#YIPPIE FINALLY DONE!!!!!!!

[evilautismcrusades]

rudy and mayor, the replacements for swatch and queen respectively

[spoopy-arcade]

Bad ending

[eemiejab]

you gotta chill out man...

[happyfoxx-art]

Aftermath Impact 10!!!

Please enjoy ;w; This episode kicked my butt for some reason i can't explain but its finally over and i can keep MOVING

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[meirimerens]

a mask of someone else's gold

commission for @spkyct8 🔑

[ataraxiaspainting]

Hier Encore IV.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

[Hier Encore III.]

Synopsis: Yorknew Police Department Headquarters, 1995, April 10th. You are a director of public safety. The Phantom Troupe attacks the headquarters and takes you under the guise of a hostage situation. Even when the ransom is paid, you are never returned and assumed to be dead. After thirteen months of captivity, in 1996, on May 9th, you escape and try to learn how to live again somewhere far away from your captor. The payment of freedom comes with a steep cost, one that stains your hands so much that even if you drown them in bleach, the stain will remain there for the rest of your life.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectively, not SFW implications, misogynistic undertones (not from Chrollo), unhealthy relationships, manipulation o’clock, body transformation (not on the reader), references to religion, violence/gore, minor character death, and stalking.

Word Count: 5.9k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Lacrimosa by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

4:00 A.M. by Taeko Onuki

My Girlfriend Is a Witch by October Country

Michelle by Sir Chloe

Sonne by Rammstein

Enemy by Imagine Dragons

Venus Fly Trap by MARINA

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

cult leader by KiNG MALA

Teacher’s Pet by Melanie Martinez 

“She looked like a vixen, and that’s what she was; she had all the instincts of a female fox. She was the proverbial predatory female. She had what she wanted, now, and she was content. There was just the getting completely away with it that counted.” – Gil Brewer, Sin for Me

iv. “I must be cruel, only to be kind.”

“Greetings.”

One emotion comes after another on Sebastian's face: confusion, fear, distrust, and many more.

“Hello.” His voice is tight. “Do you need something?” He asks, putting his hands on the doorframe as a precaution.

“I have just come to ask you a few questions.” Chrollo answers, his voice as calm and collected as always. He isn’t even looking at Sebaste, his focus is placed on the inside of the cottage. He knows that you are here.

“Like what?” Sebaste asks, his body tensing up.

“My dear, come out.” He calls out to you, his voice as soft as it usually is.

“I’m sorry?” Sebaste questions, his shoulders strained upwards. “I’m right here.”

Chrollo pays him no mind, instead still looking over Sebastian's shoulder. He hums, looking at one object in the living room at a time. The black sofa by the television was old with the bottom left corner of it torn, white stuffing no longer being covered there in that spot. The carpet below Sebastian’s feet, the colors fading because of age. The creaky poplar floorboards. The pots of plants where the kitchen’s checkered tiles and the living room’s wooden planks meet, where you are hiding. Your eyes meet and his eyes are as empty as ever, perhaps even emptier, like black holes in the ground that aim to swallow you whole.

“Come out, my love.” He repeats himself, his tone sickeningly sweet to the point of mockery.

“Excuse me?” Sebaste asks, his voice slightly cracking.

“Dearest.” His gaze is still on you. It is intense and you feel a pressure on your neck like you are being strangled by him. You can’t breathe.

“I’m here.” Sebaste moves his hands downwards on the doorframe. “I’m right here.” His eyebrows furrow. “I’m right here. Don’t ignore me.” He’s upset.

“Hmm.” He leans in slightly. “She hasn’t told you anything, has she?”

You can see Sebastian's feet through the leaves of the tall plants take a step or two back at Chrollo’s question. “What?”

He still is not making eye contact with Sebaste. “Honestly, I expected that you would have left her by now, or at the very least be on your knees begging for mercy from me. Little liar.” Once more, a gentle hum escapes his lips as he leans in, drawing himself nearer. “But that is alright.”

Sebastian's feet move backward yet again. “What?” He knows. “Hello? What are you talking about?”

Remaining composed, Chrollo gradually advances towards Sebaste. “My dear, aren’t you going to greet me? I missed you.”

As an innate response to his words, your muscles contract, causing your entire body to become rigid.

“Come on out,” Chrollo continues, his smile getting wider. “We haven’t seen each other for more than a year. It feels like a millennia since I saw you last. My heart still beats for you, though, and always will.”

“Leave,” You finally say, your voice almost as shaky as you are. “Go away.”

Sebaste and Chrollo are now both looking at you, but their gazes are different. Chrollo looks at you like a hunter looks at a slain doe or rabbit they are about to eat, while Sebaste looks at you with confusion and fear, for he knows what you are; a liar. “Come closer. Let me see you.”

You shake your head from side to side until your neck cramps and you feel slightly dizzy. “Leave, go away.” You repeat, your voice still shuddering. 

“I would take you more seriously if your voice was not quivering, beloved.”  You can perceive the mocking tone in his voice. “I want to see your beautiful face not covered by the foliage of a dying plant.” His smile is getting bigger and bigger by the second, you swear to yourself. “Come on now.”

Once more, you vigorously shake your head, refusing to comply. “Leave.”

Sebaste continues to call out, desperately trying to catch his attention, but he remains unfazed, humming to himself. Fear is evident in his expression and the urgency of his voice. Concern grips you, for both Sebaste and yourself.

“Come closer, please. Come greet me.”

You squirm behind the tall plant. “No, go away, leave.”

“I won’t.” His smile fades as he looks down at Sebastian's arms still holding onto the doorframe like it was their lifeline. It is actually, you realize.

Sebastian's face contorts into a frown, while he straightens his posture even further, assuming a defensive stance. “If all you are going to do is bother my girlfriend and not talk to me, you have to leave.”

“No.” Sebaste is finally acknowledged by him, but this time his voice lacks warmth, sounding firm and icy. “Step aside.”

The urge to run engulfs you. You want to run into the forest. You want to run until your feet bleed and your ankles are twisted and bruised.

“Why would I do that?” Sebaste hisses angrily. “Leave. All you are doing is being a creep to my girlfriend. Leave or I’ll call the police. Now.”

Chrollo simply leans in closer to Sebastian's ear. “Step aside. Please.”

Sebaste scowls. “Leave. Now.”

Run, run, run. Despite your determination to hold your ground, you start to relent under Chrollo's unrelenting gaze, eventually taking a step forward as instructed. “Ah, that’s better. Good.” As Chrollo's stare intensifies, you find yourself averting your gaze towards the ground, towards your bare feet. “Look at you, my poor thing. You have nothing more to say, don’t you?” He coos like a parent watching their baby take their first steps.

“I’m calling the police.”

Sebaste delves into the depths of his hoodie pocket, where his phone resides, leaving a portion of the doorway unguarded by his arm. The urge to plead with Sebaste, to convey the futility of it all, arises within you. However, you find yourself incapable of doing so. 

In one swift motion, Chrollo grabs the cell phone away from Sebastian’s hand and throws it on the ground, a loud smashing sound reaching your ears. It’s only more pronounced by a boot stomping and crushing it like it was some sort of bug.

“Come closer, dearest.” He says, and your feet move, your mind compliant. You move closer and closer, until you are a few feet behind Sebaste, who looks both fearful and confused.

“Call the police,” Sebaste tells you, the stress in his voice is more than obvious.

You just stare, emptily. There is no point in running over to the kitchen to grab your phone, because Chrollo is quick and thus would run quicker, quicker than you ever could. You, poor you, would fall in vain in the Spider’s hunt for the fly that made it out of the web alive.

“Call the police. [First], call the police.” You would love to appear as a saint, but bright crimson stains your hands and eats at your very being. The floorboards creak and crack beneath you as you walk closer and you hope that the planks will simply break and let you fall into an infinite void where you will never be sentenced for your crimes. 

“My lady of sorrows, as beautiful as ever.”

You should have hidden your tracks better.

“Call the police, [First].” You should have watched out for any targets on your back.

You should have watched out more for the eyes looking at you in the night because you only caught one pair. “Your love is like a warm summer’s day, and it will always be mine, all mine.”

You wanted a normal human life. You wanted a normal human death.

But you are caught in the Spider’s web and encased in silk yet again, so you can’t have either of those things. Now, all that you can have that you want is to cry.

