#i always have a Response to seeing someone writing in animation

[saeshiraw]

tired girl hours i’m just ranting bcos i don’t have enough time to cry

[mushramoo]

I been talking to a lot of ppl w cats lately (I volunteer at an animal shelter) and I didn’t know this needed to be said but

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT DECLAW YOUR CAT.

Declawing sounds very normal to people who aren’t educated on it so let me show you what it actually is.

As you might notice from the diagram, the claw is attached to a small bone at the very end of a cat’s paw. They are fused to this bone, which on a human hand would be where your last knuckle is (the one right before your nail). When someone gets a cat declawed, they aren’t just removing the claw.

The entire last digit of the cat’s paw is removed. (See below)

This severely impedes the cat’s ability to balance itself, is extremely painful for them, and can make the cat extremely aggressive because it no longer has one of its main defense mechanisms! It can also cause many other medical issues down the line including infection, necrosis, and some cats are never able to walk correctly again. Most cats that have this done never fully recover from the procedure and are in constant chronic pain.

It is extremely inhumane and is illegal in only two states at the time I’m writing this!!!! (Maryland and New York) Cats should only have this procedure if it is a life or death situation, never just because someone finds a cat being a cat inconvenient for them. Don’t get a cat if you don’t want to be scratched or have some ruined furniture. If you want more information on this topic, I’d recommend Jackson Galaxy’s YouTube video on it, and to read up on some articles I will link in the comments.

I know I don’t usually post about these types of things, but it’s made me extremely angry to hear people mention getting their cats declawed so flippantly as if it doesn’t ruin the cat’s life, and always for an asinine reason like “they scratched my couch” or “they scratch my kids” THOSE ARE YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES AS A CAT OWNER. Treat your kids and peers to treat animals with respect, or don’t get a cat.

[phntmeii]

Hii! Can i request jealous sanji x reader? 💗

Jealous!Sanji At the Bar . . .

Pairing: Jealous!Sanji x Pirate!GN!Reader

General Warnings: Touchy guy at the bar, Catcalling/Unwarranted Flirting, Possessive!Sanji

A/N: Any opportunity to write for this man and I'm on my hands and knees barking. Absolutely self-indulgent post so ty anon!! <33 Love all the OPLA requests coming in :p

> Sanji was always one to make his interest in someone almost annoyingly clear. And it applied to damn near everyone he had met.

> He couldn’t help but fall in love all the time. You’d always make fun of how it seemed he fell in love with damn near everything with a pulse.

> It was the whole reason you didn’t take his interest in you as anything special. He flirted with everyone. That was just Sanji’s personality, right?

> You and the rest of the Straw Hats found themselves at a bar to cool off. The sea was unkind and people were even less so. A break was well-needed and well-deserved.

> Everyone found themselves in their own little corner; drinking, dancing, whatever they found most interesting.

> You got yourself your own drink to assist in cooling off. Both seats beside you were empty until a man found himself seated beside you.

> “Hey, pretty thing… Don’t see many like you ‘round here.”

> Already, you were dreading this. There were plenty of seats anywhere else but he had to choose to sit beside you.

> Zoro, who had been watching the room with a beer in hand noticed him sitting down beside you. His arm elbowed Sanji, receiving an already annoyed yell in return.

> Zoro just rolled his eyes, “Hey, waiter. Use your eyes.” Zoro knew that Sanji felt more for you than he did with others and thought it’d be interesting to see his reaction.

> It was not the most earnest thing in the world but he knew it’d be entertaining for him.

> Sure enough, once Sanji’s eyes land on you, all he saw was your back toward him and a man who was smiling all too much.

> He was immediately upset, thinking maybe you were entertaining this guy. But the moment he saw that man’s hand find its way to your back and begin gliding down, he was marching his way over.

> Sanji put his hand on the man’s shoulder, receiving a slight jump from him in reaction. His hand was slightly aggressive in its grip.

> “Apologies, sir. But I need to borrow them for just a moment.”

> Before the man could even get in an annoyed response to having his “goal” taken away from him, Sanji grabbed your arm and walked away with you.

> You were confused as well. You were more than capable of taking care of yourself, especially when strangers tried to get handsy. Your hand was already on the dagger you kept tucked away when the man had approached only to be dragged away by Sanji.

> “Sanji, what the fu-“

> Your speech was promptly interrupted when Sanji took you into the single bathroom, shutting the door and putting you against the door.

> His eyes raked over you like a goddamn animal. It was clear he was annoyed before he looked down and calmed himself. It wasn’t your fault. He was mad at the guy, not you.

> “That guy was being an ass.” He looked up, returning to his overly-cocky grin. “Can’t let mon amour be harassed like that, can I?”

> “I could handle him”

> “Never said you couldn’t, love.”

> He was being overconfident, as per usual, but with how close he was—barely inches away from your own face, words were escaping from you to use in response.

> Sanji’s hand reached up, taking your chin between his two fingers. Making his usual charming smile, he spoke softly.

> “Just be careful, hm? Want you all to myself… I’m not one to share someone… so... perfect."

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[bridgetoesoteria]

💌💟Realistically...What would they write in a love letter to you?

Surpriseee bish! Here is my double post as puh-romised. Its spring break, I aced my midterm, I had a nice lil chit chat with my crush where I high key let on to having feelings . *ahem* Now I wanna smoke and pull cards with my internet besties <3

So, I don't like those mushy-gushy readings that tell you the most ideal outcome, not the most realistic outcome. I am hoping to channel an authentic "letter," from the person you are here for.

Options are left to right. I hope it resonates 🥰

Pile 1

4-card spread: Page of Swords, Girl w/ Violin, Strength, The Sun. BOTD: 3 of Swords

I just want to see you happy. I hope you know that. I miss the feeling of you holding me. I think about all the times, I got to hold your hands in mine. I think you are amazing and angelic. If I ever seem difficult, or like I am pushing you away, its just because I don't want to hurt you even worse. You're the whole package. You can shine with or without me.

If there is still bad blood, I will make it right. At least that's what I think about doing. All the time. Can I step up? Can I really have my happy ending; The car, the house, the family, building a life together. I need to get over my cold feet, because the only person I see is you.

P.S.

I love your eyes. I love how much hope I feel when I look into them. I love your hair, especially the length/thickness. I love how balanced you are, and how you can consider different points of view. It has taught me to be more compassionate. It has taught me to care about someone other than myself. You show me that I can get over my demons. We could be a power couple.

(If you have a "butt chin," your person loves this too lol)

Pile 2

4-card spread: 8 of Swords, 9 of Swords(R), 9 of Wands, The Star. BOTD: The Emperor

This person is definitely very attracted to you, but we are here for a love letter, mkay? Not a sext.

I don't know why you are acting like you don't want me anymore. You better not be giving away my ____ to anyone else. I want to be with you. I consider us to be a couple, no matter what happens. If you question where my head is at, my loyalty is with you. I don't want to see you with anyone else. I hate thinking about you being out there, living like you're single. I think about us having kids, animals, a family life. (If you already have kids they want to keep the family together).

I am working on my temptations. I know I need to be more responsible and I am willing to do that. I want to try having self-control. If that means cutting other people off, or waiting until you are comfortable being physical, I will do that. I respect your boundaries. You have every right to have them. I know you are just trying to love yourself. You should always stand your ground...even with me.

P.S.

You have a beautiful heart. You are so nurturing. You keep everything flowing. You completely fulfill me. You are more than enough. You definitely know what you are doing. I wouldn't have taken you for a "lady in the streets, freak in the sheets" type.

Right now, you probably are focusing on yourself. I hope you find the happiness that you are looking for. After pouring into everyone else so much, I hope you will start pouring into you now. I hope you will be receptive to all the good things you deserve.

Pile 3

4-card spread: Ace of Pentacles, 6 of Swords, Page of Cups, The Empress. BOTD: Justice

I can't figure you out. And its...amazing! It keeps everything so fresh. Maybe you don't feel like you are being mysterious but you are. I want to know what goes on "behind-the scene." I don't mean that in a pervy way. I mean, I want to know who you are, where you come from, what is currently going on in your life. I want to make the cut. Do you ever think about what your favorite diamond cut is? 💎

(Where ever your connection is, move up a step. This is not a literal proposal for everyone)

I want us to be on track. If I have to apologize, I will do that. I want to finally start something new. I want to make you feel like the king/queen that you are. I want us to be happy together. Especially if we are expecting 🤰

P.S.

Can I just brag on you really quick? I love your face shape. I love when we lock eyes. I love how you style your hair, even if I have never said so aloud. Even if I tease you about it sometimes. Its cute and so you. Everyone says we (would) go well together, and I have to agree. We could be our town's MGK and Megan Fox 🤣🤣

On a more serious point, you make me want to do better. Internally, I always feel challenged by you. I have my old beliefs, and then there's you. You make me want to throw out all the BS I believe about myself and start valuing myself more. I see how magical life can be, because I see how many miracles happen when we are together. I know I can do better.

Pile 4 4-card spread: 8 of Wands, 10 of Wands, The Emperor, 8 of Swords. BOTD: Ace of Swords.

(Your person could actually be the type to spill their feelings over texts or in the notes section of their phone)

I think about saying this all the time. I build up the courage to start typing, but I can never hit send. I just feel this lump in my throat. I'm a man! (or they are just someone who suppresses their emotions). I shouldn't have all these feelings. I feel overwhelmed by my attraction, my thoughts, my unexpressed feelings.

That's kind of what I grew up with. It was normal. People call it "traditional." I always thought (one of their parents, but I am really getting mom) could do better. Why are you still with them? I don't want that to be you. I don't want that to be our story. You always carry yourself well. I'm proud to be with you. I know you're a catch. I know you are the full package. I can't let you go. Please reconsider. I want to be with you.

P.S.

I hope you're getting rest. Don't lose sleep over me. Which is hypocritical, because I stay up thinking about you. Don't be scared...but I may have watched you sleep. I like how peaceful you look. I feel like I have privacy to fully process my emotions. I look at your face and I think about all the possibilities. It makes me nervous. If I have made a proposal of some kind, maybe to reconcile, I hope you sleep on it before you make a decision.

Pile 5 4-card spread: King of Cups, 4 of Swords, 9 of Wands, The Sun. BOTD: 8 of Swords

I think a lot of you are asking about a feminine energy, but flip the roles if needed. You could be the feminine energy being described, so maybe they want you to know you are "seen". It just started raining, so that makes me feel like this person is definitely more on the feminine side, or in touch with their emotions. You could both be young, or they're younger, or someone has a baby face.

I think about you all the time. Even when I am sad. I don't know if you know how much I struggle. My mental health isn't always in the best place. But you take my mind off of everything. I love when you look deep in thought. I come up with all these random ideas about what you could be thinking of. If you are away getting better, overcoming an ED, I hope you are being strong. I look forward to seeing you again.

You make me so happy. I miss being playful and messing with you. I could see us having babies. I think I would be a great mom/dad. But I know that's daydreaming and wishful thinking. I don't always understand your moods or what you want from me. Could you make it clear without it becoming an argument. I don't want to make you upset.

P.S.

You are soo pretty. I think your haircut really compliments your face. I love your side profile too. You are so smart. You know so much about the world around you or you are always willing to learn. I am impressed by your writing and/or creativity. I love everything about you. If I were an artist, I would make a portrait of you. You would be my muse. I just want you to know how special you are. You are 1 of 1 forreal. I am so grateful to have ever met you. You bring so much joy to my life.

