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ellethespaceunicorn · 3 months

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The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Marked By The Wolf

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: ~4.8K (ya waited extra-long; ya get an extra-long chapter)

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: It’s the night of the full moon. The plan? Invite Sy over to the cabin to keep an eye on him in case he shifts. WCGW?

Warnings: verbal fight, angst

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me, guys! And I see y’all reblogging the masterlist for the series. And I thank you so much for keeping this story alive! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. Cuz ya girl was struggling with this chapter for many moons.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Over the next day or so, you get to know Jace. You’d learned his full first name, but “only ko’u makuahine calls me Jason”. Growing up in Hawaii shaped the man he is today, and he misses home a lot. But with Walter in his pack, and being Faye’s godfather, he’s made his own little family.

For a while, it seems like he may be flirting with you. But that quickly fades into something else. You’re only mildly upset when he refers to you as kaikuahine. Firstly, because you had no idea what it meant. Secondly, because when you found out it meant ‘sister’, you had to remind yourself that you have a perfectly great werewolf boyfriend of your own already.

‘Calm down, girl,’ you thought, thinking of your eager beaver.

Walter notices the way your demeanor changes and takes your hand, leading you upstairs. Your confusion only amuses Jace, who seems to know something you don’t. Once you make it into Walter’s bedroom, you are spun against the door. He attacks your neck, licking and nipping at the sensitive flesh until you tangle your fingers in his chestnut curls. Your mind reels, wondering what’s gotten into him.

And then it hits you.

He’s…jealous!

Oh, this is too good. That’s twice tonight that he’s been struck with jealousy. Earlier with Sy’s thirst trap and now with your flirtatious nature. You are beyond flattered, but you refuse to let this man get too far gone. With your hand in his hair, you tighten your fingers and pry him from your neck.

Once his face is in front of yours, you notice his wild eyes where black replaces blue. He looks ready to eat you, and as much as you would like that, you decide to try and calm the beast within.

“Walter, baby? I need you to calm down for a sec,” you beg, both hands tangling in his hair to soothe his soul, “Come on back to me, baby.”

Blinking once, then twice, his eyes finally focus on you, and the trance is gone. His giant paws rush to your face and then to the tender skin of your neck where his teeth were grazing. He winces when you grimace at the feel of his thumb on your sore flesh.

“Pup, I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I was−”

“Jealous?” you supply, already knowing what this was.

“I can’t help it. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. It’s jealousy, sure. But it feels deeper than that. I felt the need to mark you as mine. You’re sort of a natural flirt, you know that?” he probes, a soft smile on his face.

“Well, I mean, I can see that. I guess I’ve never really thought about it. No one has ever brought it up,” you explain, looking back on all the times that men thought you were flirting with them but were just being nice.

“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make sure that Jace knew you were taken. He has an effect on women,” he expresses, “But it seems he only sees you as a sister, so I don’t have to worry about you two riding off into the sunset, now do I?”

“Wow, that was kinda bitchy. But also, incredibly hot that you thought I could be influenced by another big pretty werewolf,” you tease, leaning up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on the end of his nose before pushing back from the door so you could open it and leave.

“You think he’s pretty?” Walter shouts after you.

You laugh, swiftly jogging down the stairs to find an equally amused Jace sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, perfectly at home.

Trying to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed, you plop down next to him on the couch. While you are snuggling into his side, he chuckles and jokes that you should watch out for “the big, bad wolf”. Just as the words leave his mouth, Walter appears on the other side of you, having leapt over the couch. You’re officially squeezed in between the two large wolves, and you suddenly feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Between the warmth radiating from both men, the way they commented on the Forged in Fire episode playing in the background, and the long day finally catching up with you, you had no choice but to fall asleep. You remember leaning your head against Jace’s beefy shoulder after he splayed both arms along the back of the couch. At some point during the night, you awake to find yourself sprawled across both of their laps. Your head is in Walter’s lap and your blanket-covered feet are shoved under Jace’s thigh.

The television screen asking if you’re still watching illuminates the faces of the snoring wolves at either side of you. Walter’s hand on your shoulder twitches as he feels you shifting. Shuffling your ankles, Jace sleepily readjusts to give you room before lowering his thigh back over your feet. All of this was done while they were asleep as if it was second nature to want to keep you safe and warm.

And you weren’t going to complain about being in a literal wolf pile. Instead, you snuggle into your blanket and let yourself drift off again.

When you awaken, the mid-morning sun is flooding through the windows. You’re still on the couch, but no longer surrounded by your wolf-shaped furnaces. Getting up from the couch, you wrap the blanket around your shoulders and go in search of coffee.

Shuffling into the kitchen, you brush past where Walter is plating some waffles. You make it to the coffee machine and pour yourself a cup, adding in your sugar and cream and stirring it until it hits that perfect shade. Taking that first sip is nirvana. As the temperature of the hot beverage slides down your throat, you are warmed from the inside out. Now, you can officially say you have woken up.

You turn around to lean against the counter and are surprised to see both wolves looking at you and smiling. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just we were trying to get your attention, but I see Walter was right about you loving java. You have your priorities straight, is all,” Jace winks at you before sipping his coffee.

Walter chuckles and shoves a plateful of waffles, bacon, and eggs to one of the empty seats and nods for you to eat. “Don’t worry, Pup. I think it’s cute that you need your morning fuel before intelligent social interaction.”

“Thanks, Wolfie,” you hum, leaning in to peck him on the cheek before sitting down to tuck into your plate.

“And the nicknames are elevating my sugar levels as we speak,” Jace teases, expertly catching the waffle that Walter throws his way.

“Look, Jace and I have an idea. We just need you to put the pieces in motion,” Walter begins, explaining the plan to you while you eat. You stayed mostly silent, letting him lay everything out.

Jace pops in here and there with a few tweaks when he sees you start to feel a bit overwhelmed, “If at any time you feel uncomfortable, don’t hesitate. We’re there in case anything happens.”

“I guess I have a call to make. Oh, and do you fellas think you can go grocery shopping? I need a few things if I wanna make sure I have enough to feed all of you,” you lament, factoring in that Sy used to eat you out of house and home on multiple occasions. Might as well have too much than too little. You give Wolfie and Jace your shopping list and head upstairs to shower and make a very important phone call.

Early evening rolls in and you are relishing the smell of your pot roast with vegetables simmering as it permeates the first floor of the house. Wolfie has been at your side for most of the afternoon and even now because you’ve been like a chicken with your head cut off, anxious nerves making you fuss over every little thing.

And he couldn’t blame you for being on high alert. He did ask you to invite over your ex-fiancé during a full moon, under the guise of getting together for a football game, so that he and Jace could find out if Sy is a werewolf. ‘A simple plan,’ said no one in this situation.

Olivia was invited over to help you set up and possibly help you with cooking. But alas, fair Olivia has found her Prince Charming in Jace. And just as Walter said, he does have an effect on women. You have to stop and giggle to yourself as she throws her head back in laughter and touches his arm, her signature move. Great, those two can swoon each other all night while you try and keep the peace between a wolf and a hard place.

The roast was not going to cook any faster with you standing over the crock pot, so you step away from the kitchen and join the others as they sit in the living room. Jace and Liv sit on the couch as Walter sits in one of the loungers. Just as you sit down to rest your bones in the other chair, you notice the guys exchanging a look.

You hear the rumble of Sy’s old pickup and your heart drops into your stomach. You shoot up from your seat and adjust your turtleneck dress that hugs your body like a glove before walking to the front door. You step outside as Sy is pulling into the driveway. Swallowing your apprehension, you walk across the lawn to meet him.

Smiling as he exits his truck, Sy wraps you up in a bear hug. When he lifts you off the ground, you squeak, and he just laughs before putting you back down. You get a whiff of him, and you feel an instant urge to bury your nose in his neck, or his perfectly trimmed beard. Fighting that urge, you playfully swat at Sy’s meaty, flannel-clad bicep and try not to stare at his veiny forearms.