“Call the police.” Sebastian's trembling voice echoes once more, filled with fear. Desperate to find solace, he reaches out for your hand, only to be met with the unexpected rejection of a slap. 

You’re so stupid. So, so stupid. Your brain feels numb like it is rotting away inside of you, slowly but surely.

“Call the police. [First]. Go get your phone and call the police.”

“All I want is to hold you in my arms and know that you are mine.” You hold everything Chrollo has ever said to you inside of you where your heart used to be. It weighs you down more than a broken heart ever would.

“[First]. Call the police. What’s wrong?”

The world is now monochrome once more. You feel the place where warmth used to be within you. But now all there is is ashes. There is nothing but ashes. Your lungs hurt from all the filth.

“Stop it.” Disgusting, you are disgusting, Chrollo is disgusting.

You wanted to see the whole world. But you are now back to being trapped in the spider’s web and you cannot do any of those things now. A butterfly with a hole in its wing caught in its web. 

“What’s wrong? Call the police. Go. Now.” Disgusting. “[First]?” Disgusting. “[First], why aren’t you doing anything?”

“Stop it.” Your voice cracks like how you wanted the floorboards to. “Just stop it.”

“Go get your phone.” Sebaste continues, deaf to what you are trying to tell him. “Go. Now. Go.”

Your head hurts. Your stomach hurts. You want your pajamas on. You want to sleep. You wish you never ran away because now hell will be unleashed on Sebaste and you as punishment. You wish you would have just made a pit stop in this town and continued being on the move. You wish you were more tactical. You wish you had never been born at all. Disgusting. You’re so disgusting and stupid and tired.

You find yourself uttering every part of it, stammering through the words, pausing to catch your breath, pleading for Sebastian's survival, hoping to just return to whatever luxurious penthouse or hotel room Chrollo is currently staying at, imploring to have a private conversation with Chrollo about this matter in his car, away from Sebaste.

As soon as you finish begging for Sebastian's life and open your eyes, you see the book in Chrollo’s hand. With the realization of what is about to happen, tears finally fall from your eyes onto your bare feet. 

The cry that escapes your lips is a unique one, unlike any other. It is choked, desperate, animalistic, raw, and undeniably genuine.

“Don’t! Please! Wait! Chrollo!”

Chrollo looks at you and you immediately shut up.

“What are you doing?” Sebaste asks, stepping away, his entire body shaking. “Answer me. What are you doing?”

Chrollo's gaze turns towards him, bearing a facial expression that ranks among the most dreadful you've ever witnessed.

He doesn’t respond with anything more than a hum and a quick turn of the pages.

You’re too afraid to speak.

You look at the floor and close your eyes again as you continue to cry.

You hate the book. He has never used it on you, but you know what it can do. Perhaps if Chrollo is in a good mood at the moment, Sebaste will merely have a curse placed upon him and he will go out the door with poor, wailing you, his grip on your wrist strong enough to almost break it. 

A foolish thought, you remind yourself.

Chrollo wasn’t known for his mercy, after all.

Sebaste is as good as dead.

Perhaps he is even worse than dead.

He could be tortured. Starved, eaten alive, poisoned, or has all of his bones broken bit by bit.

You are scared to open your eyes. But you are also scared to have them remain closed.

As you look at what is in front of you and ignore the noises around you, you deprive yourself of any mercy.

It is what you deserve.

“[First]?”

“Don’t.”

“[First], what is happening?” Sebaste points to Chrollo with a look of pure fear, his eyes looking like they are about to burst from their sockets. “What is he talking about?”

“I said don’t. Just stop.”

Sebaste stops in his place, his body shaking so much it looks like he is about to fall. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” It is a genuine apology. “But speaking will only make the pain worse for both of us.”

Chrollo hums again and nods at you, still flipping through the pages. Engaging in acts of rebellion will only exacerbate the situation.

The book stops turning and Chrollo points to a page. “I found it.”

His words are barely audible, drowned out by the piercing cries of anguish. Flashing lights; magenta, red, teal, and black.

Sable scales are sprouting from Sebastian's alabaster skin, each one covered in blood and pierced flesh.

His scleras are a shade of light coral. His eyelids are getting smaller and smaller by the second.

His irises get darker, almost to the hue of ink, matching the scales that are all over his body covered in little bits of torn skin. His knees collapse on themselves as you stand still, looking with both disgust and fear. His elbows fold as his arms lessen in length, his hands bonding with his clavicles. 

He is still screaming.

You want to tell him to stop, that there was no point. It’s already too late for either of you.

But you can’t.

You refuse to look at Chrollo, who is no doubt smiling at the horrifying tragedy unfolding in front of you two.

You just look at Sebaste with pitying, guilty eyes.

He does not look at you.

You deserve it, and he deserves to at least have that choice in the matter.

Whatever Chrollo is doing to him, there is no doubt in your mind that you deserve at least twice as bad of a fate.

But you don’t fear death. Not anymore. You know Chrollo does not plan to kill you, that death is not in the cards he is holding. He would never let go of his favorite toy. So, you fear the unknown. You fear whatever harrowing methods Chrollo is going to use on you. There is no doubt that they will be far more psychological than physical.

You sit and stay, like a good dog does, even though every fiber of your being is telling you to run out the back door and into the forest. So, you wait. You wait until he is done. You won’t speak or move unless you are told to. You give up all control and pretend to want to be dragged by a leash instead. You hide your true feelings behind a mask and not overplay your hand. That is how you become a dog.

Good girl.

Chrollo takes out a few Polaroid photographs from his suit pocket and lays them out on the table. One of them is the gore-stained walls of James’ apartment, his lower half the only part that is still whole. The second is Victor’s collapsed, untouched body on the wooden floorboards. The third is of your stalker’s rotting corpse in your abandoned shed, his head lowered and his partially gouged eyes swinging in the cool breeze. You can’t pretend to be better anymore. You can’t hide what you have done anymore. He knows.

You reach for the photos, grabbing them off the table then crumble them into balls, tearing them apart into shreds and watching them fall onto the ground.

Chrollo doesn’t stop you. He simply stares at the torn pieces that lay at your bare feet. He hums. It’s the most horrific sound you have ever heard. It is a mix of hilarity and hunger. When he smiles, his teeth look like a shark's. They are razorlike and look sharp enough to cut flesh, though they appear the same as yours. Although his appearance may deceive others into perceiving him as angelic, you are aware that he is anything but, just like yourself.

He knows. He knows.

Chrollo takes a step forward toward you but stops abruptly. He hums again. He looks upward towards your face and you make eye contact. Your brain starts screaming signals to run.

He knows of the lies that are the foundation of the makeup used to cover your hideous, real face. He knows of your sticky, sticky red hands, stained with crimson sin. He knows of the devil that lurks within the deepest confines of your heart. He knows that no exorcism or priest would be able to get rid of it. He knows that it will stay inside you until your last breath. He knows of the hidden transgressions within your soul, the deeds you committed to survive. The actions you took to elevate yourself above all others and everything else in this world.

He knows everything. He knows what you have done.

The stars twinkle no more. The moon has lost its luster. The night sky has broken apart. You cannot hide your wrongdoings from the scorching beams of the sun. Your skin burns. Everything hurts.

He knows.

He looks down at you like he is a king. Arrogant. Tenacious. He is not even a star to you. He is less than the small pieces of meteorites floating in the vast Milky Way, fading away more and more by the second. This life was too good to be true. You have failed and as a result, you have lost everything. 

You cover your head with your arms and run, tackling Chrollo to the ground. He falls onto the kitchen floor with a hard thump. You punch him, but your knuckle hurts as you do so, Chrollo’s face like an iron wall. You yelp in pain and withdraw your fist, using your other hand to pull out the knife from your sweatpants. You haven’t even made a dent into him, did he even feel anything?

Chrollo's laughter resonates as if he finds your actions incredibly amusing. He proceeds to articulate the harsh reality, a truth that is both unpleasant and acrid. “So, you were the one that committed those murders. As expected.”

No. No. No. No.

As you falter, Chrollo’s hands firmly grab the upper parts of your arms and push you off, the amount of power used being nearly enough to throw you against the glass cupboards of dishware and decorations. Instead, the back of your head collides with the wall next to the wooden back door, the paring knife flying out of your hand and landing a few inches away. A pained cry escapes your lips as your vision blurs for a second. He’s on top of you in an instant, his eyes dark and predatory, and your positions suddenly reversed. 

