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#he lived on the street for years with nothing but himself. he learned to never trust anyone and to always think for himself

bluerosefox · 8 days

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GHOSTS WITH HEARTBEATS

When Jason had been going to Gotham Academy, he had (for a good reputation for the media and to help him catch up on his penmanship, remember he had been on the streets and dropped out of school before getting picked up by Bruce for a while) signed up for a penpal project for 'less privileged people' to write to.

(Although Jason was annoyed the penpal project stayed within the states and only selected a middle of nowhere town, he knew the Richie Rich Elites would never subjugate their 'Heirs' to actual kids in need of learning how to read and write)

But Jason didn't mind his penpal.

Danny Fenton was a riot to talk, err write to in all honestly.

From his dry punny humor (and boy can he give even Dick a run for his money in the pun department but hey using some of them actually got Dick to warm up to him a few missions ago) and death jokes so many death jokes, to his nerdy love for space Jason enjoyed writing to Danny.

Even the short stories he would write about a ghost kid protecting a small town from other ghosts was interesting to read. He really liked the different kinds of ghosts there could be. Granted some seemed very OP like that Clockwork dude.

Jason liked writing to Danny, and even after the penpal project was over they had plans to keep sending letters, maybe even exchange numbers soon...

But then he died by the hands of the Joker.

The letters leaving Wayne Manor may had decreased but the letters being sent never did or at least until a few years ago.

Then Jason somehow returned to the land of the living.

Got taken by the LoA, tossed in the green waters and turned into their Pit Raged weapon for a while before leaving them behind and setting out for his revenge against the Joker and to force B's hand.

And becoming a Crime Boss for a while too. Can't forget that.

Point being with all this going on, the old warm memories of exchanging letters with Danny Fenton was pushed into the back of his mind and forgotten about for a while.

It isn't until one afternoon at Wayne Manor that while roughhousing with Dick, who had Jason in a brotherly headlock as they walked down a hall to one of the sitting rooms, that while Jason had slipped out of Dick's hold had stumbled into a hallway desk that had a few things on the top of it, one of the things being a small box that tumbled off when Jason hit it.

The box lid opened and out of it spilled out a good number of letters.

"Shiii-p, dang it Dick!" Jason said when he looked at the mess he accidentally made and stopped himself from swearing, the place might be named Wayne Manor but everyone knew this was Alfie's domain and no swearing was a rule within his halls.

Dick only laughed and teased only in a way a sibling can do "Hey not my fault your as big as a tank Jaybird! We should get you some caution signals if you keep bumping into things!"

Jason flipped him his favorite finger, thankfully Alfred only knew when they swore thus it did not summon him, and bent down to the letters.

His hands froze when he recognized the hand writing and the address it was sent from.

"From: Danny Fent Nightingale

Amity Park, IL"

To: Jason Todd-Wayne

Gotham City, NJ.

Wayne Manor"

And when Jason opened the letter. He really wasn't expecting what was written inside.

"Jason.

I'm finally leaving Amity Park. I can't be there anymore, not after everything. I'm too tired, and emotionally hurt. Everything is just to much. And I can't keep doing this to myself. My parents still can’t understand there is nothing ‘wrong’ with me or why I refuse to let them take care of Ellie, I refuse to let her live the way Jazz and I did, Jazz has to much on her plate already with her own life and college but she’s been hounding me to reach out to mom and dad, Sam refuses to listen to me when I tell her I want to be more than ‘Phantom’ in Amity Park, and Tucker is so busy trying to get into a good college and job we barely have time to talk nowadays. And don’t get me started on Vlad, that fruitloop’s been breathing down my neck since Ellie’s deaging.

Despite how much of a hellhole you like to call it, I think Gotham might be my, no mine and Ellie’s best bet of living some kind of life, especially now since the whole deaging she had to go through, she needs an ectoplasm rich city as well and since she has no actual papers because she was my clone and I remember you saying Gotham has people who can create new identities and-

I’m rambling again, to letter you again. I really need to stop it.

I can’t keep pretending you’re going to read these.

I know you’ll never read these. You’re gone. I can’t even find you in the Realms no matter where I look.

I’m sorry. For using you as, well, a way to vent my life for last couple of years. I shouldn’t had done it but it helped me.

Believing my friend was still alive and getting my letters I mean.

Again I’m sorry.

This will be my last letter to your ghost, pun unintended.

Goodbye Jason. Wish us luck in your city.

-Danny Fen-Nightingale...."

The sent date on the letter was roughly eight years ago.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #dp x dc #blue rambles #danny phantom dc #writing ideas #random idea #dpxdc #danny kept writing letters to jason even after his announced death #jason todd #danielle phantom #ellie phantom #deaged ellie #Jason asks Alfred about the letters #and Alfred says he nor Bruce had the heart to open them since they were addressed to Jason #instead Alfred put them away but because he hasn’t gotten a letter and with their chaotic lives he forgot #Jason is conflicted #should he reach out? to his old friend #Also what did Danny mean in his last letter? Deaging? with #he reads the other letters and realize the stories of a ghost boy might not just be stories #Danny is living in Gotham with Ellie #he cut some ties in Amity #He’s done his best to stay off the Bats radar though #he doesn’t wanna be dragged into the hero business again #He does meet RH when Ellie and her classmates are kidnapped though #what happens next is open ended #maybe dead on main? idk

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risuola · 9 months

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Gojo x reader who's a student and she's 18y/o and he likes yn but yn doesn't or she doesn't wanna admit

SENSEI — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Gojo Satoru is your sensei and everyone seem to notice that he likes you more than anyone else. Everyone but you.

cw: student x teacher, age gap (reader is 18, Satoru is 28), very brief description of fighting, public kissing — 1,4k words

a/n: thank you for the suggestion! I made if sfw but I made the ending open for part two maybe? I hope you enjoy it 🩶

» PART TWO [nsfw]

"Idiot," you grunted, your cheek was pressed against the grass as Gojo forced his knee into your back, holding both your hands in one of his own, the other keeping your head down. Another day, another training session with your teacher – you couldn't count how many of these you've already been through, but you can easily count how many sparring matches you've won. None.

"That's a strange way to ask for mercy, sweetheart, but okay," he hummed. You can tell he was grinning just by the sound of his melodic tone and you snapped at him, "I'm not asking for mercy, sensei."

"Ay, ay, so stubborn," Satoru chuckled and lifted up so you could do the same and as you stood on your feet, facing him, his hand caressed your cheekbone, successfully freezing you on the spot. The touch was so gentle that if you didn't know better, your knees would probably buckle from the sensation. But this was Gojo. The flirtiest of flirts, and the man you deeply disliked. It's not that you despised him, no, it's just the way he carries himself, the way he treated everyone around him, and most importantly, the way he treated you.

When you moved to Tokyo, joining Jujutsu High, you were barely fifteen, a first-year student that Satoru recruited himself by finding you on the streets of your small town and saving you from the mental facility that you already had one foot in, voluntarily. Before that, you tried to live your life as normally as one could, ignoring everything you saw around you because no one else seemed to see it. The curses, which you did not know were curses at the time, made you doubt your sanity for the longest time.

After moving, everything became easier – you met people who were just like you, you learned how to fight and mastered the cursed techniques in no time. Now, you just recently turned eighteen, you were pushing your last year of education, though there wasn't much more to learn, so you focused on helping younger students and if you were to be honest, this practice had taught you more than any theory could. You had the luck, or misfortune, to be Gojo's first official student – he took care of you himself, helping you to refine your control over the cursed energy and thanks to his guidance, you quickly discovered and mastered your own cursed technique, and since there wasn't much anyone could teach you at this point, you trained hand-to-hand with Satoru.

"Think you have more in you?", he asked, his thumb still brushing across your cheekbone and you took a step back. "I'm always ready to kick your ass," you bit, your eyes narrowing as you clenched your fists.

"That's my girl," Gojo grinned and you snorted at the sight. He's always so careless, never taking any of your attacks seriously, bragging about how untouchable he is, turning your wildest dreams into fantasies about erasing that infuriating smile from his face. And he was taking your fists like they're nothing, blocking and pushing them away like he's chasing a fly away when you tried to land a punch, with no luck at all. "Come on, I'm sure you can hit me at least once," he mocked, moving effortlessly, as if he could see what action your body will take before you even think about it.

"Shut up," you groaned, trying and trying, before he kicked you in the stomach, pushing you against the tree and you had no time to react before he was pressing you back with his own body. The sudden closeness made you gasp and act impulsively, but Gojo blocked the knee that buckled up, aiming for his crotch. "Nuh-uh, that's against the rules," he chuckled and you felt his breath against your lips.

"And you being on me is not?" you argued, but he was unfazed. "Who made these rules?"

"I did," of course he did. "It's only fair that the strongest make the rules."

"You and your damn bragging-"

"I'm stating facts," he cut in, and you rolled your eyes, "and you can't seem to be able to prove me wrong. Not even one of your eager punches lands."

That was the last straw – you inhaled to calm your anger, and you could physically feel your composure snapping as you looked at his smiling face. You were desperate to prove him wrong, not to defeat him, no, you're not that insane, but to just prove him that he's not as untouchable as he says. And then you recalled every teasing joke you heard from your younger colleagues – all of them seemed to come to the collective conclusion that the 'special treatment' you got from your sensei was surely an effect of his feelings towards you, and you brushed off the idea every single time. Gojo Satoru is handsome, annoyingly so, and his eyes are an absolute blessing to gaze into (when you're not his opponent in a deadly encounter, that is), and he's a kind, friendly man, very caring and protective of his students. His strengths make him invincible; he can win any fight with no effort, and everything he does, he does perfectly. He often brings you sweets, remembering your favorite flavors, and he always addresses you with a slightly warmer tone than when he speaks to any other student. He's also ten years your senior, your teacher, and he's way out of your league, so you simply chose to dislike him because allowing yourself to believe in such an absurd theory that he could fall for you would only bring disappointment.

But now, you were desperate to slam your fist into his face, to draw blood from his nose, to make him lose his balance, to get something– anything more than a swift, effortless dodge from him. Without thinking, you moved your head forward, reaching up, and he hummed in surprise when your lips landed on his. You could feel he smiled while taking control over the kiss, and you fought for dominance just a little before grabbing a handful of his snow-white, messy hair. You felt his well-built body pressing harder against yours, much smaller; the wall of muscle flush to your chest, and his large hand landed on the side of your neck, fingers curling around the back, pulling you more into the kiss. For a moment you were lost in the sensation – it felt so wrong and yet so right, and your mind became cloudy; his lips were soft and plush and perfect against yours, as if they'd been carved precisely to match yours, and it made your temperature rise to feverish levels at how skillfully he guided the sensitivity. Nothing you've ever felt compared to the feeling of Gojo's lips slowly dancing on yours, as if he's starving and now, he was allowed to devour the long-awaited meal – but he devoured it slowly, savoring the taste to remember every second of it. You whimpered as you felt his hand sliding down the length of your spine, sending shivers along it as your back arched beneath the touch.

You tugged at his hair, causing a contented purr to rumble within his toned chest, and you moved against your body's desires. You'd like to stay like this forever, careless about how everyone can see you publicly making out with your sensei; you'd like to kiss him longer, deeper, to take more of him, to make him yours, even if only for a moment, but instead you moved your hand. Curling it into a fist, you bit onto his lower lip following it up with a harsh, heavy punch to the side of his face and it landed perfectly, the contact between your knuckles and his cheek undeniable as he touched the bone. Despite the force you put into it, the blow wasn't strong enough to make him fall or even step back, but it was satisfactory for you. His face was colored with surprise as he looked down at you, and you couldn't help but grin broadly.

"New rule," he said, grabbing your hand and planting a kiss on the reddened knuckles that just made contact with his face. "No kissing your teacher during spar sessions."

"Too bad I wasn't familiarized with the rules before the fight, sensei," you shrugged, pleased with your accomplishment, and he couldn't get over the way you made the word 'sensei' sound. Suddenly he wished to hear it somewhere else, somewhere other than the school's training grounds or classrooms.

"Now I declare the end of the training."

And Satoru's lips were once again pressed to yours, taking your breath away.

» PART TWO

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 months

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Favors and Debts

Part II

Pairing: fae!Yuji/Sukuna x reader

Warnings: noncon, yandere, a bit of smut, murder, captivity, stalking, violence (not towards reader), Sukuna having a purity kink.

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Of all creatures fickle and cruel, the fair folk are the ones inspiring fear and awe alike. You were unlucky enough to save one of them from captivity, and now you must pay for it.

Part I

________________

He lied to you. Since the night he ordered all his captors slaughtered, he has been following you like a shadow, waiting for you to slip up and finally let him in. Have you drown in your nightmares until you'd crack under pressure and take down your door clad in iron, throw away the mirrors of all shapes and sizes hanging down the walls of your tiny apartment.

You have resisted thus far. You've learned to live with a wicked fae breathing down your neck.

At first, you only saw him in your dreams. A response to a severe trauma, the doctors said, nodding knowingly. You haven't told them Yuji was one of the little folk: it was futile. Men of science would think you damaged beyond repair if you believed in elves and fairies. An abused man dreaming of revenge for 7 long years? Now, this was something. Of course, he could have found accomplices. Of course, they could have murdered men and women of the village. You kept quiet, letting police and doctors make their own conclusions. Nothing could be done to help dead villagers, anyway.

Then, one day, the fae boy came to the apothecary, where you worked as a junior pharmacist. He has been wearing the face of an unremarkable city man who needed his stomach pills. When you turned away to the shelves and reached for them, he caged you with his body, somehow slipping through the counter, and murmured against your ear, "I'll eat your heart, little bird."

When you turned around in frenzy, hands shaking, expecting to find Yuji with his six horrifying hands ready to tear you apart, you found only an average-looking city man trying to hide a yawn behind the counter. He wasn't a fae. He was human, just like you, and yet Yuji found a way into him like found a way in your dreams.

You were never alone. He has been watching you like a hawk, making sure you never grew close to anyone, especially not men. Once there was a handsome boy with whom you exchanged pleasantries far too many times for fae's liking, and he took over him for a couple of seconds, face changing to Yuji's, black symbols appearing on his skin as he looked you up and down, the corners of his mouth tugged just slightly upward. "Keep yourself pure for me," the fae whispered into your ear as you stood frozen, afraid to move until the boy became himself again.

Least to say, you could afford having neither lovers nor friends. God knows what that fae would do to them if he could force himself into their bodies without much of a struggle.

Sometimes, you dreamt of different Yuji. That Yuji was just a kind fatherless boy who made jokes when you bandaged his hands and thanked you so sincerely when you gave him the ointment for treating his wounds. He nealry cried when you brought him your food and hid his face in his palms out of shame for having to rely on a young woman's pity. He was gentle with horses and dogs, and they flocked to him like he was their master, only enraging the villagers further.

Although you tried not to think of it much, you missed that boy. If it were him visiting your dreams, you wouldn't even mind.

The years are flying by, and soon the promised time will be up, but you aren't afraid. Your room is full of iron and mirrors. The door and every window are lined with a thick layer of salt. There's a sack of dried rowan berries under your pillow. Your stomach doesn't let you have as much sleeping pills as you like, but dreams are just dreams. He can't drag you away through them to his realm, or he would've done it already.

But it's the last night of the seventh year, and when you are running the streets of the city back to your safe heaven, you know you aren't asleep this time, the fairy catching up with you, his speed utterly terrifying. You barely have time to fly up the stairs, trying to lock your heavy door, but he is behind you, forcing you inside: the gushes of wind swipe the layers of salt you so cautiously poured on the floor, and the mirrors fall down the walls, all cracking like they're made of thin ice.

"I've waited for so long for you to show me the way," he says in a low voice, a grin lightening up his handsome features, and you see he is no longer a boy but a man, his shoulders a mile wide, his two heavy arms splitting in six again in front of your very eyes. "I have been patient, little bird."

You weren't, you want to say, but your tongue is numb, and so is your body as the fae advances on you, reaching out his many hands to place them on your face, your waist, and your hips. He seems content with how much you tremble before him.

"The brat misses you," he whispers, his hand tender on your chin as he makes you look up at him, and you raise your brows, unsure you heard him right. He laughs as you. "The boy. Yuji."

You blink. Isn't Yuji just a false name the villagers gave a fae to hide his true one? Why does he refer to him as his own person?

Because he is, the realization strikes you.

"Are you using Yuji's body?" You whimper, eyes already wet as you think of the tremendous difference between a gentle boy in the barn and a cruel creature taunting you in your dreams.

The fae smiles back at you, his face inches away from yours.

"If only you knew how much he pleads me to let you go," he bares his sharp teeth at you like a predator ready to pounce on his prey. "Poor child. He's been in love with you ever since you kicked away that iron girdle."

Horrified, you feel blood rushing to your head as you frantically think what to say, not realizing the fae keeps nudging you towards your bed, towering over you like a giant, mirrors coming further apart under his feet. His fingers are rough and calloused, but he is strangely gentle as if a part of him wishes you well. Is it him? Yuji, the kind boy, trying not to hurt you? Or is it his frightening master trying to trick you into submission?

When the fae lifts up your cotton dress, he tenderly strokes your skin until he reaches your waist, relief strangely washing over his sharp features. "You aren't wearing a girdle."

Biting down on your lips, you look at your ceiling, tears trailing down your cheeks. You thought of it. Iron was convenient to use against the fair folk, and many maidens in fairytales wore them as a protection against the fae charming their way in girls' bedrooms. Surely, with your rooms stuffed full of anything made of iron, it only made sense to wear something as well. And yet... and yet every time you went to blacksmith to commission a piece, you thought of wounded Yuji, his face pale, palms bleeding from the iron girdle forced into his hands.

In the end, you never bought it.

"My pliant little bird," he whispers against your bare skin and you squeeze your eyes shut, thinking how foolish you were to believe you can fend him off with your heavy iron door and mirrors hanging down your walls.

He lays you on your bed, carefully avoiding its iron frame, and soon you realize you are no longer in your room, your bed simply levitating somewhere in the dark, the fae your only companion. You're gone. Your time is finally up, and no one will save you from the monster who has been chasing you since the night you freed him from his shackles.

"Why are you cruel to me?" You ask him in a small voice, head on the pillow as he caresses the inner side of your thighs. "I've done you no wrong."