Whew. GD! That was a lot lol. This took me two days. I am going to relax and enjoy the start of Spring Break. Whoop whoop 🙌

And don't laugh at me...but I just discovered archives so I might stop updating my masterlist, since you can find all my readings there too.

Lastly, I am also doing personals if you have not heard! Take a gander.

~ K

[riddlesb1tch]

Opposites Attract

Part 1

Azriel x reader

summary: you’re messy and unorganized, love staying up late and sleeping in in the morning, so what’s going to happen when you’re forced to work with the shadowsinger, the most disciplined person you’ve ever met?

warnings: none!

a/n: this is the most I’ve written in a while but I’m liking how this is turning out. I feel like this could’ve been one part but I don’t really wanna write a 10k word fic so I’ve decided this is gonna be a series. hope you enjoy <3

~●○°●○°●○~

Azriel, by your viewpoint, had always only been the Spymaster, the epitome of propriety, with an excellent work ethic and an affinity for discipline. For that reason, you felt like you’d never get along with him.

You were messy, unorganized and a little clumsy on occasion. This always led to some interesting stories later on and a lot of teasing from the rest of your family. You pretended to be annoyed at them, rolling your eyes at their snide comments and making fun of their flaws in return, but secretly you loved when they let loose.

Azriel, however, never joined in on this teasing, despite the two of you having known each other for well over a decade. You assumed that it was your lack of discipline that irked him and so he chose to stay away but the High Lord didn't consider this before meddling.

it was a Sunday morning when, in your half-dazed state, you made your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

"Y/n," Rhysand called from behind you.

You groaned in response, not bothering to turn around to face him. It was way too early to be seeing people.

He stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, no doubt waiting for a more proper acknowledgement of the High Lord of the Night Court. When he realized he wasn’t going to get it, he huffed and proceeded with what he needed to say. 

"I need some reports filed quickly so from tomorrow you're gonna be working with Azriel to get them to me by the end of the month," Rhysand stated.

Your eyes widened, now feeling more awake than the strongest coffee had made you in the morning. You whipped your head around to face the smirking High Lord, knowing fully well this wasn't an urgent task but a way for Rhysand and Feyre to intervene in your love life. The inner circle loved to joke that because you and Azriel were opposites of each other, you’d get along great. It was all fun and games until Feyre got obsessed with the idea of actually giving you and Azriel a try regardless of whether you and Azriel wanted to or not.

“Can’t someone else do it?” You asked. “Why does it have to be me?”

“Because everyone else is busy doing their work. Besides, Azriel will be a good influence on you. Maybe he can teach you some discipline.” That smirk was still on his face and you’ve never wished more for Feyre’s abilities to make animals out of water. You’d love to leave a bear on Rhysand right about now, but unfortunately, he was your High Lord and his wish is your command, so you settled for the next best thing. 

“Your shirt is covered in lint,” you side-eyed and walked out with your coffee cup in hand, leaving a gaping Rhysand swatting at his clothes. 

At least you still had the day to prepare yourself for tomorrow.

After training, you were in your room having just come out of the shower. Someone knocked on your door and you had a feeling you knew who it was but strongly hoped against it. You made your way to the door and right before you could open it, your foot caught in a shirt on the ground and you fell with a loud thud.

Grimacing, you stood up, rubbing your elbow where it hit the floor. Opening the door, you saw Azriel standing on the other side with a smirk, no doubt because of your fall. Gods you couldn’t even open the door without being clumsy. Meanwhile, Azriel stood his back straight, shoulders pulled back, wings neatly folded and hands behind his back. He looked like the definition of grace.

You truly were opposites.

“Y/n,” he nodded in greeting, ignoring the knowledge of your fall to save you from further embarrassment.

You smiled slightly in return.

“I’ve been informed that we’re working on the reports together till the end of the month,” he stated.

“That’s correct,” you confirmed.

He nodded. “Meet me in my study tomorrow morning at 8,” Azriel said and walked away.

You stood startled for a second before calling after him, “Eight in the morning? Are you serious?”

Azriel turned around with a confused expression. “Yes.”

“Who starts work at 8 in the morning?” You questioned in disbelief.

“I normally start work at 6 but for you, I’m starting late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave a final nod of farewell before turning around and walking away.

You gaped, internally cursing Rhysand for putting you in this situation. For a person like you who preferred to spend nights awake reading, eight in the morning was like the middle of the night. You didn’t know how you’d survive like this until the month's end. Groaning, you shut the door and slumped face-first into bed. 

Cauldron have mercy. 

~●○°●○°●○~

The next morning came around sooner than you were ready for. You’d set an alarm for 6 so you’d have ample time to wake up, enjoy your morning coffee, take a shower, and be ready for a day of torture. However, when 6 A.M. rolled around, getting trampled by a horse in your sleep sounded better than waking up, so you snoozed your alarm and fell back asleep. 

When Mor burst into your room, you woke with a start.

“Good morning, princess!” she yelled, walking in wearing her night clothes still but looking as if she was ready for a night out at Rita’s.

“What time is it?” you gasped, frantically reaching for the clock at your bedside. 

Mor jumped onto your bed. “What's up?” 

8:02 A.M. 

“Fuck!” you screamed, jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom. “I'm late!” 

You shut the bathroom door, rushing about your morning routine, brushing your teeth, then hair, and slapping on some moisturizer. 

“Relax! He lives in the same house!” Mor shouted from your bedroom. 

You rushed out of the bathroom, reaching for the pair of shorts on the floor. “Yes, but we live in very different worlds,” you replied, slipping on the shorts and looking around for a shirt. 

Mor lay on your bed, head propped up on one arm, and looked at you with an amused expression. 

You threw on a random shirt you found in the closet and started to tie your hair into a messy bun. Mor took in your look and frowned. “Are we sure that top works with those shorts?” she asked. 

You looked at her incredulously. “I don’t care about that right now!” you exclaimed. “Where are my shoes?” you went on your knees to look under the bed and pulled out a pair of white shoes you’d kicked under there last night. You glanced at the clock while putting on shoes and cursed under your breath. 

“Girl, you know he’s not going to eat you alive if you’re 20 minutes late right?” Mor asked. 

“No, but with the amount of lecturing I'm about to get, he might as well,” you sighed, getting off the bed and finally heading out the door. 

“Good luck!” Mor called behind you as you headed to the door. 

“Thanks,” you replied and rushed outside. 

~●○°●○°●○~

Azriel’s study door was ajar so you peeked your head in to make sure he was there. 

Azriel was sitting in his chair, head down, looking over some paperwork when you walked in. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, going to sit in the chair opposite his. “I’m sorry I’m late.” 

Azriel looked at the clock then at you, and said, “You’re earlier than any of us expected, actually.” 

You were taken aback slightly by the statement. “Us?” you asked. 

“Rhysand, Cassian and I,” he replied. “In fact, you just cost me quite a bit by being only twenty minutes late.” 

Now you were straight-up offended. “You three bet that I’d slack off?” 

You felt rage towards Cassian and Rhysand for thinking so little of you, but you decided to deal with them later. For now, you were stuck with Azriel for a good eight hours, and those were not going to be easy if you were upset with him the whole time. So, you shook his words off and put on a smile. 

“So what are we doing?” you asked. 

[catboybiologist]

Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

[flynnriderishot]

heeey um i got my antidepressants dose increased :’) i hate how im feeling these days and my ed is getting out of control i wish i could stop taking them haha could you maybe write something where vinnie comforts and takes care of the reader on her really bad days? ilysm thank you 🥹🫶🏼

not alone - v.h

a/n: i want to start off by saying that i’m so sorry for how you’re feeling. i’ve been in your position before and can promise that it gets better. my private messages are always open if you’d like to talk to me about anything (this is open for everyone). i also want to apologize for how long it took me to get through to your request, it was buried deep within my inbox.

you haven’t been feeling your best lately. far from it, actually.

you couldn’t really pinpoint why you’ve been feeling off, but it was definitely noticeable to your friends, family and boyfriend that your usual bubbly personality has slowly been melting away as the days been by.

it started off with you spacing out during conversations, to not giving your input at all, to simply just not showing up when there was a group hang out.

this raised serious concerns with your boyfriend, vinnie, as he wasn’t used to seeing you so down.

with your relationship being new, only seven months in, he wasn’t sure how to approach it.

though, having dealt with his own personal problems with his feelings, he’s learned that constantly being alone with your thoughts wasn’t the best decision. so, after giving you your alone time to process things, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

which is why he was currently walking into your apartment with a bag full of your favorite things, snacks, face masks, and a stuff animal that made him think of you when he first saw it.

he placed the bag on the counter, slowly making his way down the hall to your bedroom. knocking on the door, he turned the knob and spoke,

“babe? it’s vinnie, i don’t know if you saw my text… i wanted to come check on you.”

he squinted his eyes to try and get a better look into the dark room. he sighed softly at the sight of your figured buried beneath your comforter.

he noticed the movement from your breathing, immediately picking up that your weren’t asleep.

“how you feeling?”

“i don’t want to talk, vin.” you mumbled, praying that he would hear so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself.

“that’s okay.” he nodded, swallowing thickly before he sat down near you, “can i lay with you?”

you didn’t give a verbal response, only moving over a bit so he could get comfortable. you silently thanked God that your forced yourself to get out of bed and shower earlier in the morning.

vinnie pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“i want to let you know that you aren’t alone, okay? whatever is going on, i just hope you realize that i’m here for you, your friends are here for you, and i know your family is too. i know you don’t want to feel like a burden to anyone but your feelings matter. and if you aren’t okay, then you should tell someone. i’m here, i will always be here.”

his words were enough to make the tear swelling in your eyes roll down your face.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i’m just so sad but i have no reason to be.” you sniffled, burying your head into his chest.

he rubbed your back softly, closing his eyes at the sound of your sniffles,

“that’s okay. we all get sad sometimes. and even if you don’t know how to describe it, or if you don’t know how to word it, it could be good to at least be with someone who has an understanding.” he felt you nod against him,

“i know that i hate not being able to see you be your usually bubbly self and i hate knowing that you’re struggling alone. i want to there to help you. i want you to burden me with your problems, you know? i want to help you when you need me most. that’s what i’m here for. you don’t deserve to suffer alone.”

“i know. i’m sorry for pushing you away.”

“you have no reason to be sorry.” he lifted your head, pressing a gentle peck to your lips, “if anything, i’m sorry for not coming over sooner.”

“you’re here now.” you tightened your hold on him, “that’s all that matters.”

taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo

[blingblong55]

Model- 141+ König NSFW

Based on requests:

1.OKAY BUT 141+KÖNIG WITH A READER THAT DOES DIGITAL ART🏃‍♂️ 2.Can you write about TF141+König with an S/O what draws, animates, etc? I was thinking more digital art, but traditional is cool too. If you only wanna do one character, can it be Ghost? Thank you!

GN!reader, digital artist/painter!reader, established!relationship, civilian!reader, smut, 18+, MDNI, Sub!Male, Dom!reader

A/N: Some will be short...and you'll definitely notice who is my favourite on this one

As someone with the talent and skills to create art with your hands and a clean canvas, you always find yourself looking for a model. Thankfully, he is there now, in that position, just for you.