The blade, you have to get it back.

As you try to reach out for it, Chrollo grabs your wrist with an abnormal amount of strength. “I wouldn’t pick that up if I were you. It would only prove a point for me.”

Run. Run. Run. You have to run, like a small child running up the stairs when the lights are off, fearing what could be lurking in the dark. 

Life. Death. Free. Cage. Run. 

No, this can’t be happening, this is just a bad dream.

“Struggle all you like, we both know how this will end.”

“Shut up. I’m not going anywhere–”

“You are. You will stay wherever I place you because I am not falling for your tricks a second time, my little witch.”

No. This is just a bad dream. You close your eyes and try to wake up, shaking your head and begging for Chrollo to be just a figment of your imagination. You try and try, but you can still feel the crushing feeling of Chrollo’s grip on your bruised wrist and the weight of his body on top of yours. This is real, and this is happening.

Your mind goes blank as you open your eyes, your body being directed by raw, pure fear. Your forehead crashes into Chrollo’s, making him back up a few centimeters and let go of your wrist. Your torso crawls toward the blade like an animal whose legs are caught under a boulder or a bear trap. Your elbows bend and you try to move forward. You are just about to grab the knife when there is a yanking of your hair backward. You holler out as your spine is twisted peculiarly, your upper body facing downwards towards the knife while your lower body is facing upwards towards Chrollo. 

“Let go!”

“You certainly are stubborn.”

Your fist smacks him square in the jaw and he lets go. Your hand grips the knife, and you start swinging it around, blinded by emotion. You manage to cut into his right cheek as he spits out some blood from your punch. You try to gouge out one of his eyes, but his dexterity causes his head to duck just in time. Your body shakes with a mix of alarm and hate. You try to aim for the space between his eyes, but he grabs your wrist with one hand and your tricep with the other and starts twisting them in two different directions, making you wail. There is a sudden snap that is louder than your cries. You scream as you drop the knife and caress your broken arm. Chrollo grabs the blade and throws it far across the room. 

Chrollo’s body seems to relax a little, so you kick him in the face and try to clamber away from him. His nose bleeds, but it does not look broken. You are as desperate as a doe trying to escape the bullets of a hunter’s shotgun. 

Run. Run. Run. 

“You’re not being good. You’re not being good at all.”

Run. Run.

With the last bits of strength you have, you withstand the agonizing pain in your arm and kick Chrollo in the stomach with both of your legs, so hard that even you wince. He backs up as he chokes on his saliva. Some of the blood from his nose jumps onto your face and you can taste the flavor of metal. He falls backward and hugs his abdomen. He is off of you at long last. For the quick moment he is in pain, you stand up quickly, clutching your unusable limb. You run as fast as you can towards the paring knife. You bend down and grab it in a rush of panic. 

Run, rabbit. Run.

Chrollo pushes you down onto your stomach, your back facing him. He grabs your broken arm and pulls it, his foot on your spine to keep you there. It bends like rubber or bubblegum. You start to flail around like a fish out of water. You gasp for air as you cry out in pain. His other hand grabs the back of your head, raising it slightly before pushing it down hard onto the wooden planks. The life you have built for yourself, everything you have worked towards, the colorful, sweet world you have made, all shatters into splinters before your very eyes.

Picking pumpkins and apples to make decorations and cook into pies, harvesting sunflowers to put into glass vases around your cottage, going into the farmer’s market and smelling freshly roasted corn and baked goods, cookies, fried mushrooms, glazed yams, eggplant parmesan, learning to love someone for the first time.

It was all for nothing. It was all for nothing because Chrollo found you. Chrollo found you and enacted his revenge. You wail a strangled, desperate breath. A raw and real breath. 

You stop struggling at long last, like a toy that has run out of power from its battery. All that fighting and you have hardly made him use his true strength.

You are weak. You cannot go anywhere. You are a rabbit with nowhere to run. Murder. Death. Theft. Crime. Manipulation. Love. Chrollo’s blood is still in your mouth and it’s bitter and dry, like you had just eaten sand in a desert or oceanless beach. It chokes you, both physically and mentally.

No.

The fish that used to be Sebaste looks up at the ceiling, lying on its side. An unblinking, wide eye. Dull. Cloudy. Empty. Unforgiving. Confused. Weak. Its corpse lays before you two and starts to stink like the back of a butcher’s shop. 

I hate you.

That is what its eye tells you.

Traitor. Fool. Devil. Maneater. Tainted. Killer. Freak.

This is all your fault. Why did I have to die? Why are you still alive? You lied to me. You said you loved me. Liar. 

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Pathetic.

Your feet are still cold.

If only you could have died too. If only you could have died beside him. You don’t want to die in whatever hotel room or penthouse Chrollo will shove you in, within four suffocating walls and soft sheets that cost more than your monthly rent. You don’t want to die there, you want to die anywhere else. You are not ready to die. Tunnel vision overtakes you, with only one objective in mind.

Just stay alive.

Just stay alive.

That is your one wish to the stars above.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

You are being burned alive by your desire to both live and die.

...

You don’t think before you do it.

You don’t try to stop yourself before, without any hesitation, your legs propel you forward, forcefully thrusting the backdoor open with your functioning arm. Anguish, fury, remorse, and sorrow engage in a fierce battle for dominance over your every move. As you dart deeper into the dark and densely packed forest behind your cottage, the only sounds you could hear are your own ragged breaths and pounding heart. It was as if the forest was trying to swallow you up, closing in with every passing step. No moonlight or stars pierced the thick layers of leaves and branches overhead.

The darkness is like a thick fog, blurring your sight and limiting your visibility. You could not see Chrollo behind you, but your instincts told you that he was. There was no hint of a breeze to take some of the edge off, with even the birds and chipmunks being completely silent.

The pain was excruciating. With every jostling step, your broken arm jolted around like a wooden toy, threatening to send you down to the ground any second as it kept getting caught in vines and hitting tree trunks. You could not afford to stop running.

You don’t see anyone following you.

Your feet are starting to bleed and leave a few red drops of blood with every rushed step you take. You don’t care about it because instinct has taken over your mind.

You trip over a large root on the ground and fall sideways right on your broken arm, making you scream from the intense pain shooting up. As you try to get up and caress your broken arm, you stumble downhill into a pile of dead leaves. 

Your mouth is full of them, making you hardly able to breathe as you spit them out. 

If it were any other time, you would have considered it funny.

But not now.

As you rise from the ground, your hand instinctively shields your mouth, preventing any inadvertent sound that may invite unwanted attention. The pursuit of Chrollo, if not already initiated, has undoubtedly commenced.

He’s after you. You know this. He came back into your newly rebuilt life and destroyed it right in front of your very eyes. 

You know he can hear you, but you cannot hear him. You never know of his presence until he is too close, that is how it always has been. That is how it is now. Chrollo has forever possessed superior speed, strength, intelligence, attractiveness, and wealth, making it impossible for anyone to ever match his prowess, even if they desired to do so.

You hate him.

You hate him, and he’s here for you again.

No.

How did he even find you?

Hisoka promised.

He promised you that your location would be undiscovered.

He lied to you, didn’t he?

Maybe lying isn’t the exact word.

Maybe he technically did keep his promise, because the Troupe didn’t show up in a matter of a few hours.

Chrollo showed up in a matter of nearly twenty four.

Your gasps for air and silenced cries are paired with a call of your name.

“Oh, you poor thing. Scared half to death.”

His words are as soft as they are cruel.

“Mater Dolorosa.”

You force yourself onto your feet again to run, sensing the voice behind you up the hill getting louder and louder. But when you move to run, you wince in pain and look down at your swollen red ankle.

It is so dark that you can’t see anything aside from yourself, the world around you being painted monochrome by the black night sky’s palette. 

There is nowhere to run, is there?

You have used up all of your luck getting this far, and have to pay the price.

You are out of time. You cannot dream of sweet escape anymore.

“Do you remember my touch? I touched you so sweetly. My darling girl.”

You would turn if you could, but the pain shooting out from your ankle prevents you doing so and almost makes you fall into the leaves again instead. “You took me away.” 

Moving in a circular motion, Chrollo gradually positions himself in your line of sight, his imposing figure standing tall before you. “It is a thief’s nature. I could not resist the temptation to steal you.”

Chrollo is a prime illustration of the extreme measures some individuals are willing to take in order to have you in their embrace. 