The man always had great arms; you would have complimented him on them once upon a time. But that was a long time ago, and even though you wanted to devour him where he stood, you weren’t about to let him know that. His head was big enough without you adding your horniness to it.

He steps to the truck bed and reaches a hand in to pick up a case of your favorite beer. He seems pretty pleased with himself and not at all nervous about meeting your new boyfriend. You should’ve known better than to think he would miss the opportunity to annoy your current beau.

You lead him inside where he immediately sniffs the air and exclaims, “Oh, my God! Please tell me that is your pot roast.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and nervously reply, “Um, yeah. It’s probably just about done if you want some.”

“If I want some? Of course, it’s my favorite meal,” Sy earnestly comments, and you can’t help but bashfully thank him.

A throat is cleared, and Walter appears at your side, planting a nuzzling kiss on your neck as he snakes an arm around you, making you giggle.

“Walter, this is Sy. Sy, this is Walter, my boyfriend,” you introduce them, smiling to yourself as they offer a hand for a handshake and exchange pleasantries.

“Pleasure ta meetcha, Walter.” “Likewise, Sy.”

They were still shaking each other’s hands until you realized they were having a staring contest.

“Seriously?!” you gripe, equally mad at both of them, “You’re both grown men, right?” You push through their still-joined hands and go into the kitchen.

Olivia rises from the couch and admonishes them as well, “Good going, guys,” as she follows you into the kitchen.

“What?” they say in unison, looking at the only other man in the room. Jace shakes his head, looking between the two of them and taking a pull off his beer.

Walter walks into the kitchen, already apologizing as he approaches where you are sitting at the table. He takes your hand in his and holds it against his chest. It’s less what he says, and more of how he says it. He sounds genuine and he means every word. You peck him on the cheek, forgiving him. Olivia makes sure to tease you about how cute you two are.

Sy saunters in once Walter exits, placing the case of beer on the kitchen counter before opening it, removing two bottles, and handing one to you. Clinking the neck of his bottle against yours, he uncaps his and takes and takes a long pull. Taking a long look at you, he leans back and surveys your level of anger, trying to assess exactly how mad you are.

“Walter seems nice,” he starts in that fatherly tone that always gets a smile out of you.

You shake your head and laugh despite yourself wanting to be mad at him. “You know, he actually is very nice. Just give him a chance to surprise you before you hate his guts, ok? That’s all I ask.”

“Oh, is that all? Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he grumbles, pouting for a second. “Look, I’ll be on my best behavior like Church on Sunday if I can get some of that pot roast.” He turns those blue topaz eyes on you, and you’re putty in his hands, suddenly wishing Liv wasn’t in the room to watch that little moment.

You rise from your seat, dishing out some of the roast and potatoes and carrots onto a plate for Sy, and place it in front of him. You light up when he closes his eyes at the first bite. His groan of satisfaction is more than enough to signal that you did a great job. But the pat he gives your knee is so warm and so intimate that your muscles instantly react to his touch, wishing it lingered for a second more.

“Liv, can Sy and I have a second to talk?” you plead, hoping that she would give you some space.

“Sure. I’ll just go back to fawning over Jace. He’s so pretty I wanna cry,” she professes, patting your shoulder as she exits the kitchen.

Your eyes follow Olivia as she leaves, and then they snap back to where Sy is sitting smiling at you. And you know this particular smile well.

“Sy, why are you smiling at me like that? You said you would be on your best behavior and that smile is not your best behavior,” you sigh, rolling your eyes, “I know that smile got me to do a lot of things back in the day.”

“A lot of fun things come to mind,” he murmurs, bringing his beer up to his lips to drain before rising to get another and lean on the counter, “But that is not why I’m here tonight. Don’t worry, I’m only here to make sure my favorite girl’s being taken care of. I will be a perfect gentleman, even to yer old man.”

Rising from your seat, you finally open your beer and stand next to him. Taking a sip, you bump his shoulder with yours. “One question I have for you. Why did you agree to come over? I mean, you could have hung up the phone or cursed me out when I asked you over to spend time with me. At my boyfriend’s cabin. In the woods. Just saying that now makes me wonder what was going through your head.”

“Not gonna lie, I loved seeing you the other day. Even though you weren’t exactly pleased to see me, you still told me to be careful out there in the woods. Look, I like having you in my life. If that means I have you as a friend, it’s much better than not having you at all,” he confesses, and your world shatters around you when you look up into his eyes and see his sincerity.

You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t take shape and you’re left looking for the answer in his face. The eyes you got lost in a million times before. The lips you kissed every chance you got. Standing this close, you can breathe each other’s breath. If you only stood on your tippy-toes and leaned in, you’d be right−

“Am I interrupting something?” Olivia’s voice snaps you back to reality and you put some space between you and Sy. She walks in between you two to grab another beer. She gives Sy a look before turning her attention to you, “Your boyfriend’s wondering where you are, bee-tee-dubs.” She throws out her arm, gesturing for you to lead the way back to the living room instead of finishing your conversation. You miss her giving Sy another pointed stare before following you out.

The night goes on as planned, at first. You all watch a college football game, Walter’s alma mater vs their rivals, who just happen to be Sy’s alma mater. You and Sy met after college, and he mentioned having played lacrosse, but he’s never shown interest in football. Until tonight, of course.

It’s been a long time since you and Sy spent time together, but you know his temperament. And he’s off. He doesn’t look like himself either, as if he’s covering up something. With the way that Walter and Jace keep sharing looks, you see he is on their radar as well.

Olivia and Jace occupy the two loungers, so you are sitting in between Walter and Sy on the couch. How lucky! You’re in the perfect spot to listen to Sy rooting loudly for his team and making snide comments all because he doesn’t wanna sit next to you and your new boyfriend.

Walter, on the other hand, is quiet for the most part but trembling with anger. He’s letting Sy get to him, and you can’t stand it anymore. You’re suddenly jealous of Olivia who fell asleep halfway into the game.

You unwrap yourself from around Walter and turn to Sy. “Kitchen. Now.”

He doesn’t answer and mutely follows you, taken aback when you turn on him once you’re both in the kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing? You are being such an ass. I’m trying to hold out an olive branch, but you are not meeting me in the middle, Sy,” you snap, feeling like you could spit fire.

“And why did you even invite me? To parade your new man all over me? I thought maybe we could try and be friends, but now I see all you wanna do is remind me that I wasn’t good enough for you,” Sy erupts, his voice booming and full of rage.

“That’s not fair,” you gasp.

“All’s fair in love, Bug,” he cautions, sweat starting to drip down his forehead, “Look, I’m gonna go before either of us says something we’ll regret.” He turns and storms out of the kitchen before you can step any closer to him, but you are on his tail when he steps out of the front door.

You reach him, putting your hand on his shoulder as you try to stop him. He turns back to you, his eyes closed in a pained expression. His skin is flushed as he rips open his flannel, making it easier for you to see his Adonis belt just above his jeans. The bite mark is nowhere to be seen, having already healed. When he starts to hyperventilate, you try to soothe him by calling his name. Fast as lightning, Walter appears between you and Sy.

“Sy, you have to try and stay calm. You aren’t making this easy on yourself. Let it happen,” Walter holds his hands out, showing he means no harm as he tries to step closer to Sy. Walter starts to shift after removing his sweater and jeans.

“Back off, man,” Sy warns, feeling like he could explode with the heat beneath his skin.

“You can do this, just open your eyes,” Walter replies, before his mouth becomes a snout and talking is impossible.

But when Sy finally opens his eyes, they start to glow. His neck twists at a freakish angle, the sounds of bones crunching has you terrified. Reddish-brown fur sprouts out of his skin as his hands stretch into clawed paws. His confused screams are horrifying. Jace’s booming voice is talking over his cries, talking him through the transformation.