The fae laughs, "Cruel? You are to wed the Fairy King, little girl. I'll even give you that human brat as a wedding present. Now, stop crying and spread your pretty legs for me."

THE END

__________

Tags: @minshookie29

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere

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fastcardotmp3 · 11 months

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I'm not usually the audience for most kid fic content HOWEVER the idea of Eddie falling into a circumstance where he becomes the Uncle Wayne to some other kid who has nowhere else to go has me by the throat today

like. circular narratives.... hear me out....

maybe Eddie did have a sibling, a sister ten years older than him who was out of the house and as far away as she could manage before he even ended up in Hawkins with Wayne. maybe he and his sister didn't keep in touch because by the time she had her footing in the world well enough to come back and see him, Eddie was long gone already.

maybe she ends up in worse situations than he does by nature of not having a Wayne of her own to teach her what it feels like to have someone stick around for you and maybe one of those situations is ending up with a kid she's not equipped to take care of, no matter how much she tries.

she needs help, needs backup, needs someone to take this 10-year-old in and give her safety while her mother gets healthy and tries to learn what it means to be stable.

And hey, listen, Eddie Munson is 27 at this point, he's had seven years to heal from the bullshit Hawkins put him through and he's still working hard every day to keep that momentum going, but a child?

he's not a father, not an uncle, take her to Wayne for fuck's sake, he begs of his sister even though he knows deep down he doesn't mean it, not when Wayne has finally retired, finally has some stability of his own.

what other option do I have? I need you, Ed, is begged of him in return, and he hears her, he does, but what does he have to offer in this situation?

he's a mechanic with PTSD and a one-bedroom in Bloomington who's been pining for his best friend the former jock-turned-part time student for the past two years.

he's a wreck and a half who has nothing but lateral moves to make in his future and has to set three different alarm clocks to wake himself up in time for work every morning and he's just-- Eddie. That's all he is. That's all he has to offer.

It can't possibly be enough.

What's her name? he asks despite himself, out here on the sidewalk in front of his place of work where he'd been ambushed, where he knows Steve will be pulling into the spot across the street to pick him up any minute.

Naomi, is the answer, and she will be, even if Eddie doesn't see it yet.

There's no part of Eddie Munson which has ever dreamed of trips to the park and helping with homework and drives to the mall to buy presents for birthday parties.

There's no part of him which has ever sought out parenthood to anything other than the stray cat who likes to beg for treats at his back door.

There's no part of him which is built for this, Eddie knows, as he sees the familiar shape of a familiar car parking across the street and idling.

Naomi, he breathes anyway, looks down at the photograph being pressed into his hand, the untamed curls and missing front teeth.

She's sitting on the front steps of a trailer, sun shining down on her and pinking up the bridge of her nose and it's him for a moment. It's him, loved unequivocally by a guy who never planned to have kids, never wanted them, and loved Eddie with everything he had to offer despite it.

It's him, the little boy that still lives in Eddie's chest, just asking not to be forgotten.

You're all she's got right now, Eddie.

Well, shit.

He's gonna need to put a call into Wayne, isn't he?

#dot post #dot fic #eddie munson #steddie #dad!eddie munson #kind of #the only way these dudes end up with kids is via some sort of circular circumstance but BOY the CIRCUMSTANCE of it all....#found the first three paras of this in my drafts and today me was like you know what?#past me made points

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bluecollarmcandtf · 6 days

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"Dude, I took over your dad's body.."

"...and goddamn is there a lot of him to work with! I've been a ghost for years now, but I've never been inside a 6' 3" ex-linebacker! I've been checking him out all afternoon, and let me tell you that this man is big and hairy all over," he punctuates his comment with a wink.

Your dad, the man you've looked up to your entire life, is saying things you don't want to think about while casually laying on the couch in nothing but a robe and booty shorts. The urge to puke is suppressed, but you know that Jimmy has crossed a line here. Your deceased friend has possessed bullies, professors, and more, but he's never had the balls to take over your own family. What was he thinking?

"I jumped into him while he was at work. I think his coworkers probably found it strange when I picked up his briefcase and waddled his ass out the door," Jimmy chuckles at the memory, "But don't worry. Your old man had plenty of sick days he wasn't gonna use."

It doesn't take long for you to burst out in anger at the spirit controlling your father. Your face is hot, and you can't stand to watch your dad get puppetted around like a fool!

"Calm the fuck down!" he swears uncharacteristically, "Give this big guy a hug. Come here. Daddy needs some love..."

The thought of hugging your father while he's being forced to act like this feels wrong, but you relent. A part of you is glad for the embrace. It might not actually be your dad, but paternal comfort is exactly what you need right now, and your real dad isn't the type to give his child a hug.

"That's it, son," Jimmy pets your head with your father's thick hands, "Let daddy take care of you. Let your dumb old fart-of-a-father give you some much-needed attention."

You can't help but chuckle at the self-deprecating joke. Your real dad was too proud to laugh at himself, and he'd never made an effort to be anything other than distant and formal with you. In fact, there was a lot your real dad would never do; he'd never leave the office in the middle of the day, he'd never lay around the house like a lazy bum, and he'd certainly never let his hairy chest and thick legs be on full display in front of his disappointing gay son.

Suddenly, while still embraced, you realize there's something poking into your waist.

"Sorry, dude," your father whispers in your ear, "I guess your dad is just happy to see you."

You push him away, insisting that Jimmy needs to stay out of family members' bodies because this just feels so wrong! You search the pair of unnaturally blank eyes for any sign that Jimmy might be listening to you.

"You need to relax, bro," your dad (Jimmy) groans in annoyance. He looks disappointed, but then he sparks up and gives you a new look of excitement. "Son," he says with exaggerated machismo, "Take a page from my book and learn to chill out. It doesn't matter what the world thinks about you or me. I'll prove it to you..."

With a placid grin and blank gaze, your father lumbers past and marches straight out the front door of the house. You're almost too stunned to follow. Was Jimmy really going to parade your dad's body around the neighborhood in nothing but his robe?

"Afternoon, neighbor," your father's rumbling tone bellows across the street, "Lovely weather, today. My son thought I should take my fat hairy gut for a little stroll in the sun. You know us dads have got to keep our boys happy. Am I right?"

Mr. Jones stares at your father from his porch, just as shocked as you are. He often drank beers with this man and every other neighborhood dad at backyard barbecues and living room game watches. This was not how he normally interacted with the man, and it obviously struck him as weird.

"You alright, Bob?" he asks hesitantly.

"Right as rain, neighbor!" Jimmy answers with a tone that's too goofy to pass as my dad's, "If that's how you're staring at me now, I wonder what'll happen if I take this robe off..."

Before Mr. Jones can process the flirtation in your father's voice, you shuffle your dad further down the street and away from the whole interaction. That may have been hilarious, but Jimmy was going to destroy any reputation and respect your father had around here!

You demand to know where Jimmy is going with this body. It's not like you have any ability to even slow the ghost down when he's got the weight and strength of your 200 lb father.

"I'm thinking the park. Your dad could use some cardio," he smirks, an unfamiliar expression on the grown man's face, "Or maybe the public bathroom on the north end. You know, it has that hole in the stall..."

No amount of reasoning or arguments can change Jimmy's mind. Apparently he's set on wearing your father to the city's most notorious gay hookup spot.

"Don't look at me like that," his gravelly voice sounds amused by your frustration, "With me in charge, your dad will be the dirtiest slut that bathroom's ever seen. Don't you think it'll be funny to see such a massive, manly bear serving man after man in there?"

You sigh in disbelief.

"Or...maybe I don't have to rent out your dad's body to a bunch of strangers..."

You wonder where he's going with this. It sounds like an ultimatum is coming, and you don't like the idea of your crazy dead friend giving you an ultimatum.

"...your dad could hold off on bottoming for strangers...if...you let him be your submissive little bitch."

The choice is an annoying one, but you're pretty sure you can't let your dad have unprotected sex with strangers in a public place. This is what he'd want right?

"That's what I thought," the grin on your father's face twists maniacally. He tussles your hair like he's the proudest dad in the world, "Let's head on back home, buddy. Daddy's gonna lick every inch of sweat off that body of yours. He's got years of emotional absence to make up for."

One of his beefy arms cradles your back and turns you around. You're relieved to no longer be headed towards the public bathroom, but you're still a little nervous about what awaits you at home. How does Jimmy expect you to enjoy any of this when it's your dad doing all these things to you?

"Daddy's gonna treat you to a night that's all about you," he goes on, "Cooking you dinner, rubbing your feet, cuddling on the couch, and so much more. I want you to think of some humiliating things daddy can do for you while we walk back. Make sure they're extra degrading or your dad will just have to step out of the house and degrade himself where the entire city can see..."

The last comment gives you butterflies in your stomach, but it also gives you a bit of a hard-on. Maybe Jimmy playing with your dad wasn't so scary of an idea after all. With him possessed, anything was on the table: personal affirmations, some much needed bonding, roleplay, revenge, humiliation. Heck, you could even give your father a golden shower and Jimmy would have him smiling through it!

Walking home, you steal glances at your dad, towering over you as his rotund gut leads the way. Home can't come fast enough!

#gay dad and son #male possession #gay dad bod #male mind control #body swap #gay fatty

185 notes · View notes

ataraxiaspainting · 3 months

Text

Chrollo Lucilfer Yandere Analysis.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, not SFW (both non-con and dub-con), the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectfully, forced tattooing, Chrollo having a god complex but that's nothing new lol, Stockholm Syndrome, stalking, parallels to religion (mainly Judeo-Christianity), implied body transformation (using Chrollo’s book), masturbation, manipulation, and violence/gore.

Word Count: 13k.

credits to @ddarker-dreams for the yandere MBTI and like everything she writes for this creepy greaseball (check her out if you haven’t already!!) <33333

another thanks to @depravitycentral for the inspiration! check them out too!!!! their general profile and nsfw profile for mr. chrollo specifically BUT everything they write is pretty good! <33333

one last thanks to @phasmophobia-territory for the ultimate yandere types list and @blughxreader for the yandere personality meme. both have inspired the unique qualities part of this analysis, so please be sure to check them out! <333

also, for quotes i tried to do something like genshin impact/honkai: star rail voicelines so i apologize if they aren’t good (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

*~*~*~*

I look forward to living life with you from here on out. However, just know that there will be many different roads we will walk together on. Their lengths will depend on you, for better or for worse. As time goes on, however, I know that they will all end eventually.

→ Introduction.

The very definition of an empty shell, Chrollo has had his humanity stripped of him from a very young age. The only people who have ever made him feel something are all members of the Troupe or are buried underground, burning in hell or soaring above the clouds as angels, either one a much better existence than the life they all spent in Meteor City. So, when he sees you, someone who has been able to make him feel something without interacting with him at all, without the use of Nen, without even brushing your shoulder against him while running to your train in a hurry, he does not know what to do.

He feels like he is back to being a small child, roaming the streets and looking through dumpsters for anything of value trying to ignore the pain of the cuts and infections all over his body. You bring up a feeling he has not felt in years; fear. Despite this situation being far, far different from those times, his brain thinks otherwise. It sends him a fight or flight response every time he sees you, as much as he hides it, much like he hides himself among the crowds and crowds of people as he follows you home. You have resurrected a beast thought to be long dead, something innate, animal, almost carnal, without even lifting a finger.

Is this who he is, he wonders? He finally feels something, for once, a sense of belonging and identity and… humanity.

It fills him with a sense of euphoria, while you view it with dread every time his Zetsu slips for just a moment. You always look over your shoulder during those times and start walking faster, but definitely not enough to deter him, and it will never be enough.

→ Darling Character Analysis.

Creative.

Chrollo has a deep curiosity about the world and appreciates a darling who shares this thirst for knowledge and intellectual growth. The form of expression doesn't matter to him, whether it's through writing, music, or eloquent speech. What truly matters to Chrollo is that his darling can communicate uniquely and authentically.

In a concerning manner, Chrollo imitates his darling’s behaviors to an extreme degree, devouring everything they do with an insatiable appetite. It doesn't matter how his darling presents their interests to him, whether it's straightforward or not. For instance, if his darling mentions their love for playing the violin after spending days alone with only Chrollo for company, the next day a brand new violin will mysteriously appear on the table beside their side of the bed. Chrollo will secretly learn to play the violin himself, the one he purchased as well as the one he gifted to his darling, practicing when they are not paying attention or are fast asleep.

As a result, his darling may find themselves obligated to reciprocate this behavior by learning Chrollo's favorite musical pieces.

He will experience immense joy, perhaps so much that he will hold them down on the bed and shower their face with kisses while they squirm and kick. Even when they eventually stop, he will continue, disregarding their pleas for him to stop.

As always, his strength is overpowering, leaving you with no action to do other than to say no.

At least there is some form of care after it is all over and done with, although it always somehow involves blending with whatever activity preceded it. For instance, if it was playing the violin, he would play you with both your favorite pieces on the gramophone he put near the bathtub while giving you a massage and preparing a relaxing bath for both of you.

It is painful, more so than the usual ache between your legs, because he pays attention to your desires and exploits them, even when he appears to be gentle. The pain lingers, no matter how hard you try to disconnect from everything happening around you.

He gives you everything you want, and it hurts because you always know why.

Bold.

A darling who never hides their intentions and just goes for it would spark some sort of admiration in Chrollo, especially if they use their boldness on him as a manipulation tactic.

He finds it entertaining most of all, but also there is a small part of him that is grateful for it because it makes his darling seem more human to him and not just something to own.

Boldness is quite a human trait, one that he so adores, especially with those he holds close like fellow members of the Troupe. It is also quite a trait that can easily be manipulated.

If you attempt to flirt to lower his guard, he will flirt back twice as hard.

When everything is over and done with, he will admit he knows exactly what you are doing as he kisses you again, you not kissing him back this time, as good as your acting was, much to your horror.

Resourceful.

Chrollo sees himself above the rest of man, a God in his way, so a darling who is quite similar to him he would adore.

That is not to say he could not fall for someone the complete opposite of him, someone who is impulsive and wears their heart on their sleeve and everything else he does not and cannot do, but the probability is low compared to a darling that plans everything and keeps their cards close, much as he does.

That makes escape attempts though, quite common, considering how resourceful his darling can be, like using a file to saw the metal in one of his safes or the iron on their leg keeping them in his penthouse. But he loves it, it is one of his favorite things about them.

It is endless entertainment to him, a sort of fight against himself, albeit he is much, much stronger when it comes to wits most likely. You can think on your feet as much as you want, but so will he.

He will mirror their actions until the end.

Independent.

Much like his beloved's cleverness, he derives amusement from their self-reliance. He takes pleasure in dismantling their barriers bit by bit until they have no choice but to rely on him completely.

Indeed, Chrollo views his beloved as simultaneously superior and inferior to him.

There is no equality between them, only a shifting power dynamic that his beloved will soon discover. They will never be certain if his actions, like retrieving their favorite snack from the top shelf of the pantry, are expressions of love or gestures of mockery.

At times, it may be both. At times, it may be neither.

His thoughts remain inscrutable, and he revels in it.

Cunning.

Chrollo loves it when your eyebrows furrow, when you’re deep in focus, especially when you are trying to come up with an escape plan and not noticing him right behind you, because of that expression on your face.

It’s unholy, the way he worships you with sacrifices both living and not. He wants to ruin you, yet keep you as you are. So, after a long time of pondering, he concludes. He will remake your shape, not enough to completely alter it, but just enough for your walls to tumble down and let him in. That is why while he will let you try and try again to escape, he will still attempt to get into your head. He is like a poison, a parasite, imprisoning you in your fears, insecurities, and plans that are doomed to fail sooner or later. It is what he wants to be, but he also wants to be more.

More and more he will be, and more and more he will take from you. It is only natural to want more than what is given, correct?

It is how Chrollo and the other Troupe members survived so long in Meteor City. They take and take, not caring who they hurt because it is human instinct to want and seize. He will argue as such whenever you try to guilt him because you will soon know that he holds no shame in whatever he does. He is selfish, and he wants to stay that way. He wants you to do the same, so he loves it when you fight him or try to run away because he knows it is only nature. Nature will run its course regardless of who wants it to not. Nature does not care, so why should he? Why should you?

But he also wants you to not be as selfish as him, despite him knowing that it most likely will not be unless you are broken down enough. But that is fine, Chrollo tells himself because that time will eventually arise.

Mature.

Maturity is an elusive quality that characterizes Chrollo, yet eludes him as well. It ebbs and flows like a breeze, carrying seeds to unknown destinations, beyond the perception of onlookers. Unfortunately, you, the observer, are an unwilling participant in the multitude of games he plays and the various disguises he dons. Occasionally, Chrollo can act impulsively, adopting yet another facade acquired from others in the interludes of his life. However, there are moments when he patiently waits for the opportune time to strike, akin to a cunning serpent. But this outcome relies on your level of vigilance or innocence. Perhaps, one day, you'll find it best to surrender to his will. Chrollo eagerly anticipates that day.

Hardworking.

Chrollo feels a mix of jealousy and a desire for control when he sees someone truly dedicated to their pursuits. He wants to replicate their passion and adopt a similar persona. At the same time, he is intrigued by their determination and ambition, as he wants to understand every aspect of their character. This admiration creates a thrilling challenge for him, as he seeks to imitate their drive while also appreciating it. He wants to both admire and exploit this trait to engage in a game of cat and mouse until they submit. Perhaps it would be good to do just that, to prevent yourself from getting hurt again.

Observant.

Chrollo finds great pleasure in the thrill of the hunt, especially when his keen-eyed darling begins to notice subtle indications of being watched. These signs, carefully planted by Chrollo himself, make his darling increasingly cautious. For Chrollo, taking risks brings great rewards. Although these signs are intentional, they still hold, don't they? A lingering footstep behind them. A faint smile on a stranger's face, an unfamiliar figure lurking in an alley near his companion's residence. These signals confirm that they are being stalked, and Chrollo is entertained by the fact that their sharp instincts assure them that this is no mere coincidence or misunderstanding.

Logical.

