gaze narrowing to the pulse pounding in Eddie’s neck and he quickly slaps a hand over it, trying to limit the temptation of the tasty blood slash fresh meat vibe he must be giving off. It sits back on its heels; a movement Eddie feels shudder through the carpet at his feet and turns its head to Robin with a slight whine.

She scowls at Eddie, stepping forward to bury her hand comfortingly into the plush at its furry neck. “Don’t listen to him, Steve. He’s just being a big baby.” Shifting her fingers to scratch under its ears, the werewolf—Steve, Eddie hastily corrects himself as Robin continues to glare at him—half-closes its eyes in bliss. Though, he notes that it—he—still keeps his gaze steadily trained on Eddie.

Swallowing, Eddie tries to remember what they had just been talking about, but it’s lost in the chaotic whirlwind of his thoughts and the adrenalin urging his heels back. All of it consumed by the conviction that Eddie is prey in front of predator and about to be fed to what used to be Steve Harrington.

“Oh my god,” he moans, hands coming up to pull his hair down to hide behind, “Am I a sacrifice?”

Lucas sighs in exasperation, “I told you we should’ve showed him photos or something first.” Max makes a derisive sound and sits cross-legged next to Steve’s wide chest; he gently leans against her with a small thump of his tail. “He was always going to freak out, may as well get it over with.”

Eddie would really like to get the small child away from the massive beast right now; despite the fact that Max is a sophomore and would likely rip him a new one at even the suggestion. But it does help, seeing her casually play with the fur under her hand, and the bees die down a little, just enough to remember why they had called him here.

“You wanted to show me this—” Max squints at him and Eddie changes tack “—show me Steve turning into a wolf because you’re concerned about me.” The ridiculousness of it strikes through him, bubbling over into half-hysterical laughter. “Shouldn’t you be worried about the massive fucking fangs near Max’s head right now.”

The wolf lets out a gusty sound that Eddie can only imagine is a sigh and thumps onto his belly, stretching his head out to rest on crossed-over paws as big as dinner plates. The position should look less threatening, but all Eddie can see is how the jaw of the creature has been thrown into sharp relief, emphasising how far it could probably unhinge if given an incentive. He slaps his hand back over his pulsing neck again.

El appears by his side and he nearly jumps a foot, not having noticed her approach while focusing so fiercely on the wolf. She takes his hand, gently saying, “It is okay, Eddie. He’s only Steve and he would never hurt you.”

He keeps a hold of her hand. The Steve he’s come to know since Spring Break has seemed like a pretty good dude, sure; but, the one thing he does know, is that the guy would take a bullet for every kid in this room.

It's not cowardice to hide behind a kid, he reassures himself. Not when the kid isn’t in any danger. Max shoots him a dark look again and he suspects that she’s seen through his intentions. He clears his throat, focussing on El’s kind and reassuring squeeze of his hand, “Right. Why is Steve a werewolf?”

“Good question,” the bill of Dustin’s hat bobs in his approval, “Back in ’84 we were in these tunnels, you see and —”

“Short version, Dustin,” Robin interrupts, which is frankly ironic of her Eddie thinks, knowing she falls into extended explanations herself.

Dustin screws up his face, but condenses the story, “We were attacked by dog versions of the demogorgons and since then Steve has gone all furry whenever he wants.” He waves a hand at the prostrate wolf who continues to placidly watch their conversation, “I see where you went with werewolf but technically, he’s not forced to turn at a full moon.”

Will exchanges a look with Mike as they lean against the opposite wall, “Not technically, no. But he does get weird around it.” El tugs him to sit down with her and Max, but Eddie lets go of her hand, unwilling to let cede the high ground when it’s the only thing keeping his feet ready to run if Steve decides to demonstrate how weird he can get.

“Shouldn’t he have…” Eddie waves a hand over his face with a splaying motion of his fingers. He hasn’t seen a demogorgon yet, but the kids had described them to him, and the demo-bats apparently had the same set-up of gaping maws exploding like a fanged cross over their face.

“Another great question, Eddie,” Max rolls her eyes, “Let me just consult my instruction manual on the Upside Down and get back to you.”

“It’s a fair question, Max,” Lucas says softly and she relents, “Yeah, but he looks like he’s about to throw up and Steve would hate the mess.” The wolf snorts and nudges her with his muzzle; she lightly strokes the top of his nose with a responding smile.

“Our best guess is that the demo-dogs and demo-bats are a weird mix of actual animal and Upside Down creepiness,” Robin says, letting go of Steve to sit on the couch behind him, “And Steve got infected with the actual animal part but the woo-woo creepiness is what helps him turn into the wolf.”

Eddie’s guts turn to liquid, and he hovers suddenly uncertain hands over his body; right beside the areas still scarred from his own demo-bat bites. “Wait a second,” he rasps, “Steve got bit by the dog version and he turns into this. So if I got bit by the bat versions…”

“That’s why we’re telling you,” Lucas explains frankly, “It didn’t happen straight away with Steve so we thought that you should have a heads up at the very least.” Dustin gestures down Eddie’s body with a demanding hand, “And you can tell us if you notice any weird changes.”

“What?” Eddie asks a little wildly, “Like if my voice drops and I get hair in new and wonderful places?” Robin and Dustin exchange worried glances and the latter falls back on a soothing tone that he hasn’t managed since cornering Eddie in the boathouse while he was on the run, “There’s no guarantee that you were infected…” Robin winces at the word choice as Eddie’s eyes widen. “…but you should tell us if you notice anything different, just in case.”

Eddie wants to collapse onto the floor. Just crouch there with his hands pressed comfortingly against his eyes to shut out the insanity this afternoon has turned into. But eyeing how close Steve with his monster fangs is, Eddie refuses to get any closer. He may as well lay on his back and strip for good measure. That way Steve won’t get any denim stuck in his teeth; he thinks the last thought with a small hiccup.

The massive head raises and turns to look over its—his—shoulder with a questioning whine. Robin’s faces hardens slightly, and her arms come up to cross over her chest. “You go for a run or something, I’ve got this.”

Eddie watches those tree trunks for legs rise and feels something quake inside, doing nothing for his pounding pulse that had only just started to subside. Steve looks back at him one more time before licking Dustin’s hand and butting his head against Robin’s knee to trot through the living room towards the backyard.

Chapter 1

[vaspider]

Feisty Lady Anger and other things about me you hate

My mother prizes her anger, for all that she doesn't express it openly. I tell stories about her spiteful, steel-spined responses to people who told her, "You can't do that," and I point to them as Why I Am How I Am. Her father told her he wouldn't pay for her college because "women only go to earn the MRS degree," and she could "get married and have babies" without college. In response, Mom got her bachelor's in Mathematics in 1970 on her own dime, back in the days when in-state students didn't pay tuition at state schools (just another thing Reagan ruined). She worked and paid for her books and housing, got her degree, paid for her own wedding because he wouldn't do that either. Taught school, got her Master's, had three kids, started her Ph.D. with 3 under 6 and became a professor when the youngest was 5.

Tell me I can't, my mom told the world, and I'll show you that I can. I won't just do it, I'll become a department head and a Distinguished Professor and retire after 30 years of teaching other math teachers with a list of achievements as long as my arm.

There is an anger that runs deep in the women in my family. Tell me I can't, and I'll show you I can. Show me injustice and I'll tear at it with my teeth and hands, staring you down while I do. Backwards and in heels.

I can't tell you the moment I crossed out of Feisty Lady Anger in the eyes of the people close to me, but I can tell you the moment I noticed. Maybe it was when my voice started dropping or the growing muscles on my shoulders pulled my stance more square and upright. Maybe it was when I moved from they/them to he/they, and somehow I stepped from Diet Woman to Too Close To Man in their eyes.

It's a funny thing when all of a sudden your anger becomes real enough to be startling to people. Your anger is no longer feisty, charming, and attractive. This thing that people liked about you, that people who say they love you said they loved about you, suddenly becomes frightening, upsetting, and terrible. The way you didn't let people mow over you and fought back used to be a thing that people admired. It was actively attractive. It was one of your best qualities.

Now? It's ugly. It's disgusting. It's scary. The thing you were is gone, and now your anger is real to them.

It's in that moment that the blade cuts back towards you. You realize the reason your squared shoulders and set jaw drew people in couldn't be squared with the stubble on that jaw or the newfound strength in your arms. Feisty Lady Anger isn't real, not in the way a man's anger is real. Feisty Lady Anger is admirable, sure, but it is admirable because of its essential ineffectual nature. At most, Feisty Lady Anger fixes minor problems for the kids at school, gets the principal to back down from scolding your child when she politely asks the kid calling her a faggot on the bus if he knows what that really means, pushes a woman to achieve for her family, in appropriately neutered ways.

When you stop pretending to be a woman and become who you really are, when your anger becomes real, you realize both that the thing about you that people loved is gone and that this thing was attractive in the first place because of its ineffectiveness. Your anger wasn't scary because it wasn't real enough to be threatening.

Now you have Man Anger, and, you're told, you should apologize for that. It doesn't matter if it's the same anger you've always had, or that you're angry about the same things. It comes now in baritone, with belly hair and bellowing, and now it's both real and disgusting.

The worst part is watching it come from people you thought should know better, the people who should understand. You spent nearly 40 years being told to sit down and shut up because the men in your professional career were speaking, assured that if you just waited your turn, you'd be given a place to speak eventually, and now here you are being told within a community that claims to love and understand you, by people that claim to be in community with you and love who you are, that you actually don't have any real problems to speak about, also your Man Anger and Man Privilege (when do I get that, please?) are Scary and mean you should sit down and wait, and you'll be given a place to speak eventually.

It is the Transmasculine Catch-22: if you become Man Enough to no longer fit into Almost Lady, your anger becomes Real, which makes you realize that your anger wasn't Real before, but because it's Real now, you're not allowed to have it. And by the way, you're not allowed to be neither Man or Lady - now you're Man Enough, and that makes it all the more clear how you were simply Kirkland Signature Lady right up until the point you weren't.

There will be a few people who Fucking Get It, who don't see you as either a Failed Lady or a Broken Man, and you'll love those people all the more for their rarity. It won't take the sting out of realizing that the things people you love loved about you before now disgust and repel them, but it'll make it enough to keep going.

You couldn't stop, anyway. You've never felt more yourself, and the people who don't love you, the actual you, the real you... the loss of that hurts, but not nearly as much as the idea of pretending to be something else did.