Doubling over, Sy grunts in agony as he falls on all fours. Letting out a howl, his jeans fall away as he transforms for the first time. You scream, taking a step back when he sniffs the air and he takes one step toward you.

Sy paces back and forth in front of Walter, seeming to weigh his options. Walter’s wolf form stands an inch or two taller than Sy as he puts distance between you and the new wolf.

Just as the tension is insurmountable, a throat is cleared, and you all look to see Jace standing in the driveway. Nonchalant, but his eyes keenly take in the scene in front of him as he nods at Walter. Olivia is at Jace’s side, dumbfounded by what she is witnessing. When she notices that rumbling sound coming from Jace is him growling, she throws away fear in place of curiosity.

The two wolves are kicking dust up with their feet, squaring off until Jace steps a bit closer to back up his brother. Sy had a chance of maybe beating Walter. But a new wolf up against two bonded brother wolves? No way in hell.

You step in between the three of them. Holding out your hands, you plead with them not to fight. Walter’s nose nudges at your legs and he huffs in Sy’s face. Walter shifts back, picking up his jeans to put back on, and crossing his arms across his massive chest.

Walter and Jace move closer to Sy as he snarls at them until he sees you, clinging to Olivia. Tears fall from your eyes and something inside of Sy breaks. Looking to you, he can see the fear on your face and you wonder if that is what causes him to want to shift back into human form. The two brothers talk Sy down, telling him how to return to human form.

Once his bones have settled and the whining howls stop, Sy is in the fetal position on the lawn. Shivering, sweaty, and scared. His clothes are ruined, but you think you remember seeing a blanket in the truck bed earlier. You ask Olivia to get the blanket while you caress Sy’s face.

Once the blanket is around his middle, you accept help from Walter to lift him up. Sy uses his last ounce of energy to push Walter away.

Coming back to himself, Sy refocuses his anger on Walter. “This has nothing to do with you. Gonna need you to step aside,” Sy fumes, cranky from the changes he doesn’t understand he’s going through.

“That’s just not gonna happen. Maybe if you weren’t trying to move in on what’s mine, I’d be sorry for what I’ve done,” Walter seethes, “After all, I’m the one that bit you.”

You and Sy are both in a state of shock but for different reasons. Sy just found out werewolves are real, and your boyfriend just referred to you as “what’s his'.

“You did this to me?” Sy’s rage peaks.

“Hey, hey. Focus on my voice, come back. You don’t wanna do this,” you trail off as Sy calms down.

His irises are back to their brilliant blue and you can see recognition in them. He looks tired, but he is no worse for wear.

“Can we get outta here? Go someplace we can just…talk?” Sy insists.

You think for a second about how pissed you are at Walter for being extremely callous about turning Sy, not to mention talking about you as if you were a piece of property to be owned. You turn to look back at Walter before answering Sy.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you affirm, putting one of Sy’s arms around your neck to help him walk back to his truck.

You watch Jace stand in front of Walter to stop him from following after you. “Let her cool off, you did just kinda refer to her as ‘what’s mine’, and generally women don’t like that outside of the bedroom.”

Olivia steps over to Walter, putting a hand on his shoulder, her expression calm and collected. “He won’t hurt her. He cares too much about her to do that.”

You get into the driver’s seat after putting Sy in the passenger side, not allowing him to drive. You caution a glance at Walter, instantly regretting looking at his mournful face. Turning the car on, you back out of the driveway and drive out to Sy’s place.

As you drive there from muscle memory, you look over at Sy now and then. The streetlights of the town dash across his solemn face and bare chest as he sleeps. You almost don’t want to wake him when you make it to his house, he looks so peaceful and not like his life has been turned upside-down. You wake him with the back of your hand smoothing down his face. He grabs it, lost for a moment before he sees your face and where he is.

You help him get inside and suddenly feel exhausted as well. You loiter in the living room while he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen. You didn’t really plan how you were going to get back to Walter’s cabin tonight. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t want to go back tonight.

Sy comes back out, gulping down water from his glass while holding the blanket low around his middle.

“Is it okay if we wait to talk? I’m tired as hell. I’ll take the couch if that’s alright?” You ask, sitting down on the couch and starting to move the pillows.

“You’re not staying out here. You’re sleeping in the bedroom. I’ll take the couch. I’ll grab you something to sleep in,” he rattles on, moving to the bedroom as you stand from the couch and look at your feet.

Sy comes back out to the living room. He’s barefoot, shirtless, and in a pair of grey sweatpants. He just can’t help himself, you think.

“I left you a shirt and some shorts on the bed. Let me know if you need anything, alright?” he advises, using a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the bedroom.

You laugh when you see Sy left you his Mötley Crüe shirt. While putting on the shirt and the boxers, you look at the bed and you know that you don’t want to sleep alone. You don’t care that this will only further complicate your relationship, but you need to not be alone right now. Your bare feet pad across the wood floor as you go back out to the living room.

Sy hears you and picks his head up to look at you. “You alright, Bug?”

“I don’t wanna sleep alone. I know that’s probably−”

Sy was already up and ushering you back into the bedroom before you could finish your sentence. You pull back the covers so you both can climb in. You enter first and then he slides under the blanket next to you. He lays on his back, you on your side facing away from him. You wiggle your body backward until you come into contact with his warmth. You reach back for his arm and pull it around you.

“Is this okay?” you hesitate, suddenly afraid that you’re asking too much.

“Yeah. S’ok,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your neck. If he notices the shiver that goes down your spine, you’re grateful that he doesn’t mention it.

“Good night, Sy,” you murmur, yawning at the end of your sentence.

“G’night, Bug,” he breathes.

As you drift off to sleep, you think how different you imagined this day ending. You didn’t expect to be in your ex’s arms tonight instead of Walter’s. But you did expect to be in a werewolf’s embrace. Sy’s breath evens out behind you, the rising and falling of his chest against your back is enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

To be continued...

A/N: I would love to know what you think of this chapter!

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in-another-april · 10 months

Text

─ desire | s.r

summary/prompt + genre - reader is down bad distracted by spencer during work | suggestive(ish) fluff

warnings - ending alludes to smut, making out

wc - 804

notes - this is literally just me shamelessly thirsting over spencer for 800 words im not sorry

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Since the day you met Spencer, there hasn’t been a moment you haven’t found him overwhelmingly attractive in all aspects. You were sure your dire levels of infatuation would slow down once you started dating, but even now it almost feels impossible not to practically swoon every time your eyes meet.

From his dorky dress shirts paired with his dark blazer and perpetually crooked ties, those honey-brown eyes that are constantly swimming with emotion, up to his gelled hair that only you have the privilege of running your fingers through as he cuddles up to you before bed every night, you’re infinitely grateful you get to call him yours. What’s more, that’s only covering his physical attributes, as you’re sure if you start thinking about everything you like about his personality you’ll be thinking for hours, something you’d be more than okay with doing if you didn’t have work to do.

It feels as though it hurts to tear your eyes away from him, but you don’t have much of a choice if you want to avoid being reprimanded by Hotch for straying from your tasks. It’s a relatively laid-back casework day at work, something you’d appreciate for its simplicity compared to field cases. That is, it would be easy, if your mind wasn’t stubbornly reverting back to thoughts of Spencer every time you tried to focus on your work. It’s an added level of torture knowing he’s right there at the desk next to you, flipping through his files effortlessly, unaware of the battle over him occurring in your head.

You finally manage to force your focus onto your work, only to be interrupted moments later by Spencer standing up from his desk and heading towards the coffee maker, your gaze following him the entire time. You mentally curse yourself for acting like a lovesick teenager whose thoughts revolve around their partner like they’re the sun in their solar system, and you have to act surprised when Spencer places a cup of coffee on your desk as if your eyes weren’t trained on his movements since he left his desk.