Chrollo's beloved should possess some semblance of logic, even if it deviates from conventional understanding. The key lies in their thought process, rather than adherence to reason. This cognitive approach, be it driven by emotions or rationality, captivates Chrollo. They meticulously evaluate facts, evidence, and outcomes, exercising caution in moments of perceived advantage, as well as during bouts of insecurity and danger, where they must think quickly on their feet. This mental calculus can either serve them well or inadvertently lead to their downfall. They carefully weigh the pros and cons, thus fueling Chrollo's insatiable desire for the fun of the chase, which hinges upon ultimately catching his beloved in the act.

A Leader.

If you hold a position of leadership, whether at work or among friends, this situation will be even more perplexing and distressing for you. In an instant, you were no longer in charge, forcibly removed from your familiar surroundings and confined. Your authority, influence, and status, which held great significance, have been stripped away. You may experience a profound sense of helplessness and powerlessness as if all your hard work has been unjustly taken from you. Chrollo, as your captor, will seek to exert even more control over you if you possess the characteristic of leadership. He finds it ironic that you are now compelled to follow him, forever robbed of the opportunity to lead while you remain in captivity.

Confident Outside, Insecure Inside.

Chrollo takes great pleasure in this particular attribute, as a mere few words, be they soothing or otherwise, have the power to manipulate you effortlessly.

You find yourself compelled to dance and sing, controlled by invisible strings or some intangible force, as there seems to be no other recourse in this predicament. After enduring prolonged isolation, you will unquestioningly revere Chrollo's words, no matter how distorted they may be, treating them as a testament to be praised. And Chrollo eagerly anticipates the arrival of that day.

It instills fear in you, as both of you are aware that such a day will inevitably arrive.

With a few choice words, Chrollo can elicit tears or smiles from you, a feat that few others have managed to accomplish.

You despise it, while Chrollo utterly loves it. Intelligent.

Intelligence encompasses a wide range of abilities, making it possible for Chrollo to be drawn to various types. However, what truly captivates him is a darling who possesses either linguistic or interpersonal intelligence, or even better, both. He desires someone who can effortlessly decipher people's intentions, using words that ignite a fire within him, even if those words are aimed at him or others.

The type or types of intelligence his darling possesses greatly influences their relationship. How he presents himself in public, whether as a kind gentleman or someone who keeps his distance, depends on their emotional intelligence and intuition. Additionally, Chrollo finds it incredibly appealing when his darling shares a specific interest that is completely new to him. This not only allows him to learn something new but also adds another mask to his ever-expanding collection.

Someone who is emotionally intelligent, like his beloved, would pose a challenge for him to manipulate. They possess the ability to understand him better than most, making it all the more satisfying for Chrollo when they succumb to his desires. After all, as Chrollo often says, the greater the risk, the greater the reward.

→ Yandere MBTI: CAMS. (Cruel, Aware, Manipulative, Strict)

Chrollo possesses great skill in dismantling individuals but lacks the necessary expertise to reconstruct them according to his vision. Unfortunately, you have become an unwilling participant in his experiments. Share with him your deepest anguish and vulnerabilities. Chrollo also portrays himself as a universal remedy, claiming that he holds the power to alleviate all your suffering and resolve your troubles, provided you heed his advice.

However, he waits until he has captured you, and your defenses have crumbled. In that moment of vulnerability, when you are cut off from the world, consumed by sorrow, unable to eat or speak, he reveals himself as a deity. He extends his hand to you, leading you along a path he meticulously constructed. This path is filled with suffering, a never-ending cycle of waiting for both of you. But at the end of this dark tunnel lies Chrollo's ultimate desire: your affection.

What is your ultimate pain, what is your ultimate wish? I can provide anything and everything for you, beloved if you do not stray away from the light.

If you happen to encounter him in public before he abducts you, it is because he willingly allows you to do so, aiming to create a favorable impression that will prevent you from suspecting his true intentions. However, if you do find yourself growing suspicious, it is not without justification. Nevertheless, he will persist in attempting to dispel your doubts by showering you with more gifts and displaying gentlemanly behavior such as pulling out your chair and kissing your hand or inner wrist. Yet, everything appears excessively flawless, to the extent of inducing nausea. Everything is so… flawless all of the time, but only when you are around him and him alone. Ironically, despite Chrollo's desire to dissuade your wariness towards him, his tender and kind gestures only evoke fear.

Chrollo effortlessly switches between portraying himself as a divine figure and a malevolent force, adapting to the circumstances at hand. On one hand, he displays an uncanny perfection, never making a mistake and seemingly possessing an understanding of your thoughts and emotions even before you do. On the other hand, he reveals his true nature as pure evil by casually initiating a bet to see who can consume the most alcohol, leaving you as an unwilling participant in this game of his. As soon as you become intoxicated, he unveils himself as the embodiment of wickedness, groaning as your clothes rip off and you cry his mouth is on yours and he keeps murmuring things into your ear that are so much more terrifying than sweet and-

Panaceas are eternal, refusing to fade away, regardless of your preferences. And so is this situation with me, my dearest.

Chrollo often repeats the phrase that he would sacrifice his life for you. However, there is doubt as to whether he truly means it. His actions, whether they be subtle or overt, inflict daily harm upon you, both mentally and physically. He disguises his hurtful behavior as casual conversation, a serious one, and everything in between. Chrollo's self-centered nature raises the question of why he would make such a claim.

You remain unaware of his true intentions, as Chrollo holds the knowledge of what is genuine and what is fabricated close to his chest. He perpetuates this ambiguity, ensuring that you will never uncover the truth. Once again, Chrollo finds himself in a position of guilt, but the specific charges remain unknown. As an impartial judge, you can't discern between deceit and honesty when you have never been taught the difference. Chrollo, determined to maintain this state of uncertainty, ensures that the truth remains elusive, no matter what lengths he has to go to to make sure it stays that way.

Chrollo possesses the ability to assume various roles. He can portray himself as a reliable partner rather than a deceitful captor, a compassionate individual rather than a mass murderer, a savior rather than someone in need of rescue... The possibilities are endless. This charade is not merely a game to him, but a necessity to maintain his façade. Even if he desired to, he could never remove these disguises, as he is oblivious to his true identity, because who is he without his lies? Nothing? It is a sorrowful predicament for both me and him, you will think someday, one that may prompt you to ponder whether it is Stockholm Syndrome or your inherent empathy for others.

At some point, you will allow him to take what he desires, whether it be when he reaches a breaking point and loses control, or when you become desperate for any form of human interaction.

Whenever you are in need, call out my name. I will be there to provide whatever cure you desire for the ailment at hand.

→ Unique Qualities.

Yandere Type:

Possessive.

Chrollo in one word would be selfish, and he himself would not deny that it suits him quite well.

Whatever he touches turns to gold in the most metaphorical sense. Whenever he sees something he wants, he will take it. Everything Chrollo takes either has rhyme and reason to it or none at all. He turns them into gold as a sign of who owns them. Even if you have fallen or will eventually fall prey to this touch. The golden touch immobilizes you so you never ever leave him.

Like King Midas, he is selfish, and he takes pride in it. He is never humble in anything he does. That much is certain. He holds you in his arms at night like he knows your weight in gold, that he could never lose you as he lost himself all those years ago. His kisses are gentle when he wants them to be, or they can be as aggressive as he wants them to be. You’ll come to learn that it does not matter what you want, what matters is what Chrollo wants. Does not having a say in your hell hurt? Or does not having a choice help you justify to yourself that you must escape this?

Monitoring. (Watches From Afar / Direct Contact)

Really, it is Shalnark that does most of the work here, but it is still worth mentioning, especially since what Chrollo cannot get through traditional stalking alone, he asks a very teasing Shalnark to get for him. Though, if Shalnark fails, Feitan is put to the task, much to Feitan’s quite less than subtle annoyance, not that he would ever voice it. Through this trio, the work is separated into three strategies.

Chrollo’s way of finding information is as classic as it comes. Either he is observing you go about your usual day, to that coffee shop you visit before going to work, to the library you frequent on the weekends, to a park you like walking in to see the birds and to get a change of scenery while you read, or he is inside your home, looking through drawers, sampling some leftovers even from your fridge, and making a literal list of things to buy you either later or in the present moment and things to take with him when he inevitably steals you away. Shalnark’s way comes through the internet, through placing cameras in your home and showing Chrollo the footage day in and day out, and perhaps even making an online friend of you if you are that social with other people. To him, it’s all child’s play, especially with finding family members and friends of yours for later, to perhaps ask them questions under the guise of a fellow friend of yours even. But the information that neither Shalnark nor Chrollo can get from stalking alone relies on Feitan, which is where all the finding people you know and love trickle down and puddle at the bottom of this sort of vial of differing plans. This is a last resort, sort of, because there are better things that Feitan can be doing, really, but he is nothing less than loyal to Chrollo and the other Spiders, so he’ll find people who may know the answers his boss was looking for.

He does not blame Chrollo, because if the information was something even Shalnark could not find, it is something so secretive that it could metaphorically be so beneath the waves that it is on the bottom of the ocean floor.

Feitan takes on the role of the more experienced diver because he wants to make Chrollo happy.

Thankfully for most of those you know, only a maximum of perhaps five people are flicked off before you are brought to whatever penthouse Chrollo has bought for the next month or so. The rest can continue with their lives as it was, not that Feitan cares or Shalnark cares or Chrollo cares, except for poor, poor you.

Removing Nuisances. (Murder Likelihood: 8/10)

Similarly to gathering information about you, dealing with rivals follows a similar sort of hierarchy. Chrollo follows them, albeit with far less care and perhaps even stealing a few things along the way, if the rivals are rich enough, though that is quite rare to happen. Instead, he would try to threaten them through anonymous emails or letters, perhaps even with a photo of them sleeping thrown into the mix. But if that does not work, Shalnark is up next, digging up past searches and buyings that the rival perhaps regrets or wants to remain hidden. It could be anything, really, and soon this information will start to spread like a flame until the rival’s reputation is utterly ruined. If the rival is still stubborn about wanting to be romantically involved with you, Feitan is last, burying a corpse underground that looks far from the human it once was by the end of it all, and Feitan, unsurprisingly, likes this sort of business rather than simply lying in wait for a friend of yours to unfortunately cross his path.

Perhaps even Chrollo will join Feitan in this session or sessions. It sometimes happens, when Chrollo is too pent up or feeling especially angry, although he hides it well with a smile that is a bit too wide, at this rival in particular. By the end of it, when both he and Feitan look like they took a bath in blood with their clothes on, Chrollo laughs, and Feitan snickers. He feels good, both of them do. Maybe this is why Chrollo is so taken with you, Feitan wonders. The power and control that comes with you… it’s utterly addicting, isn’t it?

Adam and Eve. (Absolute Isolation) (Kidnapping Likelihood: 10/10)

Before he takes you away, Chrollo makes sure that whatever he cannot replace he takes with him. This includes memorabilia, photos, family heirlooms if you have any, and even annotated novels you have on your bookshelf with notes sticking out of them like sore thumbs. He manages to take it all away easily, just like he does with you. Chrollo, despite how selfish he is, still wants in some capacity to make you happy. In your “adapting stage”, you may be able to hide away from him in the bathroom and lock the door, but at least you will have the choice to continue whatever hobbies you had before that Chrollo allows you to do while you are self-isolating.

He sees this small reason for you not to hate him entirely as a win. A triumph followed by many others to come.

Collector’s Habit. (Comfortable Imprisonment / Chains + Cages)

Chrollo’s penthouse is lined with things both of significance to him and you. Almost all of it is stuff that he has stolen, however, not that he cares. The paintings lined up in the dining room, the many pretty dresses put in your closet and you are forced to wear, the jewelry that he clasps onto your neck and fingers and wrists like chains, all of them are stolen in some capacity or another.

The things that he had stolen from your home all look like they belong there, almost. Your favorite pink beret placed next to a porcelain plate of macaroons and fruit a note telling you to get ready for a date later in the evening, an old photo of you placed in a frame that ought to be at least three hours worth of your salary, your most cherished books all lined up next to Chrollo’s own, all the covers and sizes somewhat similar to one another that it almost drives you mad. It brings Chrollo comfort, while it brings you ire.

Possibly, you’ll read one of his Dostoevsky pieces when you think he is gone, or you’ll try on one of his many fur coats when it gets too chilly or when you are curious. But curiosity always finds a way to kill the cat, because when you think you are not going to be caught, Chrollo finds a way to sneak up behind you and simply observe, smirking, even when you see him.

Attention-Seeking.

Chrollo has always been one to utterly enjoy being in the limelight. He loves acting parts, playing parts as classy as a Prince Charming to a part as scheming as a villain that has locked the princess in a tower. You get both, the unlucky person you are. He gives you roses and proclaims poems and confessions of absolute love and undying loyalty, but you then remember that he is the one that trapped you here, to begin with.

This life that was forced upon you is a fairytale very close to cracking and falling apart, but never does.

You are forced to be a helpless maiden waiting for a knight in shining armor to rescue her, but unfortunately for you, that knight is also the very evildoer in this story. So, you try to be your own knight, your own prince, but it will never be as close or as real as an actual hero. So, your attempts fail, regardless of how long they were in the making. You are not strong enough, not fast enough, and you simply cannot write your own ending in this whimsical tale if Chrollo is always aware of them.

But you come up with a plan that takes weeks upon weeks and months upon months for it to bear fruit.

You'll comply with his desires and make your getaway when he least anticipates it. Thus, you're compelled to dance with Chrollo, flawlessly and without objection, to safeguard your plan. However, with each movement, it feels as though nails are penetrating your foot, for you're uncertain if Chrollo is aware of your actions, and it fills you with immense fear.

But it is too late to back out of this, so you keep on doing this waltz.

Eliminating Rivals.

The basement, as always, is filled with dust and dirt with insects both alive and dead scattered on the floor next to Feitan’s equipment. Chrollo does not mind it, though, despite him still wearing the suit he wore when he was following you to the train station, the route you usually took to get back from your best friend’s house to your place. He does not like her, but he decides to let her still do whatever with her life as she pleases, unlike the person currently zip-tied to one of the rusty chairs with broken legs. As long as she does not try to seek to be more than friends with you, she’ll be safe from harm. Even though Chrollo’s gut is telling him that she will try, that she will kiss you, say “I love you” to you and maybe go on top of you in bed and-

He tries not to think about it, he is already behind schedule enough as it is, though he could just make Feitan do the work by himself. He tries not to think about it because he has to start preparing his penthouse for your arrival soon to come. He has already purchased some new comforter sets for the bedroom, along with some of the skincare products he knows you use in the bathroom. He’s busy, too busy to involve himself with something other than torturing this man and getting back on track. He focuses on the scene ahead, trying not to think about that friend of yours or the barista who always looks at you for a tad bit too long. If he let his emotions and not logic control him, he would have murdered half this town already and left love notes on their headstones.

He looks at the man, covered in his own blood, his own vomit, his own feces from being confined there for days before Chrollo arrived, deathly thin from starvation and dehydration. From what Feitan told him, Feitan gouged out one eye one day and the other eye the next day, leaving him blind and weeping, his vocal cords far-reaching past their limit, crying out gibberish like some sort of animal, something not too conscious enough of its surroundings to be anything considered even near human.

“Fei, do you hear that?”

“...I do.”

Sexual Drive: 5/10.

Chrollo knows most of what there is to know about sex, but not for his own pleasure. He uses this knowledge mainly in intelligence gathering, when Shalnark, Feitan, and even Pakunoda are not able to get the information the Troupe needs for their next heist. He holds sex with little to no emotional value because of this, since his love for the other Troupe members is high above what little admiration he could possibly hold for those people that he subtly interrogates while fucking them as gently or as hard as they want him to, whispering in their ear when they are feeling their most euphoric, asking them what dons are trading with each other and with what, asking them how the president of this company makes so much when the value of their imports and exports don’t exactly match up, asking them how exactly many secret passageways this mansion has… it’s endless, really, how much information he can get out of them. The human body is so vulnerable, especially when pain mixes with pleasure or pleasure mixes with pain or pain is alone or please is alone. Chrollo is grateful for it.

But when it comes to sex with you, Chrollo then finally sees the emotional side of this spectrum. Your bodies bond and become one, melting into one another as you both moan out each other’s name, lovingly yours and lovingly his.

This development does not surprise him because he does want an emotional bond with you in some sense of the word, he wants you to worship him just as much as he does with you.

Let us go, shall we? Before you could answer, his hand grabs your wrist, his grip making it impossible for someone like you to break away. We… have plenty to talk about and do, correct?

Violence Towards Darling: 3/10.

Don’t take this as a sign that he will not use violence on you at all. Believing that Chrollo's violent tendencies towards you are limited to slapping or ignoring you is a naive assumption. You soon realize that attempting to strike him is futile due to his lightning-fast reflexes. Fighting back against Chrollo will not resolve anything. Instead, you come to understand that he wants you to be like a pet, constantly performing tricks and obediently following his commands.

You wonder if he would also display you like a trophy. Uncertain, you contemplate whether or not you want to find out. Eventually, a few nights later, you dream of a life without Chrollo's constant control, where he does not touch you possessively and parade you around expensive events. You recognize that you are nothing more than his lapdog, his pet, his trophy.

However, Chrollo claims to see something more in you. Is he being genuine in his belief? Do you really desire to uncover the truth?

Violence Towards Others: 8/10.

In his search for you, he maintains his usual calm demeanor, though his eyes reveal his inner turmoil. Anger fills his vision, overshadowing any light. Surely, you couldn't have gone too far. He frantically scans the penthouse until he finds you on the balcony... in the company of someone else.

“Feeling intrusive, are we?”

He pays no mind to the identity of this person, although it's likely they are a former lover or at the very least, a love interest. Your declarations of love and reciprocated kisses leave no room for doubt. How they managed to reach this height is irrelevant to him.

Without uttering a single word, he opens his book, channeling an unseen force from his hands to your ill-fated companion, causing them to plummet to the ground amidst screams from both of you.

After a few moments of tears, mumbled apologies, and the utterance of their name, he informs you that a serious discussion will take place later. With that, you silently follow him back inside. He will contact Shizuku to handle the cleanup of the body in due time.

Vanilla / Kinky

Favorite Kinks:

Begging.