[arcadia345]

Astro notes💋🥀

Just my observations :)🔞

♡ Scorpio mercury or degree is the definition of elephant in the room, it’s like they try their best to make you uncomfortable with their words , on the brighter side I love how deep their minds are

♡Saturn in the 6th/2nd could go a long time without eating and not even notice

♡ One of my friends had a baby today(Aries moon) and she’s already threatening people not to play with her child💀 cute tho

♡ I feel like the only Libra placement that doesn’t try to be likable is Libra moons, their personality is so lovely for the most part☺️ I’ve only met men with this placement and WHEW they are sooooooo charming🥴

♡ I’ve noticed guys with Venus conjunct their sun can come off a little ✨ even if they’re not they’re just in touch with their feminine side. Also guys with Venus conjunct moon could have this energy as well just more subtle

♡ Aquarius in 7th will always give black sheep energy, no matter how “popular” they are it’s always something that differentiates them from everyone else, could be known for doing questionable things

♡ Taurus season I see lots of people getting lip piercings but lots of new tats and piercings in general

♡ 11th house has to do with hopes and dreams, mars is your passion and drive, having mars in 11th synastry with someone with someone could mean having fantasy’s about them,being fwb, or being friends with someone but wanting to be more. Me and my friend both have this synastry and the tension is HIGH especially with her Jupiter conjunction to my mars🥴

♡It’s not surprise Saturn babies look soo good in slicked back hairstyles since it rules hair and restrictions

♡Also they weren’t joking when they said prominent Saturn placements could make you a pothead😳 I thought I was a smoker but whew they SMOKE 💨

♡ Aries moon moms are so PUSHY. They’re always trying to dictate your emotions like your not your own human then get insecure when you cut contact with them. And she never takes your emotions seriously till you act out of character, It’s like she never wants you to rest so draining. Also they can be intimidating/scary in a way especially from the stories the Aries moon child shares about them😅 did they lie tho?

♡ Scorpio moons could also resonate but I feel like with Aries moms(sidereal Pisces moon)there’s a innocence to it like they truly don’t recognize their toxic traits until you confront them about it but with Scorpio moon’s mom (sidereal Libra moon) they KNOW exactly what they’re doing when they manipulate. And other people could easily alter ur mother’s perception of you, very wishywashy. They type to be jealous of their kids especially if they have a daughter

♡ Chiron in 12th could get accused of things they didn’t do allll the time , it gets to a point where they don’t even try to defend themselves anymore cause it’s like no one listens why waste your energy 😭 a good example is Micheal Jackson

♡ Gemini moon children have moms that don’t hold back🥴 very blunt especially with some Aries energy added

♡ I giggle every time I remember Park Jimin has a Gemini moon I just know he has the best comebacks and inside jokes😂 (Jimin if you’re seeing this let’s be friends plz😆)

♡ I’ve noticed with Virgo moons children may see one parent more fit to be a parent than the other at some point in their life. Doesn’t mean the other is a shitty parent or anything but if they had to decide to live with one of them they’ll already know who😹

♡ Also Virgo placements why do y’all constantly complain about something you could easily solve? I see this more in undeveloped Virgo placements

♡ Leo moon children could have mothers that are selfish in one way or another, wheither it be their time, money, or love

♡Jupiter in 3rd (natal and transit) what is home? I’ve been to so many places in my city that I didn’t know existed, I also got a 🍕 delivery job so I’m on the go all the time, but since my natal Jupiter is in my 8th it’s kinda a darker transit for me- I literally hit and ran two people in counting 😭 (I’m not even a bad driver they happened on the same week!🙄) communication especially over the phone has been vile omg the amount of times I’ve been cussed out by strangers otp is crazy. Also I’ve lost old friends /gained new one

That’s all for now💋

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Hi! You know that inexperienced smut prompts that you reblogged? Could I request you a smut based on them pls? It would be a Kit Walker x fem reader smut based off prompts 14, 16 and 32 if possible... thanks! :)

of course!! i worked on this all day so i hope you enjoy :)) let me know what you think!

prompts:

14. “You’ve never even touched yourself?”

16. “What do you like?” “I don’t know.” “Then how about we find out together?”

32. “Is it going to hurt?”

~~~

Love in the Darkness

Kit Walker x f!reader

warnings: smut, soft dom kit, oral female receiving, slight fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), slight mentions of murder / stalking, loss of virginity, slight innocence kink if you squint hard enough, very minor drinking, i think that’s it but as always lmk if i forgot any!!!

summary: you never thought in a million years you’d fall in love with a murderer, but here we are.

word count: 3.6k

~~~

You were remanded to Briarcliff for what the doctors called “female hysteria”. But you weren’t hysterical, not even close. All you had done to get thrown in was get into a few fights with men who wouldn’t leave you alone. Stalkers, potential rapists, followed you around, not accepting your constant rejection. It wasn’t fair that you were punished for simply not wanting to be sexually harassed, but it was never fair for women. You’d known since you were a child that being a woman in this world catered to men would be difficult, but you never imagined it would be this difficult.

After being admitted to the asylum, you lost hope in all men, and most women. All the nuns besides Sister Mary Euinice treated you awful. They constantly berated you, telling you every day that you should be a more respectful young woman, that you should be flattered by the attention you get from men. It made you sick. But what made you angrier than anything though is how they called you “unclean” as if the whole situation was your fault. In the beginning you tried to explain to them that those dirty men were the unclean ones, but all that did was make them punish you more. So, you decided not to fight them anymore and take what they dished out.

When you were admitted you knew about Bloody Face. You knew you were going to be in the same place as him. You were scared at first. You knew the rumors, heard the news of what he did to those poor women. It gave you flashbacks to when those men stalked you. You considered yourself lucky that Bloody Face had already been caught, because if it were him following you, you’d be dead.

You were certainly surprised when you saw him for the first time. It was in the common room. You were sitting on one of the couches, trying your best to read a magazine while your fellow inmates did whatever it was, they do. Bloody Face walked in and immediately your eyes were drawn to him. He was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. You were surprised at how handsome he was. You always imagined him as a large scary looking man, but he was quite the opposite. His real name was Kit Walker. He claimed to be innocent of all charges. You avoided him as best as you could.

One day though, you were placed on kitchen duty with him. You were frightened by him at first, worried he was going to bash your head against the metal tables until your brains oozed out. But all he did was silently separate the bread dough. His stance wasn’t threatening, but to be safe you stood on the opposite side of the table, the side closer to the door.

“I know you’re afraid of me,” he said out of the blue. His accent was thick, his voice soft.

You avoided his eye contact. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“If you aren’t afraid why are your hands shaking?” He asked. “Why are you standing all the way on the other side of the table?”

“Personal space,” you mumbled your answer.

Kit chuckled quietly, and it made you finally tear your eyes away from the dough that was in your hands. Your eyes met for the first time, and your heart beat began to quicken. What if this is his tactic? You thought. What if his charm and beauty is how he captures women?

“Perhaps I am wrong, I’ve heard you were locked up for attempting to kill a few upstanding guys.”

You shook your head. “That’s not true.”

“Really? Then what’s your side of the story?” He continued. By this point both of you had stopped working on the chore and instead stared at each other. It was far more interesting than working, you had to admit.

“They were trying to… force me to do things I didn’t want to do. I barely caused any harm, but they had more money than me so here I am,” you explained vaguely. “It wasn’t my fault.”

He chuckled; it made your eyebrows raise. “See, me and you aren’t too much different. Both of us were wrongly put in here.”

“You murdered and raped three women,” you said, looking back down at your hands.

“And you brutally tried to kill those men,” he replied.

You were about to reply, but the nuns entered and started to escort the two of you back to your rooms. That was the first time that you started to believe the innocence of Kit Walker.

~~~

As time began to pass and you and Kit were paired together more for chores you were convinced little by little of his innocence. It was the small things. Like how he would hold the door open for you, apologize if while the two of you spoke anything made you uncomfortable, and most importantly how he never questioned whether you were guilty or not.

Eventually, you found yourself becoming excited whenever the two of you spent time together. Kit was sweet, he was nothing at all like the horrible newspapers and radio reports made him out to be. He wasn’t crazy. In fact, he seemed to be the sanest person in Briarcliff besides yourself. You thought it was impossible, but you began to harbor feelings for “Bloody Face” and you found out one night he felt the same way for you.

It was movie night, the two of you snuck away to talk. You made it down to the kitchen without being caught, you were glad. For some reason you knew in your soul something different was going to happen on that night, and you were right. The two of you casually talked about what was happening with your plans to escape, but you noticed as you spoke Kit inched toward you, so slow that if you hadn’t been paying attention you wouldn’t have noticed.

“What are your plans if we succeed?” He asked.

You smile and lean back on one of the tables. “I want to go to the beach. Feel the sun on my skin again. It’s far too gloomy here, I’ve almost forgotten how it feels to be outside. What are your plans?”

“I suppose I’ll be going to the beach, since that’s where you will be,” he answered.

You feel your cheeks begin to burn. You look away and chuckle, you're nervous like the first time you ever spoke to him. But for a whole different reason. When you looked up at him again, he was barely a foot away from you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“You’d stay with me even after we get outta here?” You asked, your voice softer than before.

“I’d stay with you forever if you let me,” he replied. He reached forward and touched his knuckles to your cheek, brushing them so gently across your skin you can barely even feel it. You swore you couldn’t breathe. “I’ve never met anyone in my life that has as much of an effect on me as you do y/n. I can’t stay away from you.”

“Kit…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I understand if this is too much for you. I understand if I’m not enough for you, you are one special woman y/n. I just-”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence. You cut him off with your lips meeting his. He kissed you back as quick as he could, his hand now cupping your cheek. It was soft and sweet, everything you’d expected Kit would be like. After a few seconds he pulled back and looked down into your eyes, your knees felt weak at the look in his dark eyes.

“I think I’m in love with you,” you whispered. “No matter how odd that sounds it’s true. You’re the most caring man I’ve ever laid eyes on, I can’t help but want you.”

“I’ve wanted to hear that for so long. I am in love with you, and once we get outta here I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Kit declared.

Before you could reply, he leaned down and connected his lips to yours once again. You felt as though you had died and were already in heaven. Being with Kit made you have hope, he was light in that everlasting darkness of Briarcliff. You loved him, you really did. And as the two of you kissed you knew you’d do anything to one day get out and marry him.

The kiss moved fast and before you knew it Kit was starting to put his hands on you. Your body felt as though it were on fire. Every inch of skin that Kit touched became lit with the flame. He moved his hands along your waist, your arms, your back… you couldn’t get enough. But as he started to reach for your breasts you pulled away. He looked down at you, concern on his face.

“Sorry did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not. It’s just that well… I’ve never done anything like this before. That was my first kiss, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. We’ll take things slow all right? We’re gonna have all the time in the world,” he spoke. He was so sincere; it made your heart melt.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied with a smile.

Kit returned the smile. “But would you mind it if I kissed you again?”

“I’d like that too.”