Price:

You mentioned before that you needed a model to help you with proportions for your art. Your strong and bulky boyfriend decided to be just the right model you needed. For months you and him work late at night, and he props himself up for you, wearing whatever you need to bring your ideas to life. The people who buy said art always admire how realistic your art looks, and how no other artist does what you do. And it's all thanks to him.

At the moment, he is on the sofa, dressed in a black suit, a collar around his neck, eyes looking at you, pleading for you. "Stay still, I have to get this angle." You sketch his body onto the canvas of your tablet. You had been teasing him since he woke up, vibrator to his sensitive cock. You had tied him up before this session, mainly because he kept touching himself for some release. Now, staying still and obeying was his punishment. And for him, it was the worst one so far.

"How...much...more...please..need-.." he said in between whimpers and moans. You approach, looking at him, taking in how needy he was being. You get down on your knees, and he moves a little only to find you sketching this position. He whines and closes his eyes, whimpers getting louder by the second. "Stay still or do I have to teach you another lesson?" The masochist in him wanted to be taught a lesson, "Please..please do" You grin, and slap his face lightly causing him to whimper in response. "Don't make any noise, I'm busy.." For an hour, he stayed still, cumming from just the way you teased and looked at him. For sure, this site would end up in someone's dungeon.

Gaz:

When he and you started to get more intimate and he'd make you look at what you and he were doing through the mirror, that's when you knew he had to be the model you'd use for your creations. It took time to mould him into who he is for you but it was all so worth it. Currently, he is leashed to your canvas' stand. Looking up at you, the bite marks and hickeys you had done hours prior still worn proudly on his neck. He was wearing nothing but the collar on his neck and the fishnets you made him wear. His face is slightly red from the heated makeout session you two had since he was a good boy for you.

Your paintbrushes colouring the canvas in front of you, he looked up at you. How sexy you looked when you were so focused on your art. You know he likes it when others watch as you fuck him. How well you can ride and how well he can listen to you. So, you brought a mirror into the art studio. Made him look at his reflection as you ride him, each time he would ruin a line in your art, it was another slap to his already abused face. Tears ran down his cheeks but a wide smile as he enjoyed the thought of how others would look at the canvas and see a moment where you once more made him yours.

Paintbrushes used to mess with his already-hardened nipples. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to go faster, but you resisted, not wanting to ruin the creation you were making. Some paint smudged to his chest, your hand prints on them when you'd get carried away and ride him faster.

Soap:

He was the one who offered himself up, wanting to please you not just physically but visually. You had made him wear his kilt, war paint on as he spread his legs open for you. Hands in between his thighs, he leans forward, looking up at you with puppy eyes. You had been working with him in this position for too long now and all he needed was just some attention, physically. You knew you wanted this painting to feel more personal, needed a touch of yourself and him in it. So, you picked out the paints that were safe for the next activity you had in mind. You laid the cloth of a canvas on the floor and commanded him to go to it and get on his knees to wait for you.

Poured some of the safe paint on his chest, and you and he began to make out. The cloth filled with paint, art made from your bodies. By the time you and him were done paint was all over your bodies. He requested, as a reward, that you and him take a shower and if you wanted, he could also pose for you in the shower.

Ghost:

He loves to be your sub so when you mentioned that you needed a model for your art, he wanted to be the subject of all your attention. Currently, you have him tied up with leather ropes. A cock ring on him as you paint his position. He looks up at you with puppy eyes, his mask lifted only far up for you to see his lips. Every now and then, he closes his legs to get some friction, only to have his inner thighs spanked by you. He whimpers a little, asking for forgiveness since he knows what you will do to him after you are finished painting this position.

He looks at you, doe-eyed. "Please, please just touch me...just once." But you ignore his pleas. He shuts his eyes and begins to think of how you would touch him. That was the only way he could find some release while he was tied up. You look at the canvas, paint and figures finally making sense, and then you hear his loud moans and cries of pleasure. He was cumming at the thought of you, no one around to touch him, just his mind playing for him.

His whimpers were louder as he couldn't stop cumming, it all leaked everywhere, spurting out as he bucked his hips. "Oh...yes...oh..mmm." he moans. Leather leaking his own mess as you watched with a pleased smile.

König:

It all started with asking him for help in a position you weren't quite sure you knew how it worked or looked. He offered to help and now months later, he has become the man you please and base your art on. Tonight, you had a sudden idea, a man in a suit, touching himself as he wore some rather rougher ropes around his suit. König, is never opposed to the idea, he loves to listen to you and if he knows he can please you this way, then as your good submissive boy, he will obey. The tie he was wearing was now used as a choker that you pull any time he moans too loud.

When you finish sketching his position he looks at you, brows furrowed. "Can I please be touched now? I was a good boy...please" his voice soft, whimpers low. You stand up, the pen which you used to sketch his position in hand. You trail the cold pen along his skin, reaching his sensitive parts. He begins to move his hips, hoping you could go faster, to touch him sooner. Your hands are on his hip when his already hardened cock begins to throb, pre cum leaking as he looks at you. "Meine liebe, I'm so..." he moans. "I'm your messy boy..." he whimpers.

A/N: Maybe this was not part of the request...but a girl has her own needs...anyway..bye

[rainydaymiscellaneous]

I hate to ask again but I had and idea. Also the last one was so cute thank you. If you can can you please write a Kaz Brekker x reader where the reader is in love with this book but no one has read is so they have no one to talk to about it so Kaz reads it and starts a conversation about it with the reader and they get really happy and start ranting about it to him and he’s just happy to sit and listen to them and make comments from time to time

Dude, send me all the requests for our boy Kazzle Dazzle your ideas are so creative!

Book Club (Kaz x reader)

He needed an opening. Just one solid reason to actually talk to you. You had been in the Dregs for years now and Kaz was still struggling to even breathe around you. He had this crush on you that he refused to admit was there. Inej saw it, even dumbass Jesper saw it.

You'd assume that Kaz was mute if it hadn't been for your presence in the Dregs. You had been there for a long time but disappeared on a mission far off for three years. The room above Kaz had been vacant and then suddenly it had life. Kaz had no idea anyone even lived above him until you knocked on his door your first night back and asked him to join you for tea.

There you sat on a nice couch with a cup of chamomile. Kaz was perplexed by who you were and why the fuck you wanted to drink glorified leaves in water.

"Why am I here?" He asked.

"You tell me." You said, sipping from your cup. Kaz furrowed his brow.

"You asked me to have tea with you." He said, watching you with those daggers for eyes.

"You didn't have to say yes." You shrugged.

"I did."

"You did not." "I did." He said. "Okay then, why did you have to accept?" You asked. He sighed, looking at you with his gloved hands gripping his cane.

"Because I needed to know who was suddenly living in the room above me." He said. You rose a brow.

"You could've asked Inej to investigate." You said. He blinked.

"You know Inej?" He asked.

"I've been in the Dregs for three years, of course I know your main lot. Inej, Jesper, Nina, Wylan and that off-putting convict Mattias." You said.

Kaz was confused. How did you know so much but he was ignorant to you? How did he not know who you were?

"I'm a sharpshooter. I use that-" you pointed to a rifle on the mantle "rifle to kill whoever you want dead." You said.

"Why do I not know you?" Kaz asked.

"I was off in Shu Han for Haskell." You said. "For what?" Kaz asked.

"You do your business, I'll do mine." You said.

He liked that response. It meant you'd keep any secret that slipped through your ears. "I will work for you when you need me. Say the word, I will be there no questions asked unless one of ours is bleeding." You said.

"Why tea?" He asked. "We easily could've done this over something less detestable."

You chuckled. "You've not had the right tea then." You said with that smile.

That fucking smile. From that moment on Kaz was hooked. He couldn't help it. It was hard to not fall in love with someone like you. You were always there when he needed you, apparently you had taken some training on stealth from Inej, leaning to be one with the dark making you even more deadly.

But for the deadly persona that the streets simply knew as "the bullet", you were a gentle person. Kaz often noticed you with stray animals, seeing that kind smile. The one that made Kaz at a loss for words. You'd often make that same smile at Kaz when you'd pass him with a gentle "hi boss."

Sure, technically Per Haskell was the "boss". You however knew damn well Kaz was the brains behind everything. You had become close with the other members of the Dregs, including Inej who called you a sister. She loved being around you. You gave good advice and that was probably why the rest of the group would flock to you.

So there you all were, your head in Jesper's lap as you read. Kaz had noticed your sudden interest in this, everytime he saw you, you had that book in hand now. Wylan looked over at you.

"Care to join the game?" He asked.

"I'm good." You said, turning the page.

"You've been reading that for two weeks now, come up for air." Inej said.

"I need to know if Alistair lives Inej, the prophecy is strongly implying he will die and I don't think Cousland can handle him dying." You muttered, reading.

"None of that made any sense." Nina said.

"It'll make sense if one of you would at least read it." You said.

"We're all too busy. Kaz keeps giving us stupid b&e's.(breaking and entering)" Jesper said.

"Not all of you are busy though. Wylan?" You said.

"Kaz has been training me for lockpicking." Wylan said.

"He take you to the financial district?" You asked, looking up.

"Once or twice." He shrugged.

"Course he did. Best place to practice." You said before going back to your book.

"Alright, who's in?" Jesper asked.

Inej noticed Kaz at the bar, occasionally looking over at you. "I'm out." She said.

Inej made her way to him and he cleared his throat, turning back to his drink. It looked like scotch but the smell... it wasn't scotch it was tea.

"Didn't you say that tea was just leaves in water that is hot?" Inej asked.

"I hadn't drank the right tea." Kaz said, looking at the glass with vacant eyes. Inej recognized the expression. Kaz was at war with himself, as usual.

He never handled his innermost feelings well, especially the ones that left him vulnerable. And what was more vulnerable than love? You were a plague to his mind, always there. When it wasn't your face that he was smiling internally at, it was your laugh. When it wasn't your laugh it was your smile and so on. He wanted so badly to talk to you like he once did over tea but he didn't think it was a good idea.

You were just so perfect in his eyes. So beautiful, so smart. If he tried to converse, he'd make an ass of himself. He needed an opening something fierce. Something to give him a reason to talk to you instead of "hey, your face is anestheticly pleasing to look at, which I do. Frequently. Without you knowing."

"You're staring at your glass mighty hard there." Inej said. Kaz looked up. "You should just talk to her." She said.

"It's not that easy." He muttered.

"I do it all the time." Inej said with an eyeroll.

"Because you are friends. You know her. I am not that lucky." He said.

"You do know her." Inej said.

"Not like that. I know her from afar. Where it's safe." He said, drinking the glass.

"Kaz, she's right there. Just talk to her." Inej said.

You got up, stretching with a yawn. "I'm heading out " You said to Inej.

"Kaz will go with you!" Inej volunteered.

If looks could kill, Inej would've been six feet under at that moment Kaz glared at her.

"Alright..?" You said confused. Kaz sighed looking at Inej and then you before standing up.

He walked out with you, noticing the dark clouds that hung in the sky. "Looks like it might rain" he said.

"Good reading weather." You said.

"You're usually reading nowadays." Kaz said.

"It's a nice escape from things when they get too intense." You shrugged.

"What is it that you're reading now?" He asked.