Your beauty has captivated every person you have encountered, evoking reverence from all. It is both a blessing and a curse, a double edged sword, both the thing that worships you and tortures you. 

Your sweatpants are covered in dirt stains and pieces of dried grass and leaves, your hoodie in a similarly horrible condition. Your hair had come undone, cascading in delicate wisps that obscured your vision, reminiscent of a spider's delicate web. There is nowhere to hide.

“Oh, how I love you.” Chrollo smiles and the way it reaches his eyes makes you squirm more. “Shall I enumerate the reasons why?”

…

The car ride was silent for a while. You would have preferred it if it stayed that way. But Chrollo could never stay quiet for long, even if you asked nicely, so he turned the dial of the radio and began humming along. In all the months you were with him, the only constant presence in your otherwise bleak, depressing life. 

The song he chose felt like yet another kick to the stomach. ABBA’s Lay All Your Love On Me. Of course he would play that.

As much as you hate doing so, you focus on the way your heart beats with each turn and bump along the road. He was calm, still so calm, even after this two year long escape. You are certain that this is the calm before the storm, and it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down on you. More than what already had fallen. 

To claim that you were on edge would be an understatement. 

“Do you know what will happen now?”

With your heart pounding and mind consumed, you can't help but startle at his words, despite your readiness.

“...No.”

He lets out a small laugh, reducing the music's volume to a slightly muffled level.

It only makes you feel like you are about to go into cardiac arrest.

“You do, don’t you? You have always been a smart one.”

Your broken arm aches under the slight pressure of the seatbelt pressing against it, your ankle being only slightly cushioned by the insulated carpet beneath.

Chrollo has never hurt you before, aside from restraining you in the early days of your capture. Though, you know if you had blamed your ankle on him and told him, he would tell you it was your fault for running barefoot in the dark.

He hopefully will give you a brace or pillow for it when you both arrive back to wherever your temporary location is.

“My freedoms will be taken away.”

As he nods, a smile plays at the corners of his mouth, revealing a slightly sinister undertone that would easily deceive any unfamiliar observer.

“That is a start. But,” Pausing momentarily, he directs his gaze towards you, only to swiftly return his attention to the path that lies ahead. “What particularly? Give me an example, please.”

He is definitely planning something. Maybe you'll inquire about the source of his inquiry, or perhaps you'll force a trembling grin and pretend his question is nonsensical, aware that he's already aware of the freedoms you've gained during your time in confinement. Yet, he would persist then, and repeat his query. You could respond by acknowledging his authority to strip away any privilege he deems appropriate, a fact that both of you know to be true, but deep down, you understand that he desires a real, logical answer.

Whether this is a genuine question or something that will be used to mock you in a moment or two, you have no idea.

“A freedom like…” Your answer will probably be spawned into existence, making you wary of how to respond to his question, but you know you have to because you have no choice in this hell. “Like being able to move freely around.”

He only taps his fingers on the steering wheel in a melody unlike the one playing from the car’s speakers. “How so?” Welcome once again to the realm of eternal damnation.

You contemplate turning away from him and looking out the window instead. But that would cause you more physical pain from your arm moving against the car seat and more mental pain from you knowing you will not be able to go outside again for at least a while. That is, if you are ever allowed to go outside again. If you can ever escape again. He wants another answer. He is not satisfied. But, then again, when is he ever?

You don’t dare look away from him as he stares at you, not at the road, at you. You practically feel like your stomach is dropping out of your body and onto the insulated carpet, staining parts of it crimson red from the blood and a discolored version of its once licorice color from the stomach acid. 

“Go on,” You could imagine the feeling of his fingers and yours intertwining and starting to squeeze your throat. 

Thum, thum, thum. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun.

“...Restraints.” You wish you could just dissolve like seafoam in the sea. “I’m not sure which ones you want to use. The metal ones or silk ones most likely.” The sensation of suffocation creeps in, as if the air itself has turned putrid and malevolent, weighing heavily on your chest. Your vocal cords are raspy, resembling the aftermath of regurgitating and subjecting them to the corrosive effects of gastric acid. “Maybe gag me or tie my legs together too. Or both, it depends on if you are in a good mood right now or not, right?”

He nods slowly, never taking his eyes off of you. His gaze feels unsettling, for there is no trace of anger in his eyes, yet you can sense his fury.

“That is one, yes. What else do you think will happen when we get back, my dear?”

The road is empty. There are no deer or geese or ducks crossing, only you and Chrollo. Animals have always had better judgment of human character, after all.

You hope that the place you are going to at least has a nice view.

“Tell me.”

[spidorc]

Into the Library of Citadel - New RPGMAKER game!

Hi everyone! Just made a new game with some friends, it's a game about uncovering the secrets of an ancient library with randomized floors! We worked really hard on it, so we hope you guys check it out!

We have:

10 Total Floors

70+ Unique Maps

3 Different Teams to Play

50+ Unique Lore Books

3+ Hours of Gameplay

Unique and Fun Artstyle

Heres the link! Have fun!

[mezuni-and-willow]

First/ previous /X / Next

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

hold me like a bouquet (T)

(or: crowley and aziraphale, as told by history’s flowers.)

10.5k words, rated T, and warnings for blood, jesus’ crucifixion, and implied/referenced violence + character death + war. betaed by queerasinfuckyou and andromeda4004 on ao3

@kovvskii, this is for you. i was your gifter for the @gospexchange event!!!! i screwed with this for a very long time, and i hope you like the finishing product. this event was so so so so much fun and i already have ideas if we’re gonna do it again….not much more to say beyond this, im just very tired and very proud of it. do with it as you please ! and as for everyone else, i hope you like it too <3 happy reading!!

(taglist under the cut)

@fearandhatred i promised i would tag you so i Am. also @frappe-the-peppermint and @deerpines my wonderful converters . hi . thats it

[articus-icecream]

Bilingual

[zellink]

all the bells say - chapter 9: She Attends, Blind

a pre-calamity zelink longfic. [M-rated // chapter 9 of 28 // Act 1 of 5] Final chapter of Act 1!

>>Read chapter on AO3 or start from the beginning >>here

Chapter excerpt:

“It’s been a long day.” “It has, hasn’t it?” Urbosa muses. After a while, she asks, “How have you been since we met at the castle, really?” Everything flashes before her eyes—Rito Village. A dream of a touch, a soft voice. Prayers that remain unanswered, again and again and again. The swell of strings on stage, a song that sings of the end of times. The scorching heat of Death Mountain, the burn in her throat and the heat upon her skin. His perilous gaze, blue, blue, blue. The finished portrait—his gaze once again. The breakaway among broken pillars, in front of a dormant shrine. They all claw at the insides of her throat, begging to be spilled free. But there’s an ounce of resistance in her left, even after all this time, so she bites them down. Keeps them in, where they have always belonged, for letting them out certainly means making a mess, and such a mess can only slow her down.

>>Read chapter on AO3

[mirrortouchedsea]

(CW for Suicidal Ideation)

Hinata’s breath was heavy as he landed the final move of their act. The tinny music playing from their speakers went quiet and the audience clapped politely. It was always the same song and dance as the crowd moved on with their day. A few of them tossed some yen their way but otherwise it was time for them to regroup for their next performance. Yuta knelt down by the hat with some coins and bills sticking out of it, counting their earnings thus far. 

“Hey aniki! We might be able to eat well tonight! There’s like 3,000 yen in here!” Yuta exclaimed. The idea of a filling dinner made Hinata’s mouth water. Oh what he wouldn’t do for even warm noodles not from a cup. 

Hinata turned to grab the iPod from its place on the speaker, choosing the next song to play. He put the phone back and turned the volume up a little more to play over the evening rush. The music started and he and Yuta moved in unison around their little stage, taking in the crowd. There were some regulars that Hinata recognized, the businesswoman who was perpetually tired but always stopped for their performances and a few kids who looked up at them in awe as their parents were trying to usher them away. There were always new faces too, of course people traveled across the country all the time or took new trains or moved cities, but there was something different about the boy with the bright red hair at the back of the crowd. His sky blue eyes pierced straight through to Hinata’s heart and made him stumble when their gaze connected with his own. 