~~~

In the weeks that followed, you and Kit spent as much time as you could together, along with Lana planning your escape. You and Kit were set on getting out. He promised the second the two of you were free he’d marry you. You loved the fantasy. You’d be married in secret and run off together, forgetting all about the terrible parts of your past. He’d buy you a house in a calm neighborhood and you’d raise his kids. It was all you wanted.

One night the two off you had managed to get a few minutes alone in one of the bathrooms. You were against the wall, Kit’s lips on yours. He cupped one of your breasts, while his other hand was dragging its way up your thigh. You try your hardest to keep quiet, but as he begins to trail his lips down your neck you can’t help yourself. You’ve never felt such pleasure in your life.

“Can I touch you baby?” He whispered against your skin. “But you gotta stay quiet.”

“I don’t know if I can, I’ve never been touched down there,” you admitted, your cheeks turning red.

Kit moved back and looked you in the eye. “Well, you know what it feels like from yourself, it’ll be just like that.”

“Well, that’s the thing I’ve never really done that.”

“You’ve never even touched yourself?”

You shook your head and Kit exhaled deeply. You began to feel ashamed; he must’ve thought you were a prude. You figured he knew what you were thinking though, because he touched your face softly and gave you a smile.

“You’re purer than any of the nuns in here,” he joked, earning a small laugh from you. “You’re perfect. I just wanna ask, what do you like? You know, in those ways.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt these feelings for another person, hell I don’t even really know how all of it works. The only thing I was taught as a girl was that sex is when a man puts his… in a woman,” you explained.

“Then how about we find out together? There are some other things I wanna do to you than that,” he replied. He looked out the window and back to you before speaking again. “We don’t have too much time left, but let me try something before we go. Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” you answered, and you meant it.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he mumbled.

You thought he was going to kiss you again, but instead he dropped to his knees. You were confused for a second. What was he doing? You then remembered the time you walked in on Shelley doing something to one of the guards. She was on her knees and his pants were down… she was using her mouth on him. That’s when it hit you. Kit was going to use his mouth on you.

He stuck his head under your gown and began to leave small kisses up your thigh. You covered your mouth with your hand and gasped. You’d never felt anything like it. He was quick with his motions, so quick you didn’t even have time to think. In a matter of seconds, he had pulled your panties down and spread your legs. You held in a breath and you felt his hitting your most sensitive spot.

Once his tongue made contact with your clit, that was it. You hit your head against the wall as you threw it back. His tongue was so warm, so soft. With every lick you felt electric shocks pulse throughout your body. You moaned into your hand, your legs becoming wobbly with each passing second. You’d never imagined that much pleasure was held between your legs. It was unearthly.

A wetness started to drip down your leg, but neither of you paid attention to it. You were too engulfed by the building sensation inside you, and Kit was too busy making it happen. You used your free hand to bunch up your gown, you wanted to see him. You didn’t expect him to already be looking up at you. The sight was one you never could have thought of. Kit’s dark eyes were locked on your own, you watched as he licked and kissed your clit. You were speechless.

“Kit, stop. I feel like I might pee,” you suddenly whispered. It was true, you did feel as though you were going to.

“You’re not going to pee, you’re going to cum,” he murmured. “Just let it happen.”

You were going to object, but that’s when you felt it. Your legs started to shake and you couldn’t stop the loud moan that left your lips. That was it, what you’d heard of through whispers. Your first orgasm. Kit didn’t stop for one second, in fact he sucked on your clit even harder. You felt your insides pulsating with pleasure, and by the time it was over you could barely stand.

Kit pulled your panties back up once you were finished and stood. You could see the glistening of your juices on his chin. He smiled and rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth.

“I want to do that every day,” he said. “You’re delicious.”