Both inside and outside the bedroom, Chrollo likes having you beg, from you begging him to let you orgasm to you begging him to get you that new book in that series you were quite interested in before you got stolen away. It’s a power dynamic no doubt, it makes him feel wanted by you, needed by you, loved by you. That’s all he wants, really, your love and devotion and for you to promise to be his sun and moon and stars, for you to say he is bigger and more important to me than the sky, for you to hold him, for him to hold you.

No matter how much time passes, how many different places you both stay in and leave, how many countries you visit for leisure or for Chrollo's next big scheme, he refuses to break this unhealthy pattern, even for your sake. He enjoys this routine, so why would he alter it? He will occasionally tease you for being rather selfish, even as you both grow older and wiser and your hairs both white and your skin wrinkly. He will even say it to you when your corpse is resting peacefully in its coffin, as he sheds tears for the first time in many years.

Every time please, Chrollo, please, I… comes out of your mouth, it sounds like to him, the most beautiful martial vow.

He locks each and every one into the deepest crevices of his heart like unwilling prisoners, despite how small and cold and dead his said heart is, at least to you. They don’t want to stay, but they have to because I want them there in remembrance. Just like you. Poetic, is it not?

Voyeurism.

The screen in front of him showed you coming out of the shower, your body dripping with soapy water with a towel on your body that barely covered anything and a smaller towel covering your hair that was put up in a clip. Shalnark placing cameras all around your place made things much easier to know things about you that he could not find out through traditional stalking alone. He is grateful for him.

Slowly, as he smiled, one of his hands went into his pants, then his boxers as he caressed the half-hard thing beneath them both. He kept groaning as it got harder and harder, his breathing getting faster and faster. He is not sure how much time had gone by, but he knows that there was now liquid, slow and warm, running down his legs and is all over his hand, and as always, you were none the wiser.

Oral. (Receiving)

Your knees are on the floor, having been there so long it hurts. Your neck is curved backward and your mouth is in pain from his large manhood in there like an unwanted intruder, as you desperately gag and choke and cry. The only reason you have not successfully gotten away is because one of his hands is grabbing the back of your head and pulling you every time you pull, hopelessly still trying to fight.

Your hands are tied behind your back with silk to not damage the skin of your wrists, while you desperately try to claw your way out of them.

You’re in the clothing that he wants you to wear, as usual, though calling it clothing would be an overstatement as it hardly covers anything. A black thong with a short skirt, along with a low-cut bralette. As always, you have no say in the matter, and even though you are unable to utter a word, he showers you with affectionate words, as fake as they seem.

Favorite Parts:

Your Thighs.

It is more of a comfort thing than anything else, really. The way that it is one of the softest parts of you, one of the meatiest parts of you, and, most of all, the easiest parts of you to grab and hold and kiss and press hickeys into and fuck.

It’s only natural for a thief to want to keep their prized possessions close to them, is it not, my darling?

While Chrollo still places you all of his mementos and diamonds and paintings among the many, many other things he has hidden away in his current penthouse, seeing you as better than all of those things combined, he still sees you, in some ways, as something to be sanctioned, whether it be for your own safety or just his pure, unadulterated selfishness, or perhaps both.

So, he holds onto your thighs at all times pretty much, squeezing the flesh for either attention or just because he needs some security that you are still there with him, no matter how close you physically are to him.

He will occasionally rest his head on your lap, reciting his book aloud while you are obliged to listen. He never dozes off because he is too cautious for that, although he yearns for it. His desire to lie down and have you run your fingers through his hair as he gradually drifts to sleep almost surpasses all his other needs. It may sound like a fantasy for him, no pun intended.

However, it would be a nightmare for you, whether he falls asleep or not. But as always, Chrollo hardly cares. If you dare to object, your longer skirts, shorts, and one pair of sweatpants will vanish for approximately a month, only to be replaced by outrageously short clothes that barely qualify as attire.

They’re soft, just like your lips, your voice, just everything else about you, you, you. It’s the parts that most perfectly describe you, he’ll say, forcing you to tolerate all his touches because his hand is not going anywhere, just like the rest of me, sweetling.

Just stay still and let me see how plush you are just for me, alright?

If he ignores all the goosebumps and the shivers, he can assume that this is what heaven feels like. It must be, right, dearest?

Your Collarbone.

Despite everything else about him, Chrollo can be a sort of traditionalist when he wants to be. This applies quite rarely though, only really affecting the relationship he has with you, both inside and outside of the bedroom.

He likes how the bones stick out, the crevices just so perfect for him to slide the tip of his fingers across, just so perfect for him to kiss and bite, just so perfect to hang necklaces from so they are on a sort of diagonal and reflect the light, making them shine and making them highlight the hickeys that have been pressed into them, right below them, and right above them…

He forces you to wear all kinds of accessories and low-cut shirts that he can find, not caring how much money it would cost, just to see some diamond-encrusted choker on your neck. He says in the calmest voice he can muster that it is no big deal, darling, just trust me and I got this for you and you alone, now why don’t you be a sweetheart and put it on? You might think that a choker and a collar are essentially the same, as they both tightly grip the neck like a suffocating hold. However, Chrollo pays no mind to this, as owners don't concern themselves with their pets realizing they're wearing such a sign of possession.

Your Feet.

Chrollo appreciates art in his own unique way, specifically when it comes to sculpting and realism. He finds your feet to be truly exquisite, along with the rest of you. Despite your attempts to ignore it or cover them up, he has a clear fondness for your feet. Your toes are round, your heels are perfectly shaped, and your soles fit perfectly in his hands when he places heeled shoes on them. In secret, he also enjoys the scent of your feet, although he would never admit it. He would rather die than confess.

Your feet are cute and can become sweaty and sticky, making them easy to hold onto, just like your thighs.

Those traits really remind him after you orgasm, with you of course begging repeatedly for it a few moments before he lets you.

It's a hidden pleasure for him, even if you were to discover it, he would keep it to himself. You won't be able to get any information from him. If you do happen to find out, don't be surprised when a substantial portion of your jewelry drawer is filled with anklets.

His Fingers.

Chrollo admires his hands more than most other parts of his body. He trims his fingernails every two weeks, putting hand cream every time he steps out of the bath, never skipping this routine of his. The reason he admires his hands so much is that despite all the bloodshed and other dirty acts he does with them, they remain on the outside clean. It boosts his ego, in a way.

There are just so many uses for them, he loves flipping the pages of his favorite novels with them, he loves cutting food for both you and himself with them, he loves squeezing your thigh as either a warning or a sign of love… there are just endless possibilities, at least from his perspective.

But his new favorite thing is to fuck your clit with them, and yours alone.

Is it a privilege, then, that only yours can bring him such joy? Whether you believe it to be so or not, it holds no significance, for Chrollo finds pleasure in this, and only his satisfaction matters, given that he is the one who has taken you captive.

Please, Chrollo, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, I can’t take this anymore I-

His movements are flawlessly executed, almost unfairly so. They are deliberate yet unhurried, demanding your submission. However, he will only grant you this pleasure if you plead for it. The act of begging will consume several minutes, perhaps even a minimum of two, leaving you in a state of desperation. Meanwhile, he will revel in your discomfort, relishing the power he holds over you. This perverse satisfaction is what he adores the most.

As you wish.

Inevitably, you will find yourself succumbing to your desires, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he provides. Despite your stubbornness, your willpower will eventually crumble under the weight of his expertise.

He derives immense pleasure from knowing that he alone possesses the ability to bring you such ecstasy. This knowledge fuels his ego, heightening his sense of self-importance.

His Words.

Chrollo has an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but he also derives great pleasure from imparting knowledge and amusingly embarrassing others. And when it comes to you, he takes it to another level.

He constantly showers you with compliments, comparing you to famous heroines like Juliet and Ophelia from classic literature. He insists that you possess the same beauty as any damsel in distress from those timeless tales. To prove his point, he even offers to acquire paintings of these fictional princesses and damsels for you to admire and compare yourself to.

Wanting a break from his constant attention, you agree to his proposal. Besides, you get the bonus of owning some exquisite artwork. What could go wrong, right?

Well, it turns out to be a colossal mistake.

Upon waking up, you find yourself surrounded by what feels like an entire museum filled with paintings of fictional damsels, duchesses, princesses, and queens. The overwhelming presence of these artworks threatens to suffocate you. And to make matters worse, Chrollo insists on meticulously going through each painting one by one, forcing you to endure this ordeal that could very well last for days.

Your legs resemble hers, your lips resemble hers, your feet resemble hers... every aspect of your physique and the muse's physique that he remarks upon, leaves you feeling incredibly exposed, more so than ever before.

The duration of this process is absolutely exasperating. It leaves you feeling as defenseless as a lamb anticipating its fate in the hands of a butcher.

His Knowledge.

Chrollo truly treasures his knowledge, viewing it as divine nectar from the heavens, if indeed it exists. This belief is so strong that he occasionally overestimates it, taking every opportunity to display it in a way that impresses you more than anything else he does, both inside and outside of the bedroom. Whether intentionally or not, he will state the obvious, like pointing out that the creature you're observing in the rose garden during your “date” is not a slug, but a snail.

It frustrates you, but you acknowledge that it could be worse–he could forbid you from venturing outdoors altogether.

Surely, that counts for something, doesn't it?

…Doesn’t it?

Fantasies. (Consent / Non-Con) (Coercion / Brute Force)

If one were to make a comparison, they would compare you to a piece of art so beautiful, that it is instinct to witness, praise, and worship until their bodies all turn to mere dust, in which they will be swept away by those alive who do not want your refinement to be stained by those who have passed on. For what is a beauty without a beholder? Chrollo will gladly take up that role, as he is the only one worthy of seeing such a piece. You, leaning on the pillows, legs crossed, hair put up in a neat bun, wearing makeup that he has said he likes on you before, looking up at him like he has come to bless you with a mere glimpse of the divine power he holds, wearing the black lingerie he chose for you to wear this evening, made of lace with patterns of roses scattered about.

This is his welcome home gift, from both himself and you. He may have requested that you could partake in this, but since you are doing it without any complaint but instead loving doing the task at hand, he could consider him soon becoming one with your body for the evening to be an award from you for all the work he has done for the Troupe these past few days.

If such a prize is laid before him, ripe for the taking, why wouldn’t he? So, without so much as uttering another word, he starts to undress as you watch, a mix of genuine joy and interest laid out on your face. He hasn’t even touched you yet, and with this simple act, you are bound to him with the invisible thread of lust.

When his boxers are all the way down, he approaches, and you don’t blink, wanting to take it all in. Shall the fun start? When your lips meet, all reservations that you once had dissolve, as few as they are now.

(But don’t think Chrollo respects your boundaries completely when it comes to sex; if you deny him enough, over the course of months and months, he will break his composure and show you where you belong; underneath him.)

→ Strengths.

Realities. (Your Own, His Avow) (Patient / Impatient)

The being that is above you in this bed is unlike any human you have ever met before. His looks and personality are all artificially crafted, like some automaton made to resemble actual living things, but do not stray far from their roots, what they were made for, and what they were made of. I’m real, you think, I’m real. Chrollo is not.

He’s aware of everything you do. Every step you take. Every word you say.

He is aware. He possesses knowledge of all things, much like the god he feigns to be. His understanding of emotions is as keen as his logical reasoning, resulting in a situation of dread that pertains solely to you.

It instills fear within you because he holds the key to all knowledge, while you remain in not-so-blissful ignorance.

→ Weaknesses.

Lotus Eater. (Dreamy Idleness)

Chrollo, despite his attempts to appear superior to others, is not without his flaws. If those around him stroke his ego, he becomes overly confident. Yet, if one were to try the opposite approach, it would have the same effect as boosting his ego. He is cursed with arrogance, always believing he is superior to others, even some members of the Troupe. Perhaps you can use this knowledge to your advantage. Faking affection could lower his guard and further inflate his narcissism. It is a strategic move, preferable to engaging in a physical fight that you cannot possibly win.

Therefore, when you believe you have the opportunity to escape when his guard seems lowered enough that he won't immediately pursue you, you run. At that moment, his facade will crack, his eyes will grow emptier, and the hollow husk chasing after you will not resemble the Chrollo you once knew.

→ Daily Life.

Welcome. (Day One)

Chrollo remains a mystery begging to be left unsolved.

He rises at his usual hour each morning, and it's a rarity to witness him actually sleeping. His breakfast consistently consists of sausage and eggs, seasoned solely with salt and pepper, as he avoids other spices. He purchases fresh bread from whichever local bakery happens to be closest for the week or a few days ahead. Occasionally, if you're fortunate, he may bring back something sweet while out and about, such as a chocolate-filled croissant or a cherry jam-filled danish. However, trust, whether in platonic or romantic relationships, is something that must be earned.

Interestingly, it appears that regardless of the circumstances, Chrollo seems to possess a certain level of trust that you won't make any foolish choices. On your initial day in this penthouse, he simply greeted you, patiently waiting until the effects of the drugs wore off, allowing you to cry on the bed until your tears ran dry. He comforted you, softly shushing you and gently caressing your cheeks with his thumb.

Yet, he never becomes too intimate.

Was that his motive? Is that why he opted to masquerade as a compassionate gentleman rather than a captor? Instead of asserting his authority, he chose to console you, demonstrating that such solace could be snatched away in an instant. You were oblivious to his true intentions. On that initial day, you wept more than any other day, the taste of mint on Chrollo's breath and the aroma of coffee still etched in your memory. He would inflict further harm, and for the sake of your sanity, you believe it is preferable for him to remain an enigma, shielding you from the repulsive monster lurking beneath his attractive facade.

What Could Be. (And What Is)

Strangely enough, there are still parts of your life after Chrollo has captured you that would still sort of count as normal enough that you could turn the other way and ignore all other cosmic horrors that are happening in the general vicinity. You could still decide what you want to eat and drink that day, what to watch, what to read, what time to wake up and what time to go to bed, what to write in your diary (that not-so-strangely has its lock missing now), listen to the morning birds or to the music that Chrollo allows you to listen to (which is most of it, shockingly)... the list really is endless, really, aside from a few things that you forget sometimes, much to future you’s horror.

But sometimes you forget on purpose, to divulge in the fantasy Chrollo has carefully crafted for both of you, either to fool him or your walls really are as broken down as he wants them to be.

He finds it nice when you ask him questions about whatever place he has rented for the two of you for the time being, the location at hand most likely being related to the Troupe’s plans to steal whatever is of value. He likes to show off, and to listen to him talk for hours requires the patience of a saint.

→ Punishments. (No Punishments / Tortuous Punishments)

Welcome Again. (Failed Departure)

The penthouse looked to be the same after you ran out the entrance door that you lockpicked. The fireplace was still lit. There was still a smell of peppermint in the air along with some scent of coffee, lattes maybe. Everything looks the same, just as it always has. It nearly scares you more, how calm and warm this place is, than the hand that has a grip on your wrist so tight that you feel like he will dislocate it in the very least.

But he does not look angry, but that smile is not good at all either.

He does not say anything as he closes the door behind him, turning the lock on the door so it will remain that way. He does not say anything as he continues to drag you, albeit a bit more tight in his grip now that you are within his grasp once again. Whatever you say goes in one ear and out the other, and you know better than to struggle and scream, because you do not want this day to result in yet another bloodbath, and it would be useless anyway, even if someone came to rescue you. That is why, like the sort of pet you were trained to be, you bite your tongue and obey. He seems to not be angry now, but who knows what awaits you once you are in the bedroom, where most talks and actions are the consequences of your supposed crimes. You can’t really breathe, but that is alright. Chrollo will help you every step of the way after all, as the dutiful owner he has come to be.

Perhaps a pet is all you will be.

He wants you to look up at him like some god, some deity that you worship with all your being. But you can’t, not yet, and Chrollo knows that. Perhaps some methods unknown to you but known to him can help, can’t it?

He hopes so for your sake, but what do you hope for, wish for? You don’t know, and maybe never will.

Venus Fly Trap. (Temptations of a Liar)

Chrollo is well aware of the diverse array of predatory flowers, each manifesting in its own unique way. Perhaps you too possess such characteristics, with your alluring fragrance and honeyed speech, deceiving him into a false sense of security before stripping it all away. However, there is one crucial detail you seem to have overlooked. What transpires when a venus fly trap ensnares a prey that surpasses its own size and devours its own kind and others, rather than the typical fly it ensnares?

Undoubtedly, they suffer. Yet it appears that this lesson has eluded you thus far, hasn't it?

You have displayed kindness, sweetness, and a willingness to comply, within certain limits. Undoubtedly, you possess some degree of skill, though not enough to deceive him, the enigmatic masked orchestrator of this theatrical production.

Therefore, it is without much remorse that he renders you motionless with delicate silk and persuasive words that possess the potential to sting, should you ever dare to push him too far.

However, deep down you are aware of the truth, just as he is aware too. If he doesn't take a firm stance, what other undesirable situations will you find yourself in? With a single hand, he flips open the book, while using the other to shush you.

“A shame,” He says, turning the pages. “A crying shame, really. The sky is so lovely tonight… Who knows when we will get this scenery again, hmm?”

You don’t know what he will do to you.

…Does he?

→ Quotes.

Hello.

Greetings. It is truly an honor to meet you face to face like this at long last, [First]. There is no need to introduce yourself to me as I already know who you are. That, and… hmm. That, and I think you are not all there right now. Please, I recommend relaxing and listening to what I have to say. But just to make sure, try to speak to me… as expected.

Chat: Ballet.

All dancers must put themselves fully into whatever moves they do. I suppose that can be the same thing for you and me.

Chat: Athenaeum.

Libraries and archives are some of the places I enjoy going to the most. Maybe if you continue behaving, I’ll take you to one nearby.

Chat: Reimbursement.

Quid pro quo, darling; I assume you know the best ways to compensate me for the broken locks?

When It Rains.

The rain is perfect for a day of staying inside. Though, hehe… you’ll be indoors no matter what, right? Good thing you have me as company today. …What do you mean? I leave sometimes, mainly to get you things might I add. I suggest being more grateful if you don’t want that koala plush to disappear.

After It Rains.

Sigh… the smell of morning dew and the sounds of birds chirping… simply marvelous. Let’s go dance on the balcony, but be sure not to get your new shoes wet and slip. I would hate to have to bring Machi again.