If you were a dog, your ears would've perked up. "It's amazing- it's about this girl who joins this legendary army and has to rebuild what was-... Sorry." You cleared your throat.

"Why are you apologizing?" He asked.

"Well apparently everyone thinks I talk too much about this book." You said.

"Who said that?"

"Well Nina." He'd kill her

"And Jesper." He'd shoot him with his own guns

"And Inej." Wait what?

"And pretty much anyone who asks me." You finished.

"Wow." Was all Kaz could muster for words.

You shrugged. "I wish they'd just listen to me and read the damn book." You said.

"Why do you think they haven't?" He asked.

"They're all busy. They have their own lives and I have mine. It's nothing personal, I know. But I just wish sometimes I could talk to someone about it and have them actually know what I'm talking about." You said walking.

Kaz then realized this was it. This was his perfect excuse to get closer. "What's the name of the book?" He asked curiously.

"Rise of the Grey Wardens. Why?" You asked.

"I figured I could read it." He shrugged.

Your eyes lit up and Kaz felt intense joy. He made you happy. He actually made you happy. He didn't mean to but he did and my god were you adorable to him when you were beaming. "Then I know where we should go!" You said walking ahead of him.

Instinctively he followed. "Where are we going?" He asked.

You looked back, a breeze blowing your hair in such a beautiful way as you turned to him. "My favorite place in Ketterdam."

He asked no more questions after that, just following you quietly through backstreets. Kaz watched you approach a side door to a building, knocking on it rhythmically. The door open, an older woman smiling at you.

"Weren't you just here a few days ago?" She asked.

"I brought a friend." You said with a smile, stepping back and motioning for Kaz to introduce himself. Kaz couldn't help but feel a little giddy of your use of 'friend'.

"I'm-"

"I know." She said. She didn't say it with disdain though, which shocked him. "You're the reason we're still open. Come on in Mister Brekker."

He didn't know what that meant but accepted the invitation, walking in. "Do you have another copy of 'Rise of the Grey Wardens'?" You asked.

"I do, why did you burn through your other copy?" She asked.

"Mister Brekker wishes to read." You said with a grin. Kaz's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. Bookshelves lined the walls both on the first and second floor of the building. There must've been thousands of books in front of Kaz.

"Here you are mister Brekker." The woman said.

"Thank you er..."

"Miriam." She said with a nod and a kind smile. She gave off the feeling of a doting grandmother with how fond she seemed of you. "Right! Y/n dear, I made some sugar biscuits if you'd like to try them" she said. You seemed to have found your way upstairs when you responded back with a

"Be right down!"

You returned with a new book in hand and Miriam grinned as Kaz took the book. "I see you've found the sequel." She said. You had the biggest grin.

"I had no clue it was a series." You admitted.

"The second one tends to be slow but it is vital for the third." She said, handing you a cookie.

You smiled, taking it. "Thank you. How much do I owe you?" You asked.

"Nothing. It's on the house." She declared.

"Miriam, if you ever wanted to apply for sainthood, I do believe you to be eligible." You said making her laugh.

"Thank the saints you didn't know me in my youth." She teased making you laugh. Kaz couldn't explain it. Usually smalltalk annoyed him but something about this was nice to him. You and Miriam seemed to have a tight bond.

"We should go, it does look like it'll rain." You said, peaking out a window. Kaz nodded but Miriam held her hand up before handing you and Kaz paper bags.

"For the road." She told the both of you. You gave her a kind smile before walking back to the door. "One moment Mister Brekker." She halted. Kaz turned around as Miriam motioned for him to lean forward for them to whisper. "Keep her safe, will you? There's not many a good person in Ketterdam but she's one of them." She said.

Kaz with possibly the sweetest look of adoration he could muster simply said "I will, Miss Miriam." Before he followed you out. The two of you began your trek back to the Slat. "How long have you known Miriam?" Kaz asked.

"Going on ten years now. Saved her cat from a town fire, she's been grateful since." You said, opening the paperbag and pulling a cookie out. Miriam gave you both cookies. Maybe Miriam was just a village grandma.

"Has any of the others met her?" He asked.

You shook your head. "You'd be the first I've shown to the Archive." You said.

"Why me?" Kaz asked as a crack of thunder sounded off.

"Because you asked me about what I read." You said before walking into the Slat.

Kaz winded up spending a good week reading that book. You were right, it was an amazing story. When he finished, he had that same urge that you did to discuss it.

All of the crows were back in the club, this time Kaz and you both playing a round of poker. Jesper hated this. You were way too good at poker and kept winning, hand after hand. You had a nice stack of chips. Inej seeing your smirk as you leaned back in your chair.

"I win again!" You said.

"Why is this so hard?" Wylan asked.

"Because Y/n is way too good at this." Jesper groaned, smacking his head on the table. Nina sighed.

"I need a drink. A very large one." She said.

"I've got my own little army of chips." You said, stacking them.

"You could rebuild the Cousland estate with your winnings." Kaz said, you looking up slightly shocked. "Course, I could always pull a Howe and, y'know. Knock it down." Kaz added.

You looked bewildered as Inej rose a brow.

"Kay, is it just me, or did none of that make sense?" Jesper asked.

"You just made a reference." You said.

"I did." Kaz nodded.

"You finished it."

"I did."

"And!?"

"You were right. The book is fantastic, I could not put it down." Kaz said.

Inej and Jesper exchanged a look.

"Fuck poker. We need to discuss the book NOW!" You said excitedly.

"Yes! Put me out of my misery!" Jesper said.

Kaz looked at him and then you. "Let's have tea." He suggest. Nina's eyes went wide as she realized what was happening before her, her looking at Inej who had a smile on her face.

"I'm grabbing my coat! Let's go!" You said getting up. Kaz followed you as you practically bounced out the door with excitement.

Nina gaped. "How long has he been in love with her!?" She asked as the door closed.

"Oh a while now, like since she got back." Wylan shrugged.

Jesper and Inej looked at Wylan as he moved your chips.

"You knew?" Inej asked.

"It'd take a blind man not to see."

You ended up back at the Slat, sitting cross legged on your sofa. You two must've discussed the book for hours, Kaz loving every moment of it as he heard you passionately talk about the story.

You sighed with a smile. "It's funny, I didn't think you liked me." You said, looking at your empty tea cup.

Kaz rose a brow. "Why did you think that?" He asked.

"You just seemed so... I dunno. Angry that I returned." You said.

"I wasn't."

"But you seemed it."

"I didn't know who you were. I was on my guard" he said. You rose a brow.

"You're not anymore?" You asked. Kaz bared a gentle expression that made your heart almost explode inside your chest.

"I'm not. You're one of the few I trust. The only I'd trust with my entire being." He said. Kaz didn't have faith in a lot of things. But he had faith in you and it showed. He looked at you. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

You gave him a look of pure adoration. "Of course." You said. You had spent your life reading books about the greatest romances of all time. You'd get lost in those stories of how the man always loved the girl but she didn't realize it until a pivotal moment.

"Kaz... you said you trusted me." You breathed. "Please. Please let my intuition be right." You thought to yourself as Kaz gave you a questioning look. "Do you... love me?"

Your question hung in the air for what felt like the longest minute of your life. Kaz definitely seemed caught way off his guard by the question, his eyes widening the second he realized what was happening.

This entire time he has been hoping for an opening to talk to you. A moment to truly get to know you. Well he got one. And he fell in love with every bit of you. He swallowed hard.

"Forget that I asked, I am so sorr-" "I do." He said.

You blinked. "What?"

"I love you." He said. Your jaw must've hit the floor. You knew how guarded this man was. You heard that any semblance of vulnerability was practically impossible from Kaz and yet here he was. Being the most vulnerable he could be with you.

You looked at him before getting up. He thought his words might've done something bad. Maybe you didn't want his love. Maybe he had misinterpreted everything, maybe he was a fool for thinking there was-

You kneeled in front of him. "Kaz, may... Uhm... May I touch you?" You asked. With hesitation he nodded as your hand gently held his cheek. The touch of humans was deeply unsettling to Kaz. That feeling brought him back to a place he never wanted to be in ever again and yet somehow...

Somehow your gentle touch made him feel safe. If it had been anyone else he'd probably be in the process of murdering the fool who touched him. But it was you. You were like an angel on earth to him.

"When I look at you, do you know what I see?" You asked softly.

"No." He muttered.

"I see someone else who's been through hell and came out on the other side." You held his hands, Kaz looking in your eyes. "We've suffered long enough and we deserve to be happy." You said softly.

Kaz had a momentary loss of control. He kissed you, you leaning into his touch. He pulled away with wide eyes. "I am so sorry-" "shut up and kiss me Brekker."

The next day you were at the crow club reading at the bar next to Inej. Jesper yawned. "It's a boring day. Wish Kaz would give us something to do. By this point I'll take a fucking b&e." He whined.

Kaz, as if he were summoned, walked through the doors of the crow club, sitting on your other side. For once, Inej watched you put your book down as you gave a gentle smile to Kaz. "Hello" you said.

The dead give away that something had changed was the fact that Kaz smiled. He actually smiled back at you. "Hello." He said softly.

Inej and Jesper swapped shocked looks. "Y/n, do you mind helping me with this? It's a rifle mod and I wanna make sure I've got the measurements right." Wylan asked. You looked over.

"Alright." You said walking off.

Jesper and Inej looked at Kaz who now had a drink in his hand. "What the hell happened last night!?" Jesper asked.

"Nothing important." Kaz shrugged.

"We just had tea."

[pamsimmer]

LUNAR PHASES CHALLENGE

My very first challenge and I'm excited? haha

When I was looking for occults challenge to play I found a lot of witches and vampire type of things, but I don't quite remember seeing a werewolf one.

These three occults are my favorites (unfortunately I kind of ignore the others because you know... meh, not as fun to play with them. But maybe one day I'll try to make a mermaid challenge)

Down here you're gonna find the rules and guidelines for each gen. You don't have to follow strictly the rules if you don't want to, I know it can be annoying sometimes. And also I made it short for those who prefer shorter challenges (like me).

I just hope you have fun!

[edit: a friend made the graphic rules and it looks amazing. if you prefer it like this: HERE]

Rules:

You must reside only in the occults’s worlds, but preferably in Moonwood Mill (You can always kick your family out and pretend you’re living in another place hehe)

Start as YA, any gender

You can use cheats if you want.

Heir must be a werewolf

Normal or Long Lifespan

You don’t have to max all these skills, but it would be nice if you at least worked on them all your sims lives

When I put ( / ) is because you can choose what you prefer or if you don’t have said pack you can choose the base game one.

Requirements: Werewolves, Snowy Scape, Get Together, Get To Work

GENERATION 1: Waxing Crescent

You grew up close to the Moonwood Collective, they are basically your family and you learned how to be a good sim and not hurt others. You prefer to lock yourself up than to behave like an animal in front of others. You always loved art/writing and your hobby is to play piano. You don’t like the spotlight because of your werewolf tendencies, so you chose a more “reclusive” career.

Traits: Proper/Snob, Bookworm, Good

Aspiration: The Emissary of the Collective

Skills: Charisma, Piano/Painting, Writing

Career: Painter or Writer (It can be the freelance career if you prefer)

Volunteer with family (or alone) at least once a week

Your partner can be any gender, can be human or even another type of occult, as long as the heir is a werewof.