“I thought you might need some more coffee,” He speaks, bringing his own cup to his lips. “To finish all of that, I mean.” You follow his stare to the stack of files adorning your desk, mouth gaping as you notice how much taller it is compared to everybody else’s, never realizing just how fast time flies when you’re daydreaming about your boyfriend. “You okay? I can take some of those for you if you want.” He offers, the gesture unintentionally making the situation harder, causing your heart swell with love even more than before.

“You don’t have to.” You shake your head, biting your lip. “I’ve got it, really.” You roll your eyes as you see him swipe a few of your files off the top of your stack anyway, giving your shoulder a loving squeeze before taking off back to his desk. You mumble your thanks for both the coffee and him lightening your file load before returning your focus to your papers as best as you can.

Despite how you (surprisingly) make it to the end of the day with minimal distracting thoughts, you’re still as eager to get home as you were before, knowing the car ride home is going to feel excruciatingly long. You bounce impatiently on your heels as you wait for Spencer to pack up, practically yanking him to the elevator and ignoring the look Morgan and Emily share from your actions.

As soon as you make it past the threshold of your shared apartment, you allow yourself a breath of relief to leave your lips before promptly smashing them onto Spencer’s as you press his back against the front door, reveling in the shocked noise he makes upon impact. Despite his initial surprise, he tilts his head to return the kiss, trying to keep up with your fast pace as he cups your face in his hands. Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of his soft skin, eyes squeezed closed as your tongue moves to part his lips. It doesn’t get far, though, and you whine at the loss of contact as he pulls away to breathe.

“Where, uh-” he starts, clearing his throat, “Where did that come from?” He asks, face flushed and breathing heavily as he presses your foreheads together.

Your eyes immediately flit away from his, uncharacteristically shy as if you weren’t just sticking your tongue down his throat, “I just… I need you.” Is what you settle on, mind too fuzzy to think of a more eloquent explanation as your hands move to grip his arms.

His face flushes a deeper shade, moving your face to look at him again as he stutters out an, “I’m all yours.” before leaning in again.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer x reader #criminal minds x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #x reader

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ataraxiaspainting · 4 months

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Chrollo Lucilfer Yandere Analysis.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

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

Word Count: 13k.

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

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

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

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

*~*~*~*

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

→ Introduction.

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

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

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

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

→ Darling Character Analysis.

Creative.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bold.

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

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

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

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

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

Resourceful.

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

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

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

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

He will mirror their actions until the end.

Independent.

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

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

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

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

His thoughts remain inscrutable, and he revels in it.

Cunning.

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

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

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

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

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

Mature.

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

Hardworking.

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

Observant.

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

Logical.

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

A Leader.

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

Confident Outside, Insecure Inside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→ Unique Qualities.

Yandere Type:

Possessive.

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

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

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

Monitoring. (Watches From Afar / Direct Contact)

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

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

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

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

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

Removing Nuisances. (Murder Likelihood: 8/10)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Attention-Seeking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eliminating Rivals.

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

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

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

“Fei, do you hear that?”

“...I do.”

Sexual Drive: 5/10.

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

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

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

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

Violence Towards Darling: 3/10.

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

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

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

Violence Towards Others: 8/10.

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

“Feeling intrusive, are we?”

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

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

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

Vanilla / Kinky

Favorite Kinks:

Begging.

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

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

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

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

Voyeurism.

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

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

Oral. (Receiving)

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

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

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

Favorite Parts:

Your Thighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Collarbone.

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

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

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

Your Feet.

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

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

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

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

His Fingers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

As you wish.

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

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

His Words.

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

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

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

Well, it turns out to be a colossal mistake.

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

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

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

His Knowledge.

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

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

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

…Doesn’t it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

→ Strengths.

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

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

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

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

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

→ Weaknesses.

Lotus Eater. (Dreamy Idleness)

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

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

→ Daily Life.

Welcome. (Day One)

Chrollo remains a mystery begging to be left unsolved.

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

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

Yet, he never becomes too intimate.

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

What Could Be. (And What Is)

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

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

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

→ Punishments. (No Punishments / Tortuous Punishments)

Welcome Again. (Failed Departure)

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

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

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

Perhaps a pet is all you will be.

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

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

Venus Fly Trap. (Temptations of a Liar)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…Does he?

→ Quotes.

Hello.

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

Chat: Ballet.

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

Chat: Athenaeum.

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

Chat: Reimbursement.

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

When It Rains.

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

After It Rains.

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

When Thunder Strikes.

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

When It Snows.

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

When the Sun Is Out.

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

Good Morning.

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

Good Afternoon.

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

Good Evening.

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

Good Night.

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

About Chrollo: Tattoos.

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

About Chrollo: Lies.

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

About Us: Home.

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

About Us: Cull.

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

About Us: Matrimony.

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

About Us: Panoply.

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

About You: Humanity.

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

About You: Epiphany.

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

Something to Share.

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

Interesting Things.

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

About Nobunaga.

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

About Feitan.

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

About Machi.

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

About Hisoka.

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

About Phinks.

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

About Shalnark.

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

About Franklin.

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

About Shizuku.

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

About Pakunoda.

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

About Bonolenov.

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

About Uvogin.

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

About Kortopi.

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

More About Chrollo: I.

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

More About Chrollo: II.

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

More About Chrollo: III.

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

More About Chrollo: IV.

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

More About Chrollo: V.

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

Chrollo’s Hobbies.

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

Chrollo’s Troubles.

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

Favorite Food: Black Squid Ink Carbonara.

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

Favorite Food: Opulence.

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

Least Favorite Food: Canned Cabbage.

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

Least Favorite Food: Waste.

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

Receiving a Gift: I.

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

Receiving a Gift: II.

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

Receiving a Gift: III.

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

Chrollo’s Birthday.

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

Birthday.

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

Feelings About You: Ethereal.

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

Feelings About You: Euphonious.

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

Feelings About You: Eternity.

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

Feelings About You: Elision.

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

→ Conclusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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istarveforplatonicptnstuff · 19 days

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Chameleon, as your psychology professor (Anxiety ridden reader)

- You heard about the mysterious professor that everyone’s been talking about… Not only being famous for being bizarre, she was also famous for her mature looks, so of course you are going to hear the occasional thirst from the others as well… 🧎‍♀️ Regardless, you wind up becoming her student when the first semester rolls around. People are very jealous at the fact that you get to be in her class… Stink, first impressions are long-lasting so you better not mess up! - You bumped into her accidentally on the way to her class… Yikes, clumsy you…! You were beyond mortified 😰 at the piles of paperwork that you had to pick up, your brain was technically not braining the moment you decide to ignore reality and get in your head… Mood. 😪 Well, you’re about to enter that realm now because on the inside, you are a bundle of nerves, but on the outside? You were basically picking the papers up as fast as you can while mumbling apologies… Girl, same. 🤝 You were so focused on the task ahead while overthinking about the whole situation as well, wow ✨multitasking✨, you didn’t notice her helping you out and as well as observing your behavior… - “Calm yourself. I do not bite…” Is what she said, and you impulsively thought that she might as well do that… Rebecca reads your mind and smiles at the thought. You are funny. Slayed 💅 “I assume you are a new student here or…?” That was your queue to answer her, finally snapping out of your anxious state. She was satisfied with your answer, but she noticed that you were heading in the same class that she is going as well… “Are you one of my students in lecture hall ___?” You immediately went stiff at the mention of the class you were supposed to go. Goodbye 😞 Your career was over before it even started…! 😫 You just wanted to crawl in your grave at the sudden realization that she probably was, your professor… You couldn’t look up to see her being amused at your thoughts… In fact, you haven’t even looked up to see her for the first time… Whoops 😊 - And when you finally do, now you were very, very conscious of the way she looked… Exactly how those people described her. Wow. You just had to ruin your first impression with your college professor… You forced a shaky smile in an attempt to hide your pitiful state. Babes, I fear there is no coming back from this… But thank God before your professor could even leave another comment, the bell rang. - Immediately shooting up and giving her the papers that you picked up for her… You comically just really left her and she was like Oh…! 🤨 Now, that’s how you make an impression sis! You were sweating 🥵bullets on the way to the lecture hall, like GIRL, you were WORKING 💪, so HARD that you almost girlbossed too close to the sun from the incident 😭. - Girlie arrived a few moments after you, and start the class. Miss maam had you shaking like a leaf 🍃, at the back of the class though, I am not that cruel enough to put you in a spotlight sis 💅 - When it was your turn to introduce yourself, you felt like you might as well jump off the window due to how many… People were staring, and even her, who was anticipating for your introduction… Sis was looking at you like you were some tiny puzzle that stuck out from the rest of the class… After your introduction, she commented on how interesting your background was, slay? But that didn’t help at all when she was the person you bumped into and your mind kept going back at the encounter… Help. - The rest of the class went surprisingly smooth… If not for the fact that she was STARING 👁👄👁 at you at every opportunity, like GIRL you were sitting at the back of the class, why is she staring at you, when she can stare at the people in the front? 😰 Your anxiety level went ↘⬅🔁⬆↪↙↖↕↔⤵ - After the class, you were going through SPEED 🚅 levels of sonic, my girl you were RUSHING to get out of there asap! You were going to BOOK it 🏃‍♀️💨 Until, you hear her call your name and asked you to stay behind. Life does not unfortunately get better for you, poor unfortunate soul... 😇