“Oh Kit,” you mumbled before pulling him in for a kiss.

~~~

The day you and Kit were freed from Briarcliff was the second-best day of your life. The best day of your life came only a week after being free. It was your wedding day. You and Kit traveled a few towns to get to the quickest courthouse. Even though it wasn’t a real wedding, and even though it only lasted an hour, you would never trade it for anything else.

After the ceremony was over and you were officially Mrs. Walker, Kit took you to a motel. You were nervous, but more so excited for what was to come. Like you were straight out of a movie Kit picked you up bridal style and carried you inside your room, the both of you full of joy and laughter.

Once inside, you realized Kit had made preparations. Rose petals were on the floor trailing up to the bed. Candles were lit all around the room. You looked at the dresser and saw two glass cups accompanied by a bottle of champagne. Your heart melted at the gesture.

“Would you like some champagne Mrs. Walker?” He asked after placing you on the bed.

“Champagne, so fancy. Of course, I would Mr. Walker,” you answered with a laugh.

He grabbed the bottle and popped the top off, pouring both of your glasses and bringing it to you. He sat next to you on the bed and took a sip, you did the same. After he finished his glass, he got up and turned on the radio. The soft melody eased your tension a bit.

“Are you happy?” Kit’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

He was standing in front of you by this point, you looked up at him and smiled again. “I’m happier than ever my love.”

“So why am I getting the feeling you’re anxious?”

“I dunno,” you spoke, you placed your cup on the bedside table. “Is it going to hurt?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about.” He sits beside you and takes one of your hands in his. “Don’t be nervous, it’s gonna be good. It might hurt a little, but don’t worry I’ll take good care of you.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank you, for being so patient with me. Not many guys like to wait nowadays.”

“I’d wait forever if that’s what you wanted y/n, don’t feel pressured to do this just cause it’s our wedding night. We don’t have to.”

“No, I want to do this I’m just a bit nervous that’s all. I trust you’ll be gentle with me and make it as good as it can be,” you said. You kick off your heels and slip the little headband with your veil of your head. “I promise I’m ready.”

“I’ll be very gentle,” Kit spoke before closing the gap between your lips.

He keeps that promise throughout the entire night, going only at your pace. First, he laid you back on the bed, undressing you slowly. You couldn’t hold in your laughter as he struggled to drag your garter down with his teeth and you couldn’t stop blushing when he starred at your nude body and called you the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Watching him undress himself made you clench your thighs together in anticipation. His body was perfect, his abdomen full of muscles clear as day. Up until this point neither of you had seen each other fully naked, and you were both glad you waited. After he was undressed, he crawled back on top of you and resumed his previous kisses. He kissed down your jaw, your neck, until he took one of your breasts in his mouth. You moaned, your hands weaving through his hair as he sucked your nipple. It was a sensation you’d never even thought of being so good.

When he was done with that he moved down between your thighs and didn’t wait a moment to begin his careful licks on your clit. Your back arched, your thighs clenched around his head, especially after he slowly started to thrust a finger inside you. It was the first time anything had been inside you, and it didn’t feel half bad. In fact, after a few minutes you began to enjoy the feeling. That’s when he added a second finger.

You came fast, and Kit didn’t stop until you were almost asking him too from the overstimulation. Your chest was heaving as he moved on top of you. He kissed you hard, you could taste yourself on his lips. You knew it was time, and you weren’t nervous.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop, okay?”

All you did was nod. Kit placed a short kiss on your lips before spitting on his hand and lowering it to his hard dick. You felt him place it at your entrance, it was big. He placed his hands by either side of your head, lacing your hand in his on one side. Without wasting anymore time he began to push himself inside you. You gasped, grabbing his shoulder with your free hand.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispered.

You didn’t reply. You bit down on your lip until he was fully in. It hurt, but it wasn’t the worst pain you’d endured over the years. You could handle it. Kit waited until you gave him another nod to continue. Once you did, he started to slowly move in and out of you, each thrust hurting a little less than the previous one. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his soft noises only making the experience better.

“You can- you can go faster,” you said shakily after maybe ten minutes.

“You sure?” he mumbled.

“Yes.”

He did as you said and began to truly fuck you. You loved how much he loved it. His hand traveled down your body to grip your thigh. He lifted it up, his thrusts going deeper inside you than before. You moaned and pulled his lips to yours. He was insatiable. Biting your lip, sucking your tongue, it was nothing like what the two of you had done in Briarcliff. You loved it.

Kit didn’t last much longer after that. When he came, he moaned your name in a tone that made your stomach fill with butterflies. He collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy, his heart rate erratic, and his dick pulsing inside you. You moved your fingers through his sweaty hair and held him tight as he rode out his high.

“I love you,” you whispered softly. “And maybe it’s not the time to say this, but I’m grateful to have been put in that terrible place because it gave me you.”

He lifted his head from your chest and starred into your eyes as he spoke his next words. “I love you more and if I could go back in time, I would never change a thing. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can I have Yandere Malleus, Jamil, Floyd and Leona with a fem reader whose kid brother transported along with them to twisted wonderland? MC’s little brother is a bratty bully that she’s protective of because she had to act like a mother to him since they don’t have any parents. Her little brother can be very protective of his big sister and constantly antagonises the yanderes any chance he gets and when the time comes for them to kidnap MC, her little brother would do anything to stop them.

Kid Brother | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Similar to Spirit your brother is the deterrent for your obsessive suitors. But rather than protecting you through strength and perception, your baby brother’s aim is in his pull over his beloved older sibling. As the eldest sibling its natural you be as attentive as possible; its a given those interested will be less than stellar about it:

Malleus Draconia 

“Aw sorry Malleus, his stomach is hurting. No doubt he’s probably just got to go to the bathroom but just in case.”

“Perhaps Lilia can care for him? He has plenty of experience with children.”

“Noooo I want (YYYYYY/nnnn)!”

He doesn’t suspect much 

Not until a blatant attempt to propose to you is flubbed by your brother’s interjection

Than he’s alerted 

And he’s mad

He’ll need Lilia and Silver to bring him down from striking a child with magical lightning

In the end he’ll cope with it like its your child his child

“I see. The young one needs correcting and in honor of my love for (Y/n), I’ll be sure to…reprimand him properly.”

Jamil Viper  

“(Y/n)!!! He’s scary! Let’s go home!”

“...Fat chance. ~Tell the truth.~”

“I just want (Y/n) to take me away from you because you threatened to cook me.”

“...”

“...It…was a badly timed joke.”

Hypnotising children is usually easy

But your brother is such a snot nose it might backfire

But Jamil is slick and he doesn’t have morals 

So if given the chance to punt the little thorn in his side 

He will take it

‘Jokes’ aside he’s going to most likely shove him off towards the one person that can keep up with him 

“How about you and Kalim go on a magic carpet ride? Yeah that’ll keep you busy, right?”

Floyd Leech 

“Stay away from (Y/n) or ’ll beat you up!”

“Oh yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Floyd is usually good with kids

Usually he’s able to get on their wavelength and have a good time 

But when he’s not doing that he’s used to making adults wet their pants

And he’s most likely going to do that

He can worry about being friendly with your kid after he’s shown them who’s really protecting you

“Oi oi why don’t we…work together. Shrimpy’ll like that, right?”

Leona Kingscholar

“Grrr. Back off kit we’re talking.”

“LAlalala (Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)! I’m hungry.”

“I’ve got a knuckle sandwich for ya then.”

“Leona!” 

He should probably remind you what male lions do when they establish their rule over a pride

He doesn’t bother arguing with the rat because he’s too stupid to get it

But you’re not 

And unless you don’t want to be a single sibling 

You’ll tell him to shape up

“Ah (Y/n) does the rat really want to bother us now?”

[rosedpetal]

A Good Father

Summary: Ransom shows his family he knows how to take care of his own kid.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (as his baby mamma)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

Author's note: this is a repost.

Masterlist

If years ago someone ever told Ransom that he'd get married and have children, he'd laugh in their faces. Whenever anyone in his family brought the topic of him settling down, he would leave the table and curse at them.

Until you came in the picture.

He was having the worst day ever, and he desperately needed a cookie. So, he went to the grocery store and was about to pick the last package left of his favorite cookies on the aisle, when you swayed your damned hips and got the package first.

Ransom was livid. He threw the most embarrassing tantrum ever, threatening to call security on you and ruin your life, but you just laughed at his face and asked if he wanted to share. Share! How dared you?

So, you bought the cookies and gave him half. After the first bite, his mood improved and he actually asked you out on a date. It was the best night of his life.

Five years later, you were married and had a baby. You moved to a nice house in a quiet neighborhood, and even adopted a stray dog (well, he just got home from work one day and the puppy was chewing on one of his expensive shoes, while you had the widest grin he ever saw on someone's face).

Ransom loved you with all his heart. And when you gave birth to your baby daughter, he loved her beyond words.

But right now, you were set on making him miserable.

"I'm not talking about this again, Hugh." You pointed your finger at him and he flinched. You never called him by his name. "You're going and you're taking Lily with you. Her nanny is sick, and I have to work."

"But babe-"

"Not. Another. Word." You gave him one of your deadly stares, and he actually felt sorry for Lily having such a scary mother. After petting your dog's fur, you turned to Lily on the highchair and peppered her face with kisses, while she giggled. "Mommy's gonna miss you so much baby boo, you tell me if your daddy misbehave!"

Ransom tried not to roll his eyes at you. You pecked him on the lips and he pouted. Before you left the kitchen, he called you:

"Babe, don't forget your jacket. It might get cold."

You smiled at him. You knew he was upset for having to take Lily to his family's horrible get-together.

After your car left the garage, he looked at his chubby baby, wondering if he'd succeed in shielding her from the evil of his family.

Things change after having your first child. First, Ransom started saving money. No more shopping sprees for him. Then, he actually tried to get his own thing, in which he failed miserably. Seeing his struggle, his good old grandad secured him with the ownership of their publishing company (for Walt's despair). The only catch: he'd have to show to family meetings at least until Harlan Thrombey's death. 

Which was how he was stuck in this mess in the first place. 

Ransom was not stupid. He could handle these annoying game nights, dinners and whatever by provoking everyone and leaving after setting the mood for a big fight.

But bringing his baby with him?

Big no.

Well, you shared his opinion on this. You two would avoid having Lily in their company as best as you could, but some things couldn't be helped.

Your trusted nanny called in sick, and you couldn't bring Lily to work.

Ransom wanted to cry. 

He took the fussing Lily out of the baby seat and struggled to put her in the carrier attached to his front, got her pink bag on his shoulder and closed the door of the car with his feet (how you managed to do all these things so gracefully were beyond him). He got on the front porch of Harlan's home and wanted to scream. What the hell was his great-grandmother doing there, sitting alone on that chilly afternoon, with such a thin blanket covering her?

"Hey Nana, why don't we go drink some tea inside?" He offered. The small old woman nodded, in a way he new she didn't actually acknowledged him.

Fuck his family for treating Nana like she was something disposable.

Ransom took Nana's small hand on his and carried her to an armchair in the living room, where Fran was serving tea to Harlan.

Before Ransom could even say "hi" his grandfather was already up and speaking in his "baby" voice with Lily. His daughter giggled, showing her cute teeny tiny new teeth.

It was fucking cute, but the days of Lily's teething made Ransom and Y/N traumatized.

"Hi to you too, granddad." Ransom rolled his eyes, sitting across his grandfather's seat.

"Tea?" Fran offered Ransom. He thanked her, an habit you made him build. Saying "thanks", and "please", things his parents didn't bother to teach him. He wanted Lily to be better than him, and by that, he had to make himself better than whatever he was.

The first time Ransom apologized to Fran, the woman was so shocked that she broke in a fit of hysterical laughter, while Marta just blinked like she was imagining things.