Get married to your partner and never divorce. You two were made for each other

GENERATION 2: Waning Gibbous

Your parents wanted you to be as perfect as they are, but you’re not them. You have your own personality and your own desires. You’re a rebel. You love being a werewolf and you feel powerful when you show others who you are. The only thing you got from your parent was the love for music, but you are more of a guitar type of sim. And you want to be the leader of your own pack.

Traits: Mean, Active, Kleptomaniac

Aspiration: Wildfang Renegade

Skills: Mischief, Fitness, Guitar

Career: Criminal or perform only odd jobs and have a part time job

Meet your friends at the bar every weekend

Have a “fight club” club

Get pregnant/get your girlfriend pregnant as a teen (if your sim is a boy: don’t assume the responsability / if your sim is a girl: give the baby to someone else. you can keep the child close to you if you want to play with them later, in case it’s a werewolf)

Get married as a Young Adult and divorce before become an Adult. You can find love again, but if you don’t, that’s okay. (preferably die alone :)

One day your sims is gonna teach their teen kid (the heir) how to fight. You’re take them to Greg and let them fight Greg… alone.

GENERATION 3: Full Moon

You never got along with your parent. You actually hate them. You prefer to be alone, you’re like a hurt puppy that attacks others who tries to come closer to you. But you’re very sweet on the inside. And finally one day you find the love of your life and you have a beautiful family together.

Traits: Loner, Gloomy, Hot-Headed

Aspiration: Lone Wolf

Skills: Gardening, Handiness, Fishing

Career: Gardner or Fisherman (and perform odd jobs)

If you chose gardner: go fishing every weekend, if you chose fisherman: have a garden

Live off the grid, at least until you get married (after that you can go back to society again if you want to. But it’s not mandatory)

Have at least two kids

GENERATION 4: New Moon

You grew up in a loving family. You have so many plans for your life, but you don’t want to be a werewolf forever. You spent your teenager years reading werewolf books and you got the Lunar Epiphany and learned how to make the cure. Maybe you’re the one who breaks the family’s curse, right? and you want to be a super parent because your own parent inspired you.

Traits: Genius, Family-Oriented, Loyal

Aspiration: Cure Seeker

Skills: Logic, Parenting, Baking/Gourmet Cooking

Career: Doctor/Astrounaut

Find love when you are already a human and be the best parent you can be!

Go out on dates at least once a week with your partner, and when you have a child go out at least once a week with your family.

[mirrored-movements]

Home Pt. 2

(Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader)

Synopsis: You've always had the ability to travel through universes, there was never a reason as to why and you never paused to question it. However, there was someone else who began to question it.

Warnings: Obsessive behavior? Horrible writing probably <3

Part 1 Here

“And you’re 100% sure you’re qualified to do all of this?” Finding yourself seated on a medical chair with the sleeve of your arm rolled up and a tension banned wrapped around your forearm, you stared at Miguel wearily.

Over the past few days, you’d been stuck with the man going through some tests in order to determine your ‘danger level’. Most of them unfortunately coming out inconclusive leading the man to declare that he needed a blood sample.

“How many times do I have to tell you- I am qualified.” Rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh Miguel shook his head, one hand holding an alcohol wipe while the other readied a needle.

Rolling your own eyes in a mockery you let out a huff. “Qualified with what though? I’ve been stuck in your presence for almost a week now and I barely know anything about you. What happened to some small talk or something?”

His head shook from side to side once more, the man merely humming to signify he was somewhat listening all the while taking a quick blood sample. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you; you seemed like an outgoing person, and got along with most of the people that happen to stumble across you within the HQ.

It was just the fact that he didn’t know if you were an anomaly or not and didn’t want to risk getting attached nor risk the multiverse.

He couldn’t go through any of that again.

“Well, what exactly do you want to know? I might feel obliged to humour you.” Pulling away from your arms and passing you a small bandaid, Miguel twisted around to set the vial of blood into a centrifuge. His gaze flickered towards you from the side awaiting whatever your little mind might come up with.

As if not expecting this response you hesitated for a second, suddenly every question you had before left your brain and only one stupidly basic one remained. “What's your favorite colour?”

Blinking almost dumbfounded at the simple question he fully turned to face you, mind wondering why out of everything you could’ve asked that you asked that.

“I don’t have one.”

“What about favorite animal?”

“No.”

“Favorite season?”

“None.”

“Are you just going to say no to all my questions or are you going to answer one of them?” Finding that he wasn’t answering anything no matter how simple you crossed your arms with a disgruntled huff.

Seeing the way you grew annoyed with his replies Miguel's lips barely quirked up, one of his thick brows raising. “Well, are you going to ask any actual questions?” Retorting back with that he then rose up from his seat, eyes remaining fixed to where you sat.

“Ok fine, if you weren’t bitten by a spider how come you’re still a Spiderman?”

“I’m not answering that.” Taking the vial of blood from the small machine Miguel had to hide his amusement at the way you’d begun complaining. Your smaller form quickly jumping up from your seat to begin berating him trying to come to a conclusion to your own question.

“But you said-” “I said I might feel obliged.”

“So you were never going to answer in the first place?!” Gasping dramatically at the realization you laughed in disbelief at the sort of sneaky smirk that’d curled across the man's face.

Maybe there was a reason you’d gotten mixed up in all this multiverse madness.

--

“Lyla,” Calling out to his AI, Miguel awaited her appearance. The holographic image right away questioned him on what he needed. “Check in on (Y/N).” The command was simple to follow, and despite the small teasing from the AI a screen had popped up before her.

“Mm looks like she’s chatting with some people.” Musing that out Lyla bobbed her head, her small form flickering to the side as Miguel peered over at the screen. A part of him wondered who you’d found yourself talking with.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the sight of Ben leaning over a pillar dramatically, whatever being said presumably incoherent as yourself and the form of Peter both shared a look before bursting into laughter.

His chest rumbled.

“Lyla, assign those two to a mission.”

Looking over at the man with a brow raised she made a pop noise with her lips. “There are no missions curr-” “Make something then. Tell them to investigate something or someone or just- do something.” His hand waved through the air as he spoke, “And tell (Y/N) to come here.”

“Roger that.”

Watching the small hologram fade away he let out a breath, tongue running across the elongated canines within his mouth before another huff left him. Heavy steps bringing him back over towards the microscope he’d been occupied with for the past few hours.

Eyes peaking through it once more at the sample that rested below, watching the small cells dance around. The genetic makeup of them seemingly assimilating with the atmosphere around them, matching with the structure of those from that universe.

It was a breakthrough in his opinion.

A serendipitous breakthrough.

--

“Damn room is always so damn dark.” Stepping into the room that housed Miguel's strange floating office you grumbled under your breath about the lack of light, eyes struggling to adjust to it. “You know ambient lighting is a thing.”

“The light hurts my eyes.”

Practically jumping out of your skin at the sudden appearance of the hulking man you let out a forced laugh. “Does that have to do with your spider bite-less Spiderman abilities or something?” 

“It does actually.” Without skipping a beat Miguel clicked his tongue, gaze drifting across the plain look stretched out across your face at the response, it looked like you hadn’t expected it either.

“Oh, ok thats, thats something I guess.” Clasping your hands together you nodded your head, praying that your face gave off the ‘what did you call me here for’ look.

To be honest, you didn’t mind Miguel. He was very intimidating upon your first meeting however it seemed like as the testing progressed and you were stuck with him for a while he seemed to loosen up. As much as he could at least, there were still some things that freaked you out a bit.

Such as the way he could just appear out of nowhere and scare the literal soul of of you as well as his temper. You’ve only seen it once since being at HQ, it was short but nearly ingrained into your brain as in that moment you’d come to find that perhaps he was more spider like- then the spider-people.

Fangs. He had fangs is what you meant, and claws- you think.

“You shouldn’t socialize too much with everyone here. They might question why a civilian is here.” Chiding that in absentmindedly he outstretched one of his arms towards the floating platform, a practically glowing web being shot from a device around his wrist allowing him to gain access to it.

Blinking at what he’d said then what he did you opened your mouth to speak only to shut it right after as that same glowing web shot down attaching to the front of your shirt. With a short yell in surprise, you were whisked onto the platform, Miguel's hands planting onto your shoulder to steady you as soon as you’d landed.

“A little warning would’ve been nice.”

“I’m going to swing you onto the platform.”

Giving him an ‘Are you serious’ look you’d dropped it rather quickly. He seemed different compared to when the last time you both chatted. More…willing to speak and joke around with you if that makes sense.

Before he seemed to keep you at arms reach but now it felt like he was trying to make up for lost time.

“Ok well we’re on the platform now, what did you want to show me? Or why did you need me.” Somewhat growing anxious with the sudden silence you watched him press a few things against a glowing orange keyboard, a pair of large circles popping up. 

“Do you know what these are?”

Starring at the two things your brows furrowed. “I don’t know a cow pattern?”

“This one,” He pointed towards the one on the right, “Is from your average day civilian. This one,” the other one was pointed to. “Is from you. Notice any difference?”

“Yes?” He gave you an incredulous look and you corrected your response. “No, I don’t.”

“Exactly. From this, we know you’re not an anomaly.”

Perking up at this you stared at him in disbelief, heart beginning to race a little at the prospect of being allowed to leave. “So does that mean I can go home now? That we’re done testing?”

He didn’t quite like that implication.

“You are home.” Seeing the way your hands fell back to your sides he added on as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “This is the average citizen from here, Earth-928 and, your genetic code- this here,” He motioned back towards your circle. “Matches here.”

“Whatever home you had is here now. You belong here, it is set in stone.” There was no way he was going to mention how your code blends in with whatever universe you found yourself in.

Why go somewhere else, when you could stay there?

Blinking while trying to process what he was saying you began to shake your head in disbelief. “Well, your data is wrong then. I wasn’t born here, so I can’t stay here.” Stepping back you shook your head at him, mind still trying to wrap around this. “You said I’m not an anomaly so I can just continue to do what I was doing before coming here.”

“But what if you leave here and then become an anomaly? What happens then? It is proven that breaking what is meant to happen ruins worlds.”

“Now you’re just trying to psyche me out. I know I don’t belong here Miguel, whatever tests you did are wrong.”

Clicking his tongue he watched you carefully, eyes sharp, almost predatory now compared to how you recalled them being. However, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, you can go.”

“But do you even know where home is?”

Your mind paused at this, unwilling to quite process what he’d said. You’d been traveling around for so long- did you remember where you lived? Was there ever actually a place you called home or was that something you made up in a sort of last-ditch effort to seek self-comfort?

But, despite all that- you surely weren’t going to be stuck in one place. That’s not how you did things.

“I’m sure I can manage.” Choosing your words carefully noting how Miguel had become ridged you felt as though it was in your best interest to open a portal. “It was nice to meet you, Miguel.”

“You get lonely traveling around.” Once more he spoke, hand leaning out to press a key on the keyboard, your voice playing through some speakers of a conversation you’d had with Peter on one of a few occasions. Maydays father becoming some sort of comforting face you found yourself returning to for advice- despite his advice being close to unusable. “Never fitting in. People alienating you. Seems like you’ve had more fun and made more friends here than, say the hundreds of dimensions you’ve been to.”

“Am I correct?”

“Why are you suddenly so interested in everything? You weren’t like this the first time I came here.”