When Thunder Strikes.

Aw, are you going to cling to me so cutely whenever there is a storm? I wouldn’t mind that, I’ll even give you more blankets to hide in if you wish. …Wait, dearest, come back… sigh… of course she hid under the bed again.

When It Snows.

So cold out there, isn’t it? If you ask nicely, I’ll give you back your socks and slippers. Go on.

When the Sun Is Out.

Let’s go on a walk tonight when it’s not so hot out. The sunset’s beauty will only be second to your own.

Good Morning.

Good morning, love, I made coffee. Feel free to use one of the creamers I got you, and there is oat milk near them somewhere in the fridge… Hm? I have never really been a fan of sweet drinks, so black coffee tastes good to someone like me.

Good Afternoon.

Sure, you can cook lunch. But allow me to cut the ingredients and heat sources. We know how you used them last time.

Good Evening.

It’s so quiet you can only hear the crickets chirping. It’s quite a romantic atmosphere, isn't it?

Good Night.

Ah ah ah. No bed for you yet. Give me a goodnight kiss first. No, you can’t sleep on the couch either. Or the floor. If you keep refusing, I’m going to ask you more questions than yesterday. …That’s better.

About Chrollo: Tattoos.

There is something comforting about them, I think. No matter what the person does to reject it, it will stay. The permanence of such an act should also be what you should be. Now, bite me again and you will sooner than later find yourself in a tattoo parlor. Am I understood?

About Chrollo: Lies.

Don’t say that, my love. I’m not lying to you, I’m just picking what parts of the truth to show and hide. There is no harm in that, I think.

About Us: Home.

This place is much more human with you in it. Do with that as you wish.

About Us: Cull.

Life and death have a sort of agreement. A contract if you will. The more lives taken by your hands, the more your own life is put at risk. Quite poetic. Like everything else in life, there must be balance.

About Us: Matrimony.

Being bound by just a few words… The very idea is beautiful in my opinion. If you want, we can get married. It is not like anyone else is going to put that pretty ring finger of yours to good use, anyway.

About Us: Panoply.

Anything you want you shall receive. Just say the word. Unless it is already here, which is a possibility.

About You: Humanity.

The human psyche is truly fascinating, don’t you agree? All it takes is a few words or a few actions and it all comes crumbling down. Like you.

About You: Epiphany.

Not a man, not ten men, not a hundred men can ever provide me with the same joy you give me. You’re special, you know? You make me feel… alive.

Something to Share.

“Be glad as children, as birds in the sky.” A quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky. But… birds are constantly migrating to better places, so really, are they grateful and glad for the gift of life?

Interesting Things.

I see you are doing experiments with pH again. Just be sure to not use all of the vinegar, please. And no, vinegar cannot melt a door, for the final time.

About Nobunaga.

He thinks more with his heart than his head. But he means well for the Troupe. Or himself when he makes someone call to order takeout for him.

About Feitan.

I learned a lot of torture methods from him. He truly is the best at what he does. As for social skills… not so much. But everyone has their ups and downs, and that is Fei’s.

About Machi.

One of the most loyal people I have ever met. Also one of the most in tune with their wants and needs. If she thinks of something to say, she’ll say it without a doubt. She is very transparent when it comes to that kind of thing.

About Hisoka.

Hisoka… he is very… out there, isn’t he? But he is valuable to me, so I give him free rein to do whatever he wishes.

About Phinks.

One of the physically strongest. Though also one of the only ones to ever get a laugh out of me. Shizuku once asked him why he did not have any eyebrows, and the way he stopped talking and stared at the ceiling caused us all to snicker. Feitan did earn a blow to the head by the end of it because Phinks does not hit women… He is much more gentlemanly than he appears.

About Shalnark.

When it comes to computers and such, Shalnark is the person to do it. He was the one to convince me to get a newer phone model and taught me how it worked. He kept chuckling as he did, and every question I had asked earned a wide smile in response but no actual answer. He says I am an… “old man at heart…?”

About Franklin.

He is not the most talkative one out there, but if ever comes to games to decide matters, he is the one for the job. Once, Uvogin betted fifty thousand Jenny if he ever beat me in chess. Franklin managed to almost win in the end, but he gave up at the last moment. He said he couldn’t bear to do that to me.

About Shizuku.

At long last, she at least remembers my name. She is quite charming in her own way… I see why Franklin took on a sort of caretaker role for her.

About Pakunoda.

Paku… Paku is one of the sweetest people I know. Whenever I didn’t feel well, she was the first one to come and help me feel better. She even fed me her rations, regardless of the tough times we were put through. I should ask her to make me soup again, I have missed the taste of it…

About Bonolenov.

When he trusts you enough, he has quite a humorous and proud side. He is very proud of his culture, and as someone who did not have one as a child, I find it very admirable.

About Uvogin.

I swear he could drink enough beer to kill a whale and still not be satisfied. The same goes for fights. Any challenge goes, whether that is an eating or video game contest.

About Kortopi.

His copying ability is quite useful, and Nobunaga wanted to give him a haircut using his sword. He declined of course, much to Nobunaga’s disappointment. …Hm? A copy of you? No, you are priceless, and nothing can ever compare, even a version of you that does everything I ask. There is a charm to your disobedience. That, and Kortopi cannot make living copies.

More About Chrollo: I.

Come. I got you some books for us to read together. But before you touch them, I must tell you that you can only read them while on my lap. Isn’t that such a great deal, dearest?

More About Chrollo: II.

“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven…” Yes, I can see the parallels between this line and myself. Is that why you decided to show me this? …Oh, you just wanted an excuse to call me Lucifer again. Do what you wish, I suppose. But please put that book back on the shelf where it came from when you are done. You know I hate it when you mess up the categories. …Hm? Don’t do that, or I won��t get you any more mochi. …You know my threats aren’t empty, my dear.

More About Chrollo: III.

…Do you need something from me, dearest? No? …Why am I asking? So you just happen to be pressing your chest against my arm for no apparent reason? …I see. Well, if you want my attention so badly, who am I to refuse?

More About Chrollo: IV.

Yes, that note is from me. That gift is also from me. Open it, please. …You should try wearing that set next time. Your thighs will stand out better. You were the one that was asking last night, not me. Ah, you are feeling rather adventurous these past few weeks, aren’t you? …Looking for something? Is this it? You know, I’m disappointed in you, to put it frankly. I thought you were coming around. You know what happens now, don’t you?

More About Chrollo: V.

Time has certainly sped by, hasn’t it? Let me give you a word of advice. No matter what happens, always remember those who have gotten you to where you are now. As a result, your situation can prove to be much less isolating that way. …Yes, that includes me. For when you are alone, my dear, your mind always finds a way to eat you whole.

Chrollo’s Hobbies.

Leading an orchestra and executing a grand theft operation share fundamental principles. It is imperative to maintain a commanding presence, ensuring that others adhere to your lead. Collaboration becomes the pivotal factor in achieving triumph during such endeavors.

Chrollo’s Troubles.

I find it perplexing how some individuals effortlessly navigate life with a serene demeanor, rooted in their unwavering sense of self. Maybe it stems from a twinge of envy, or perhaps there's another elusive element at play. But being envious is part of being human, is it not?

Favorite Food: Black Squid Ink Carbonara.

It is briny, and salty, like the sea. Quite refreshing as well, especially paired with homemade pasta. Only the best quality is allowed. …I am not being too picky. Do you know how many children in Meteor City have grown up never eating from a fast food place, much less a local restaurant? I simply am greedy because I can now. I couldn’t before, and that is why I do so as an adult.

Favorite Food: Opulence.

As an adult, my current ability to indulge in greed is a newfound privilege that I couldn't have experienced previously. Hence, I find it impossible to resist the temptation of adding an extra serving of truffle or caviar to my plate.

Least Favorite Food: Canned Cabbage.

One of the very few foods I refused to eat unless absolutely necessary was canned cabbage. It was slimy and always came in watery vinegar with mostly moldy parts… I was desperate, but not desperate enough to eat that. Machi, Nobunaga, and Phinks all agreed. Feitan didn’t, much to everyone’s annoyance.

Least Favorite Food: Waste.

Paku, Machi, and Feitan had a sort of pact that they forced on the rest of us to never throw away things that were still edible. According to Shalnark and Uvogin, moldy food is still edible. Phinks and I disagreed but… we got outvoted.

Receiving a Gift: I.

Indulging in scrumptious meals truly possesses the power to alleviate all worries. So, how can I express my gratitude?

Receiving a Gift: II.

Oh? Thank you, dearest. …For your own good, you better not have put salt instead of sugar this time.

Receiving a Gift: III.

Ah... considering you seem to have a moment to spare, would you be interested in sitting down and enjoying a shared reading session? The choice of material is entirely up to you, of course.

Chrollo’s Birthday.

You are such a prize, you know? You’re in an outfit worth its weight in gold, actually, now that I think about it, diamonds. Autumn has set in, the weather gets colder, and the food gets warmer. Perfect time for spending quality time with someone, wouldn’t you say so? Please, allow me to do this with you, [First]. I have never really cared for this day if I am being honest, but… now that you are here, I feel like new opportunities are around every corner.

Birthday.

Happy birthday, [First]. Within reason, I would like to treat you to whatever your heart desires. Food, art, wine; anything, just tell me, alright? I will see to it. …Heh. I’m afraid a fall from this penthouse will not be enough to kill me. …No, I am not going to put it to the test, since I am certain about it. Please think of something else. The world is your oyster, dearest. But… remember that I can always close it before you can get to the pearl.

Feelings About You: Ethereal.

This feeling… I haven’t felt something like this since… Hmm? Am I? Quite the observation.

Feelings About You: Euphonious.

…I miss your voice, you know. I always like it when you get caught up in a topic that interests you, no matter what it is. …But last time I took the gag off and took you out, you behaved quite terribly… Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll take the gag off, and I’ll get you something related to your interests, and then we can talk about it. Does that sound good to you?

Feelings About You: Eternity.

We shall be together forever, bonded at the hip if we must be. I promise you. Do not worry about the details. It does not matter if you like it or not, because I will take care of whatever obstacles get in our way. Whether that obstacle is you or any… outsiders.

Feelings About You: Elision.

Do know that I do mean it when I say that I do want to make you happy. Yes, our relationship is less than ideal, but in the end, just know my feelings for you are indeed sincere. …I’m not exactly willing to take criticism, but I could try, perhaps. If you like to do so, I am willing to compromise, though.

→ Conclusion.

You never hear Chrollo in his movements, but you do in his actions when he wants you to.

He puts far more effort into the little things, the details than outright saying his feelings for you, or just telling you his threats. That mysterious gift that appeared on your bed while you were away at work, that just so happens to contain some of your favorite sweets?

The bouquet on your kitchen table that was placed while you were asleep? The box of dozens if not at least a hundred pictures of you by your mailbox when you tried to file a police report?

Chrollo is patient to a fault. You will never know what is happening, at its fullest, until it is far too late.

You can put as much blame on yourself as you want, and hate yourself as much as you want, for not realizing how dangerous this entire situation is. But this position under Chrollo’s thumb is so much more horrifying than you could ever imagine, so do not blame yourself for not noticing everything at once.

That is not to say Chrollo won’t try to degrade you into thinking this is all your fault.

Your walls will be as good as broken and crumbled down sooner than you think.

#aya analyses #yandere hxh #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #yandere hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #hxh x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #hxh smut #hunter x hunter x reader

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moonsvillain · 17 days

Text

have been toying with the idea of an au wherein shen jiu, after burning down the qiu household and running away, comes across xie lian rather than wu yanzi poaching him immediately afterwards:

i'd imagine in this verse he runs away to town rather than immediately being found in the aftermath of what he's done. at this point, shen jiu would be too paranoid to consider reaching out for directions to cang qiong mountain even if he wanted to make it there: what if they knew what he did? or figured it out if he did know? (if he even had the mind to think of these things through his panic)

he doesn't want to end up begging on the streets again, though—too alike his childhood and last time he was in that position, shen jiu ended up with the qius in the first place

so he takes refuge in temples that he comes across, stealing food when he can before moving to a different part of the rather large town he's ended up in so there's no clear pattern of when he shows up at whichever food stall

despite not holding that same respect and unwavering belief in gods (how could he, after everything he's gone through? shouldn't they have stepped in, sometime? what god would let him suffer as he did, separating him from the only person he loved?) he knows better than to try them, and begrudgingly thanks them for the shelter (because this he did appreciate, at the very least, if nothing else)

winter hits hard when it does, and shen jiu, after spending so many years in the qiu household, forgot how the cold seeps into your skin and bones without solid walls to keep out the frigid breeze.

he quickly falls ill with nothing to protect him from the elements but his threadbare clothing, and when he grows ill, he becomes slow. shen jiu nearly gets caught stealing, running away before he can be dragged to a town guard for his offence, but earning himself a nasty wound to his leg as he retreated

sickness + the cold + the wound leave him weak and wanting: missing qi-ge, reminiscing on nights where they'd curl up together for warmth, still cold but not alone, the two of them steady against the storm that raged on ahead of them

fever-ridden and teetering close to death, shen jiu wanders into a temple late at night and sinks to his knees, falling to his side, heart-rate slowing. in his delirium, he misses the figure taking shelter from the storm in the corner, watching him

shen jiu wakes up (he doesn't expect to), warm while he hears the wind whistle. he's still in that temple from earlier, but it's considerably... cozier. a small fire warms the inside and his clothes aren't as damp against his cold skin. his fever's broken, too—he doesn't know how long it's been, but he's glad he didn't die: never realized that he wanted to live until he was close to forfeiting his right to

here is where he meets his accidental saviour: xie lian stood over a slowly bubbling pot of stew that smells heavenly to shen jiu—he'd eat just about anything at this point, starved

his immediate distrust of xie lian stops him from being truly excited about his appearance

their relationship is veryyy shaky at the very beginning: shen jiu refuses to trust him and xie lian refuses to abandon this strange child he found on the verge of death

(there's a strange sort of bond built up when you nurse someone back to life, dragging them away from the brink of death and xie lian isn't interested, but he's curious about this kid who stumbled into his temple at the dead of night on a midnight in winter)

shen jiu's torn between distrust and this desire for company he didn't know he possessed; after being alone with no one but the qiu household [before he went on his massacre] he didn't realized how much he wanted to share space with someone who wasn't actively hurting him until he was afforded the opportunity to experience non-violent company with xie lian

his distrust slowly declines when he finds out that xie lian is a cultivator. despite being arguably too old to learn cultivation to the fullest extent he could have if he started a few years earlier, he still desperately wants to learn

xie lian, perceptive as ever, slowly starts teaching him bits and pieces of the basics, teaches him to meditate, takes care to keep his distance when it looks like shen jiu's getting overwhelmed

shen jiu can't help but get attached. he hates it

shen jiu decides to test xie lian before resigning himself to this

he was snappy, impatient, and argued with xie lian, when he came over, one day, waiting for some form of punishment to come, bristling like a spooked cat.

nothing came of his experiment but a slight frown from xie lian, which made shen jiu feel almost bad—xie lian almost reminded him of qi-ge, which made him feel doubly bad because he desperately wants to find him

shen jiu came to xie lian the next day with a pastry [that he stole] as an apology. and a request:

"teach me how to cultivate so i can be a disciple at the cang qiong sect"

xie lian agrees easily enough: he's been around shen jiu to see that despite the late start, he has potential to be great [especially untouched by wu yanzi and his twisted form of cultivation]

shen jiu throws himself into his studies, working himself to the bone

xie lian is concerned by this and after trying to soften the load of his work doesn't make shen jiu slow down, he becomes stern: warns him against trying to chase too much frivolously

this leads to a breakdown of sorts—where shen jiu gets angry, dismissive, before becoming upset. the average emotional depth of a teenager but, like, 4 times worse because of the circumstances

xie lian coaxes the story out of shen jiu here; qi-ge [the first time he's mentioned aloud by name], the qiu household [only the barest of details. shen jiu refuses to dwell], and the night shen jiu made qi-ge leave, as well as qi-ge's promise to come back

shen jiu finishes by telling xie lian he needs to make it back to qi-ge, needs to see if he's still alive, he's been selfish for sticking around as long

shen jiu tells xie lian that he needs to figure out as much as he can, as fast as he can, so he can leave and make his way to cang qiong mountain with some sort of base knowledge to make it in. and that he's not sorry for pushing himself because he doesn't have time

xie lian is quiet for a while

puts a comforting hand on shen jiu's shoulder and tells him he understands; he knows someone who would do anything to make it back to the one they loved, understands the pain that comes when time and distance separates the two

however, xie lian tells him, he can't let shen jiu push himself. he'll only stunt his progress by hurting himself rather than speed things up

shen jiu is ready to argue again before xie lian offers to make the trip with him

shen jiu doesn't believe it at first—who would bother with helping him for this long if they weren't getting anything out of it? he already found this hard to believe, let alone the fact that xie lian would drop everything to travel with him for weeks on end

xie lian doesn't shake in his resolve, though. shen jiu figures out he's being serious and wants to argue, but he's just—relieved

so many people have stood as roadblocks on his path back to qi-ge; xie lian might be the first person actively trying to help them

it almost reignites hope in him; someone other than him believes in them. someone other than shen jiu thinks they'll make it back to each other and succeed in reuniting. xie lian's faith in him is like a gust of wind beneath his wings

he agrees to their road trip

[xie lian makes sure to tell his beloved he'll be away for a while]

[shen jiu doesn't notice that xie lian buys steamed buns off the same stranger in nearly every town they stop by for a night of rest in the following few weeks]

[xie lian notices, years later, when shen qingqiu doesn't recognize him upon their first meeting in decades. shen yuan doesn't know xie lian, but xie lian knows this isn't shen jiu, anymore]

#i've had this idea in my head for a few months now #only just finding the time to write everything out #i'll write this on ao3 eventually! trust me i will i promise just need to defeat exams first #hua cheng stalking xie lian w a forced smile on his face: who the hell is this fraud and why is he stealing my husbands attention #xie lian with a happy lil smile: theyre just like us san lang he's learning cultivation to find and protect his beloved isnt it so wonderfu #hua cheng letting go of the steamed bun smushed to pieces in his hand: ah yeah sounds great. sooo cute gege. come home soon. Please. ^_^#xie lian meeting shen jiu: what a lovely young man #shen jiu half feral and armed with the worst attitude known to man: who the hell is this fraud #svsss #tgcf #mxtx #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #xie lian #hua cheng #svsss au #svsss fanfiction #scum villain #scum villain self saving system #the scum villain's self saving system #heaven official's blessing

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fictionismyreality3 · 4 months

Note

CAN YOU GIVE US MORE OF JASON STALKING?? I SWEAR TO U, IS REALLY HOTTTT AAAAH

I loved your writing btw

Omgomgomg hi babes!!!! You’re my first ask ever!!! You’ll forever have place in my heart 🥲 but really that is so sweet of you, and toTALLY STALKER JASON IS SO HOT HERE YOU GO

A Little bit of Sunshine

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: stalker!jason todd, innocent!reader

Warnings: stalking, mention of drugs

Notes: I’m actually dying at picturing getting stalked by Jay 😩 like that should not be hot but it is??? If people like this I might make it into a mini series or something 👀

He was going to stop the first night.