“Hey, aniki focus! We’re almost done, don't fail on me now!” Yuta whispered, carefully shielding Hinata from the crowd as he regained his footing. Yuta was always so quick thinking. Hinata got back to his position and finished up the routine, eyes looking for that boy he had spotted earlier. He half hoped the boy would come talk to them afterwards while they were packing up for the evening, but when he finally saw that shock of red hair, it was moving away with the rest of the crowd. 

Hinata sighed, disappointed. Maybe that boy would come back someday. There was something about him that drew Hinata in. 

Someone bumped his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts. “Hey, aniki, are you alright? You seem out of it today.” Yuta’s hand rested on his shoulder and Hinata couldn’t help but smile. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around, the older brother checking in on the younger one? 

“Hey hey everything’s fine Yuta-kun, don’t worry about me. I was just thinking about that delicious dinner you’re treating us too~” He playfully pushed back on Yuta, the red haired blue eyed boy all but forgotten now. 

“Hey! It’s technically our money so I’m not treating you to anything!” Yuta scowled but the smile in his voice was obvious to Hinata. 

“Hehe, then dinner’s on me! Say ‘thank you aniki!’” 

--- 

It was a week before Hinata saw the red headed boy in their audience again. He had all but slipped his mind, but those striking blue eyes were impossible to forget. Yuta was introducing their next performance which allowed Hinata to take a better look at the older boy who had made his way to the middle of the audience. He was tall and what Hinata could see of his outfit seemed ill-fitting at best, along with a headband holding his hair away from his eyes. 

Hinata scrambled to his position as the music queued up and let his instincts take over. Every so often he found himself glancing at the red haired boy, trying to see what he thought of their performance, but his face revealed nothing. 

Why was he so focused on this one boy? It’s not like they didn’t have strangers who watched them sometimes, and none of them had caught Hinata’s attention quite like this boy. He really couldn’t be much older than Hinata, maybe 17 at the oldest. Was he an older brother too? The boy’s eyes made contact with Hinata’s and it took everything in him to not look away. 

Once again however, Yuta snapped him out of whatever trance he had been in and everything was forgotten. 

“Are you really okay aniki? You’ve been out of it a lot recently…” Oh how it pained Hinata to see the concern on Yuta’s face. Nothing was even really wrong per se, but Hinata was distracted nonetheless. 

“I’m fine, Yuta-kun. Geez, can’t your older brother have some peace?” His mouth ran faster than his brain and he immediately regretted it. Yuta’s face flipped through several emotions; hurt, confusion, exhaustion. It wasn’t like him to hide things from his brother, so why was he doing it now? “Whatever, let’s get some dinner. My treat~” 

“It’s our money!” 

--- 

The boy continued to make appearances at the twins’ performances on the street, becoming something of a regular but disappearing before Hinata could flag him down. Hinata wasn’t even sure what compelled him to want to talk to the older boy, but he wanted to say something. He had even noticed that the boy seemed happier and his clothes fit a little better, not like they were just the first thing he grabbed out of a donation pile. 

Finally, after almost a month of trying to say something to the boy, Hinata saw him walk up to their hat on the ground and drop a few coins into it. 

“Thank you!” He said, walking up to the boy. “Hope you enjoyed the performance!” 

The boy froze as if he wasn’t expecting to be greeted like that. There was a slight flush to his face. “I-it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. You uh…you were great?” The boy seemed unsure of how to reply, though Hinata was happy with the compliment nonetheless. Maybe… 

“What brings you here? I mean--agh, sorry! I just mean…I noticed you don’t have a regular schedule?” The words were practically falling out of his mouth and Hinata wasn’t really sure what they were doing. “Like you show up a few days in a row but then go three weeks without stopping by at all!” He was just digging a bigger grave for himself! Great! 

“Ah uhm…I’m not from around here.” The boy scratched at the back of his neck. Maybe Hinata should back off. 

“O-oh, yeah of course. Duh. Are you visiting family or something?” 

“Not quite. I really should get going though. See you…later?” 

“Yeah, see you later.” 

“Hey Aniki, are you coming or not? The food’s gonna get cold!” 

“Coming!” 

---

It was almost a month before the boy appeared again. In the time between, Hinata had come up with a million different ideas for what his life was like. Was he a delinquent who skipped school to hang out on the street with gangs (how scary! But he looked strong enough to fit in)? Or was he a runaway from a city far away, somewhere Hinata only dreamed of visiting like Okinawa? Maybe he had a bad relationship with his dad and ran away, a thought that Hinata hated to admit had crossed his mind more than once. Or maybe he just passed through the city on the way to somewhere else. That seemed to be the most likely option, especially if he couldn’t come very often. 

When the boy did finally show up again, Hinata had to hold himself back from practically jumping him after the performance. Something looked…different about him though. His eyes seemed more tired? Like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Hinata thought of a fight he had with his dad a few weeks ago that made it hard for him to sleep and thought maybe this boy was the same as him in that regard. 

Hinata decided to wave him down after the performance, hat in hand (they had done pretty well! It felt heavier than normal and even without counting everything, they’d probably have enough for breakfast too). 

“Hey! You look tired, are you--did you want to get something to eat?” Please say yes please say yes please say yes--

The boy’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Did Hinata mess up? Oh he overstepped and now there really wasn’t any chance of getting to know him. Why was he so interested in talking to the boy anyway? Hinata had been asking himself that for a while now and he still had no answer. 

“I…I can’t. I need to go.” The boy turned and ran off before Hinata could ask more. He just kept messing up, didn’t he? Maybe he really was just a burden to Yuta and their dad and the restaurant owner. He shouldn’t have been born and Yuta would’ve been better off--

“Aniki! Sheesh, get your head out of the clouds. How much did we make?” Yuta grabbed the hat out of Hinata’s hand and quickly counted out the coins and bills. “Woah! We could eat a whole five course meal with this…” 

“Think with your head a little Yuta-kun. We’ve got breakfast paid for if we don’t blow it all tonight!” 

Yuta nodded before handing the hat back to Hinata. “So, my pick tonight?” 

--- 

Hinata signed the note, trying his best to keep the tears from dripping on it and smudging the ink. After his blunder with the red haired boy, he hadn’t shown up to their performances for over two months. Hinata was certain that he had messed up and was too forward. He didn’t even know the kid’s name! Why did he think the two of them could ever be friends? 

And on top of all of that, Yuta had become more and more distant from Hinata, as if Hinata just existing was dragging him back from his full potential. Yuta would have been better off as an only child and maybe Hinata deserved this life. Thirteen years living with their father, who had treated them as nothing but monsters, blaming them for their mother’s death and everything bad that had happened since, Hinata had resolved to run away. He’d make his way to the mountains and maybe he’d find someone willing to help him or maybe he’d slip into an endless sleep. 

Dear Yuta-kun, the letter had started. I’m sorry that I’m leaving like this, but I know that I’m just a burden to you. I’m sorry for that. I wish I had more to say but I just want you to be happy and maybe father will treat you better without me. I love you. 

The other letter, already folded and placed on the table, was much shorter, addressed to his father. 

Dear Father, I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better son. Please don’t take this out on Yuta-kun, it was my decision. 

The less words he spent on that man, the better. Hinata folded Yuta’s note and placed it on top before quietly exiting through the front door. 

---

Everything was cold. Hinata slumped against a tree, head between his knees in a last ditch effort to keep warm. Sleep should come soon and he could painlessly move on, at least that’s what he hoped. He barely registered someone approaching him, but didn’t look up. 

“Hey.” The voice was vaguely familiar, but where did he remember it from? A warm hand shook at Hinata’s shoulder. 

“‘M fine.” The words were barely a whisper. The other voice grunted before walking away. It was another minute before Hinata felt something drape around his shoulders and a cup shoved in his hand. Whatever was in it was steaming, warming his fingers. 

“Drink.” The voice said. And he did, the tea was very, very bitter. That voice… 

Hinata looked up, meeting a pair of bright, sky blue eyes. That’s where he recognized the voice from. Did he…live? In the mountains? The boy seemed to recognize him too. He was wearing a headband and what looked like very warm clothes that Hinata wished he had. Hinata finished the tea, trying not to focus on the flavor. It helped at least, in warming him up a bit. 

“Why are you here?” The boy finally spoke again. It sounded like he was unsure if he should be mad or concerned, or both, but he offered Hinata another cup of tea, which he accepted if only to warm his fingers up. He pulled the blanket closer around his body. 