“I didn’t know if you were going to be stable here. But now I do.” Whatever was running through his mind left him letting out another breath. “And I know where you belong now. All this time, all these portals- led you here.”

“To me.”

Stunned. Shocked. Confused. Speechless.

Those were only a few words you could use to describe how you were currently feeling. Just an overall ‘What?’ could sum up everything. 

“Miguel,” Raising a hand as though you were trying to tame some sort of wild animal you sucked in a breath. “I barely know you. You barely know me. We barely know each other.”

Taking a step the man hummed nodding along, something you previously took as a friendly manner now seemingly less friendly and more of a way to keep him from lashing out. “Then we get to know each other. It’s not too late.”

“It’s never too late.” Despite his tone sounding hopeful, the look he gave sent your nerves buzzing, a hidden challenge almost. Cocoa hues flickering a ruby hue the longer you seemed to remain silent- say something.

Seeing that you weren’t answering Miguel glanced up at the ceiling, the last bit of his patience wearing thin- not that it was very big, to begin with. “I’ll give you a head start,” A step forward from him was a step back for you, the airy laughs leaving him sounding hollow. “You can go anywhere you want, any dimension. But if you can’t find where your ‘home’ is by the end of the day?”

“I’ll come and get you. And bring you home.”

----------------

<Unedited again>

Casually wrote the three things on my account in one day <3 anyways if you have any issues with my writing or anything, sue me IG idk.

Anyways lemme know if you want a part 3- I might feel inclined to write more for my lovely lovely Miguel <3

[d0p3ys-delusions]

Zeyko

zeyko [zɛj.ˈk·o] vtr. heal, fix

Pairing: Aged up!Neteyam(20) x Omatikaya!FemReader(19)

Word Count: 2.8k Started: 20.7.23 Finished: 21.7.23

Synopsis: reader who is found as a child in her dead mother's arms is taken in by the Omatikaya, Mo'at raising her to be a strong healer. She's reserved to her own duties as a healer, similar to how Neteyam is always doing his duties of a warrior and as the next Olo'eyktan. After scavenging for a medicinal root, they have a heart-to-heart which led to their unspoken feelings get out.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of death.

a/n: hiii :) this is the first time I have written a one-shot and decided to upload it on here. I used to write religiously but second guess myself and end up taking it down. I hope you enjoy :) ♡

Word Index: palulukan- thanator, carnivorous hexapedal animal ; ar'lek seeds- medinical plant ; lortsya- shimmyfly, similar to Earth's butterfly ; kelku- house ; 'evi- child (affectionate) ; sa'nok- mother ; sanhì- bioluminescent freckles ; uniltaron- dream hunt, final passage of becoming an adult ; paskalin- sweet berry (term of endearment)

Your first memory is of your mother. Your mother who held you in your arms as her back was abused by the claws of a palulukan. Covering you with her chest and the ground. Her eyes squeezed together from the pain. Up until the moment the vicious thanator left. Your mother who still didn’t let you go as she rest against a tree, singing her songcord until the moment she left to the ancestors.

.˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

You jumped down off your Ikran, Sya, named after how you noticed her wings resembled those of a lortsya, running your hand down her head, “tam tam…” [there, there]

You smiled at her before leaving her be with the other idle ikran. Humming, you looked down and opened your woven basket slung around your shoulders to see the red medicinal plant the Tsahik had requested you’d look for. Finding them intact you start to walk away to the Tsahik’s kelku.

You walk in, bringing your hand to your forehead and bringing it down, “I see you Tsahik…” She’s treating a wounded na’vi and quickly says your name. You set down your basket next to her. “I brought the ar’lek seeds,” You smile and gently take the ointment in her hand to take her place, “along with some yalna bark and sari seeds.” 

“Good, thank you, ‘evi.” She rushes to another na’vi waiting to be treated, “Kiri would enjoy the sari seeds.” Nodding you spread the ointment on the female na’vi’s back. 

“Would you like me to prepare the yalna bark after?” As you said that, Kiri alongside her brothers and sister walk in. Your gaze lingers on the elder of the four before quickly looking down at the Na’vi’s back, ears tilted slightly down. “Where else are you wounded…” You ask the Na’vi quietly. She pointed to her shin, so you bent in front of her to put ointment there also. The na’vi seemed younger than you, thirteen maybe, you smiled and looked up at her, “okay… parultsyìp, you could go back to your sa’nok.” She smiled and hops up, quickly leaving afterwards.

Standing up you pick up your basket and grab the yalna bark, Kiri says your name, “is that yalna bark?” Kiri walks towards you and rests a hand on your shoulder, “see grandmother, even your greatest healer thinks yalna bark is better.” You chuckle and begin preparing the yalna bark ointment. 

“It stings less…” You say softly and smile. You and Kiri grew close together from working with the Tsahik and the other healers. Kiri is what you would say warm grass feels, comforting. When they found you as a child the Tsahik took responsibility on you, with Kiri being close to her grandmother, naturally you would become friends, sisters even. 

Not remembering that day well enough Mo’at reminds you how Ewya brought you to her, to the Omatikaya, seeing a woodspite hover over you. You who just held your mother’s songcord close to your chest.

“I am Tsahik, once someone else takes my place it’ll be decided.” Mo’at says while treating the other Na’vi.

Lo’ak chuckles and shakes his head, “Unless Neteyam here finds a mate, it’s going to be a long time Grandma, stay comfortable.” Lo’ak says before being harshly elbowed by his brother. “What! The mighty warrior is the one becoming Olo’eyktan.” Your ears twitch up and you listen to their conversation.

“Stop it– brother.” Neteyam spits out and glances at you, still focusing on making the ointment, not noticing his glance. Tuk sits behind Neteyam and rebraids some of the strands that got unraveled.

“Mama said you don’t want to look for a mate because of–” Tuk was quickly caught off by Neteyam putting a hand over her mouth. You look at the pair slyly and tilt your head. “What?” Tuk says questionably not understanding why her brother stopped her. 

For the little memories you have from your childhood, you do remember meeting Neteyam and the rest. You hid behind Mo’at, clutching your mother’s songcord. Despite there being three kids, you thought Neteyam stood out from the rest. Even from the age of five he seemed strong, someone that was destined to become a warrior.

You stood from your spot and placed the yalna ointment away. “Kiri!” Spider came in and smiled, “Let’s go?” Looking at her you grab her hand gently.

“I thought we were going to loom bracelets…” Kiri looked at you apologetically and held your hand.

“I know, I know,” She looked down and then at Neteyam, “I forgot I promised Spider to go exploring with him and Lo’ak.” Nodding you let go of  her hand. “See you later.” She smiled sweetly and left with the two boys behind her trail.

Glancing at Neteyam quickly, the balls of your feet shifted, nervous on what to do next. “‘Ite,” You look at Mo’at, “we might need… some octoshroom root.” Your head shifts to the shelves looking for the root but are unable to find some. 

Sighing, you pick up your basket and sling it around your shoulder, “Seems we’re out, I’ll go get some Tsahik.”

About to leave you were stopped by Neteyam, “I’ll go with you, I have no other duties today.” Your eyebrows rose, you hugged your waist, you were hesitant to answer. 

“Yes, yes now go.” Mo’at waved you guys off. You reluctantly walked beside Neteyam heading to your ikrans. Your gaze kept on the ground while Neteyam looked at you slyly.

Thinking for a moment Neteyam scratches his head, “Kiri has said you’ve grown to be a great healer.” You both reach your ikrans.

“Sya…” You pet your sister and smile, “You have grown to be a great warrior…” Neteyam chuckles and nods, petting his own ikran.

“Grandmother seems to adore you, everyones does.” You look at him and blush slightly, your tail swishes behind you. You jump onto Sya, grabbing your kuru, you make tsaheylu with her. “Ready?’ Neteyam smiles on his ikran. 

Setting off, you Neteyam began to descend off High Camp. Your braids move from the wind, your eyes fall on the other ikran flying in groups. Neteyam ululates and you chuckle, your ikrans fly beside each other and go in a twirl motion. Your smile is wide and Neteyam's gaze stays on you. 

Getting absorbed in the moment you whoop along with him. Your ikrans roar seemingly with you, happy with the moment as well. You and Neteyam fly down on a hallelujah mountain, sitting on your ikrans and watching the sky.

Sighing, you look at Neteyam “We should go find the octoshroom…” Neteyam nods and you both bring your ikrans down near an opening of the forest. Neteyam shortly settles beside you. You jump off Sya and give her a small snack. “Sìltsan, Sya, tam tam.” You talk to her affectionately. [Well done][calm]

All the while Neteyam watches you curiously. “What's the octoshroom for?” You give Sya a quick command to be alert for your call. 

Neteyam follows you into the dimming forest, your sanhì glowing, “anti-venom… helps the stings of a slinger and other animals,” finding the tall fungi you crouch down to extract the root, “when grinded to a tea it remedies the affects.” Neteyam hums and crouches beside you.

He grabs his knife, “what am I looking for.” 

You glance at him, “We need to dig around the base first,” you both start digging, “then this root… here” point at the dark colored root, “and just carefully extract the root with your knife.” You set your basket in between the two of you. You smile slightly seeing how Neteyam is focused on getting the root.

You think about to the conversion Neteyam had with his siblings earlier, “how come you haven’t looked for a mate?” You grab some root and set it inside the basket, “your iknimaya and uniltaron went well did it not?” After na’vi go through their rites of passage it’s common for them to look for a mate aftwards. 

Neteyam looks at you, “what about you? You also haven’t looked for a mate.” You chuckle nervously, setting some root in the basket. 

“Other na’vi think I’m strange,” you think to your unknown origins, “Not knowing where I come sets me behind some bit. But you– you are the next Olo’eyktan, eldest son of the mighty Toruk Makto, you should hear the girls in mine and Kiri’s weaving class. They’re crazy for you.” You shake your head, “Some of them even make courting gifts.” You chuckle thinking of the girls making the gifts.

Neteyam sheepishly smiles, “I bet you’ve been given some courting gifts.” He says with his heart slightly beating faster.

Humming you shook your head, “Once, Rey’aw gave a necklace, I think Rolä courted him at the same time though.”

Neteyam blinks and sets the last portion of root in the basket, “Were you going to accept?” He asked nervously.

“No, I gave him the necklace back after finding out, they’re happily mated as you know,” you chuckle and think to their little boy, “Their boy is almost a year old now.” Neteyam sighs in relief knowing that you weren’t going to accept Rey’aw’s courting.

You look at the basket and shake it to see how much root is in, content with the amount you stand up, tucking a braid behind your ear. “So? The mighty warrior hasn’t gotten any courting gifts?” 

Neteyam stands up and bird calls for his ikran, you do the same, “No–no yeah I have,” biting your lip slightly at his answer you feel your chest tighten. Your eyebrows furrow when you don’t see Sya. “Where's your ikran?”

You stand up straighter and look around, doing your bird call again you still don’t hear the familiar roar of your ikran. “Sya!” You look at Neteyam and he quickly hops on his ikran.

“Come on…” He holds his hand out and you take it and sit behind him. “She must be back where we left them, sleeping.” You squint your eyes down on the ground seeing no sign your ikran, “She’s okay, she’s okay.” Neteyam tried to reassure you.

Memories of your mother surfacing. Your eyes shifted to every bark on trees, every blade of grass. Your ears twitched, listening to the chirps of the birds. 