At least, that's what he told himself.

Since Jason had come back from the Pit, being alive was something of a nuisance. Whatever weird ass magic they used to bring him back to life had made it harder to control himself in every way. He went on a year-long violent rampage, much to Bruce’s disdain, that left Gotham in shambles.

Only now was he actually putting a good face behind the name of the Red Hood. It’s not like he wanted to hurt people, but when everything was so vivid, it was hard to listen to Bruce’s non-lethal policy. But as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted Bruce to trust him again.

So, when Dick was called out of Bludhaven for some other crisis, Jason volunteered to help with patrol.

It was the third day of what was supposed to be a week-long shift in Bludhaven, and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Sure he had broken the legs of a few robbers when they tried to run from him, but it was all in good fun.

In fact, Jason was dying for some fun. Bludhaven was somehow even darker and dingier than the rest of Gotham, and it was getting tiring only having drug dealers to play with. The rain was coming down, casting a foggy overcast to the darkening sky, and most of the sane residents had retreated to their homes. Everyone who had ever been to Bludhaven knew that nighttime was when the dangerous criminals liked to do their work.

Which is why Jason was a little astonished that a seemingly random girl was stupid enough to walk home in the dark.

Living in Bludhaven wasn't ideal, but the rent was cheap and that's all that mattered. You had been working at a donation center for the homeless for the last few months, wanting to help out the city in any way you could. It wasn't that you were trying to be a hero or something, you just didn't like seeing other people suffering. It also helped that volunteer work looked killer on a resume. The staff loved you, and quickly entrusted you with the keys, giving you the last shift of the night.

You usually walked home with one of your co-workers, a woman in her 60s named Rose. It wasn't the typical company for someone your age, but her never-ending stories were nice to zone out to after a long day of work. Rose was sick today, which meant you had to walk home alone. Looking out the window, you saw that it was already dark. Definitely not ideal. But, you had made the trip hundreds of times and knew all the shortcuts to get you home quicker.

Jason watched as the girl walked down the dimly-lit streets. He was going to just leave it, and let you learn your lesson the hard way, but then he took a second glance at you.

He thought the Pit bringing him back to life was the closest thing he'd ever get to seeing heaven. But now?

Now he knew he was dead wrong.

A soft face with pretty lips and pretty hair and pretty everything. Jason felt his heart beat inside his chest with a vigour that betrayed the dead man he thought he was. All of the lonely, unclear and dangerous thoughts in his head suddenly vanished. His breaths were heavy and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the pretty little thing walking all alone. He felt like there was blood flowing in his veins again. He felt alive.

If you were walking alone at this time of night you were either innocent or stupid, and the innocence was practically rolling off you in waves. You were far too sweet for this place. His eyes scanned the logo of the bag you were carrying and his heart exploded and regrew in his chest all at once. The kind face you had made sense if you were generous enough to work at one of Bludhaven's seedy donation buildings. His mouth went dry at the idea of anything remotely distressing happening to you.

Fuck it.

He was just gonna make sure you got home safe. That's all it was.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, Jason silently followed you as you walked home, watching from above like a twisted guardian angel. He was always on high alert, he was raised to be vigilant, but he found himself paying extra close attention to every single movement he saw out of the corner of his eye. Logic was telling him that if he was going through all this trouble to make sure a random girl was safe, he should just jump down from the roof and walk you home instead of watching like some-

Oh, that was cute.

Jason's gaze followed your hands as you pulled your keys from your bag. The fabric keychain they were attached to was dotted with tiny drawings of the sun. He hadn't even realized that you'd gotten home. Perching on a rooftop, he kept you in his vision while he quickly scanned the area where you lived. It wasn't the best, nothing in Bludhaven was, but at least it wasn't at the south tip of the city.

You had finally gotten home after a long day. Oddly, the walk didn't feel as scary as you expected. Sighing, you took out your keys and unlocked your front door, slipping inside your apartment. After making sure your door was locked, you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket, a yawn falling from your lips. You were definitely gonna call it an early night.

The soft clicking of your front door shutting brought Jason's attention back to the present. You obviously got home safe. He should get going. He should get going.

But he stayed rooted on the spot.

The rain fell around him, hitting the concrete rooftop he was frozen on. His helmet suddenly felt claustrophobic and he took it off gasping, the rain soaking his hair. The cold rush of despairing thoughts that he had grown used to flooded back into his brain. His heart grew still in his chest and he felt his smile disappear.

He had smiled?

He hadn't smiled since the pit. He hadn't smiled since he died. You retreated into your apartment and took all the sunshine with you. The sunshine that hadn't been able to reach his skin for years. With a sickening thought, Jason realized that he was about to make a very, very, very bad decision.

Who was he to deny himself happiness? Didn't he deserve to be happy after everything he had been through? He argued with himself as his gaze remained on your front door, trying to will himself to push away the wickedly possessive desire that he felt for you. Jason ran through all the possible outcomes that could come from.. whatever this was, but nothing held a match at the prospect of having you. He had to have you.

Fuck it.

Locking away the part of his mind which screamed at him to stop, he leapt from the rooftop, landing softly on the balls of his feet. Carefully, his head on a swivel for anyone walking by, he took out his phone. His finger hovered over the photo button, his mind telling him that if he did this, there was no going back. He snapped a photo of your apartment.

As he made his way back to the safehouse he was staying in, he could feel you being cemented in his mind. Every raindrop that hit his skin felt like it was washing away everything that he thought was important until only you remained. The image of your precious face became ingrained in his mind. By the time he got back to his safehouse, the only goal he had was to know as much about you as he possibly could.

He was already at his computer, his helmet tossed to the other side of the room. His clothes were still soaked from the rain, but he didn't care. This was more important. You were more important.

Using Bruce's tech, being careful not to leave a trace, he uploaded the photo he had taken of your apartment and began to run a search. Within less than 5 minutes he had everything he would need to keep you for himself. Your school records, social media posts, and more were at his fingertips. He took the liberty of adding himself to your bank account, hacking in so he could be aware of every transaction you made. Soon he would be the one making them for you.

Jason spent the night scrolling through your information. For once he was glad for Bruce's training, as his disciplined mind allowed him to commit everything about you to memory. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, and he was vaguely aware that it was well past 3AM, but he was enraptured reading your search history.

How to change a lightbulb?

Cute.

As soon as he could get a copy of your key made you would never need to change a lightbulb again. Every so often he would come across a photo of you dressed up for some event; a christmas party, a graduation, whatever. When he saw those photos, every doubt that was trying to creep back into his mind was pushed away by his increasingly twisted desire for you.

Jason knew he had gone off the deep end, but if this is what drowning felt like he would gladly let you kill him all over again. When he went to bed that night, he fell asleep knowing you now belonged to him.

And you didn't even know it yet.

#oneshot #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #stalker!jason todd #jason todd

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blingblong55 · 11 months

Text

The Heart Nebula- Simon "Ghost" Riley

GN!Reader, Angst, established relationship, Civilian! Reader

A/N: listen to this song You Could Start a Cult-Niall Horan, the last part kills me, every damn time

Simon was never the easiest of men to tame. Not because of his playboy antics, but because of his issues with trust and overall him understanding someone loved him. It took so much time to even get him to comprehend that what you felt for him was real. He has been your partner for approximately 6 years, and it's safe to say you two have learned a lot in those six years. By year one he started to open up to you about what he does for a living. He had mentioned he was a soldier, just not who he really is.

By year two, he told you about his family, something that took nearly six months to tell the full story. Then, he opened up about his friends, like a close friend of his by the name of Johnny, and a man name Kyle. Who he saw as a younger sibling. By year 3 and 4, he finally told you he loved you, that he has loved you, just that he couldn't find a clear way to say it.

Which by the way frustrated him, you were giving so much, always telling him you loved him, which you always meant of course. It was also the year you two moved in together. By year 5 he introduced you to the men he works with, some couldn't believe he actually was telling the truth this entire time. Not that he couldn't date as someone as charming, beautiful and kind as you, but because they swore he would end up being an old, lonely grumpy man once he retires.

By year six, he was as open as could be, always making jokes about his past and being the biggest baby when he got sick. He bumped his arm somewhere at base? oh its nothing, didn't even hurt one bit.

He bumped his arm at home? He goes to you, asking you to kiss his arm because he swears it hurts, although it literally doesn't. One time he got sick, it was just a few coughs and some sniffles, and there he lays in bed, cuddling you and always being babied by you.

One time you caught him faking being sick. But, because you knew this was his best way to get more cuddles than usual, you let it pass.

It was a super long journey that is for sure. From being so odd, quiet, grumpy and cold to you in the beginning to running to you asking for more kisses, back rubs, telling you how much he loved you, crying because he is laughing to much.

You saved his life without knowing it was even at risk. Nobody understood how strong your relationship was, not man or woman could ever break you two apart. At first you had to admit you swore he was cheating on you, the discreet calls at night, the no show ups at dates, because he was called to base, and the walls he put up to protect himself.

But, when you are young they assume you know nothing. Now, if they ask you, you know more than you let on. You know how he likes his tea, how he takes his coffee and when, like at what time or when would be the exact time he would be craving one. You went from barely holding hands to kissing under starry nights and dancing under street posts.

Yes, at some point you had your doubts, but, he is your man. Always has said it himself. There were nights when you thought for sure this was just him wasting time. But, you go home to him, his boots beneath your shared bed.

And now, here you were, sitting on a rock as you stare at the ocean. Simon broke up with you, you weren't sure why, but he did. It was for sure an all of the sudden situation. The moon was your only light source, you sobbed earlier, now you stare at the ocean, letting the breeze pass by as you feel numb.

One part of you for sure died tonight.

There was of course a reason he ended things to soon. 2290 days of loving you and he just ended it? So easily?

It was late May, when Simon was deployed for a classified mission. It was hell for sure, but it's nothing he hasn't seen before. While he apprehended the main target, the man told him something that made Ghosts blood run cold.

"R/n, won't get to see august."

And after a few weeks of being away, he was home. He told you things he knew weren't true.

"You are just so clingy, always asking for my time! I can't just be with friends because all you do is call me to come home, I need my time back!"

But that was a lie, you both. knew it. It was just a one time thing when you seriously needed someone around, and fuck, he would drop everything to just come home and cuddle you. He didn't even like going out, he always wanted to stay home, not leave, because in fact, he was the clingy one. Not you.

Right now, he is regretting that decision, he is currently calling out for you. Driving around town, your favourite places, the places you once told him about. He was desperate to say the least. All he wanted was to love someone without repercussions. The love of his life was threaten, not to your face, but his.

Finally he found you, sitting on that rock, looking at the ocean and stars. He approached you, he heard your small sniffles.

"R/n, I'm sorry, i...I didn't mean to say those things...I didn't even mean to break up with you."

All you did was pat a spot next to you, not once looking back at him. Which he took. He looked at you in concern. You always spoke your mind, so why keep quiet now?

"Love-"

You handed him a necklace, Merkaba diamond necklace, you wanted to show him something a while ago, but the last piece of the puzzle arrived this morning. "whats this, love?" "Three years ago, you told me that when you were a kid, you had a poster of the planets and stars. Said it was your thing. I told you it was also my thing, which we have bonded time and time from."

He looked at you, letting you continue on.

"Well, a while ago, i adopted a star, an actual star, and I even got a telescope...I was waiting on the certificate to arrive, and well...it arrived this morning." He was devastated, part of him had hope, but the other part, knew he had ruined something so beautiful and special to both of you.

"I adopted a star in the Heart Nebula,"

"and where is that located in the sky, love?"

"its in the Perseus Arm of the Galaxy in the Cassiopeia constellation."

"I...you really did that?"

You nod and bring your legs to your chest, it was the only comfort you could receive.

This was it. This topped every little touch and word you ever told him. You had told him many moons ago about this, that this could be the last puzzle in your love story, because funny enough, he wanted to do the same. Wanted to come to this very spot, play "Sleepwalk" by Santo and Johnny and propose to you. Then, he wanted to show you that he bought a star in the Heart Nebula. But you clearly beat him to it.

He swore this was the day, almost every thing in this moment felt like a movie scene, except, you two, he should be holding you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings as you cry because he had finally proposed. Instead, you both sit there, the both missing a piece.

pt2

A/N: I had a dream this happened to me and since I cried, figured you should relive what I went through...bye now!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

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ladyofthenoodle · 4 months

Text

this christmas i’m thinking about “it’s a wonderful life” and adrien agreste. imagine plagg coming over to marinette’s to talk with the kwamis. he’s concerned about adrien, who hasn’t been himself since he learned the truth about his father. maybe it’s after season 5, and he wasn’t even there to help defeat monarch. and he learns he’s the reason his mother is dead, and now his father too, and his father terrorized all these people to bring his mother back. and he sits on this and thinks maybe things would be better if he’d never been born. maybe there’d be no monarch. maybe his parents would be happy together. and it’s not like ladybug ever needed him, anyway.

plagg came to ask tikki and marinette for help. but it’s fluff who suggests giving adrien what he wants.

immediately, adrien can tell something’s darker about this new world. his mother is alive, but she’s not happy with gabriel. she’s not even in paris anymore—she went back to live with her parents and her sister—who doesn’t have a child, either. his father is even colder than adrien remembers, and he treats nathalie more like a servant than a partner.

still, there’s no monarch. so adrien thinks this world could still be better than one with him in it.

but no monarch means no ladybug. as he walks down the street, he sees mister ramier getting arrested. at school, damocles is nothing more than a puppet that follows andre bourgeois’ orders—which are still chloe’s orders, here, and without adrien or ladybug, she’s crueler than he’s ever seen her. he barely recognizes his friends. nino sits in the back of class and doesn’t speak to anyone. alya reads superhero comics alone with her head down. mlle bustier is gone—fired in within the first few weeks of the school year at chloe’s behest.

and marinette… isn’t there.

he finds out she’s been expelled. no one knows where she is now—alya doesn’t even know her name and no one else has bothered to check on her. he runs to find her, but the bakery’s been shut down—orders of the mayor. he can see the lights on above, though, and that someone is still living there. but when he transforms and lands on marinette’s balcony, its bare. no plants, no decorations, nothing. she’s there in her room though. when he looks through the window he can see her studying with sabine. her desk has nothing but textbooks. no design sketches, no bulletin board of friend pictures, nothing.

when sabine leaves the room, marinette curls into a ball and cries.

that’s when adrien begs fluff to take him back. when he says, “i want to live again. take me back to my lady, please.”

#miraculous ladybug #fic ideas #adrien agreste #noodling #obviously he returns and runs to see marinette #who has every person in their class over and a pull down wall scroll with a 27 step plan to help him #he runs in crying and kisses her and no one knows what is going on but they all start cheering anyway

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gabessquishytum · 2 months

Note

Arranged marriage idea!

Dream’s parents force him to marry Hob, an eligible omega whose family has money, which the endless family needs. Dream hugely resents it.

But hob is in love with Dream. He was actually happy to be marrying him. He admired Dream and thought he was so smart and beautiful and respectful—before the wedding hob is giddy with joy. Until he walks down to the altar and sees Dream, clearly displeased, his scent sour with annoyance.

And hob realizes the moment he says his vows that he is now effectively in a loveless marriage.

Their wedding night is…awful. Dream is impersonal and barely does the minimum to ensure hob enjoys himself and doesn’t meet his eye even once.

After, he tells hob that as soon as hob has given him an heir, hob is free to take a lover.

Hob doesn’t say anything but he does his best to not let dream see that he’s heartbroken. Dream doesn’t even stay the night. He goes back to his own quarters and leaves hob alone.

But this is hob. So he mourns for a while and then he decides to move on with life. Marrying dream catapulted him high in society and just because his husband doesn’t want him doesn’t mean he is worthless.

So hob starts attending events and throwing them himself. He starts making friends. He opens up Dream’s dreary house and redecorates and brings his sense of life and determination to everything he does.

Soon he’s kind of a darling of their society. He’s earned himself plenty of friends and tons of admirers.

Dream is…surprised to say the least. People compliment him all the time on hob and tell him how lucky he must feel. Meanwhile they only really see each other during hob’s heat or Dream’s rut or when Dream accompanies him to a party. Dream never dances with him.

They make stilted conversation. Or hob does. But he gets nothing from dream.

However dream is starting to admire hob.

By the time the twins, robin and Orpheus, are born, things are coming full circle. Hob has decided to stop waiting on his husband and he find a lover.

And Dream has become rather smitten with his husband. Maybe it’s watching him care for their sons, maybe it was the way hob held onto him when he first started contractions, maybe Dream always had the potential to feel this way. But years too late, he’s finally ready to court his omega.

I loooove this concept, and I also love that we definitely all have the same braincell because I know for a fact that @seiya-starsniper has a wip which follows a similar storyline - but with the secondary genders flipped! It's something I'm very excited about (while also putting no pressure on you seiya alsksjdhd <333). Anyway, I'm gonna talk a lil bit about this because I do love a good arranged marriage trope.

I just live for the idea of Dream courting the man hes been married to for years at this point. He realises that he doesn't know enough about Hob, so he start learning. His favourite foods, his habits, little treats that he indulges in, the bath salts that he likes best. Dream learns it all, and starts using his new knowledge. He sends Hob flowers. He buys him new outfits. He spends time with the boys so Hob can rest. He actually listens and responds when Hob nervously tries to engage him in conversation.