“I…ran away.” Hinata looked downward, as if admitting this out loud was a cardinal sin. The boy gestured for him to continue. “I guess I just…I was dragging my brother down. I’m not really talented at anything like he is and I’m the reason our dad sees us as monsters. He shouldn’t have to deal with a brother like me.” Hinata wasn’t really sure why he was spilling this so easily. The boy was a good listener though, hanging on every word Hinata spoke. Was he shaking? He’d never admitted this out loud before and it felt oddly freeing to say it to someone. 

He waited for a response, anything to chase away the uncomfortable silence Hinata had created with his confession. He really fucked up, didn’t he. He should have just kept that to himself like he always did instead of burdening a stranger like this! 

“I…” The boy started, barely audible above Hinata’s racing heartbeat. “I’m glad you’re alive.” He sounded unsure of his words. Was he just trying to be nice? Of course he was, how else do you respond to a kid telling you something like this? 

“You don’t have to pretend.” 

“I’m not. When I saw you singing and dancing…I think I realized something--” The boy cut himself off, the suddenness of it making Hinata look up. A moment later he heard his brother calling out from the woods behind him. 

“Aniki! There you are!” Yuta tackled him to the ground, squeezing Hinata like he might just blow away in the wind if they weren’t careful. “You scared me! I can’t believe you’d do something like that!” 

Tears pricked at Hinata’s eyes again. “I’m sorry, Yuta-kun. I’m really sorry.” He buried his face in Yuta’s jacket. His nose started to run, from the cold or the tears he couldn’t tell. 

“You aren’t a burden to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you around Aniki!” Yuta pulled back, hands gripping Hinata’s shoulders. “Promise you won’t do something that stupid again.” 

Hinata wiped the tears from his eyes, sparing a glance where the boy had been. It was as if he had never been there at all and Hinata had just hallucinated the whole interaction. He looked back at his twin brother. “I promise.” 

“Now let's get you home and warmed up. Where’d you get this blanket anyway? It doesn’t look like one of ours.” 

“I…” The boy had been real, and he told Hinata he was glad he was alive (even if his explanation was cut short by Hinata’s brother rushing in). “I guess I just found it. There must be people living nearby or something.” 

--- 

The chatter of the night club died down for the night as everyone was getting ready to go home. Hinata’s feet were sore from running around, but it was satisfying to be back in a restaurant like this. It reminded him of his childhood working for the Chinese restaurant with Yuta. 

Rinne, the leader of Crazy:B who had wanted to get closer to Hinata, and by extension 2wink, slid a drink down the bar. It looked like a horrible mix of syrups and club soda, but one sip was all it took for Hinata to drink it all down. 

“Great job tonight Hina! You’re a real natural at this stuff.” Rinne was washing the other glasses behind the bar now as Hinata finished the rest of his soda. 

“Yuta-kun and I used to work in a restaurant so it comes pretty naturally to us!” 

“That so?” 

“Mhm!” Hinata slid the empty glass back to Rinne, who quickly dumped the ice and washed it before tossing the towel over his shoulder. The entire week they’d been working the club together, there had been something bugging Hinata at the back of his mind. “Hey, Rinne-senpai…did you ever watch our shows?” 

“Huh? ‘Course I have, vice prez wants us to work together so I’ve seen a few of ‘em.” 

“That’s not what I mean. I mean like…back when Yuta-kun and I did street performances.” 

Rinne paused for a moment. “Why’re you askin’?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing. You just reminded me of someone who used to watch them.” 

“Well I’m sure whoever it was is proud to see you singin’ and dancin’ on stage.” Rinne had come around the bar and stood next to Hinata, ruffling his hair. “Let’s get goin’ or I’m never gonna hear the end of it from Niki-kun.” 

[maochira]

I soldi possono comprare tutto, eccetto il tuo amore (Don Lorenzo x reader)

"Money can buy anything, except for your love" - word count: 4k

Synopsis: “Money can buy anything in the world” doesn’t apply anymore when it comes to winning your love. And thats when Lorenzo needs to figure out how he can truly win your heart.

Tags: gn!reader x hopeless romantic!Lorenzo, this is before Blue Lock, dad Snuffy giving advice to Lorenzo, inspired by Wo kann man das kaufen ("Where can you buy that") by Alligatoah, thanks to @echarie for translating the title to Italian!!

"Another gift?" You raise an eyebrow as you stare right back at Lorenzo. A part of you is surprised, another part is slightly annoyed. "That's the fifth this week. It's Wednesday."

"Well, you deserve it!" Lorenzo grins and forces the small box into your hands, expecting you to open it right away.

"For what? I haven't done anything special this week." You try to return the box to him, but Lorenzo refuses to take it and hides his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"You did great in last week's match." He leans against the nearby wall but continues looking at you.

"That was days ago and I don't think the one goal I scored deserves five presents." You once again try to return the box to Lorenzo, but his hands are kept in his pockets.

"But I think so." The smirk on his face still doesn't disappear. "Anyways, are you up for a date on Friday evening?"

Almost every conversation with him goes like this. He hands you a present and then asks you out on a date. Lorenzo always hopes the amount of presents he gives to you is going to help make you fall in love with him. At first, you truly appreciated the gifts, but by now they seem... unnecessary. Back when he only gave you a present every now and then you felt special, but since he started giving them to you daily, they lost the special feeling.

And at this point, it's getting frustrating. Lorenzo seems to be under the impression that he can win your love with money and presents. And even though you're well aware of the fact that he's had a crush on you for a while, he never genuinely shows his feelings. You're actually doubting him by now.

Because he won't take the present into his hands, you decide to just set it down on the floor right before his feet. "I think I'm gonna have to say no to that date."

Lorenzo's grin quickly turns into a frown, but he's trying to keep the confidence in his voice. "Again?" He takes a step away from the wall, now leaning towards you again. "How many more presents do I have to give you until you say yes?"

You look him right into his eyes with the most serious expression you can put on right now. "Not a single one."

"Then why-" Lorenzo starts but quickly gets interrupted by you.

"I wasn't done talking." You take a deep breath before continuing. "I don't want any more presents from you. Not a single one. You can't buy my love like this. Do you get that?"

Lorenzo's frown now turns into a confused expression. "Huh? I thought you liked my presents?"

"I used to like them. But now..." You turn your head slightly to the side and let out a sigh. "I feel as if your money is the only thing you're using to get my love. I don't want that."

Lorenzo crosses his arms in front of his chest and tries to come up with a response. You can see in his eyes how puzzled he currently is and if you weren't so serious right now, it would have probably made you laugh.

"But that's my way of showing I love you."

"And it's not the way of getting me to give you a chance."

"...Fine." Lorenzo sighs in defeat. "So, what do I have to do to win your heart, eh?"

"No presents, no talk about money, just..." You start but quickly stop talking again. It takes you a moment to figure out what you truly want from him. "I want to know who you are. And I mean who you are without your money in the foreground. Let me get to know you properly. Because all I ever hear you talking about is money and how it runs the world and... all that you always talk about. I barely have an idea of who you really are."

Only a few seconds after you finish speaking Lorenzo's grin has returned and he leans a little closer towards you. That's something you're used to, but this time he gets a bit closer than usual. Close enough to let you feel his breath on your face, but he doesn't give the impression of getting any closer for something like a kiss.

"All I understand is you're willing to go on a date with me if I don't talk about money?"

You can't help but chuckle at his response. It's exactly what you expected from him. "If you can really do that, I'm willing to give you a chance."

Lorenzo wants to put on a genuine smile, but he tries to hide it with the grin he's been keeping on his lips the entire time. You can hear the genuine happiness in his voice, though. "Perfect! Friday evening it is? Or would you prefer another day?"

"Friday evening works just fine for me."

And with this confirmed, Lorenzo later texted you the details of where the date would be and when he'd pick you up. He chose a restaurant that wasn't super fancy, but not too cheap either. You can tell he intentionally picked a place that doesn't scream "I have lots of money to spend there."

Well, in reality, Lorenzo had no idea what to choose. He asked his teammates for advice and recommendations because if it was up to him, he would have chosen the fanciest restaurant in the area so he could spoil you as much as possible. But since you insisted on leaving the topic of money aside for a bit, he had to find other options. Luckily his teammates were happy to help him out with that. After all, they've been watching him hopelessly crushing on you for months at this point.