- So, you wind up staring at the ceiling, finding the ceiling more appealing than the sight of your professor, staring. 😰 Bestie, you just wanted to get out of there and never come back again… You hear her clear her throat, and so you immediately meet her eye, she gives you a motherly smile… ☺One that made you want to die, because how could you deserve such a thing, when you bumped into her…? You were losing it on the inside, babes you’re fine, she’s here for you, and I’m here to support you as well…! In the background, of course! 💅 - She looks entertained at the prospect of a new student that has a rather interesting mind to dissect… She probably sees you as some sort of a new patient to have some fun conversations with… She wanted to see if she can alleviate your anxiousness by the power of psychology rather than the usual hypnosis. And so, she talked to you about how the experience was being on her class and if you had any feedback that you can provide so that it may help her out as well… You were now short-circuiting with all these, overwhelming developments that was suddenly happening… You ended up embarrassingly stuttering the whole time, trying to communicate that the experience was fine…! But you, on the other hand? Was not. On the inside. 💀 - She again, gives you that same smile, that makes you want to jump of the window because, what did YOU do??? 😩 While you were being a confused mess, she decided that she wanted to talk to you again, and ended the conversation with “I hope to have an exchange with you again. You may now go.” You didn’t hear the first part of the sentence; you only heard the words “go” and you ZOOMED 🏃‍♀️💨 out of the lecture hall just like that. Leaving, a very entertained Rebecca.

An: I wrote this before the nursing student intern, but I ended up finishing that one first before this... This... Is so unserious. With the random emojis 😶 there will be another part of this, and a fic as well if I am able to come up with ideas, till then!

#ptn x reader #path to nowhere #ptn #path to nowhere x reader #platonic path to nowhere #platonic ptn #chameleon x reader #ptn chameleon x reader #suspect r x reader

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absolutebl · 6 months

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This Week in BL - a shocking upset to the rankings

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Nov 2023 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 5 of 8 - It remains absolutely delightful. We already knew this pair does boyfriends damn near perfectly. It’s a pleasure to watch them as a couple, coupling all over our screen. The relationship does feel a bit rushed but frankly I like the pacing, it’s kind of Korean style which makes sense considering the original IP.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 1 of 10 - You know what this is? It’s FUN is what it is. I haven’t felt this way about a BL in a while. Sure is has an uneven story, fight sequences, pacing, and acting but still… yay! Billy is great, he very good at thirst. It’s a crime Lee Long Shi isn’t in this, but otherwise weeeeeeeeee!

(Also was that Bangsean I spotted?)

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - The montage of them learning and training together was so stinking cute I can hardly contain myself. Plus a little language play? (Did you catch the added “na” on to thank you? Gah! So sweet.) Have mercy. I love the banter that these two can execute so smoothly. It reminds me the most of TayNew back in their Kiss days. Or Nanon & Ohm in Bad Buddy.

There’s this breezy casualness to friendships and long-term relationships that Asian BLs seem to find really hard to execute (I’m thinking about something like Hospital Playlist as the best example). It’s more a friend chemistry than a lover chemistry, although of course it can morph into that.

Anyway, I am waffling, but I’m loving this show. (The bit with the teacher made me cry.) I also really love how much actual Bangkok we’re getting from it for a change.

Finally... how much did @respectthepetty and I love the pink milk shirt moment? SO MUCH. Color theory, plot devise, fashion, food, and a trope reference all in one. Well done GMMTV! Very well done.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 4 of 10 - I would like it if we got onto the BL section of this BL. Please and thank you.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 2 of 14 - it's delightfully trashy, btu slightly less trashy than last week because they introduced AlanJeff who are my new babies of age gap delight and you cannot have them. THEY ARE MINE. Also Way. WAY IS MINE. Also, I decided to do a trash watch.

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - It’s nice. It’s fine. Atmospheric and pretty and full of deserts. What’s not to love? Is it inspired? No. Definitely has an Antique Bakery (play it again, BL). But I do love food based cinema.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 3 of 8 - What’s annoying is that this could’ve been so good. It’s a poster child for squandered potential.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - Because of the temporal paradox, and Thai BL not being all that great on narrative consistency anyway, this is a confusing piece as well as a painful one. Now Ongsa seems to be nothing more than a stalker who cries all the time.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 2 of 14(!) eps - This really feels like Thailand is trying to relive the gory days of Japan's pinks. I wasn’t into it then and I’m certainly not into it now. It’s a mess and weirdly mechanically not sexy. I’ll stay watching it but, like Only Friends, I don’t think I’m gonna warm to it. I just don’t like shows where there are no likable characters.

Also imma say it, so plug your assears. This is about as deep as a dildo can go. Which is to say, the size queens seem to be finding it more deep than the rest of us who are already bottoming out. Just make sure you're taking adequate lube prep with your psyches.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Friends Forever ep 14 of 24 - No thank you. 1/10

I've decided, for spreadsheet reasons, that each of these is going to be tracked as its own 2 part show.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

A Breeze of Love (Korea iQIYI) eps 5-6 of 8 - The shopping together scene was absolutely darling. But I’m getting a little frustrated not knowing exactly what happened in the past.

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 1-2 of 10 - Of course it starts with the crash into me trope, oh Taiwan. It’s cute enough, I love the support cast, and it’s always nice to have something from my favorite tiny island on my dash.

You tell me: is it safe?

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) 6 eps - This one finished. It's an adaptation of Harada’s manga (which I did not like and dnf'd) about a clerk who nearly dies and ends up cohabitating with an angel. Thoughts? Is it sad? Is it meh? TELL ME!

It's Airing But...

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 1 of 10 - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even that gives me the will. You can tell me how this goes if you can find it.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14 eps - I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all) even one featuring Singto and Fluke. I'm holding off. If told it's good, I'll binge.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk. Adapted from y-novel of the same name, directed by Tu (180 Degree) stars Jet (Why You… Y Me?). Giving me Luminous Solution vibes, so I'm waiting to binge if told it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep one. Waiting to be told if I should bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

In case you missed it

I posted 20 BLs with the BEST Thirst! and decided to distinguish the different type son need in BL as follows:

Thirst wants to slide a hand under his waistband right tf now and grind.

Horny wants to rip his clothes off, and probably pop buttons and laugh about it.

Yearning wants to run both hands up his back while they kiss deeply.

Hunger wants to lift him by the ass and slam him against the wall.

Next Week Looks Like This

(Today) 11/26 Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - OffGun are back, trailer here. Adapted from the novel “Love Course! เสื้อกาวน์รุกเสื้อกุ๊กรับ” by iJune4S this is about Prem who runs a not-so-popular restaurant with 2 friends. About to go on a cooking competition with a huge reward, Prem gets involved with Ten, a stressed-out med student who wants Prem to teach him to cook.