Meanwhile Hob is just so confused and lost as to why his husband is finally interacting with him. What changed? Did he realise that Hob was starting to look elsewhere and decided that he wanted Hob for himself after all? It's kind of frustrating. But because the boys like having both mama and papa around together, Hob makes an effort to respond to Dream. They take daytrips. They hold hands on the street. Dream asks him to dance at the first big garden party of the summer, and Hob accepts (after he's picked his jaw up off the floor).

So they're both in love with each other, but neither of them knows what to say or do to take the next step. It's easier during heats and ruts when they're not thinking so much, but the rest of the time they're both scared of shattering the uneasy happiness they've built. Especially Dream, who still feels guilty. He knows that Hob isn't totally done with being angry with him...

Then Hob gets pregnant again, which was unplanned for... and with hormones rolling around his body, Hob finally can't hold back anymore! He ends up standing with his hands on his hips, the picture of the perfect pregnant omega, scolding his alpha while Dream literally grovels on his knees. As he should!

The happy accident baby finally brings them together, and Robin and Orpheus are thrilled with the new addition to the family. Dream finally takes Hob on the long awaited honeymoon that they never had the first time around - and he never takes his omega for granted, ever again.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse #cw mpreg

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piedpiperart · 10 months

Text

Phantom in Gotham

Due to Ao3 being down, I’m posting my DP x DC fic here!

Chapter 1

Tim wasn't sure what about the new kid caught his attention. Maybe it was the black hair and blue eyes, or the fact that he seemed to be as sleep-deprived as Tim considering the deep eyebags. Tim figured it could also be the numerous red flags that somehow keep appearing the more he gets to know Danny. The unnaturally cold hands, slower than usual heartbeat (discovered by Connor), or the fact that Danny used the lunch period as more of a nap time instead of actually eating. To put it lightly, Tim was concerned. So was Connor, but less in a way of ‘hey this kid probably needs help’ like Tim was and more ‘hey this kid might be dangerous’.

But the kid was nice. Tim could see that Danny was a good person. Every morning at school since Danny started showing up- halfway through the school year, which was another red flag- he'd talk to Tim before their class started about everything and anything. Tim learned that Danny liked astronomy, wanted to meet Martian Manhunter someday to ask about space, he had an older sister Jazz and a younger sister Ellie, both of whom he hadn't seen in a while. Tim didn't press, but he was pretty sure Danny was living on his own. He just wasn’t sure why.

Of course, many possibilities crossed his mind. Tim was a detective first and foremost, and he could never leave an unsolved mystery alone. His list included runaway, kicked out, in danger, or on the run because of meta abilities. Because of that last oneTim wasn’t sure if he should look him up on the batcomputer or not. If Danny was running or laying low for some reason, tipping Batman off about it would not work in Danny’s favor. Tim also wanted to find this out on his own first, without Batman’s help.

Tim helped as best he could. He brought granola bars for Danny in the morning, who lit up like an excited puppy at the prospect of snacks. He felt good about being able to help his new friend, but wished he could do more than keep him company during class and lunch. Speaking of lunch, Danny never ate much of it. Tim usually tried to get him to eat something, but Danny usually waved him off and took a nap at their table instead. Tim would share a concerned glance with Steph and Connor, but for the most part they let him sleep, and made him eat a bunch of his school lunch after he woke up.

Danny never asked for anything, and he was always cheerful- a forced cheerfulness, Tim could recognize- catching him in those rare moments when he wore a sad smile, like something he remembered was painful to think about. Tim wasn't sure what Danny had gone through, but he knew it probably wasn't good. He assumed the kid was a runaway of sorts, but Gotham Academy was a rich prep school, so Tim wondered how a runaway would be able to afford attendance at such a school. Obviously the kid wasn’t from Gotham, and that worried Tim with how much crime went on around the city. One possibility was that his parents sent him away as a ‘boarding school’ of sorts. Tim wasn’t sure how Gotham Prep was the best option for that though.

Tim wanted nothing more than to investigate Danny's life, but had put it off. Part of him wanted Danny to tell him himself, but he had also been swamped with a new vigilante on the streets. None of the other bats ever saw who it was, but they all could feel something helping them or other people out. Like some invisible force they couldn't detect. It was hard to notice at first, with a few crooks tripping conveniently, a well placed pot falling on someone’s head. But it grew to become more, like one of them getting pushed out of the way, or sheets of ice appearing magically on the ground in the middle of summer. Tim had tried to call out, but no one ever answered. After a month, the invisible ghost still hadn’t showed itself, but they knew he- it? she?- was still around. Dick thought it was like a ghost friend, unsurprisingly nicknaming it Casper. Bruce, not so much.

But back to Danny. Tim was worried. Granted, they'd only known each other for a month at most, but he reminded Tim of Dick. Always hiding sad smiles behind false cheer, caring more about the people around them than themself. Tim shook his head, trying to disperse the thoughts around Danny's mysterious past. It would be rude to pry.

"You sure you don't want to come over after school?" Tim asked,"Steph and I are gonna do homework, you can totally join us if you want."

"Ah," Danny froze, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly a moment later. Tim could see his pale skin and deep eyebags from standing so close. He chewed his lower lip in worry while the taller teen stammered through an excuse. "I- I have some things to do at home, you know, chores and stuff. Maybe next time."

"Alright,"Tim answered easily, filing the answer down to analyze later. Meanwhile Steph booed at Danny from behind Tim. "Maybe next time? You could come over for movie night on Friday?" Steph added, frustration seeping into her voice,. Tim was sure Danny was either ignoring her outburst or didn’t notice.

"I'll think about it,"Danny smiled nervously, stepping away and waving goodbye when they got to the street.

Tim waved back, shoulders slumping in disappointment. Steph shot him a knowing glance. "Looks like you're wearing him down at least. He'll be a Wayne before you know it!" Steph cheered, latching onto Tim's arm and dragging him to the car.

"I hope so," Tim sighed. The wearing down part at least, but he wouldn’t argue to having a new brother his age.

"Hey, maybe he's just nervous about visiting the mansion?" Steph speculated. "Rich people's stuff can be a bit overwhelming. Maybe we can go to his house or somewhere else."

"I don't think so," Tim frowned. "Anytime we ask him to hang out after school he has some sort of excuse to get out of it, even if we invite him to the movies or bowling."

Steph pulled a face,"Well, maybe he just doesn't like you," She teased, then turned serious at Tim's glare.

"I am worried about him though,"Steph admitted, looking over to where Danny disappeared to,"He reminds me of Dick, but like, more sad. You said he was sick?"

Tim nodded in agreement, worrying his lip between his teeth as he thought. “Slow heartbeat, possibly malnourished, and lower body temperature, but other than that he acts fine. No low energy, he does pretty average in Gym class. I found a few diseases that it could be online, but I don’t have enough symptoms to narrow it down and it’d be weird to ask.“

"Have you looked him up on the batcomputer yet?" Steph asked, climbing into the car.

Tim shook his head. "Not yet. I don't want to pry too much, but I think he might be a runaway. It doesn't explain why he's at school, but it would partially explain his poor health. I just really don’t want Batman to find out, and he will if I use the Batcomputer. Connor also said his heartbeat was lower than he’d ever heard on someone not dying, so he might be a meta? It wouldn't be a stretch for his family to have kicked him out for being a meta. It happens."Tim thought aloud.

"Could also be a medical condition, like you said before." Steph pointed out. "I don’t know any metas that would have slower heartbeats, cuz usually enhancements means faster. He does seem kinda tired all the time. And he really doesn't eat much during school."

Tim hummed in agreement. "I'm just worried about him,"Tim sighed.

"Alright Bruce,"Steph teased, smacking him lightly on the shoulder,"Should I get Alfred to set up another bedroom?"

Tim shoved her playfully, frown morphing into the beginnings of a smile. "I'm not gonna adopt him Steph, he's our age."

"Sure,"Steph shrugged with a smile that told Tim she didn't believe him at all.

"Maybe Bruce would though, if we introduced them."

"Tim, no."

Chapter 2

#dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #tim drake

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hobisfavoritespritecan · 2 months

Note

Hello!!! Can you please write a Seo Moonjo fic, where he becomes possessive/obsessed with Jongwoo's gf or with a female who works with him?

Overcompensate

Absolutely lovely! Here's a bit of a drabble for you!

Pairing: Seo Moon-Jo X Reader

Warnings: mentions of gore & possessiveness, Moon-Jo shows very yandere tendencies, cannibalism allegories

Moon-jo was a simple man.

Not necessarily in theory, but in practice. He knew what it was he aspired to obtain in his lifetime and with the amount of work and dedication he put into those aspirations, it makes sense that he would achieve them. Simple.

But as to what he wanted and the lengths he would go to, stopping at nothing...that was a little more complicated.

To his surprise, he had found himself in a situation where the goal wasn't in relation to dentistry or murder. He was having a bit of an issue sorting out just exactly why the new tenant of Eden Residence was so captivating, so enthralling to him. What was it about the boy who lived next door that led Moon-Jo to believing that his existence was some sort of spiritual awakening he would have to come to discover? Why was he suddenly so fascinated in the idea of pulling back his brain and picking out all of his thoughts, consuming them in their entirety until there was nothing left of poor Jongwoo but a vessel of the human being he once was? It was Kafka-esque, a metamorphosis of his character; to watch him succumb to the ravaging animalistic qualities that Moon-Jo believed all humans to possess. It was strange and it was beautiful.

And oh, was it something Moon-Jo wanted.

So he put in the work. Day after day he spent trying to get under Jongwoo's flesh, tearing open another layer piece by piece to truly understand his newfound obsession. But with every step closer to his goal he got, the more confused he became. There was nothing he was learning that he had hoped for. Jongwoo was buckling under the weight of his neighbor's madness, yes. But he wasn't the right image of Moon-Jo's work. This frustrated him to no end.

He still remembers when everything finally clicked into place. The night had just fallen and the stars crept up in the sky, illuminating the long path to the Residence. Although the lights were dim, one could still make out the small cats darting back and forth as they played with one another in the underbrush. The air was crisp and still with no wind, a perfect temperature to end an outrageously hot summer day. Moon-Jo awaited on the rooftop with two beers, as he usually did, watching the path below for his Jongwoo to arrive back home with his furrowed expression of displeasure and overly large backpack slung over his shoulders from an excruciatingly long day at the office. He would be lucky to convince Jongwoo up to the roof where he sat and even luckier if he could manage to get him to drink his beer. He knew Jongwoo was onto him and his...stranger tendencies, but he would receive the fruits of his labor. He always did.

The beer can was cold under his grasp, the condensation slipping from his fingertips and falling beneath him as the drops pattered onto the cracked concrete. He was starting to grow slightly warm, however, he wasn't sure if it was because of the weather or the growing anticipation he felt as he awaited the boy's arrival. His eyes didn't leave the road once.

As he looked beneath him towards the winding street, he finally saw his neighbor trudging up the path, same expression on his face Moon-Jo had expected him to be wearing. But, to his surprise, walking beside the man he'd so desperately tried his best to court 24/7 was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life.

It shocked him-almost-his hand immediately dropping the beer he was holding as he lost his composure for the first time in many years. It was sudden, as though he'd been impaled by sword, piercing through his lungs and stopping his breath as his heart skipped a beat. He had never been so hungry, so devout for human meat. He didn't want to cannibalize you, no. But he so desperately wanted to consume you and your being which is almost the same thing...right? He knew what Jongwoo had meant to him now, it was almost so clear in the way it presented itself; Jongwoo was never meant to be the product of his manipulation. It had always had to have been you.

Your eyes looked up towards Eden, missing the strange man on the roof entirely. Moon-Jo found himself entranced by them, watching the way they shone under the stars and the soft light from the windows of the Residence. They were like Bosch's paintings of the divine, absolutely encapsulating the beauty of the gods. Your hair fell slightly past your shoulders and framed a face he could only assume belonged to heavens itself. Your body swayed with the movement of your feet as you followed your boyfriend's suit, duffel bag in hand.

Moon-Jo thought he had died and been met with the face of a deity.

On your end, the only thing you were thinking about was Jongwoo's warnings from earlier. Once he had moved to Seoul and started living in this dingy place, he had instantly been met with strange roommates whom he'd talk about often. You were worried about his dwindling sleep schedule and his overall safety, residing in a place like this on the outskirts of town. If something terrible were to happen here, you weren't even sure police would show up in this precinct. For Jongwoo's sake, however, you swallowed down your nervousness preparing to have that conversation with him later.

Collecting himself, Moon-Jo practically sprinted towards the stairs and made his way down to Mrs. Eom's desk, leaning against the dilapidated building's walls, forcing himself to contain the sparks flying through his veins. He had to keep himself together, make the most impeccable first impression and swoon you over, whoever you might be. He needed you to like him, to trust him. If he ruined his image right off the bat by voicing his true inner monologue, it would be so much harder to mold you to his image and sway you into his grasp.

"Jongwoo, are you sure this is something you want to do? We could always sleep at my place if you're as uncomfortable by this place as you say." You said, closing the heavy door behind you and setting down your duffel bag for a moment to regain your breath.

Jongwoo shrugged and picked up your things containing all your overnight clothes and whatever else you'd brought to work that day. He had just simple given you a "yeah, this is fine" before turning around to be met face-to-face with the one person he didn't want to see or have the imposition of introducing to his girlfriend at all. He had hoped he might be able to sneak you past and into his room before anyone even noticed he was there; as he usually did. He'd presumed Moon-Jo to be on the roof for his nightly drink, whenever he stayed at the residence and not in his own apartment.

Beside the wall-almost eerily so-Moon-Jo stood, ignoring Jongwoo completely. His eyes were trained on you as you gathered yourself enough to take him in, watching the man before you breathe in the very fiber of your being. He was tall and dark haired with extraordinary cheekbones. With a face card like that, you were sure he'd have had to be a model or do side-gigs of the sort. His smile was a pleasant one as it seemed inviting, but upon staring at it for a few moments, something about it felt off to you. His black button-up was loose around his collarbones and neatly tucked into his slacks. He was fairly handsome, you thought, forgetting that Jongwoo had warned you of this 'crazy neighbor' before inviting you to stay at his place to catch the train back home tomorrow.

A piercing feeling of nervousness took over your body and shocked you instantly. There was something extremely peculiar about this man and you wanted nothing to do with finding out what it was. There was something haunting about the depth of his cold, dark gaze, contrasting Jongwoo's warm and inviting one. You swore to yourself in that moment not to walk anywhere on these premises without Jongwoo for fear of running into this man alone.

However uncomfortable you may have felt, Moon-Jo was in love, if that's what you would call it. He wanted this-you, so intensely and so immediately that his entire body felt as though it were shaking with tremors. He would stop at absolutely nothing to have you, to own you. You were what he had been unknowingly waiting for his entire existence and Jongwoo had only been the key. Smiling, he shook his hand out towards yours, ignoring the complaints from your boyfriend from beside you.

"My name is Seo Moon-Jo. The pleasure is all mine."

"(Y/N)." You replied.

#fanfiction #strangers from hell #hobisfavoritespritecan #lee dong wook #fanfic writing #seo moon jo x reader #seo moonjo #jongwoo x reader #moonjo x jongwoo #strangers from hell x reader #all of us strangers #reader insert

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ashwhowrites · 6 months

Note

Could I request angst #1 with Eddie please❤️ RIP my heart out but maybe happy ending?

What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?

I hope this is enough angst for you!! And I hope it does rip your heart out. I tried my best <3 thank you for requesting

Good enough?

Eddie liked to give off the vibe that he was confident. That every negative comment thrown his way did nothing to affect him. He walked with his head high, danger in his eyes, and a fence around his heart. He's been burned too many times, so he didn't care to let anyone in. The people in his life all walked out on him, and he started to believe the common factor was him.

He planned to graduate and get the hell out of Hawkins. The only person he'd leave behind was Wayne, but even then, he wasn't around much. Eddie didn't spend his free time with anyone, just scrapping for money. A jar packed with every dollar he made, his ticket to get out. He's been saving for years, over hundreds of money.

He lived behind a wall, and he was scared to let anyone get too close to it. Because if they did, they'd see his right through it. His walls are made of glass, one shattering away from collapsing.

At the end of the day, he was lonely. And being lonely made him make stupid decisions, like falling in love.

~~~

Y/N was new to the school and to Hawkins. She looked lost and small, but gorgeous. A kind of gorgeous that Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of her. He kept staring, trying to see if she was real or a dream. She wore comfy clothes, nothing over the top for her first day in a new school. Which told Eddie she didn't feel the need to impress anyone. But, he kept walking by.

He saw her every day and every second. It was like she spawned right in front of him, no matter where he went. He couldn't escape from her.

And he never did escape from her. Her warm touch landed on his shoulder, and his body tingled in ways he never felt before. Her sweet voice complimented his shirt, and it stayed in his head. He tried to be polite, smile, and walk off. But then she followed, her number on a piece of paper. He planned to throw it away, he knew someone new wouldn't change anything.

But in a moment of weakness, he called her.

~~~

Two years passed, and they lived in a small trailer together. Their diplomas side by side on the wall. A reminder of where they met and the only achievement Eddie could hang up.

She lived behind the glass walls with him. He cut out a door for her to slip through, her gentle body squeezing in. The glass stood tall, touches of them on the walls to remind him he wasn't stuck in there alone.

He thought she'd leave a long time ago, but here she was, twirling around in his arms in her white dress. The biggest smile he's ever felt across his lips. Their wedding was a tiny dance in their kitchen. Neither had a family to share the memory with. Wayne got a job and left Eddie behind. But Eddie was okay with it, now he had a wife to lie side by side with.