The more time passes by and the closer the date gets, Lorenzo realizes he genuinely doesn't know how to win your heart other than the method he tried so far with all the gift-giving. What is he supposed to talk about? He doesn't feel like there's much to him as a person. Sure, he could tell you about his past if he wants to get more personal, but finding out about the wrong things he used to do would probably turn you away from him. Also, that would only go back to talking about money since he did all those things because of money back then.

And the more he tries to come up with things to tell you about himself, the more he realizes all of them lead back to anything related to money. On the day when the date happens, he decides he'll just let you talk about yourself and will try to squeeze in things about himself if he can. He knows you're the one who wants to get to know him closer, but he wants to find out more about you as well.

In the meantime, you've been wondering how this date will go. Will Lorenzo really stick to what he said and shut up about money for a while? Or will he fail at that? Did he maybe lie about that to make you agree to go on a date?

Well, those are questions to which you'll find out the answers pretty soon. They just keep running through your head over and over while you're waiting in front of your house for Lorenzo to pick you up. He's already five minutes late but you think it might just be the traffic that makes him delayed. After all, Lorenzo lives on the opposite side of the city and it takes a bit to get to your place.

What's actually going on is that Lorenzo suddenly got very anxious right before he wanted to start driving. He never felt like this about a person or a date before, so why is he suddenly unable to think straight? Didn't he already overthink the date enough for the past two days?

"Didn't you want to leave twenty minutes ago?" Snuffy asks when he spots Lorenzo hesitating to leave the house. He's been nervously walking back and forth in the hallway and still hasn't found the confidence to go outside.

"Twenty minutes already?" Lorenzo comes to a stop and looks at Snuffy. "It's really been twenty minutes?"

"Twenty-one now." Snuffy jokes but quickly goes back to being serious. "You seem nervous. Why? You've already been on dates before but I've never seen you like this."

"Because I've never been so serious about someone until now!" It bursts out of Lorenzo, but he quickly apologizes for getting only louder than he intended to. "Ah, sorry... It's just-"

"You're in love and don't want to get your final rejection, hm?" Snuffy puts his hand on Lorenzo's shoulder in a reassuring manner. "That's what you're worried about, aren't you?"

Lorenzo is a little embarrassed to admit it, but Snuffy is completely right. "(Y/N) doesn't want me to talk about anything related to money tonight. What am I supposed to talk about then?"

"Why are you trying to plan what you'll talk about before you're even there? You'll see how the conversation goes. Don't stress yourself over it now."

Snuffy's words hit Lorenzo immediately. He's right. Lorenzo has been breaking his mind over what he can tell you this entire time instead of waiting until he's actually talking to you. Well, he already planned to let you talk about yourself first anyways, but he still needed Snuffy's advice to reassure him.

"Hm... You're right. Thanks." Lorenzo turns to the door. "I think I'll be going now."

"Drive safely, alright?" Snuffy gives Lorenzo one last pat on the shoulder before letting him go outside. He's sure that this will go well for Lorenzo, especially now that he's feeling more confident again.

Lorenzo arrives around twenty-five minutes later than he originally told you. For a bit, you were starting to doubt he'd pick you up but kept reminding yourself that he was trying to get you on a date for so long, there's no way he'd just leave you standing like this. But still, when he pulls his car into your driveway you're relieved for him to finally be here.

While you're walking towards his car, Lorenzo quickly gets out so he can open the door to the passenger seat for you.

"Aren't you a little late?" You ask in a slightly teasing tone before getting into the car.

"Maybe..." Lorenzo gets in the driver's seat again and starts the car. "Sorry, something just got in my way. But now let's enjoy the evening, okay?"

For a moment he debates with himself if he should tell you the truth about why he was late, but quickly decides against it. Saying "I'm late because I got very anxious over not knowing how to talk about myself if it's not related to money" just doesn't sound good.

The next few minutes neither of the two of you talk and it's slightly awkward, so Lorenzo soon breaks that silence. "Do you want to put on any music? Come on, show me what you like."

"I don't really think it's the type of music you'd like, to be honest-"

"I don't care." Lorenzo stops at a red light and quickly unlocks his phone before handing it to you. "Put on whatever you like."

"Okay, thanks." You give him a soft smile, which quickly causes Lorenzo to blush, then put on some of your favourite songs. You also get a quick glimpse at Lorenzo's Spotify playlists and curiosity gets the better of you, so you end up scrolling through his liked songs. He doesn't seem to mind that, though. "Rave music? You like that stuff?"

"I love it!" His voice suddenly sounds more enthusiastic than you've ever heard him. "I really enjoy going to rave parties. Going there always means having a good time, you know?"

"So there is more to you than money!" You unintentionally end up sounding more surprised than you want to. "Ah eh... Sorry. Did that sound weird?"

Your reaction gets a laugh about Lorenzo. "No no, not at all. It was kinda cute, to be honest." He then pulls into the restaurant's parking lot and looks at you before getting out of the car. "No going back now for you."

"I don't mind. Let me get to know you better."

You're about to open the car door when Lorenzo suddenly tells you to stop. He quickly gets out of the car and walks around it so he can open the door for you - just like when he picked you up.

"Are you always this much of a gentleman or is it because you're trying to win me over?" Your question is both out of curiosity and also for the sake of teasing him a little.

"How about you find out?" Lorenzo grins and holds his hand out to you. "You're here to get to know me, aren't you?"

A little laugh escapes you as you reach for his hand. "You better not be putting on an act, though. I want to know what you're like. I need to know if you're worth giving a chance."

"Oh, I definitely am!" Lorenzo helps you out of the car and quickly pulls you closer to his body, so close your chest is pressed against his. "I'll prove it to you, okay?"

With this, he finally gains a blush from you for the first time - and this only gives him another confidence boost.

Still holding your hand, Lorenzo leads you to go into the restaurant where you sit down together at the table he reserved.

The entire time, you find yourself talking to Lorenzo without a single awkward silence in between and there aren't any even slightly uncomfortable moments either. Lorenzo still seems very confident in winning you over tonight, and the more you get to know him, the more you think the same.

It's genuinely nice to find out who he really is. You've actually known each other ever since he's joined Ubers a while back, but because you're not on the same team, you never had proper conversations with him. You don't even know how he ended up falling for you because your paths only ever crossed when your practises happened to be at a similar time. Well, at least in the beginning. At some point Lorenzo started coming at times when he knew you'd be at practice just so he could see you. And that's when the unnecessary amount of gift giving started that caused you to be rather uncomfortable.

But even though you had a somewhat weird start with Lorenzo, now you're glad it went that way. Because if it didn't, tonight wouldn't be happening and you'd be missing out on a lot of fun.

Although, now one question is stuck in your head.

"Why did you start falling for me?" You ask as soon as the past conversation topic is over.

The question catches Lorenzo off guard. The previous topic was more fun and lighthearted and while he could respond to this in that way as well, he thinks he should give you a more serious answer. But truth is, he doesn't completely remember the reasons.

It takes a few moments until he responds, and when he does, his voice sounds a little less confident than before. He doesn't give off the impression as if he's lying, but he rather sounds as if he's about to get nervous again.

"Well... I don't really know. It's been a while since I started crushing on you, hasn't it?" He leans back in his chair and turns his face to the side a little, hoping it would help hiding his blush - but it really doesn't.

"Then, what are the things you like about me so much?" You keep pushing further, really wanting to get proper answers to this.

It's obvious how Lorenzo wants to go back to only showing confidence, but the more he thinks about reasons why he loves you, the more flustered he's getting to the point where he's unable to answer at all. Lorenzo being at a loss for words is something you've never seen before, but it's kinda fun and something you could definitely get used to. Maybe you should get him flustered more often.

But for now, you decide to have some mercy with him and change the conversation topic to something else. And even though Lorenzo is back to talking, you can see how he's still struggling every now and then because he's definitely still thinking about the things he loves about you. Maybe he'll be able to say those some time else.

Besides that, the date continues going very well for both of you. Until the moment comes around that Lorenzo has secretely started dreading, which has added to his flusterness to some extend.

Who's gonna pay? Are both of you going to pay for your own food? Should he pay since he's the one who invited you? Should you split the bill in half?

Even though that's something important to ask, it's related to money so Lorenzo is unsure if he should say something about it. You can see the struggle on his face. It's kinda cute to look at, knowing he's overthinking simply because of you. To spare him from any further struggling, you decide to make things easier for him.

"I'll pay, alright?"