11/30 For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 1 of 10 - high heat trailer From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night (please no) based on a y-novel, man nursing a heartbreak has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. It looks terribly trashy so I'm in!

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Look at how gd cute they are!

Ah yes... (both Last Twilight)

We stan a supportive bestie/brother (orphans together? - not sure on the backstory)

It is a rule universally aknowledged that an cutie in a baceball cap must get his brim tweaked. (all from The Sign)

Way is the best.

I kinda love the BTS for Pit Babe.

(Last week)

#this week in bl #bl updates #bl review #My Dear Gangster Oppa #thai bl #the sign the series #Last Twilight #gmmtv #JimmySea #TayNew #ohmnanon #One Room Angel #japanese bl #pit babe the series #Twins the series #playboyy the series

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pretty-red-garnet · 8 months

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Angel

Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader • France • Light Angst/Fluff

!Spoilers! For The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon episode one! Don’t read this if you haven’t watched yet! Also, thank you so much to the anon who requested this. I had a lot of fun writing it.

PS: Ignore the canon divergence lol.

Heavy limbs is all Daryl feels as he begins to become conscious again. He's huddled on an overturned boat, his frozen fingers gripping your waist to keep you afloat with him. It seems even unconscious, he's always thinking of you and your safety before anything.

The coast is close, and he fights against his droopy eyes to look towards you. Your eyes are still closed, and he panics and swats at you to wake you. When you do, your groggy too, glazed over eyes looking towards his.

"We gotta get to the coast," Daryl tells you, his voice rough with thirst. You nod, still disoriented, but he appreciates that you don't fight him when he lugs you off the boat and drags you towards shore.

You and Daryl crawl on the sand, fingers ripping into the sand in an effort to ground yourselves. Sand sticks to the icy water soaking the two of you. Daryl spots a little sand bucket full of water ahead, and rushes to it. After a single eager gulp, he hurriedly hands it off to you. He watches the water drip down your chin, giving himself just a moment to relish in the fact that you're ok and breathing.

You and him had gotten in quite a bit of trouble since venturing off in an effort to find his brother. It ended in getting taken aboard a huge boat and— thankfully— escaping on a much smaller paddle boat. And now your landed on an unfamiliar shore.

"Where do you think we are?" You ask, breaths still heavy and fast. Daryl shrugs, leaning back onto his hand and grabbing the bucket when you offer it.

After a quick moments rest, you and your partner are back on your feet. You both wander the area, looking around for any sign of where you could be. The town you end up in is small. Buildings surrounded by the sea. It looked like it would've been a spot out of a travel pamphlet from before.

"Y/N," Daryl suddenly says, looking towards a sign. You step next to him, eyeing the sign to try and read the words through the age and decay.

"Is that..." you start, examining the unfamiliar language. "French?"

You and Daryl both look towards each other, both having an expression that could only be described as exhaustion. It seemed to Daryl that you and him just couldn't catch a damn break. How the hell would he get you home?

"Looks like we're not in Kansas anymore," you say, deadpan. Daryl's frown deepens and gives you a halfhearted thwack on the shoulder for you ill-timed joke. "Tough crowd."

You and Daryl spend that night in a little fishing boat. It's long abandoned, dirt and dust covering every surface, but it gives some cover from the biting wind. After eating a fish Daryl caught, you both huddle together under layers of blankets on a little cot. You're wrapped around him and despite the exhaustion that drapes over you, you still can't sleep.

"Judith would like that," you mumble. Daryl follows your eyes and sees you gazing at the penguin plush. "She's never seen a penguin. Well, just in books."

Your voice is quiet, thoughtful. Daryl knows what your thinking about, he's good at that now. After so many years with a person, you can almost read their mind. And Daryl knows that you're missing Jude and RJ, especially after listening to that tape. That you're thinking about the childhood they're missing out on, about trips to the zoo and seeing penguins, begging their parents to buy them an overpriced souvenir. The childhood they should have.

The childhood you and Daryl are missing out watching.

"We'll have to bring it back for them," he says. You don't say anything back. "I'm gonna get you home, alright?"

You tilt your head to look in his eyes. Daryl hates that he sees fear and worry in yours. He tries to ebb it away with gentle caresses.

"I'm gonna get you home," he repeats, firmer and while looking you in the eye. You relent, nodding and smiling softly at him, and he leans to brush your lips against his in a silent promise.

It seems the bad luck that hangs over you and Daryl like a dark storm cloud isn't planning on dissipating anytime soon. You and Daryl venture deeper into the city and stumble upon a big abandoned building.

"Maybe I should've taken French in high school," you murmur, eyes squinting at the unrecognizable words written on a sign outside of the building. Daryl just shrugs, and carefully begins to enter the building.

It ends up being filled with walkers. Guttural groans and decomposed flesh surrounds you and Daryl. You and Daryl are taking care of your own groups, dividing and— hopefully— conquering.

"Daryl!" You screech out, the sound of a body dropping following. "These are not normal walkers!"

Daryl looks at the dead walkers and sees what you mean. Something leaking from them is burning the ground. Acid.

It's not a second later Daryl is grabbed roughly, acidic fingers clamping down on his forearm. He lets out a yelp in pain, one that makes you kill your batch of walkers in half the time with the help of the extra adrenaline. Daryl sees you in the corner of his eye rushing towards him after he's able to pry the walker's hand off his arm.

"Oh my God," you say, breathlessly staring at the burned hand print on his arm. Your fingers shake violently as they move to touch him, before they move away again. You look up at Daryl, his face pinched in pain. Tears collect at the corners of your eyes.

Daryl's heart clenches in his chest at the sight of you, nervous and scared. Teary eyes and trembling like a leave. He reaches up to lightly dab at a few stray tears that leaked from your eyes, shaking his head.

"I'm fine," he says, slowly and quietly. "Just a burn, I'm not infected or nothin'." His fingers now stroke your hair, trying to get that terrified look out of your eyes. "It's somethin' on the walkers, it's not a scratch or bite. 'M fine."

You nod, and throw your arms around his waist. He hugs back without a thought, hiding a wince when your coat brushes against his wound. He doesn't mind, he'll take the pain if it means your arms are around him, holding him so tight he's afraid he'll lose feeling in his legs any second. Your face is buried in his chest, and he leaves little kisses on the crown of your head.

When you finally pry yourself away, you're quick to pull a bandage out of your bag. Forcing Daryl to sit, you tentatively wrap the bandage around his arm. You place a sweet kiss on the outskirts of his bandage when you're done, smiling at Daryl when he huffs out an amused snort.

You were always like that. Kind, and attentive. Always putting him and your family ahead of yourself. It was something that Daryl fell in love with first all those years ago. Although it tends to worry and annoy him on occasion.

"I'm gonna be fine, alright?" Daryl reassures when he sees the worry isn't completely washed away from your face. You nod, lacing your fingers with his and leading him out of the building.

Just when it seems the day couldn't get worse, it does. You and Daryl find a girl with her father, and thankfully she knows enough english for a trade. A little med kit for some apples and rabbit.

What at first seems like the first score of the day ends in Daryl and his partner sprawled out on the damp ground. Both have matching knots on the side of their heads and Daryl a gunshot wound, yet both look and reach out towards each other. Daryl's eyes slip close before he can help it.

Daryl wakes to a start. His limbs and eyes are heavy, and he hears a woman talking— chanting?— in French. His eyes are blurry, but he's pretty sure he's looking at nuns surrounding him, one of them— the one that's speaking— has a heated fire poker, so hot the tip is a bright orange.

He yelps and shouts, trying to break free from the women's grip, but between being outnumbered, in pain, and exhausted, he doesn't move much. Daryl's eyes fly around the room in a panic, trying to catch sight of you, but there's no such thing. Once the molten poker hits his skin, the pain blinds him and he's out again.