Ransom took a walk with Lily still safely attached to his chest. He didn't want to admit it, but she was getting heavier and harder to carry all the times. God, after five minutes he needed to sit down on a wooden trunk to recover.

Feeling like his breath was coming to normal again, Ransom went back to the house, noticing that there were more cars parked there.

Here comes the shit show.

At the dining table, Richard's voice mixed with Walt's, like they were competing on who would talk louder. Linda absently smoked a cigarette, promptly ignoring Joni. Jacob and Meg where fighting over politics or some shit, and Donna was on her phone.

A miserable-looking Marta sat between Fran and Nana on the small couch on the corner.

And Harlan ignored the rest of them, with a glass of whiskey dancing in his hand.

"Oh, there he is! And look who is here too!" Linda beamed, putting out the cigarette. 

Ransom grimaced when his mother's nicotine smelling hand brushed against his daughter's face. Lily was so calmed before, and it broke his heart when she started crying her lungs out, like she wanted to be away from Linda's greedy presence.

Lily's crying made everyone shut up. She was born eight months ago, and they saw her only once, when Ransom and Y/N took her to Harlan's when she was a newborn. Linda and Richard tried to visit Ransom's house a few times, but they quickly grew bored of the grandparents role.

Joni, Donna and Walt couldn't really care less for baby Drysdale. Meg tried to be as nice as she could with Lily, but she was terrified of babies. As for Jacob, Ransom didn't want that little creep close to his daughter.

"Oh, Ransom, is she hungry or something?" Linda grimaced at Lily's screams. 

No, mother, she's upset because she hates you. Ransom wanted to yell at Linda's face, but he just took Lily in his arms and rocked her gently, kissing her sweaty temple and running his thumb over her tears.

"Shh, love. 'S okay, daddy's here for you. My brave little girl, everything's gonna be alright, I'm here for you." Ransom whispered gently to Lily.

Linda gulped, suddenly feeling her eyes watering. She wondered if she could go back she'd be a better mother. She doesn't remember ever holding Ransom like that, not even when he was a baby. She didn't even breastfeed him, and she and Richard never woke up in the middle of night to soothe Ransom's cries. Not when they had nannies for that. Not when they could buy their way of not giving him their time or affection.

"You're good with her, son." Richard cleared his throat, feeling the same guilt wash over him.

"Of course I'm good with my own daughter." Ransom scoffed, still rocking Lily in his arms. He lowered his head to her. "There you go, baby. Wanna hang out with auntie Marta while daddy spend some time with these assholes? Huh?"

Marta smiled a little at the snarky remark, and Ransom passed Lily to her, who was already making grabby hands for Marta.

Of course she likes the immigrant nurse, Linda bitterly thought.

"Wow, that was so cute, Ransom!" Meg complimented. "You make me think even I could be a good parent! No offense, of course."

"None taken, cousin. Having children is life changing if you're ever willing to have your own."

"Ohhh, I miss when Meg was that tiny. You were the cutest thing ever, baby." Joni took Meg's hand on her own. Donna and Walt's gaze strayed to Jacob, who smiled at them.

The memories of Linda, Neil and Walt's feet running in the house flooded Harlan's memory. How he missed them like that. How he missed his deceased son and wife. 

The atmosphere in the living room was way more harmonious, almost soothing. The Thrombey-Drysdale family was taken aback by Ransom's behavior. They never thought he'd be a good father.

[br4tphobia]

mothers day . ♱ connie springer

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ details + Wc : 2,9k, Plug bby daddy! Connie x fem! reader, written with black woman in mind, idccc connie tanned !!!, connie being a sweet heart 🥹, connie callin the reader hella petnames, snuck in a lil bit of headcannons here n there!! , uses of baby, ma, mama and more, connie sneakin ina lil jokey joke, you/your pronouns used ! (not proofread, forgive me if u see any spelling mistakes.) NS4W + sex w/ some plot, passionate sex, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, oral (r receiving), breeding kink (ig .), fingering (r receiving) marking, missionary, pussy whipped connie !!, creampie and slight overstimulation .

✧˖*° vals note + this was lowkey ass n short (all of my work is) but hey ,, js a lil sumn thats late for mothers day, love everything yall do for yall children !!

its mothers day. the day where mothers are appreciated by children for what their mothers have did for them. you and connie have been dating for a while, only have one child, ava. life is perfect as it is and you wouldnt trade anything for it .

“boy what are you planninggg !”

your glossy lips pout dramatically, a blindfold covering your eyes and he guides you by your waist. “jus’ know its for you.” you suck your teeth, “well duh .. since you plannin all this shit, where ava?” “dont worry about allat, she with mikasa.” a exaggerated sigh fell from your lips, eager to see what ever hes gonna show you. “bae you scarin me ..” he leaves a reassuring grip on your waist and plants a kiss on your neck. “nothin to be scared about, now watch yo step. we going up the stairs .” “cant watch my step if im blind folded ~” “exactly why im here.” you cant help but feel yourself warm all over, his hands cupping around your waist, smooth tone of his voice, his audible accent.

when you both make it up the stairs which seems like forever, he removes one hand off your waist to open the door, “keep the blind fold on til i say you can take it off .” a small “ok..” leaves past your tongue, you fidget with your fingers nervously — connie doesnt do surprises like that ; but when he did, it was scary. “igh..take it off.” “papi, can you do it.. im nervous.” a small chuckle erupts from his chest, undoing the tie behind your head — before taking it off “ready, ma?” he questions you. you nod your head as a yes quickly, the darkness covering your vision fades away ; the blind fold dropped. your eyes adjust to the dim light in the room, “happy mothers day.” your eyes immediately widen along with a gasp. rose petals along the floor leading to the bed traced into a heart with red ballons reaching the ceiling with pictures of you, connie and ava hanging at the end. designer bags sitting infront of the pillows. such as Chanel, Louis vuitton and prada.

your eyes swell up at the scene. “you didnt..” holding your head up, trying to prevent those tears that’s threatening to fall. he pulls you into a hug, “i did. i love you and appreciate you for everything you did for this family.” whispering in your ear while he rubs circles on your back. “i-i love you too..thank you.” “save those tears mama, lets see yo gifts.” he grabs your arm and leads you to the bed. he watches you intensely as you smile from joy at the gifts, thats all he wants. to see you happy in life. “con..! i swear you’re too good to me!” your pretty face beaming, holding up the beautiful louis vuitton bag. tracing over the LV monogram logo ever so lightly. “you like it mama?” “i love it, baby, thank you. so so much !” his polished whites shine in your face from your response.

laying with him close after opening your gifts you catch him staring at you, the longer he looked at you, the more he fell in love. hell, even if you both are screaming at each other out of anger. “you ok..?” — “you're so pretty.” he's so confident in what he says you hate it, it always folds you. he's not afraid of thinking he's doing too much for you, flat out treating you like a princess more than he does his baby girl. he grabs your chin before your could respond and presses his lips against yours, you kiss back. your hand snaking up his neck, scratching his nape lightly with your solid baby pink nails. he tilts his head to the side to get more access to your lips, his tongue going past your teeth, tongues swirling around whilst he holds you still with his hand on your neck. lifting you up a bit to help you onto his lap. he groaned into your mouth as he pulled you on top of him, straddling his body. your tongues ran over each other so passionately, pulling away every other second to catch your breath.

he utters sweet compliments between every clash of lips, he always knows what to say to you. your plush thighs sit on his with your back arched, the kiss only getting deeper, his hands slid down to your hips and rocked them back and forth. you feel his hard on bump on your clothed clit causing you to moan, gaining the muscle memory of grinding ontop of him, you pull away from the kiss at the pleasure. “jus’ like that mama..” soft groans were shared through the room together from both mouths. til the point where he was leaking in his own pants he turns you in your back, swiftly scooting down to your thighs. he gave you a look of consent, you nod slightly, lowering the band of your shorts that you’ve been teasing connie with all day. his veiny hands pull both your shorts and underwear down in a swift motion.

you let out a light gasp at the cold air mixing with your hot core, you push your thighs together from the cold. “aht aht.. lemme see that pussy, keep those legs open ma..” his hand slid in-between your thigh and part them together. he licked his lips before diving in. he spat down on your core, slurping it up almost instantly. he runs his tongue over your folds, his nose bumping your clit — sending a shock wave to your pit of your stomach. “mm..con..” honey sweet moan fills his ears, your hand resting on his head whilst yours grip the sheets. placing sloppy kisses on your pussy, this man was eating you out like it was his very last meal of his life. slurping, smacking, and gulping down your slick, he knows he can eat pussy and tales advantage of it. “fuck..i love the way you eat this pussy papi..” your voice is breathy, more moans are formed and exhaled out of your mouth.

you rut your hips against his face, your juices running down his face dripping onto the silk sheets. you love seeing connie like this — hungry for you. the way he groans into your pussy at your taste, having his own make out session with your folds ; tongue fucking you ever so deliciously. "im gonna cum baby.." you roll your head back, waiting for your orgasm. every lick and plunge from his tongue brings you closer to the edge – god, you haven’t felt like this for while since ava was born. Everything starts to feel tingly and intense, he was desperate for you. “cmon.. make a mess on my face, mama.” Muttered through his messy mouth full of your arousal, you see white spots as soon as the pit in your stomach boils over. “mm shit babyy!” clawing at his dyed hair, shaking legs, broken moans, all that just by his mouth.

he made sure not to let a drop spill after pulling away, he charmingly smiles against your cum stained thighs, giving them a peck. “still with me, mama?” “ yea..” your voice is breathy, and rasp. Recovering from you recent orgasm, “ight, lift your arms .” his hands curve to your back as you do as he says. The shirt going over your head and dropping them back to your sides. “can I” he looks you dead, then trailing down to your laced bralette, hinting to take it off . “mhm” is your immediate response, feeling his slim tattooed fingers clip your bra of your chest. your nipples harden to the exposed surface of the air, “you gon lemme suck em ?” he raises a eyebrow, his tone teasing. you smile at his idiotic comment “oh my god.. yes…” connie hums at your quiet response, “yes, con. you can.” not even processing your answer he latches his mouth on your nipple like hes some type of leech. the warm wetness of his mouth soaking your nipple, whilst his other hand massages the other one — you let out quiet whines as hes twisting and pinching on it.

“imma prep you, ok, pretty?” hes slightly inaudible but you can still understand. he sliding his hand down your bare body, curving down to your inner thigh. connie collects the leftover slick and slides his lubricated digits into you. your walls immediately pulse around him index and ring, his thumb reaching to rub your clit. “oh my god..” shallow breathes escape, his long fingers massage the inside of your pussy, scissoring, pumping and curling against ; hitting all the rights spots. “just like that baby, oh fuck..” once he feels like hes gave that boob enough attention he switches, his mouth latching on your right one. you find yourself grinding on his fingers, the pleasure too much where you have to push your sticky thighs together, your nipple leaves his mouth with a ‘pop !’

“what i tell you ?” his tone hinted a warning , “to k-keep my legs open..”

“then do it, todays all about you. so let me make you feel good.”

he continues his actions with his fingers, simultaneously reaching up to give you a kiss. “think — you can ,, take me?” he’d push his fingers out through the kisses as you keep coming back for more, “yes, i need you so bad..” “dont say that, imma nut in my pants, mama” he rolls his eyes in resemblance of you. “boy pleasee” he gives you another smile before pulling his sweat pants down, you stop him. tugging on his shirt “take it off firstt” “ight ight,,” his shirt lifts over his head and thrown unknowingly in the room — his tanned abs on full display for you, god knew what he was doing when creating him cause lord.. hes so fine. “now ,, can i fuck you?” “of course.” he lowers the waistband to his thighs along with his PSD boxers. his tip slaps against his toned stomach with ongoing beads of precum oozing out the pretty brownish pink slit of his tip.

“ready, ma?” he says with a few strokes with his then — then sliding his girth through your folds. nodding another yes, he slides in. the wetness of your pussy squelches as he slids in, pretty tanned cock disappearing into your heat. “shit..” you head rolls back, eyes brows furrowing at the small stretch. “i know, ma..but you can take it..i know it.” his comforting words ease the pain, with his hand stroking your face. within a few moments he pulls out til the tip is only left inside you. “you think you can take me?” “yea..” “tell me if its too much.” whispering low, but loud enough for you to hear. he’d raise your leg on his shoulder and push back into you, sliding in and back out. making sure his rhythm wasn’t too slow or fast — from watching your facial expressions and body language, he kept his pace,