You tilt your head, eyes squinting some more when you see the recognizable blue wings, you tap Neteyam’s shoulder and point down, “Neteyam!”

You practically jump off his ikran before he even landed, “Sya!” You rush towards your ikran, immediately noticing the gashes on her body. “Sya…” You say soft and cradle her head. “What…” Tears welled in your eyes, Sya tried to lift her head as best she can onto your lap. “What happened?” You look into her eyes and rest your forehead onto her body.

Neteyam watches, looking at his own ikran before looking around, his bow in hand.

Your thoughts went back to your first memory, to the unforgettable gashes of a palulukan. Working as a healer you’ve seen these wounds dozens of times after your mother. You felt your throat close up, a sob seeping through, “Neteyam…” He hesitates and sits next to you, “Wha– I don’t understand.” Your shoulders shake, “why didn’t she fly away…” Seeing the tears in your eyes, Neteyam wraps an arm around your shoulders. His eyes shift to Sya’s wings, taking a deep breath when he notices the state of her wings. 

He says your name softly, his ears are pointed down, “They– they might come back,” you shake your head, “come on…” 

“No,” you sob out and shake your head. Sya looks up at you weakly, eyes reflecting your own, you release a heavy breath and rest your head against her again. Closing your eyes you think back to your mother again. She sang beautifully to lure you to sleep. You start to hum and sing your mother’s songcord to Sya. Neteyam’s ear perk from earring the unfamiliar song. He stares at your face, his hand resting on your back. Trying to comfort you as best as he can.

The next few moments were fuzzy. You finished singing to Sya as she joined the ancestors, Neteyam gently grabs a claw and scale of her wings, putting it in your basket. All remember grabbing a stone that resembles her wings and Neteyam leading you to his ikran to fly back to High Camp. 

Neteyam was the one to bring his grandmother the octoshroom root, telling her what happened. Kiri and Lo’ak were back from their adventure, hearing the news also. 

Walking back to your kelku seemed like a chore. Your body felt heavy as you walked, quiet sobs leaving when he reached your room, collapsing onto your hammock.

Kiri rushed to your home with Neteyam and Lo’ak. You were still on your hammock, just looking at the wall not making a noise. Kiri says your name softly, “Sister…” She sits beside and rests her hand on her shoulder, “We heard what happened.” You blink back the tears from her words. “I’m sure Sya is with Eywa now, with your mother...”

Getting close to the Sully kids of course came to telling them what happened to your mother. Knowing how close Kiri is to Eywa and her biological mother Grace, you listen to her words closely, trusting on what she says. “I bet she’s also with my mother’s ikran Seze,” Lo’ak add in. 

You sit up and look up weakly, your eyes swollen from crying. Your lip shakes and you hug Kiri, feeling the sobs come back, Kiri rubs your back affectionately. “I’m so sorry sister.” Her eyebrows furrow and rock you both in comfort.

Sniffing, you pull away and grab your Songcord, it contains a rock you picked up when your mother died, when you first met the Omatikaya people, and taming Sya, all the moments in your life that made you who you are. Sighing you grab the stone you grabbed earlier, your hand shook so Kiri gently took it to help you tie it to your songcord. Neteyam and Lo’ak sat next together, watching you and Kiri quietly. 

Once the rock was tied to your songcord you rub over the stones. “Thank you guys…” Kiri smiles and holds your hand. You look at Neteyam and look back down, “you don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine.” 

Lo’ak shakes his head, “We could stay sis,” You smile at him.

“I’m alright,” Kiri goes to say something but you beat her to it, “really.” You try to reassure them. They hesitate but leave together. Netetam pauses and looks back at you, “Thank you Neteyam.” He nods and catches up with his siblings.

You’re not sure how long had passed, you were focused on making a necklace out of Sya’s claw and scale, looming it to have her blue colors. You hear a quick whistle and look up to find Neteyam, “hi,” you look back down to the necklace, “come in.”

He sits by you, placing down a bowl of sari seeds, “Kiri toasted some earlier.” He looked at the necklace and ran a finger down the intricate design you were weaving. “Looks good,” he smiles, “the mighty healer is also a mighty weaver.” 

You chuckle and shake your head, “that’s just– stupid,” you jokingly say. “You know my mother had a beautiful voice.” You smile, “She could sing anything and it’ll manage to make me sleep. Even…” You take a deep breath, “Even as she was passing she sang to me.” 

Neteyam looks at you and grabs your hand, saying your name, “Strong heart.” Rubbing his thumb over your hand, “in the tales mother tells us when she met my father, she saw he had a strong heart.” He looks in your eyes, his tail swishing. “When the sky people came back, dad said she had a strong heart.” He repeats your name softly, “You have a strong heart.” Your eyebrows furrow, tearing welling in your eyes, “From the first time I saw you, I saw your strong heart.” A tear fell and you looked down.

Taking a deep breath Neteyam opens his pouch, pulling out a bracelet, “Kiri helped me make this…” He says your name, you look at him and tilt your head, “I–I asked grandmother if I could court you.” Your heart quickened, “I know she’s not your mother but– she took responsibility and felt it was best to ask still.” You gulp and blink at Neteyam, “would you accept my gift, paskalin?” 

Some stray tears fell down your cheeks, smiling you nod your head, “Yes,” you laugh sheepishly, “yes, Neteyam, I will accept your gift.” Neteyam smiles widely, he grabs your wrist and ties the bracelet around your wrist. You chuckle thinking about the event of today, “Courting me the day Sya died… Classic Neteyam.” You both laugh and rest your foreheads against each other.

[ataraxiaspainting]

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.

[auteurdelabre]

So Much to Lose (series) Part 1

Series summary: Newly settled into Jackson city and forced to go on patrols with the miserable Joel Miller sets off a chain of events and encounters that have you questioning everything, including your own heart.

Rating: 18+

pairings: Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie x Dina

Series warnings: set during outbreak, guns, Mean!Joel, eventual rough sex (specific tags that comes up) no use of Y/N or detailed physical descriptions.  

Patrols were never your thing. You'd thought them more for the super athletic, the expert marksmen, the naturally ruthless. 

You were a decent shot. Nothing to write home about. You'd shot animals when you were starving and on the run. 

But patrolling the walls of Jackson City was always someone else's gig. Something for people not as "soft". 

So when Maria told you that your name was on the roster for that month you'd been surprised. 

"But I'm always on kitchen duty."

"We have new folks coming into Jackson," Maria explained, her tone brusque and her eyes weary. "None of them have weaponry experience. You do."

"Barely.

"Barely's better than nothing."

Then she'd moved from you, obviously busy with a myriad of planning and scheduling. You watched her leave, her hand resting over her swollen belly. 

You were relatively new to Jackson City, barely six months living behind its sheltered walls. You didn't feel you had earned the right to disagree with Maria or to challenge her ideas.

You've stayed close to home since you're arrival, still not quite used to the life that bustled around you in the market or the dances (real dances!) in the church hall. You don't have friends here yet despite your natural propensity to others. You smile and you greet when faces pass you in the street, but your home is where it's safe. 

You suppose this is why you enjoy kitchen duty. Moving around large groups of people, overhearing snatches of conversation of laughter of warmth, but always on the perimeter. Always watching, never engaging on the edges. 

Maybe you are more naturally suited for patrols than you originally thought.  

But not with weaponry. Shooting your old decommissioned gun is one thing. Using the heavy weapons you see being touted on the broad backs of those heading off on patrol is quite another. 

When you see Tommy, one of the nicest people you know (and Maria's husband), walking by your place later that week you hasten to catch up with him. 

"It's been years since I shot anything," you explain with a concerned saddle of your brows as you explain Maria's plan for you. "And back then it was only rabbits and deer. Can you just come over and give me some pointers?"

"Can't. Got lots to do to prep for the baby."

Of course, the baby, due any day. The reason for Maria's desperate need to schedule the coming months, and the weary pull of Tommy's eyes as he looks at you. 

"But I'll find someone and send em over," Tommy adds when he sees the terror cross your features.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll have your patrol partner come and give you some help tomorrow afternoon. We usually team up the newbies with the more experienced marksman anyway. I'll check with Maria and see who you're paired up with."

Relief blooms in your chest at this. This is the kind of news that you have been hoping for. 

The thought that the safety and survival of others would depend solely on you or come down on your shoulders had been making you sick. 

"Great."

///

You made cookies. 

For whatever reason that had felt like the appropriate response to having someone come over and teach you how to properly shoot a gun.

This person, your patrol partner, will be the first to enter your home since you moved in. Maria and Tommy had been there, explaining the expectations of you in the community and showing you the simple one bedroom home that would be yours. All you'd been able to think over and over as they spoke was: a bed of my own. I don't have to share. 

Your place is humble but clean. You've tossed around the idea of painting the walls themselves but you don't. That feels too permanent and you've not known the security of stability in decades. It sits uneasily on your shoulders like a too-heavy jacket. 

There's a knock at your door and you open it to reveal a tall man with broad shoulders and remarkably expressive eyes. His mouth is set uneasily, as if he's trying to remember what it is to talk. 

"You the one that needed gun lessons?"

He's wearing a dark green jacket and on his back is a collection of shotguns that you find intimidating just looking at.  

"That's me," you chirp, moving back so he can enter into your home. You introduce yourself, a bit surprised at how the broad man stays hanging by the door. 

"Joel," he mutters when you prompt him for his name. "Let's do this outside."

"Sure," you say going to grab your jacket from its hook by the door. "Oh, but did you want a cookie first? I made some."

Joel stares at you for a moment, trying to gauge if you're serious. When he sees you are, he blinks and then starts to walk around to the stretch of greenery near your place. 

You follow after him, pulling on your jacket and jogging to keep up.  

"Hey Miller," someone calls out from the street and you look over at him in surprise. Joel gives them a small wave and keeps walking. 

Miller. Like Tommy and Maria Miller?

"Are you Tommy's brother?"

"Guilty." 

Joel walks quickly, his legs scissoring rapidly across the fallen leaves of the cool winter day and easily outpacing you. 

Cute, you think, watching his body lope away from you. Intense but cute.

///

Around the five minute mark you realize that no, Joel isn't intense or cute. 

He's just a fucking asshole. 

He's impatient and grouchy and even though you're trying your hardest to follow instructions you're failing miserably because he is so intimidating. 

"You need to familiarize yourself with your weapon," he tells you, brandishing the shotgun and handing it to you. It's heavy in your palms, surprising you. 

You grip it loosely, twisting it in your hand to aim at the ground. As you do this, the barrel of the gun swings in his direction. 

"Are you insane?" Joel barks, slapping the nozzle away from his direction. "Have you never held a fucking shotgun before?"

He'd been so quiet before that the loud boom of his voice startles you. You take a step back without thinking, sure to keep your barrel pointed at the ground. 

You don't bother telling him that no, you've never held a shotgun. You have a feeling that would just piss him off more. 

It doesn't get better after that. 

"How did they put you on patrols with aim like that?"

You scowl, bringing the gun up to your shoulders to brace. You begin to count as you aim at the tin cans Joel set up. You've hit one out of the six. You attribute much of this to the tall man pacing back and forth behind you as you try to focus. But he terrifies you, and you feel compelled to keep him in the corner your sights until he pauses and you can focus again. 