Daryl wakes again much later. Maybe hours, maybe days later, he's not sure. He spots a nun pouring water from a basin in a large tub. Despite his body not functioning up to speed, he sits up anyway. At that moment, she turns towards him.

"You feeling better?" She asks, a foreign accent marking her words.

"Where is she?" He grumbles out, voice like sandpaper. "Y/N, where is she?"

"She's in another room, eating. She came to see you, you were still sleeping," she explains. "I'm Isabelle."

Isabelle explains the situation to Daryl. How the cauterization to prevent the spread of infection from that acidic walker, where he was, and how you were, all while removing the bandage on his arm. She makes some other conversation, but Daryl is mostly quiet, too busy with thoughts of you. However, Daryl isn't panicked, just concerned.

He doesn't feel the woman or any nuns at the abby had ill intent. They could've just left you both to die, but they didn't. Instead taking total strangers back to their home. Daryl does just want to see you. To make absolute sure you're safe and alright.

After Isabelle leaves, he takes her up on her offer of a bath. He can see the steam from here, and after the freezing cold ocean water from the other day, he needs it. He also doesn't need you worrying about his wound, so keeping it clean was a good first step.

He makes it quick and hasty, already out with a towel when Isabelle enters with clean clothes. Daryl feels a little exposed, only dressed with a towel, but Isabelle is quick to exit once she gives him the clean clothes.

Daryl hurries out the door once he's dressed. He doesn't really know where he's going, but he follows the noise of chatter. He peeks his head in the room he hears the most noise and spots you, talking with a couple of the nuns and eating soup.

"Hey, Angel," you say, dropping your spoon in your soup when he makes his presence known. You stand, placing your hand on his cheek and pressing a sweet kiss to the side of his mouth.

"You alright?" Daryl asks, tentatively touching the bruise on your temple. You nod, smiling when you kiss his wrist.

"Isabelle said your arm looks good." You sit down and Daryl follows suit. One of the women places a bowl in front of him, and he's quick to dig in and slurp up his soup.

"Told you, 'm fine."

"I know, but if I don't worry about you, who will?"

Isabelle gives you and Daryl a tour of the convent. She introduces Laurent to you both and explained the miracle of his birth, how he's special. Daryl scoffed, but he could tell you were a little intrigued with Isabelle's plan of getting him to a better place. Somewhere safer and where he could be happier.

Daryl would've flat out refused if it weren't for you. You convinced him to help out the women on their journey. Isabelle promised she'd help get you and Daryl back home, or at least access to a radio. It didn't seem very promising, but one look at you and he folded.

You always called him your angel, but in truth, you're the real angel.

After all the introductions and outlining the plan of getting Laurent to wherever he needs to be, it's dinner time. Laurent was a strange kid. He liked to talk and sometimes he'd get all philosophical and ask Daryl deep questions. His odd questions and badgering took up most of the day. You mostly just giggled at Daryl and his usually half-assed answers.

At dinner, the other nuns regard Daryl nervously. You had quietly joked to him that's it's his 'intimidating energy,' as you called it.

"But don't worry, I find it really hot," you had said in a whisper while the nuns set the table. Daryl blushed and moved to hide his face from you, which just made you giggle.

The only ones that speak English are Isabelle, Laurent, and another nun named Sylvie. The three translated any conversation between you, Daryl, and the other women. It was mostly them asking questions to learn about you and Daryl.

"She wants to know how long you two have been married," Isabelle asks, translating a question from the oldest nun, Mother Superior.

"Oh," you had said, stumbling a little. Daryl could feel heat flush his cheeks and ears. "We're not married."

Sylvie and a few of the other women had made a slightly surprised face, and Mother Superior looked just aghast when Isabelle translated.

"Don't you two live together?" Laurent asks, ever on top of things. "And haven't you been together for years?"

"Yeah..." you say with a shrug. "Guess we just never thought to."

"There even a point?" Daryl asks. "No courts, no paper to sign."

It seemed nobody had to translate for the oldest nun this time. Maybe it was his tone or nonchalant shrug while he said it, but it seemed she got the point. She made a noise of astonishment, shook her head while muttering a player and making the motion of a cross. Daryl honestly thought it was a little comical, never did he think he'd be discussing marriage with a bunch of nuns, in an abby, in France no less.

"It's about taking a vow in front of God," Sylvie says. "A show that you love each other and you'll be together forever."

Daryl could feel the awkward tension radiating from you in waves. You moved your food around your plate, slightly unwilling to make eye contact with the nuns. Daryl just shrugged. He knew he loved you, he knew he would be with you forever, he knew you felt the same, he didn't need a big show to prove that.

Daryl never gave marriage a huge thought. Before he met you, he was sure he'd never even fall in love. After you, he was so deeply head over heels for you, he never thought he needed a big wedding to prove how much he loved you. He showed it everyday, at least he tried his best to. Maybe he wasn't the most romantic or emotionally inclined, but he tried to make you feel loved and happy.

Besides, you'd never hinted at marriage. If you did, maybe it'd be a different story. You'd never said you wanted a wedding, did you want one? Did you want to be married, and thought he wouldn't want it? Daryl's not sure.

Now that he's thinking, really thinking during the semi-awkward silence that replaced the once lively conversation, maybe you did want marriage. Daryl remembers all those years ago when Maggie and Glenn married. They didn't have a huge wedding or anything, just a ring and a small celebration with some scavenged champagne. He remembers how happy you looked, how fondly you gazed at the happy couple.

He remembers how he made a comment similar to the one he just made, about no point of being married. You had nudged his shoulder and told him to be quiet, that it was romantic. That it didn't matter there were no marriage licenses or wedding gowns or honeymoons, they were happy and in love. How they just wanted to be husband and wife, just because they were committed to one another.

Daryl looks at you seated next to him, and it's like something changes. Maybe calling you his wife wouldn't be so bad.

Isabelle leads you and Daryl to separate rooms. After the big news of you and Daryl being unwed, Mother Superior didn't want you both staying in the same room. It was bizarre to Daryl, but you wanted to respect their wishes. So he conceded, and allowed Isabelle to take you away from him.

You blowed him a dramatic kiss as you walked away, like you were going off to war or something. He played along anyway like he always did with you, grabbing the kiss and bringing it to his chest just to see you laugh.

Now, laying in bed without your steady presence beside him was unwelcome. He felt strange, like he was missing a vital part of him. He couldn't even remember the last time he's slept without you. Even those years he was out in the woods looking for Rick, you were there, always right beside him.

He tossed and turned, fiddling with a little scrap of stained white fabric he had clutched in his hand. It was from his angle wing on his vest. A small piece had peeled off after the long trip in the ocean, and he had shoved it in his pocket without thinking.

Eventually, Daryl stood. Maybe he'd get in trouble with the nuns in the morning, but he doesn't care, he needs you. He carefully pushes open his door before making his way towards your room. He enters your room without knocking, letting out a relived sigh when he sees you laying in bed.

"You didn't even knock," you say, sitting up in bed. "What if you had just barged into one of the nun's rooms? Don't think they would've liked it much."

"I must have God on my side." You snort and shake your head. He walks over to you and sits on your bed, pushing you back into the pillows.

"What're you doing here anyway? Got lost?" You tease, a smirk on your face that Daryl kisses away.

"Missed you," he murmurs against your lips, before pulling away just barley to trail feverish kisses from your jaw to your neck. You groan.

"They won't like this much you know," you say, heated breaths fanning out across the top of Daryl's head. "We should respect their wishes. We're in their home."

"Whatever, we're helpin' them with their mission, ain't we?" You push Daryl away lightly, and so he pulls away. You're giving him a concerned look that makes Daryl worry.

"Yes, but they're also helping us. They're helping to get us home, and I don't wanna risk anything." Daryl sighs, the breath causing your messy hair to flutter slightly. He smooths it down tenderly.