"mm.. fuck.." moaning softly, he could listen to your sounds every morning, evening, and night. "thats it mama.. " he lowers his head to the level of your neck, nibble and sucking on your bare skin. visible bite marks and hickeys grew one by one, connie loves marking you. he wants to know youre his, he loves you and wants to be there for you at all times. even when you both are on bad terms. the way his shaft disappears into every-time he rocks back into you. pushing out moans more and more, “look at you.. takin this dick so pretty..” he groaned at the feeling of your getting wetter at his choice of words. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him inches closer than what he already was to collide his lips with yours. tongues tangling beautifully together, moans, groans , and whimpers where the only thing shared along the soft skin clapping.

pulling away from his intoxicating lips, to catch your breath. he moves back down to your hickey, covered neck to add more. whispering how good it is against your neck “fuckk i miss this pussy..” — “got me wantin to nut already..” “mm..” whimpering as he brushes his tip against your cervix again. he angles his hips at certain directions to find your spot, watching your body language once again. His finger tips grazing over your beautiful curves while thrusting into you so sensually as hes laying kisses on your neck. "fuck papi.. faster.." your body squirms at neediness, just for him to obey your request — snapping his hips quicker then before, not too fast nor slow, hed do anything just to make sure you were pleased, in and out of bed! he loves you too much to leave you unsatisfied. “mm shitt !” you breath hitches on how deep he got, bumping places inside you that you couldnt reach with your own fingers, he watches your boobs bounce at the rhythm of his strokes as you grip on once tightly, those plump lips slightly agape to release moans, the crease between your hips and thighs from having your legs on his shoulders.

another moan came from you lips, the volume of them getting louder as he hits your g spot. “right here, ma?” he softly puts his hand over the small bulge re-appearing every other thrust, “y—yes! don’t stop baby.. fuck im g’na cum..” oh, he most definetily wont stop. your back arches from the pleasure, scratching on Connie’s back for some type of stability, leaving scratch marks he would definitely admire in the morning. “cum, mama. nut on this dick.” more thrusts, clit stroking, and groping away from your second orgasm. connie loves how whiney you get before you cum, your high pitched moans and whimpers is the most euphoric thing to hear from you, letting him know that you feel good. “baby..baby im cu—" cut off by a silent moan, his strokes get deeper then — what you thought — he possibly could get. gushing over his length, a white ring forming on it.

"fuuck.." he slows down to prevent himself from cumming too soon, but still allowing you to ride out your orgasm. your voice is quiet mumbling "oh baby"s, your pretty face relaxed with your lips shaped into an O. "feels so.. — fuckin good.." his voice is pitched, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut, still continuing his intoxicating thrust which feels like light shocks from being overstimulated. he looks down to admire your facial features, he cant get enough of you, not even if he tried. "you like that? this dick fuckin you deep?" his voice is slightly hoarse, "yesyes mmhpp" you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your sounds, not wanting to get louder. "let me hear you." , he grabs your hand and places it your tummy buldge.

"i-im sorry... ohmygodd.. you fuckin me so good, papi.." your wet sounds from your previous orgasms leaving his lower stomcach sticky. "shit..gonna cum mama.." cant help but feel embarassed from being close too soon, but you dont care. you also want him to feel as good as you do. "fill t-this pussy up.." his cock twitching inside your silk walls, “yeah? tell me how much you want it.” thats one thing he loves, seeing you plead for anything from him, probably one of his biggest turn-ons. “so bad baby.. mhpp! make me a mom of two..” Thats all connie hears, two. "thats what i like to hear, mama.." his pace picks up, "s-shit baby..fuck im cumming.."

his breathing quickens before he lets out a drawn out groan of your name followed by a few other thrusts. letting out whimpers at his thick seed sitting inside you before dripping onto the sheets. soon he pulled out, watching in awe whilst trying to catch his breath. "jus’ wait til fathers day. imma make it up to you." refering to everything hes did for you today, "lookin forward to it, catch yo breath. i ain done." "wha..?" "you head me, imma make sure you a mother of two."

theemrsjaeger 2023 © do not plagiarize, copy, or repost anything I post. 🩶

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

May I ask why you dislike Malleus so much?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[For context on why I dislike Malleus: here and here!]

Many of the reasons previously cited above are still applicable presently (though some points may be outdated since those posts were written before book 7). In this post, I will mostly be focusing on why my thoughts on Malleus have not changed despite the new added content of book 7.

I ramble on for a bit, so I put my thoughts below the cut! Ah—but before you read, please be aware that these are my opinions and not meant to be disparaging to any Malleus likers out there.

Me disliking him should not take away any of your joy!! Go out there and love him for me ^^

A lot of the things happening in book 7 were a long time coming, so really I felt as though Malleus finally “losing it” was affirming of all the red flags from before. Since day 1, his loneliness, aloofness, and awkwardness around his peers were key traits of his. What book 7 does is it magnifies the darkest aspects of his character.

We’ve seen several examples when Malleus has fits of rage and his power flares out of control or he at least threatens it. In Glorious Masquerade, he becomes enraged at the realization that the invitation he received was a false one. In A Firelit Sky, he insinuates that he would be upset if people questioned his presence for the trip. He crushes Lilia’s phone in his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, destroying a friend’s belonging because he was upset about not being invited to an occasion. In book 7, we see a flashback of Malleus freezing the whole castle as a child because his grandmother, overtaken by her duties, could no longer dine with him as promised. Malleus’s temper has been a persistent issue since childhood.

We’ve also seen him act callously toward his classmates and misuse magic to force his will upon them. Remember him stopping time during Endless Halloween Night? How he wanted some ghosts to enjoy themselves instead of missing out on being with everyone for the holiday? Now he’s stopping time in book 7 and keeping everyone in their happy dreams forever. Remember how (in his Dorm Uniform vignettes) Malleus thought it would be easier to make the other dorm leaders come to him instead of him coming to them for their meeting? So then he disregards their autonomy and casts magic that’s normally cast on objects on living beings (something which the other dorm leaders take offense to, as it is dehumanizing). He fails to consider their perspective when he returns to Diasomnia (he basically goes, “well, I wouldn’t have been mad if they cast that spell on me!”). Malleus learns nothing from the experience despite Lilia trying to tell him over and over to be more considerate of others and how different they are from him. Now we have Malleus relating his peers to a virtual pet that he never ever wants to leave him.

Malleus can be stubborn and arrogant. He has a very single-minded way of thinking and often does not consider others’ feelings before he makes the decision for them. Malleus can be insecure. He doesn’t even fully realize he is lonely until Yuu suggests it in book 7, but he’s capable of acting on his bouts of intense emotion. He has always had these flaws, and now they are being brought out in full; we’re being forced to confront OB Malleus and all the complicated, twisting feelings of abandonment that come with him.

Let’s make one thing very clear: I don’t take issue with the overblot boys in general; they are meant to be morally grey characters that act in dubious ways. It would be insincere for me to claim “I dislike Malleus because he did bad things!” News flash, many TWST characters have done bad things or at least questionable things that would give you pause. What separates Malleus from the others and makes him egregious enough to earn significant ire from me is the particular actions he takes (which triggers a personal disdain of mine).

Malleus consistently exerts a scary amount of control over others. This is not a new idea; Riddle and Vil are also notorious for being oppressive or controlling, and I’ll be the first to admit that. (You’ll note that those two are low on my tier list too.) The thing is, Riddle and Vil were very overt and open about their demands for obedience. Malleus can be too, but it’s so insidious how he acts within the dreams. He ignores people’s autonomy, gaslights others, and, again, acts like he knows what’s best for them 💀 Other characters have done these things too, but never to the same scale or by exerting this much power. Malleus then resorts to violence when his lies don’t work, even though he’s fully aware of the power disparity between him and his peers. It feels particularly scummy to me because of how Malleus frames his selfish actions and feelings (his wish for Lilia to not leave) as selfless (for the benefit of his peers) and something everyone else would want in order to justify it to himself 💦 I know he is in (or bordering on) overblot so he wasn’t thinking rationally at that point, plus the fact that many examples I listed come from events or vignettes which may not be canon to the main story timeline. Still, there is a concerning pattern of behavior with Malleus misusing his powers or not being considerate of others and failing to grow from those mistakes. You can only go “oopsie” so many times before you harm someone by accident. I expect people to learn their lesson by then and adopt some proper restraint. He keeps claiming his intentions are good as if that’s supposed to dismiss any harm that results from his actions??? No, his actions still harmed people and he has to deal with the consequences of them, not have them hand-waved away or excused. The behavior I’m witnessing is reminiscent of like… having a toxic friend that is constantly told “hey, what you’re doing/saying makes me feel uncomfortable; do you think you could dial it back?” and the friend tells you they’ll try but then never actually changes their behavior or defends their behavior with “I didn’t mean to, so therefore I did not actually harm anyone”.

You can give me a backstory, but a backstory only goes so far as explaining why he is the way he is; it does not excuse him at all. You can say “He’s a fairy! He’s actually a child mentally! He's sheltered!” until the cows come home, but when he relies on magic to quickly fix the problems he caused instead of stopping to genuinely reflect on why people are mad at him, it’s hard for me to sympathize. Because of his immense power and status, the only person that can reasonably hold Malleus accountable is himself, and he has not demonstrated to me that he can do that.

Book 7 is essentially the payoff for allllll the tropes and traits I never liked to begin with coming into fruition. That’s why Malleus has stayed where he is in my TWST character ranking. I did not expect the writing, no matter how good or tear-jerking, to change that. Until Malleus shows that he’s fully apologetic, recognizes the error of his ways, and consciously tries to connect with others and understand their perspectives, he’s staying squarely where he is.

Am I saying a character with flaws is a bad thing? No, absolutely not! Flaws are what make a character interesting, I’m not faulting Malleus or any other characters for having them. Am I saying that he is poorly written? No, I think Malleus is actually quite a complex character and he’s been really fascinating to follow. I love the emotional complexity of book 7–and it was so clever how the devs related his virtual pet to wishing for happily ever afters for people in his real life. This magnitude of danger is also just about what I expect of book 7 and the themes of togetherness that TWST was angling for from the start. But the fact remains unchanged that I perceive his attitude as irritating at best and reprehensible at worst.

My distaste for Malleus is based entirely on my own views and life experiences. The specific flaws Malleus has and how he acts because of them don’t sit well with me and the kinds of things I enjoy in fiction. It’s not anything deeper than that!

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Pyrite - Chapter 3: Tears have drowned you

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Chapter summary: Aemma's and Daemon's coins finally land. Reader is not pleased.

Chapter warnings: Anxiety.Violence. Nudity. Sexual remarks. Kidnapping/ witness protection (Daemon's version) Reader gets slapped a few times, discussions of abortion and death.

A/N: They finally met! I am so sorry if this chapter is off, I am going through a breakup.

“This is an interesting contraption.” The Prince says, examining the dry brush that you use on the Queen before her bath. It makes her skin smoother. You gape at him, setting down the bucket of water that you were carrying. You were not expecting him to seek you out.

Panic rises at your throat and threatens choking you. You were not expecting him to come after you. Not like this.

It had all seemed so clear when you had overheard it. You couldn't let an innocent baby die, so you had to send the note. But after you had done so, fear started to sink in.