You stare at the dented soup cans resting on the fence post away from you. You can almost hear Dev's soft voice in your ear. The calming sooth of his tone. 

"Count if it helps...shoot on three."

"One... two..." you mutter under your breath.

"You're not gonna have time to count when a clicker's coming for your throat," Joel instructs you. "You have to be instinctual. Gotta move fast."

He kicks at your ankles, broadening your stance. You flinch at the pain of his boot against your ankle bone. 

"You should be wearin' boots," Joel instructs when he sees you wince in pain. "Sneakers are no good."

"Obviously I would wear boots on patrol," you seethe. "I just figured for practice-"

"You should be wearing what you'll be patrolling in. Don't wear that scarf either." 

You pause, looking down to see just your dark blue jacket. "What scarf?"

Joel pauses. "That red one I saw hangin' in your house. It's bright. You'll stand out."

You frown before raising the gun to brace snugly against your shoulder. 

For the next hour Joel's voice reaches out, punctuating the air with bits of aggressive sounding advice as you fumble. 

"Non-firing hand on the hand stock."

"Finger on the stock behind the trigger guard with the rest of your fingers."

"Cheek tight to the stock."

It's after the third time Joel mutters about your firing position being shit and hits his boots against your ankle that you lose it. 

"Enough," you say, placing the gun barrel gently to the ground. "This isn't going to work."

Joel has his arms crossed over his chest and he's watching you from behind a cool gaze.  

"We're a bad match" you explain, your cheeks hot from irritation mingled with embarrassment at having to admit that to him. "You need to be able to trust your partner on patrols and I don't see that happening. We shouldn't be paired up."

"Fine by me."

There's relief in his voice. He doesn't want to be paired up with you any more than you do with him. Good, this will be an easy parting. 

"You can get Tommy to switch us," you say with a frown at the gun laying by your feet in the grass. "He's your brother after all."

"You wanna be moved, you go to Tommy."

"You're saying you don't wanna be moved?"

You're staring at him confused with eyes that widen as Joel approaches you, his gaze tight on yours. 

The toe of his thick boots bump against the tip your sneakers and he tilts his head down, wanting to match your eye level. 

"I'm sayin' you don't tell me what to do," Joel rasps "I'm the one who gives orders. Not you."

Whoa. 

He wasn't saying it to sound alluring, you know that because you can see the genuine irritation in his dark eyes as they bore into yours. And yet, Joel Miller's husky voice informing you that he gives the orders?

It gives you the tingles.

You swallow thickly and when you don't reply right away Joel makes a scoffing noise in his throat. You watch as he gathers the weapons onto his back and marches out of the clearing, desperate to be away from you.

///

"Sounds like it didn't go great with Joel," Tommy says the next morning as he passes you heading for breakfast. 

So much for Joel not talking to Tommy. You slow, matching Tommy's pace as he walks alongside you. 

"Not a good match," you reply lightly. Tommy is Joel's brother and you don't want to offend anyone. "I'm sorry to be a bother and make you have to reschedule."

"S'okay," Tommy says with a shrug. "I'll switch with him for tomorrow night's patrol. I can give you pointers then."

Relief goes through you, making the smile that cracks your features genuine. 

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Tommy insists his face in a smile before it becomes drawn. "I know Joel can be a little hard to handle."

Calling Joel hard to handle suggests he's like one of the wild horses in the pens you sometimes walk by, when in reality Joel Miller is just unpleasant. 

"Yeah, well," you shrug unsure of what to say so you trail off. 

Tommy seems compelled to fill that silence, to explain away his brothers poor social skills. 

"He lost a lot during the outbreak."

You nod, trying to look sympathetic but all you can think is,

Didn't we all?

[no-longer-humin]

Bsd Men reacting to crying when they yelled at you(accidentally)

A/n: Got lectured by my uncle today for something I didn’t do so time to write so shit to cope 🙂

Dazai

Dazai felt bad after seeing the tears silently fall from your eyes as he stopped talking. He had, had a bad day at work and didn’t realize he’d started raising his voice at you. He noticed you were trembling slightly trying not to make a sound. He knew the reason behind this reaction had to do with your past and your childhood.

“Hey, hey I didn’t mean too-” He started trying to place a hand on your shoulder but stopped noticing have you took a small step back fresh tears forming in your eyes. Unsure of what to do Dazai left the room momentarily. Knowing you weren’t one to eat if drink anything when you cried or were done crying he opted to find a comfort item of yours.

He returned shortly after with the item and placed it in front of you. He also grabbed the remote to the television and threw on a show he knew made you laugh. He was trying his best to calm you down and make you feel better and it kind of worked.

You were still tense not feeling super comfortable around the brunette at the moment and he knew that so he left waiting for you to be ready to come to him. Dazai respected your boundaries and that’s what matters.

Atsushi(this man gives off the vibe he doesn’t like being yelled at either)

Atsushi always tried not to yell at others, specifically you. Some people would snap back in a meaner tone, others would ignore him, but something’s people would cry.

So a bad day at work and someone wanting attention when all Atsushi wanted was to rest made him snap. “Just leave me alone would you?!” He yelled before stepping back surprised by his own outburst.

“Oh…yeah sorry I’ll just, I’ll just go,” you muttered in response going to your room while fighting back tears. You closed the door laid on the bed curled into a ball hugging a pillow/stuffed animal and quietly cried.

Due to past experiences you never locked your door no matter what you were doing or if you wanted some privacy. So when Atsushi knocked lightly on your door before entering you quickly sat up wiping your tears away trying ti look as though you hadn’t been crying.

“Are you alright?” Atsushi asked, genuine concern written on his face. You could tell he was sorry for yelling and you nodded even though it wasn’t entirely true. He knew you weren’t ready to talk yet and he nodded before leaving the room.

Atsushi came back with a glass of water setting it down on the nightstand. “Let me know if you need anything else,” he said leaving again. He glanced back at you lying on the bed and sighed before closing the door. He knew he messed up but he would wait until you were ready to trust him again.

Ranpo ⚠️Spoilers for his past if your not there yet⚠️

Ranpo hates getting yelled at just as much as anyone. You know he doesn’t like feeling worthless or useless. However he never was really aware with his tone.

His usual playful, childish personality wasn’t there today. He messed up during a mission and wound up arresting the wrong guy resulting in three more people getting murdered. He felt as though he’d disappointed everyone. He thrives off of praise and doing a good job, so when he didn’t do a good job and therefore no one reacted to him he felt upset.

You asked about how work was that day and he shot you a glare as he stormed off into his room, slamming the door. You could sense that he was angry and you couldn’t tell at what. The general feeling of anger radiating off a person being enough to bring you to tears.

“Ranpo?” You asked slowly opening his door.

“Go away I don’t want to talk to you right now.” His words and aggravated tone hit you like a truck an unsettling feeling forming in your gut as you left the room. Going to your room trying to rid the words from the constant replay in your head as tears slowly formed in your eyes.

Ranpo came to check in you and apologize but that’s when you saw you crying. His eyes widened in shock and he immediately realized he was the reason you were in this state. He tried to apologize but you weren’t ready to trust him yet. You turned away from him curling into a ball hugging your knees to your chest trying to disappear and Ranpo backed off. He knew he couldn’t do anything and just had to wait it out. It took a lot of effort considering how much of an attention weaker Ranpo is but he made it to the next day and you were ready to talk to him again.

A/n pt.2: How the fuck do I write for other characters idk their personalities 😭

[anilovie]

Hii tilly I love your writing sm! I’d really love more shy or innocent reader cause I think he’d be soo sweet with someone like that, if you had any more thoughts! Thanks! 💕

I do have some more thoughts!! these are some more technical headcanons based on his character , but i hope you enjoy!! 💖

CW: fluff

WC: 300

♡ I think he'd be super, extra sweet with you when you first meet because he can tell how nervous he makes you. He doesn't wanna scare you off, so it's like he takes his personality and dials it back tenfold. He never talks down to you, or yells, or even teases you in any way cause he knows you'd take it too literally and get embarrassed and he doesn't want that!!

♡ But once you become more familiar and friendly, he'd let his teasing-side out. He loves to make you squirm and smile all sheepish, get you to the point where you can't even speak, can only mumble bashful little responses he has to strain to hear.

♡ he thinks you're incredibly adorable, the way you get so tongue-tied and awkard around him. you can't even hide it, cause you get all fidgety and jumpy and defensive if anyone calls you out on your odd behavior. you only get this way around him-- because of him.

♡ If you're in a group of people and you start to say something, his eyes are always the first on you. You're a little more soft-spoken than most, so sometimes people don't realize you're speaking; but since Anakin always has eyes on him, people notice who he's listening to. So just turning his attention to you makes people listen to you, too. You never have to worry about going unheard around him -- cuz he'll physically hold a hand up to make people stop talking, all "hold on, hold on, what was that, Y/n?"

♡ Your chest always gets warm and fuzzy cause no matter where you are or what you say, he's listening even if it seems like no one else is. you could mumble something just for yourself, or to no one in particular, but he'll still respond like you were speaking directly to him. You think he's just got superhuman hearing, but really he's just paying attention and hanging on to every word you say.

♡ if you have to meet a new group of people, he slings an arm around your shoulders as he leads you up to them -- it's comfortable and casual, and strangely helps you come out of your shell a little more than if you were standing alone.

♡ i also think he'd get extremely, irrationaly jealous if he saw you talking to other people super animated and excited, cause you rarely let him see that side of you yet. You open up like a flower, and he wishes you could be that way with him.

♡ Ahsoka’s always talking about how “you said this,” and “you said that” and “you’re so funny,” — He wants to laugh at your jokes!!

♡ He wants to hold your pretty face in his hands, and kiss you till you’re breathless, and taste your moans in his mouth. He wants to hear about your day, and brush your hair when you’re too tired, and swipe his thumb over your pulse to see how hard it’s beating. He wants to clean up after your messes and fight the bad guys off of you and pick you and spin you around and pinch your cheeks and tuck you in and wipe your tears and and and —

♡ all that said, i think his patience really gets tested sometimes. Not in a bad way, just in a way that makes him rethink his whole personality and how he approaches things. usually he's an "act now, talk later" type of guy, but with you he has to go slow. So slow. Especially when you finally end up together.

♡ takes you forever just to be able to kiss him, but he never pushes it. he does, however, encourage affection whenever possible because he knows that the more you get used to it, the more comfortable you'll be with him. he butters you up to the point where you're the one asking for his lips, his touch, his honey-sweet words-- He's so open, generous, and giving with you that it makes it impossible to get shy or nervous with him.

♡ Like-- it's sort of hard to get embarrassed about something when he's the one literally begging for it, on his hands and knees for any crumb you could offer him.

♡ I said it once and I'll say it again -- he's got no shame, so the fact that you have enough for the both of you means he's gotta double his efforts to prove how pointless it is. you have absolutely nothing to worry about with him. He's already chosen you.

♡ He's a charming guy. I think he could make anyone feel comfortable around him no matter how shy they are. and i think he secretly loves that you're like that cause he likes to pull your strings and tease you and squish your cheeks when they get all hot and you try to turn away.

♡ he gets some kind of sick satisfaction pushing your buttons just right, to the point where you get all teary and can't even look at him. he likes having that power over you, cause then he can just pull you into his chest and kiss it better again :)

thanks for the message!