Eddie didn't know how to be a husband, and she didn't know how to be a wife. Both learn together with training wheels. But Eddie has never found himself happier. He still had his dream of leaving, which she supported. They'd run off together and Eddie would get his dream of being a rockstar.

~~~

Time flew, and before Eddie knew it, they were celebrating their third wedding anniversary.

Eddie was running a tad late to the house, stopping by the store to get flowers. He was buzzing with excitement. They saved enough to leave Hawkins forever, and he planned to share that news tonight.

Eddie drove home, a smile on his face as he passed the familiar streets.

The tiny restaurant he proposed at, he remembered how scared he was.

Eddie couldn't eat any of the food, the box in his pocket rubbing against his thigh. His nerves swimming in his stomach, he felt like everything he ever ate was going to come back up. She watched him worriedly as she sipped her wine. Her warm hand clenched his as she asked if he was alright. He smiled and said he was fine.

The sweat on his hairline as he took a deep breath. He reached into his pocket and slid off his chair. Dropping to his knee in front of her, kissing her left hand as he held it. He remembered the shocked look on her face, the tears that slid down her cheeks. The way he choked out the words through his own tears. "I've never had a home, just a roof over my head. I've never had love, just a piece of paper saying I was Wayne's. But now I found home and love in the same place. You are my home, and I learned what love felt like because of you. You are the only person in my life that hasn't left me behind. And I want you forever, us forever, and a home forever. I promise I'll give you a home, family, and the love you showed me."

Eddie wiped a silent tear that fell down his cheek, he smiled at the memory and kept driving. A few blocks down he saw the light post, a sting in his heart.

It was a stormy night, the rain poured and thunder cracked throughout the silence. He was running down the street, praying the rain covered his tears, and the thunder blocked out his sobs. Her feet pounding behind him, racing to catch up with him. Her hand reached out and grabbed his jacket.

"TALK TO ME!" she pleaded, her own tears flying down her face as she turned Eddie around. His eyes closed as he refused to look at her. He wanted to run away from the fight and hide from the consequences.

"Baby, please? It's me" She tried again. She wrapped her arms around him, their soaked clothes sticking to each other as he broke down in her arms. His legs gave out as dropped to his knees, and she sank down with him. Her touch never left his as she tangled her hand in his wet curls.

"Just please don't leave me. You are all I have. I know I fuck up a lot, I know I'm a mess and make it impossible to love me. Please don't give up on me."

"Oh Eddie, I'll never leave you. I love you so much, and we all make mistakes. You are my mess, and you are the only mess I'd ever want. I'd never give up on you, okay? I'm always going to love you."

Eddie kept on driving, his mind busy with the memories of her. He pulled into the driveway, a smile on his face as he held the flowers. He turned his key, walking into the house. He could smell the dinner on the stove, the soft music playing through the radio, but no sight of his wife. Eddie hummed as he put the flowers in a vase, setting it on the table.

"BABE?" Eddie yelled, he checked on the dinner before moving around the house. He wasn't sure where she was.

He headed to the bedroom, calling her again as he opened the door.

And there she was,

Standing in tight lingerie, red and black lace covering her chest and cunt. The rest of her skin showed off by the mesh. Her hair curled and messy, red lips smeared, and eyeliner sharp. Eddie thought his wife looked beautiful.

"I can explain!" She rushed out, Eddie's eyes moved away from her and settled on the man behind her.

Eddie felt his heart being torn into a thousand pieces. She reached out to him, her ring still on her finger. Eddie backed away, ignoring the hurt on her face as he tried to find the words. Eddie recognized the man, it was Y/N's boss. He couldn't say a word as her boss quickly ran out of the house.

"I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you." Y/N cried, the tears already falling as she grabbed Eddie's hand. But it was like her touch set him off. Yanked him back down to reality.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" he screamed, not a single part of him felt guilty as she jumped back. Her hands back to her own space as she nervously chewed on her nail.

"Please I can explain!"

"Explain what? I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! I GAVE YOU FUCKING EVERY SINGLE THING I HAD!" Eddie screamed.

He's been burned so many times.

He's been left by so many people.

Just as he expected, the glass house shattered and he was cut by the shreds.

"How could you do this to me? In our bed? In our house? On our fucking anniversary?" Eddie was shooting off questions, and she didn't have any answers. She sobbed as he watched. He didn't know how to feel. It was like he didn't feel anything but anger.

He felt like he should be sad, and heartbroken. But he felt fire in his veins and wanted to hurt her way worse than she hurt him.

"I don't know! But Eddie, please. I'm so sorry, you have to believe me!" She pleaded, but Eddie wasn't having any of it.

"Believe you?" he scoffed, "BELIEVE YOU?" he repeated. "I SPENT ALL THESE YEARS BELIEVING YOU! WHEN YOU SAID YOU LOVE ME, WHEN YOU MARRIED ME, WHEN YOU PROMISED NEVER TO LEAVE OR HURT ME. ALL I DID WAS BELIEVE YOU. I should have known you were just like everyone else. What happened to you? What changed?" Eddie asked, he refused to let himself cry in front of her about it. He spent years refusing to cry over everything, but what was he supposed to do when his everything made him feel like nothing.

"I was unhappy with you, and I was stupid. It happened once then again and again. I know it doesn't make anything better, but he was never supposed to be here."

"Oh well thank you for that! I am so glad that you had the heart to cheat everywhere but our house." Eddie mocked, rolling his eyes.

"How were you unhappy? I did everything you wanted. I mean FUCK! WE STAYED HERE BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO. WE BOUGHT THIS HOUSE BECAUSE YOU WANTED IT. WE HAD THE WEDDING YOU WANTED. We were meant to leave Hawkins behind, and you told me you wanted to stay, and I did for you." Has Eddie explained everything more things were clicking in his head.

"When did you two start?" he asked, his eyes in slits as he glared over at her.

"I don't know. But it's the past! Please we can fix this. We can fix our marriage and have the family we always wanted. Please don't give up on us. Let me fix this." She cried as she clung to his arms desperately. Eddie could see the regret in her eyes, but he couldn't trust her.

"What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough? I've been trying ever since we met. I'm done trying because look where it got me. I gave up my dream in music just so you could stay here and why? For him? Because you picked that he was more important than my dream?"

"I didn't pick between you!" She tried to defend but Eddie just couldn't hold it in.

"YOU ALREADY PICKED HIM! You picked him the second you decided you wanted to stay here. We had a chance to run away like we always dreamed about. Then you changed your mind. You begged me to have our family here. But that's what you truly meant was it? You begged me to stay here so you didn't have to leave him. It wasn't about raising a family in the town I grew up in. It wasn't about the place we fell in love. It was about all about him. You are so fucking selfish. You made me give up everything so you could have it all, and that still wasn't enough. You played me stupid and made me stay here so you could continue your affair? I can't stand you." Eddie hissed. He was done, and the love he felt for her was not enough.

"You're right," she said quietly, "It was about him. I wanted to stay because I didn't want to lose that feeling. And I'm sorry I got caught up. It was just because it was new and exciting! I don't love him, not even close to the amount of love I have for you. I want you, and a family. You are way more important and I'm sorry I broke your heart. "She sobbed, her hands against his cheeks. He tried to hold back his tears but her soft touch reminded him of the love they had together. The nights they were tangled up and their hearts beat together. But broken hearts don't beat anymore.

"We're done," Eddie said, he stepped back and let a small tear fall.

"Eddie no." She pleaded but Eddie shook his head.

"The old you would have never done this to me. She actually loved me, and when she said it, she meant it. The girl I married meant it. You cheated because I made you unhappy? No, you cheated because you were unhappy with yourself. And that's not my godman fault."

"Excuse me?" She snapped, "Unhappy with myself? You aren't the only one that put work into this marriage. I dealt with assholes in high school for giving you a chance. I sacrificed my wedding because we couldn't afford anything. After all, your record stopped you from getting a job. Maybe I was unhappy because you held me back! Maybe I was unhappy because I busted my ass making money to pay all our bills while you tried to make a career happen from your band. Maybe I cheated because I wanted to be taken care of instead of taking care of you." She breathed heavily, her tears gone as she fumed.

"You are so two-faced. We had conversations about my band and your job. YOU TOLD ME TO WORK ON THE BAND AND YOU'LL COVER THE BILLS IN THE MEANTINE BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO DO WHAT I LOVED! You can't throw that in my face now. I offered to get a job, I told you I had connections in California for us, and none of that was good enough for you. You don't get to turn this all on me so you can keep your hands clean. I did everything you told me to do. We sleep side by side every night. If you were unhappy, you had every chance to say something. But that would mean you had to be the bad guy right? But don't worry about it. I won't hold you back. Go live out your house fantasy with your boss, fucking your way up to a promotion, and have him take care of you. See how far lust over love gets you."

Eddie was met with silence. He scoffed and began to pack his bags.

"Just going to leave?" She asked

He collected everything he had in a rush and grabbed his jar from the closet. He was going to make it with or without her.

"Yeah. Since we move on to new shiny things instead of talking things out." Eddie spat out.

"You really think you can do this on your own? You weren't good enough to make it in Hawkins, what makes you think you are good enough to make it in California?"

~~~

"Ladies and gentlemen, Eddie Munson."

Two years later, Eddie stood on a big stage. The crowd chanted his name as the spotlight blinded him from seeing the crowd. His guitar was in his hand and his new band was behind him.

The smile on his face never left. The California air swept across his forehead and he felt the breeze on his arms. The sound of the ocean echoed as he sang and the crowd sang along.

He didn't hold anyone back.

She held him back.

And leaving her was the best thing he ever did. He made it on his own because he was good enough. He was good enough to achieve his dream and damn good enough to be a star.

He struggled with love, and now he has thousands of people that love him all across the world. All these people that saved him, and some he saved right back.

He didn't struggle about being good enough because he was always good enough.

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #rockstar eddie munson angst #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar! eddie x reader

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thenewausten · 1 month

Text

Quackity Imagine: You're losing me [Part 2]

Part 1: here!

Five months ago, Alex destroyed your heart. To be honest, he destroyed all of you when he said he didn't love you anymore. It still hurts, not like it hurted on the first day, but it still hurts.

You went to therapy, you met new people, went to parties, continued your life and it still hurted. Of course, it was five years of a very intense and great relationship, full of love, confidence and passion. A relationship you thought would last forever, but forever is a long time, and as everyone says, nothing last for so long. Everyone, all the people, and everything, all the things, the relationships, the bonds with your friends and even with your family... Everything comes to an end, time touches all the people and things you love with all of your heart, body and soul. No one is safe when it comes to it.

Sometimes, you wish you never met Alex, because the pain is very profound. You never thought you'd feel something like this in your life. Not because of Alex. It's like a 'fuckin grief when you wake up in the middle of the night and see he's not there with you.

It sucks that, when you lost him, you lost yourself. You don't know who you're, not anymore. You're trying to discover, to find yourself again, your strength and a reason to keep going.

You were learning to do, by yourself, what you loved to do with him. So, today, it's raining, but you want to take the coffee of your favourite Coffee Shop, you grab your umbrella, put on a coat and some boots to stay heated and put your headphones on, "Right were you left me" by Taylor Swift starting to play on it, making everything more powerful, melancholy and dramatic. Shit, this song hurts.

As soon as you arrive on the Coffee Shop, you close your umbrella and smiles to the attendant. "Y/N! Oh my God, hi!" She says to you with a smile on her face. "Hi! How are you?!" You approach her and smile. "I'm fine! And you?" She asks and you sigh before answering. "I'm... Living." You answer and she nods. "Alex told me what happened, I'm sorry."

"What? Does he still come here?!" You frown your eyebrows and Elena, the attendant, nods. "He does, almost everyday, to be honest." That's so weird, Alex always said he didn't like the coffee of here so much. "Don't make this face, it's obvious that he misses you." She says and you feel your heart ache. "But he was the one who broke up with me, Elena."

"He said it's the worst thing he ever did, dear." She says and you frown your eyebrows even more. "But..." God, only to hear about Alex you want to cry. Only to hear about the fact he misses you makes your heart almost stop beating.

"Sorry, I shouldn't say anything." Elena whispers as she sees your face. "No, it's.. It's okay." You say. "Can I have my favourite coffee, please?" You ask and she nods. "Sure."

"Here." Elena gives you your coffee after almost three minutes. "Look, Alex told me what happened the first time he appeared here, by himself. He said it was a mistake... He never stopped loving you. I'm only saying that to you because I believe it, you know? I believe that he still loves you. He's suffering so much because of what he did. I can tell you, Y/N... I saw true love two times in my life. With my parents relationship and with yours, on that table..." She points to the table you and Alex used to sit to drink your coffee. "True love is bigger than the time. There are things that, not even the time can touch. Only death, because it's the only thing we can't scape from." The black haired girl says and smiles to you. A single tear escapes from one of your eyes and she points to the coffee. "It's on the house."

You drank your coffee on the way back to your apartment, watching the people on the street as you hold your cry. You didn't want to seem crazy and start to sob in the middle of the avenue, so as soon as you locked the door of your house, you sat on the floor and started crying.

Alex was in pieces, the boy never hated his ownself more than he's hating now. He hates himself because of all the damage he caused on you, because of all the anger, the way he yelled at you, the way he made you cry, the way he lost you. Shit, he lost you.

To live without you is a torture, to not hold you in his arms, to not kiss your face and lips, to not hear your laugh, to not have you... Damn, how could he think he stopped loving you?! All the fear and anxiety about his own future made him lose the only person he couldn't lose. You. He just wanted you back. He just wanted to have a time machine sometimes, so he wouldn't fail with you.

The memories would destroy his heart, the way you both fell in love for each other, the way you both learned english, the way you moved together... The laughs, the nights, the dates. It comes to him in a glimpse in every thing he does. You're in every part of his life, even after five months. You'll always be.

Alex never thought he'd see you again in his life, but, a few weeks later, the boy discovers that he's wrong. Again. He sees you alone at a cozy pub, you were wearing his favourite sweater, he saw it one day and it made him think of you, so he just brought it to you. He didn't want to bother you, he didn't have courage to do it, but his body made his way to inside of the pub. You were reading a book, but the noise of the door made you look away from the pages. Made you look at him. Your ex boyfriend.

The book closes as he approaches you, and at the same time you get up from your chair. Every part of your body was tingling, your heart beating so fast on your chest and your stomach hurting with the feeling of seeing him after all this time. Alex felt the same, but the guilty was consuming him from the inside to the outside. The pain on your both eyes made everything clear for the both of you. Pain only comes when there's love in the middle of something, and the love you both felt for each other was there. It was never gone. It could never go away. Elena was right. Time couldn't erase true love, only death, but maybe, not even death.

"I didn't know I'd see you again." Alex says as he approaches your table, his voice is a mess, already trembling with emotion. "I didn't know I'd see you again either." You whisper. "How are you?" You ask. "I... I'm not happy. To be honest, I'm very miserable." You can see it by his dark circles in his eyes. Still handsome. Still broke your heart in pieces. "You?"

"I'm not that good, you know?! You destroyed my heart." He looks away and sighs, there's only sadness in his face. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have done what I did, I didn't understand back then, but now I do." All the anger on his voice is gone, the only thing you hear is regret. "I thought I stopped loving you, but I was paralysed by the fear, by the anxiety, by my 'fuckin work." He says. "I'd never stop loving you."

"What do you want me to do, Alex?!" Tears wet your cheeks as you ask the boy in front of you. "You don't need to do anything if you don't want to, Y/N. I'm here to say to you that I dream about you almost everyday, I don't even like the coffee of your favourite Coffee Shop but I'm going there almost everyday so I can remember all of our good moments on the table we'd sit. Every damn thing I do makes me think of you, when I lay on my bed to sleep I think about you, when I cook I think about you. You're in every part of my life. You're in everywhere, Y/N. I don't want you to do anything, but... Jesus, how I wanted to have you back." Alex wipes away his tears. At this point, you didn't even know what to say. "You probably don't want me back, I understand it, but I just wanted you to know that I made the worst mistake of my life, that I'd change my actions if I could go back in time, that I'd... Shit, I can't." The boy covered his face with his both hands as he starts to cry in front of you. "I wish I'd still have the chance to buy our house, to marry you and have children with you, Y/N."

Damn, the last phrase almost killed you. The boy making your heart in pieces again, but in a different way now. You approach him as he starts to sob uncontrollably, just like you did in front of him when he broke up with you. Your hand on his back as you comfort him, Alex can't help but hug you by the waist, crying on your mustard yellow sweater that he loved so much. Just like he loved you.

"Alex, it's okay." You whisper as he hugs you tighter. "Let's take a sit, c'mon." You tried to control your voice and your own feelings because of Alex. In almost one year of friendship and five years of relationship you never saw him like this. You sit the boy on the chair beside yours. "Do you want me to grab you some water?" You ask him. "No, I'm fine." He tries to breathe. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." You whisper and wipe your own tears. "No, I mean... Can you at least forgive me for what I did to you?!"

"Of course, 'Lex. I forgive you." You say to him and he nods, looking at your sweater. "You know, it's not easy some days. I never wanted our relationship to end." You start, looking to your own sweater. "I couldn't totally move on, not yet. I don't know if I can do it, you know?! If one day I'll wake up and won't love you anymore. It feels like a part of my heart will always love you." Alex doesn't say anything as more tears wet his cheeks. "I can't ask you to try again because I feel like I don't deserve you." He says, the sadness in his voice is so deep you might cut it with a knife. "Of course you do, Alex. You made a mistake, but you always treated me so good. That's one of the reasons why I wanted to marry you. You'd treat our children as good as you treated me."

"I would." He whispers and you hold his hand. "I need to find myself again, Alex, and you need to forgive your ownself. There's no way to try again right now." You say. "You broke me, I betrayed myself so many times just so I could have you and I want to be sure that I'm better. That you're better, you know?! I can't do it again right now. There's so many things to fix between us, I don't want to have fights like the ones we used to have in our last months together." He nods.

"We won't, I can promise you that, Y/N." He says and you nod. "But I understand, and I... We have so much to talk, I have so much to say to you." He whispers and approaches you. "I love you so much, Y/N." The boy looks at your eyes as he says it. "I love you too, Alex." You hug him as you whisper.

"I promise you, I won't lose you this time, mi vida. I won't lose you ever again." He says into your ear and you smile.

"I know you won't, 'Lex."

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the writing! :)

Requests are open!

#quackity #qsmp #qsmp brazil #quackity imagines #alex quackity #qsmp brasil #quackity x reader #quackity imagine #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackityhq #quackity fluff #quackity fanfic #qsmp quackity #quackity headcannons #quackity scenario

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