Otto Hightower was not a man to be trifled with. He was smart and ruthless, alight with the sort of fire that prompted me to do anything necessary to be someone in life. It was a yearning not so dissimilar to your own. Maybe Ser Otto was not of common birth, but he was a second son. And all second sons spent their lives waiting, just like the commoner, to be noticed.

He would do anything to finally get the recognition and standing he felt he deserved, including disposing of unexpected obstacles. After all, if he was willing to kill a babe still in the womb, why not a serving girl?

Your nights were spent lying on your cot, with the blanket pulled up high enough to hide your face and hair. You felt safer that way. The blanket wrapped tight around your body allowed you to feel any shifts on the bed, preventing anyone from sitting or leaning on your bed as you slept without you being alerted of it. Hiding under it had a less practical motive. Like a child, you just felt better that way.

Never before had you thought so much about your own death. When you were younger, and first became aware of death, you had realized it meant that you would die one day too. It was a scary thought, but it wasn't one that would make you freeze in terror as it did now.

Would it hurt? Would he poison your food? Send a sellsword after you? You had been raised under the Faith of the Seven, but your belief in them was weak. You doubted the existence of the Seven Heavens or Seven Hells. Would it be like falling asleep? Perhaps it would hurt. And then nothing would come ever again. You would just cease to exist, to be.

You had worried so much about Otto Hightower that you had not thought of the other, more dangerous threat to your wellbeing. Prince Viserys' attack dog. Daemon Targaryen.

“I must say, I had not expected such a reaction.” Prince Daemon sets down the brush, smirking. “Have you never given a man a bath before?”

You wished you were wittier. That your tongue was as sharp and fast as his. But with fear clouding your senses, you could do little more than curtsy clumsily.

He knows. He knows. He knows. The words kept repeating on your mind, a constant litany of panic and urgency. Your heart was beating wildly inside his cage, so hard you felt it might break a few bones and jump out of your chest.

No one would protect you. Not even your mother, placed in an impossible position by her foolish daughter. Between her beloved Queen and the future King of Westeros, something would have to give. Because thanks to you, Prince Viserys' victory seemed more certain. Why else bring his brother, if not to deal with the threat?

They were supposed to be in the city to visit their father, the Lord Hand. You did not believe a word of that excuse. Never before had they visited Prince Baelor. The Lord Hand went to them, not the other way around.

Would anyone care if you were to disappear? You were so invisible, no one would miss you. You hadn't made many friends among the other servings girls. The Queen you served didn't notice you, nor did any of the other nobles. You only had your family.

“There must be a confusion.” You said, cautiously. You decided to keep your eyes fixed on the Prince's face. It was an unusual choice, you weren't supposed to gaze at nobles so directly. But you were not so foolish as to be in the same room as a predator and leave him unchecked. “I serve Queen Alyssane, my Prince. Only her. I am sure other…"

“I know.” He cut you off, before you could offer to find him another serving girl to help with his bath. You were desperate to get away from him, and it probably showed. "I complimented my grandmother's skin. She said the secret was your mother's baths."

That gave you pause. It made the fear recede a little. It was an odd question for a man, but Targaryens were known for their queer customs. Especially this one. It was perfectly plausible.

If they were trying to get information out of you, it would have been easier for Princess Aemma to call for you. After all, she could become your future lady, and probably was more interested in baths than Daemon Targaryen.

So. They didn't know, and Prince Daemon had a genuine interest in baths or he did know something, but not everything. If you played your cards right, you could still walk away unscathed.

“Then by all means, I shall fetch my mother!” You said, trying to gauge his reaction to your obvious attempt to get away.

The Prince's features shifted into a mask of pure rage before smoothing down into a strained smile. The change was so quick that if you had not been paying such close attention to his eyes, you would have missed the murderous glint in them, the way his smile showed way more teeth than necessary, how his fists clenched by his sides.

He knew. The Seven save you, Prince Daemon knew.

“I asked about that. She delegated the task to you.” He said, flatly. “Now hurry and help me undress.”

You stepped closer to him. Every instinct in your body was screaming at you not to. Your stomach dropped, the hairs of your arms stood up, you felt like you were about to throw up. But what other choice did you have?

The pact had not been meant for you to witness. You knew that. Foolishly, you had worried about Otto Hightower and Corlys Velaryon. You had thought about how they would find you, and how they would kill you.

The conspirators had been outside the Red Keep, so if they suspected a leak, they might go after the tavern's cashier or owner first. It was doubtful any of them recalled the other people in the shop with them that day. That was not how Prince Daemon must have found you. If it proved hard for the men present, for him it would have been impossible.

How could a man be aware of a conversation that had happened a month before, thousands of miles away? No. He hadn't found out that way, or he wouldn't need you. They would already know who was threatening them.

With shaky hands, you unbuttoned and took off his jerkin. Prince Daemon was slightly tanned, as a result of all the time he must spend outdoors. You had heard that since claiming his dragon, not a day passed without him riding the blood wyrm. You also knew, by the sword on his belt and the muscles in his back, that he must train quite a bit.

Your eyes must linger a second more than it is proper because Prince Daemon laughs.

“Never seen a naked man before?”

“No, my Prince.” You swallow, mouth a bit dry. You are unsure if it is because you are getting an eyeful of a handsome man, or because of how worried you are.

You shouldn't have sent that note. Oh, the note. That was what would truly doom you. Deciding to send it to Dragonstone had been a gamble. You thought sending it directly to where Princess Aemma was would be quicker than trying to convince the Lord Hand.

Time was of the essence, after all. Nobles often announced their pregnancies around the three or four moon mark, considering it was more unlikely for the babe to die after that date. If the Princess knew of her pregnancy, it meant she had not bled for over a moon. For the conspirators to find out, more time had to have passed. Mellos would have to act quickly to fit into the timeframe.

“Don't worry.” Prince Daemon stepped away from you, a salacious grin on his face. “I will make your first time good for you, too.”

And looking you directly in the eyes, he yanked his breeches down.

“What are you?” You asked, trying to save face. You pointedly did not look down. “One and ten?”

Daemon tutted.

“Mouthy little thing, aren't you?”

You paled. In truth, you had not really thought that through. You shouldn't have mouthed back to a Prince, regardless of what he was doing to you. Much less, if he knew what you had done.

You had not been so foolish as to sign the note, but it still had your handwriting. It could easily betray your identity, especially considering that the fact that the Princess was at Dragonstone was not common knowledge to every commoner.

Could they tell that? That you were a commoner, just for the way you wrote? It had worried you at the time, but you had not expected them to narrow it down enough to actually come after you.

“I apologize, my Prince.” You lowered your eyes, before coming right to face with his… You quickly looked up.

“I don't mind it. I like my girls with a bit of a bite.” He leered. “Much nicer to split them open on your cock when they are likely to yowl and hiss like cats in heat.”

Your cheeks burned. You fought the urge to fled the room.

“I am eight and ten, to answer your question.” Prince Daemon kept going, as if nothing had happened. “What of you?”

You mumbled your age, and kneeled, holding the brush.

“Good, aren't you eager?” He laughed. You ignored him and started to brush from his feet towards his chest. The roughness of the brush startled him, and you felt a sense of dark vindication. “Oh… That's…"

You didn't let him finish, starting to brush his calves from behind, roughly. So what if you were taking your frustrations on him? Near a moon had passed without news, and with you living in anguish.

No one had talked about Princess Aemma, not to announce a loss or a pregnancy. You went on with your duties, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. Your previously gorgeous hair started falling out in clumps, and no tincture from your mother's journal could fix it. You could not stop thinking of Princess Aemma.

She was in your thoughts when you brushed the Queen's hair. Would she wear the crown next? You thought of her every time you saw a pregnant woman. Did the babe survive? Would she be your lady? If she were, would you be able to swallow this secret, keep it down?

“Is this necessary?” Prince Daemon asked, with a wince, when your brush approached his rear. It was very shapely, so you rubbed harder to vanish the thought from your mind.

“It is part of the Queen's bath.” You mumbled, thinking of how as soon as you scrubbed him raw, you were placing him in the bath and running away.

You did not get to do that. Prince Daemon, instead of eight and ten, acted five. He asked for you to wash his hair and rub his back, and overall made a nuisance out of himself. Not once did he ask about the note or your thoughts on succession. Instead, he made inane chatter and poorly hidden innuendos.

When you finished bathing him, you were convinced he was the most hellish man you had ever met. But you were also convinced that he was harmless.

How wrong you were.

The first thing you became aware of was a pounding headache. Your scalp hurt, and when you tried lifting your hands to check on it, you realized that they were tied to something.

Your limbs felt numb. Panic threatened to drown you once more, but you fought the initial waves and forced yourself to be calm. This was what you had been waiting for. If you wanted to live, you had to play it smart.

You lifted your eyelids, barely enough for you to see through a blurred sliver. The world around you was tinted red, and your eyelashes felt stuck together. You could see your legs, extended on the floor. You were sitting somewhere.

Softly, you tugged at your restraints. Your arms were tied behind you, but around something solid. A tree trunk? A bedpost?

You could not remember what had happened or how you had gotten here. Under you, there was something soft. A rug. So this was inside somewhere. You opened your eyes a bit more, hoping to catch a glimpse of the world around you, but cautious to do so in case you were being watched.

“You are awake.” A woman’s voice said. Her hand, soft and dainty, grabbed your chin in a bruising grip. “Good.”

Princess Aemma was crouching in front of you, a look of pure rage in her eyes.

“You will tell me who dared hurt my child. Or else.”

You blinked, stupidly. She was not who you had been expecting. Freshly wounded and surprised, you clearly took a second too long to answer because Princess Aemma slapped you. Hard.

Your vision darkened. You let out a ragged pant. This was… Not ideal. You had no idea of what was going on, or how she had known. Was it wise to speak?

“Who was it? Who ordered it?”

You whimpered. Could Princess Aemma protect you from Otto Hightower? His reach could be further than you thought. But even if she could, it would be picking a side. With the succession issue still unsolved, it felt unwise to do so.

Aemma could be the future Queen, yes. But so could Princess Rhaenys. And she would not want you then, if she knew you had passed information along to her rivals.

What would you do, then? Where would you find employment? Being a handmaiden to Targaryen women was all you knew how to do. Horrible images of ending up cleaning toilets or, the Seven forbid, in a pleasure house crossed your mind.

And that was if Princess Aemma allowed you to live. Perhaps she would think you too much of a burden or a part of the plot to hurt her, and just… Dispose of you. She had enough gold to hire an assassin or acquire poison, if she didn't do it with her bare hands. By the look in Aemma's face, she was very close to becoming a murderer.

You shook your head, near tears.

“Tell me.” Aemma insisted, her grip turning cruel. She raised her hand to strike again.

You shook your head again.

“Aemma?” Someone else spoke. It was a male’s voice, this time. You jerked upwards. Aemma's hand stilled. “I brought Daemon.”

Prince Viserys and Prince Daemon stepped inside the chamber that you were in. You felt like you were about to throw up. Exactly how many royals were keeping you captive?

Prince Daemon gave you a wave. He was sporting a smug smile that made you want to strangle him.

“We meet again.”

You glared. Aemma struck you again. The pain barely registered. You felt as if your head was too heavy for your body. It lolled to the side. A sudden wave of nausea prevented you from rightening it.

“Do not dare look at my good brother or husband, you whore.” She grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look up at her. “You either talk, or I will throw you in the cells. And when I find out who murdered my child, you will die alongside them.”

“My love, we shouldn't…” Prince Viserys swallowed, nervously.

“Shut up, Viserys!” Princess Aemma shrieked and the Prince cowered. This was the man King Jaehaerys wanted as his heir? Maybe Queen Alyssane and Otto Hightower were onto something. The thought registered as hilarious in your mind's scrambled condition, so you laughed.

Aemma turned towards you, outraged, but someone else's laughter stopped her dead in her tracks. Both of you turned, searching for the source of the sound.

Prince Daemon was laughing, eyes crinkling in the corners. He looked, much to your disgust, even more handsome.