And that's it. He doesn't say no, he only nods and thanks you in response because he knows if he made money a topic now, he might push you away again after the date went so well.

But actually, date is not over yet. According to your original plan it should be, but you're having so much fun that going home now feels wrong. So instead, you get back into Lorenzo's car and he just drives around for a bit so you get to talk more. When you got into the car he offered you to put on music again, but you declined because it would only serve as distraction from any conversations that could get more serious.

"You never actually told me how you ended up in Ubers." You say in a curious but questioning tone, expecting to receive a simple answer similar to what you've heard from other players.

"You really want to know?" Lorenzo's tone is serious, but in a weird way that almost feels out of character for him.

"If you want to tell me."

"Hm..." Lorenzo needs a moment to figure out how to tell you about this past. He didn't really expect to get this personal with you tonight, but he doesn't really mind either. He's never cared much about telling others about how he ended up in Ubers, but when it comes to you he's suddenly so serious about things because he's trying to not do or say anything that could push you only slightly away from him.

"I'll just keep it short, okay?" A smile returns to his face in order to not drag down the mood, even though what he's about to tell you isn't the happiest story. "My parents were shit and abondened me, I was homeless, then Snuffy got me out of the streets and asked me to play soccer for him."

It takes you a few seconds to let that sink in. "...You were homeless? Oh my- I'm so sorry-"

"Eh, don't be." Lorenzo shrugs. "That was in the past. I'm doing great now. After all... I got to go on a date with you tonight.~"

And that's how he gains another blush from you.

"Tell me, is that why you're obsessed with money? Because you used to have none?"

"I thought we're not talking about money tonight?" Lorenzo pulls the car to the side and brings it to a stop. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"You're not wrong but-" You unbuckle your seatbelt so you can lean closer towards him. "Isn't this something important I should know about you?"

"It is, I guess." Lorenzo shrugs before unbuckling his seatbelt as well, leaning closer to you, too. "But yes, you're right. That's where my obsession comes from."

"I'm so sorry for you, I didn't know you ha-"

Lorenzo puts a finger on your lips to make you stop talking. "I told you to not be sorry. So don't be, okay?"

His action makes you giggle a bit. "Okay okay. But... Hm... You know, it's nice to know more about you now. And also to know where your money obsession comes from."

Lorenzo only nods in response. He didn't even listen to you properly. After touching your lips with his finger, kissing you is all he can think about now. Due to that his blush is returning, just this time you don't know the reason.

Lorenzo wants to kiss you. He really, really wants to. But he feels like it's too early for you. It's just the first date, after all.

"Maybe it's time to get you home. It's getting late." He says when he regains his ability to speak. He was about to drift off into thoughts about a kiss, but stopped himself before that happened.

You're a bit confused why he didn't respond to what you last said, but decide to not point it out and agree with him instead. It really is getting late by now and as much as you'd love to spend more time with Lorenzo, it's time to go home.

When he drops you off at home, Lorenzo once again gets out of the car to open the door for you and helps you out. This time, his grip on your hand is a little tighter than earlier, but he lets go quickly after you get out of the car. Instead, he wraps his arm around your body and places his hand on your waist as he walks you to the door. Just before you get to take your keys out, he starts talking again.

"I think I like... No, I know I love you even more now." Lorenzo reaches out his other hand. "And you know... There's a thing that I'd still really like to have." He points at the area on your chest where your heart is, but without touching you there. "Tell me, how can I buy that?" He says jokingly, but there's a hint of seriousness in his voice.

"Are we really going back to this?" You say in a teasing tone while taking his hand into yours. "You were getting really close to winning the chance for a second date, you know?"

Now that you're holding his hand again, Lorenzo uses the opportunity to pull you closer to his body. "And you know I was joking, right?"

"When it comes to you and money, I can never know."

"This is not about money, it's about your love. And I think..." Lorenzo leans his face closer to yours, but not close enough for a kiss. "...I might get more serious about that than I am about money."

"Oh? Really?" Another blush forms on your cheeks, and this time it's stronger than the few times before.

"I have all the money I could ask for already, there's nothing to aim for with it anymore. But when it comes to you... There's something to fight for."

"Who said you still have to fight?"

Lorenzo squeezes your hand a little tighter and the one that's previously been on your waist now wanders over to the back of your head. "Are you implying I won your love already? With one date?"

"Let's say... you're close."

"Close enough for a kiss?"

Your blush gets a bit stronger. "Close enough for a kiss."

Lorenzo doesn't hesitate for a single second and pulls you in for a kiss, wishing it wouldn't have to end. When you pull away from each other, he looks into your eyes with an amount of love and admiration so big, it brings butterflies right into your stomach.

"So... The second date will happen, right?" Lorenzo asks while pulling his arms away so you can get your keys out of your pocket.

"You really think I'd say no after this?"

Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @luvcalico @vanitasbrainrot @deerangle3 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @chaosinanutshell

[the-last-quest]

Broken Bones

-No Cigar

[every-sasuke-uchiha]

[chibishortdeath]

I did a little bit of background practice yesterday. I usually forget that I could be drawing scenery and stuff so I’m kinda rough at it. It took like three tries to get the results of that first picture (second picture was one of those tries, and I’m not even showing the other one it was really bad 💀💀💀)

Also just throwing in some other doodles cause yeah :3. Simon. Some of these are from the same page and some of these are ones I think I forgot to post a bit ago so if there’s repeats then eh whatever lol. Explanations under a cut :)

This is pretty much just a study of a photo of a graveyard I ran into on Pinterest. Liminal spaces are very nice for finding background references because you can be sure no one is gonna be in them and they have the weird vibe that The Guy™️ should be in. But holy HELL trees are HARD. Like obviously I know what a tree looks like but the second I have to draw branches trees suddenly do not make sense anymore 💀

Another liminal space, this one was a path with the sky completely blacked out. I tried putting Simon into it but he kinda ended up a little muddled and too small augh. I’m also not very great at combining people and backgrounds so uh yeah. This one was also a much faster doodle just trying to warm up for the first one. But eh it’s cool idk. I need to put him in more liminal spaces or like try to draw the Simon’s Quest areas in 3D eventually.

Small practice comic! There’s no words, Simon just kinda walks a bit and passes out. I was gonna have more things happen but I didn’t have the room for it and decided to just leave it as a little practical piece. He’s probably gonna get up in a little bit and freak out about how much time he wasted.

Just a Simon head :3. His hair is fun to draw! I usually end up simplifying things as like a little uh polygonal… I think that’s the word… When drawing skulls, I usually go for octagons instead of circles because that’s much easier, but that ends up bleeding into how I draw hair making it kinda spikey and pointy in some spots on the top. I feel like I draw pretty inconsistently, but he’s very pretty and fun to draw regardless of how he ends up :3

This is some weird ass fan art of two things that aren’t related at all lmao. Sometimes you gotta crossover things that don’t make sense for the fun of it. This is Simon drawn based on a scene from the Fear Garden music video! Fear Garden is a banger, shout out to Chaa fr, it’s a vocaloid song about a girl who has a weird obsession with hands (Kira joke lol) and kills people to plant their hands in her secret garden where she treats them like flowers. Yeah, again it makes no sense, but the pose with the two mirrored characters was really cool and idk the vibes were there—

Simon sitting in between two graves, both say “BELMONT” in big letters, but one is for Christopher and Cyncia and the other is for Soleil and whoever his significant other was, we don’t have a name so it’s cut off. This has me thinking about the time in between all these characters hmm. Doing the math, Soliel would’ve been in his 90s when Simon was born, so there’s actually a good chance he wasn’t Simon’s grandfather, rather his great grandfather :O. Which means that there’s two generations we know nothing about between these two. And also that Simon would’ve never met either Soleil or Christopher or Cyncia :(. Then that has me thinking about fan comic stuff and how I’m gonna depict Simon hmmmmmmm. I imagine Simon spent a lot of time in the family graveyard tbh.

Simon is totally me when I dramatically collapse on a large marble monument of some sort in the graveyard— There’s also a couple attempts at drawing his paldrons at different angles but aaaa I can’t visualize these things properly. They’re just like kinda flared half ovals, why are they so hard to draw at any angle but like head on and top view 💀💀💀??? I’m trying to get out of the habit of drawing them bent in angles that don’t make sense but argggggg it’s hard lol.

Yeah, recent doodles tho yippie d(^^ )!