“What?” He asked the Princess, between chuckles. “It was funny.”

“It was not.” Aemma scowled. She raised her hand again. “You little bitch! What did I tell you about looking at my…?”

“I think not.” Daemon intercepted her hand, holding her away. You sighed. You weren't stupid enough to think he was protecting you. No, he was just going to speed things along.

Daemon was one of the few people you had met that deserved their reputations. Dashing and a good warrior, yes. But also mercurial and quick to anger.

“Speak. Or I will make you speak myself. I assure you, you won't enjoy it." His hand brushed the blood away from your face, almost tenderly. You flinched. There was something about his touch that made your skin crawl. Gone was the young man from earlier, all playful smiles and banter. Instead, only a cold mask remained. His words lacked embellishments or thinly veiled threats. Daemon was not bluffing. “You won't die. Not for a long time. I will make sure that whoever poisoned Aemma knows it was you who spoke. And they can kill you.”

They. He would make sure they. The words were spoken like a promise, almost an oath. The Prince was completely serious.

Being left to the mercy of Otto Hightower was not something you wished for. And between the two of them, you knew who you feared more. You could always take a ship to Essos and find employment there if things went awry. But for that, you had to survive.

You whimpered. Aemma's fingers dug into your shoulders.

“Names.” She spoke, voice filled with contempt.

“Hightower! Ser Otto! And a Mellos! Corlys Velaryon was there, but he did not know.”

Prince Daemon and Prince Viserys exchanged a look. Prince Daemon crouched behind you, while Prince Viserys helped Princess Aemma stand.

“Good, little bird.” Daemon untied your wrists. You kept very still regardless. “Do you know what comes next?”

You shook your head. What else could they want from you?

“You will sing just as prettily during the trial.” He ordered, forcing you to your feet. Princess Aemma beamed at him. Prince Viserys looked thoughtful. “For all court to hear.”

Your stomach sank. It was a death sentence. A commoner, standing against Otto Hightower? You would not even make it to the stand. He was a powerful man, with powerful friends. But even if you did, you doubted King Jaehaerys would listen to you. You were one woman against the most important men of the realm.

And Queen Alyssane! Oh, Queen Alyssane would be so disappointed. She would no longer want your mother and you in her service, if she didn't decide first that you were part of the plot and ordered your death for harming her family. Or even worse, the Queen could be part of the plot herself and be offended by your meddling.

“No, please! Please, please. They will kill me.” You begged. “Please, Your Grace, let me go.”

Prince Daemon smirked. Princess Aemma’s face twisted into a vengeful expression. They both were pleased by the possibility of your death. You resigned yourself to it, silently starting to cry.

And then, the unexpected.

“She is right, Daemon. You can't ask her to stand against them, she will be dead before nightfall.” Prince Viserys spoke, timidly. The other, more violent two, halted.

You could have kissed him. You could have proclaimed him King yourself.

“Then what?” Prince Daemon frowned.

“We will have the trial. You keep her until then.” Viserys ordered. Princess Aemma huffed, and exited the room, slamming the door on her way out. She clearly disagreed, but not enough to do something about it.

You were left alone with Viserys and Daemon. You eyed them warily. No good deed went unpunished, did it? You had wanted to save a babe, and not only had you failed, but you had been thrown into a pit full of dangerous beasts, ready to swallow you whole. And by the look on Prince Daemon's eyes, the dragons were the worst of them.

[third-generation-female-warrior]

Okay, so, fair warning, this is an anti-Reylo, anti-Kylo Ren, long analysis of The Acolyte, so if you choose to read this and get mad at me for bashing Kylo Ren, that's called a you problem.

Basically, seeing people compare the "situationship" between Quimir and Osha with whatever the fuck Reylo was and putting them on equal pedestals gives me the ick and I think I figured out why.

For clarity, I can't fucking stand Reylo for a lot of reasons, but for the sake of my analysis, I'll keep it condensed for why I can't stand Kylo Ren.

He is the warm mayonnaise of characters.

Don't get me wrong, he was generally interesting in The Force Awakens, when he was framed as the monster with a human face, and that's because the narration in TFA treated him like the goddamn villain he was supposed to be.

And then the pants were shat and the spine was broken when the narrative with The Last Jedi and The Rise of Skywalker was doing backflips on a trampoline trying to give him pathos, trying to make him empathetic, while also decimating literally every other character to put him on a pedestal he didn't deserve on his spit-washed "redemption" arc.

To me, it was like they didn't know what to do with him. Those movies might have been okay if they just stuck with making him the villain and continued to treat him as such. But they didn't, even when he was making bad choices and did nothing but make BAD choices up until the actual last fight, and instead, framed all of this BAD CHOICES as "he's complicated~~ <3" and that's where it all fell apart because the narration didn't like, punish him AT ALL for making these bad and barely even framed these as objectively bad choices.

Now, the Acolyte is different.

In the middle of lavishing us with the eye candy that is Manny Jacinto, and Qimir's apparent lack of threat and honesty to Osha, the narrative did something interesting and brilliant that I hope they continue to lean into.

While showing us how non-threatening Qimir can be, we are given a very rude awakening.

When we cut back to Khofar, it is a very long, very uncomfortable lingering shot of Jekki's dead body, as she is positioned towards the audience with open eyes, not quite looking at the camera, but forcing us to look into the eyes of Jekki all the same.

It is a rude awakening, a reminder that Qimir is a deceiver, and, most importantly THE VILLAIN OF THE SHOW!!!!

Under the facade of the hapless sidekick to Mae was the Sith Master waiting to strike her down should she fail.

A reminder that, through his honesty and intentions with not harming Osha, he is a murderer who could remorselessly justify his own slaughter of an actual child.

We look on as it shows Yord in the dirt, and the pile of dead Jedi bodies and we see that what Qimir has done was terrible and devastating he does not care, even if we do.

And THEN, ohohoh!!! AND THEN! We see how his dark deeds were not solely committed on Khofar, but he is continuing to do terrible things on Ahch-To the Unknown Planet.

Oh, we thought, we thought Osha was safe because she could pin him with his own lightsaber, she could kill him, she could leave!

But it becomes very evident in the last 30 seconds that Osha was never safe as she puts on his helmet, surrounds herself in dark, and symbolically succumbs to it as she closes her eyes.

He has been corrupting her this whole time and that's treated AS A BAD THING, and THAT'S where The Acolyte succeeds and The Sequels failed!

Qimir for his apparent defensiveness, is still treated as the villain, his act of corruption and seducing Osha to the dark side is treated as a scary thing, where you shake your head at the t.v. and beg her to not do it even if you know she's going to anyways.

And then you realize the answer to his riddle to Mae.

You realize this is how you kill a Jedi without a weapon.

And it's all very very wrong.

And, better yet, to finish this off, even though the narration establishes MOTIVE for his anti-Jedi stance, with his scar leading to his supposed backstory of betrayal (that we have to take at face-value for now, even if I think there's more to reveal), the motivation is just narratively justifying him or his actions, and he is STILL THE VILLAIN WHO MUST BE STOPPED!!

[gardenofnoah]

katsuki hates to be placated.

it stems from his childhood (because of course it does)—there was no getting through or around his abrasiveness, so the next best thing was to pin him with that tired smile. the look of resignation that was always the same, no matter who wore it. to agree to every retort, even if he was being so horribly unreasonable. to choose—overtly—the quickest way to end the argument and flee from him.

he hated it. he hated it, and he could never understand—why was he the only one who ever had any backbone? he saw his challenges and rose to them every time. he came out on top, every time. it wasn’t as if he was being purposefully combative. he just…didn’t know how else to be.

to finally understand that he himself was the challenge, and one not worth seeing through—well.

that just hurt.

so he did the only thing a child so young could think to do—he became more. more volatile, more prone to outbursts. more unpredictable and, looking back on it now, scary. but that was what made sense to him—if he was made to see those barely-veiled expressions of intolerance either way—he’d at least have control over why.

as an adult, he has a better grasp on himself and his emotions, but he wouldn’t be katsuki without that hair trigger temper and his smart ass mouth. and he feels lucky—really lucky—that he has you, because you aren’t afraid of his challenge. you meet him head on and you give it right back.

so he can’t understand why you’re standing in front of him—not even looking at him—wearing that same, appeasing grimace tonight. he doesn’t understand, and suddenly he’s 11 again—small and made to feel so, so insignificant by the way you sigh like you can’t bear to speak another word to him. by the way your lips can barely turn up at the corners, and your strained little “nothing, kat” when he asks you what your problem is.

he had only answered your questions. it might’ve been the case that his answers came through gritted teeth as he heaved himself through the door to your home. it might be true that the adrenaline from his shift still pumping hard through his veins had him a little on edge, still feeling vigilant for any outward threat. and the way you’re postured away from him, like you can’t stand another second in the same room with him, feels as threatening as any villain.

“so why the fuck are you mad at me?”

you pause, hand halfway to dropping the tea bag into the steaming mug on the counter as you turn to look at him, expression both concerned and very tired.

“mad at you?”

he balks, because he hadn’t anticipated having to actually elaborate on that, and now he feels foolish as he tries to formulate his complaint. but the anger wins out, like it always does, and his explanation comes out clipped through gritted teeth.

“you’re fuckin’—turned away from me like i’m a little pest,” he seethes, only spurred on by the way you step forward, reaching for him like you mean to pacify a child mid-tantrum.

he doesn’t even see you anymore, not really—just every other face projected over yours, until he sees red. it’s always the same—no matter how hard he tries, he is too much—

“y’think i can’t tell how bad you don’t want to be here right now? i can practically hear ya thinking of all the ways to leave this—”

“katsuki.”

you’re facing him fully now, arms crossed over your chest with a look that can only be interpreted as one of annoyance, aimed right at him.

and that gives him pause, because at least you’re honest. he just…doesn’t know what to do with that.

“what on earth are you talking about?”

and of course he can’t say it. he tries to deflect, because the walls close in and the only way out is to steamroll over you. “you—you—”

and he just wishes you’d cut him off—tell him some horrible and likely true thing about himself so he can let go of all of the venom he’s been carrying around for over a decade—but instead you wait for him to tell you what he’s thinking. he can’t bear to tell you that the only thing in his head right now is his fear.

fear that he’s too much for you, too.

“you’re actin’ like you don’t want to talk to me,” he grits out, mirroring your posture with a huff and glaring at the tile by your feet. it sounds childish when it leaves him, like he ought to have stomped his foot to end the sentence, and the shame curls up in his chest.

you’re silent for what feels like an eternity. he feels the anger burn him up when he hears you snort.

before he can snap at you, you’re wrapped around his midsection. he wants to thrash until you let go, but he’s subdued in a way that feels different. even so, his petulance remains, and he holds his arms out from his sides like you’ve got fleas.

“i’m not mad at you, you big baby,” you murmur, and he can hear the smile in your voice, even muffled by his costume. “i’m just tired, kat. i was like, 99% asleep until a minute ago. i thought we were just gonna go to bed. ”

he feels himself fight against the way he wants to deflate at your words, and this time the anger is only directed at himself. he doesn’t understand why everything has to feel so fucking hard. why every tiny shift in your body language has him feeling nauseous, or why his mind drops him at the worst case scenario and leaves him there, stranded.

“i don’t want to leave,” you answer his earlier comment, head butting him lightly in the sternum. he feels no control over his arms when they loop around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“it’s 1am and i want to sleep,” you look up to shoot him a pointed glare, but there’s no real heat behind it, “so can you shower so we can do that?”

he can only blink at you. after a long moment, your words filter down far enough for him to understand.

“i—uh. yeah.”

your lips twitch up at the corners as you pull away from him. he feels so raw that he’s unable to move, unsure how to proceed and unwilling to let you out of his sight in case it’ll be the last time he sees you.

“go on,” you say, expression softer, “i’ll be in bed when you’re done. maybe i’ll cuddle you if you’re done yelling at me.”

“‘m sorry,” he can’t manage anything louder than a whisper, and when you reach out to rest your palm over his heart, it’s far more painful than any withdrawal could have been.

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“…okay.”