"I'm gonna get you home. Don't gotta worry." You grasp his hand playing with your hair and kiss his fingertips. He curls his fingers around your hand and lifts it to his lips, placing careful kisses to your knuckles.

"I do hate sleeping without you," you admit, voice quiet. He nods, placing your hand gently to rest on your stomach, still holding it.

"Guess I just have to marry you then." Daryl had intended it as a joke, but realized he was serious about halfway through. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he gazes at you, hair fanning out on the pillow with an adorably confused look on your face.

He's not sure what took him so long to realize. But he's never been so sure of anything in his life. He wants you to be his wife. You're already his everything, his forever, he wants it to be official. He wants to hear you call him your husband, he wants you to be his and him yours in every sense there is.

"Are you joking?" You ask, a furrow to your brow and a tilt to your head. He shakes his head, his insecurities begin to evade his mind.

"I love you," he starts, unable to meet your questioning gaze. "I never thought about marriage, never thought anyone could love me like that." You push his hair from his face and caress his cheek, regarding him with a look so full of love he knows he's made the right choice. "But I wanna do it with you, if you want."

"Why now?" You sit up, pressing your palms on either side of his face. "Is it because of what the nuns said?"

"Kinda." He shrugs, and you smile softly.

"Daryl, I don't need us to be married to know you love me. You show me that every day. You don't need to prove anything." He shakes his head, holding your hands in place by grasping your wrists loosely.

"I want to be married to you. I never really thought about it before this s'all, but I do," Daryl confirms, holding your gaze steadily now. "I wanna be with you forever. You're everything to me."

Tears collect in your eyes and Daryl is terrified he messed up, that maybe you didn't want this. Maybe this would feel too possessive to you, like you'd be tied down, like he'd be owning you. Before his thoughts can spiral too out of control, you kiss him. You kiss him so hard and so passionately, Daryl almost falls backwards.

"I'd love to marry you." Daryl grips at your hips and you clutch at his shoulders. He rests his forehead against yours.

"I don't have a damn ring," Daryl says. He pulls out the little scrap of fabric from his vest, taking hold of you hand. He ties the little scrap around your finger, rubbing over your ring finger when he's done. "That'll have to do for now."

"It's a piece of your vest?" Daryl nods, and you grin so brightly, you almost light up the entire room. "Now I always have a little part of my Angel with me."

Daryl smiles, his chest feeling warmer than ever before. He shoves you down into the bed and follows quickly, pulling you up to lay on his chest. You laugh and admire the makeshift ring adorning your left hand.

"You're my Angel."

Daryl's eyes crack open to the sound of a door creaking and is immediately met with bright sunlight. A deep sigh is what causes him to open his eyes fully. Isabelle is standing by the door, fresh clothes in hand with a disappointed look on her face.

"Mother Superior won't be happy," she says. Daryl looks to your form curled up next to him, and he couldn't care less. You roll over to face Isabelle and grin so brightly, Daryl's heart might just burst.

"But we're married," you say, your voice still sleepy, while throwing out your hand from under the covers to show off the 'ring.' You look so proud Daryl can't help but smile. "Got married last night."

"What?" Daryl isn't sure if she looks more confused or shocked. "You got married? Last night?"

"Yeah," Daryl replies nonchalantly, throwing his legs off the bed to stand.

"You need someone to marry you, you can't just decide your married." Isabelle looks amused now as she places the clothing on the dresser.

"What for?" You ask, sitting up. "Like Daryl said, there's no marriage licensing or anything."

"Yes, but you could still be married in the eyes of God," Isabelle says, a thoughtful look on her face.

"We ain't catholic," Daryl says, reaching to grab the clothes Isabelle placed on the dresser. She pushes his hand away.

"Humor us," she says, getting met with confused looks from both you and Daryl. "Let us put something together. I'm sure no one will mind a little wedding."

You and Daryl tried to refuse, but it seems nuns are very convincing. Or maybe it's just because they're all women. Soon you and Daryl are getting set up in makeshift wedding attire. Daryl is getting prepped up in the clothing closest to a tux while nuns are creating a dress for you. Sewing and pinning up a white garnet they found to resemble something of a wedding gown.

Daryl was less than ecstatic, but he saw how happy you looked when you rushed by him to get fitted into the gown and he was suddenly ok with it all. The next time he saw you, it was while he was at the alter.

The women had made a trail of different fabrics to make a sort of carpet trail to the alter. Your white dress stands out against the multitude of colors of the carpet. Daryl's eyes flit from your dress to your sparkling eyes to your contagious grin before settling on the fabric tied in a knot around your finger.

He can't take his eyes off you.

Even when you finally make it across from him and Mother Superior begins to read from the Bible can he focus on anything but you. The foreign words are the last thing on his mind.

"I love you," you mouth to him, smiling with tears glistening your eyes. Daryl feels tears begin to prick at his own.

"Love you, too," he mouths back. He's nudged slightly by the young boy, and that's what brings him back. "Huh?"

"Say 'I do,'" Laurent mumbles, causing the nuns to laugh.

"Oh, yeah, I do," Daryl says, feeling a blush creep up his neck. You smile at him, causing him to smile back and forgetting the slight embarrassment. After a few more words read from the holy book, the officiate turns to you.

"I do," you say with a watery laugh. A tear finally falls and Daryl is swift with wiping it away. After a few more words, the book is closed, and she motions for you to kiss.

Daryl crashes his lips to yours without a seconds hesitation. You hum into his lips and Daryl can feel your tears drip down. He pulls away, to realize it was his own tears he felt. You grin happily, brushing away his tears with your thumbs.

"We're married," you say, quietly. Daryl feels his heart miss a beat and he can't help press another firm kiss to your lips.

It's decided the journey to deliver Laurent will begin tomorrow. One day of resting up and celebrating the newlyweds. You're the happiest Daryl has seen since you left to look for Rick. He keeps finding himself grinning to himself seeing you so happy, chatting with Isabelle and Sylvie and eating delicious food. Even indulging in a little homemade wine tucked away for special occasions.

"Hey, you," you whisper, winding your arms around Daryl's neck. You teeter on your feet, just a bit tipsy on the wine. Your grin is so happy and free, so infectious, Daryl grins back. "Having fun?" He shrugs.

"I like watching you have fun." He twirls a little piece of your hair. You frown, Daryl rubs it away with his thumb which results in a kiss on his finger tips. "I'd have more fun if we were alone," he murmurs in your ear, kissing the shell. You smack him lightly on the shoulder and giggle.

"This is a house of God, Daryl." He shrugs at your teasing. You rock back and forth between your left and right foot, fingers twisting around the curls at the back of his neck. Suddenly, you look thoughtful as you gaze at him.

"What?" He questions.

"I just wish Carol and Maggie could be here, our family." You shrug, looking down. "I miss them, Jude and RJ, too. All of them." He kisses your forehead and gently lifts up your chin to meet his eyes.

"We'll have to have a party when we get back." Daryl kisses your forehead again, lips moving down to your temple.

"Yeah, ok," you say, nodding and smiling again, happy at the thought of celebrating with your family. "A nice party after our honeymoon."

"Honeymoon?" Daryl asks with a smirk. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Uh, we're in France," you say, a look on your face screaming 'obviously.' "We're going to Paris on our way to deliver Laurent, right?" Daryl nods and snorts.

"You think the Eiffel Tower's still standin'?" You drop your hand from the back of his neck to poke his side, a shocked expression on your face.

"Don't burst my bubble! Of course it's still standing!" You exclaim. Daryl concedes and nods, lifting his hands palms out to put them in a surrendering stance. "I've always wanted to go to Paris. I never imagined I'd have a destination wedding."

Daryl never imagined he'd have a wedding in general. Never thought he'd find someone so loving and amazing as you. As Daryl gazes lovingly into your eyes, hands spread out on your back, he knows he's made the right choice.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #the walking dead: daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fic

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ptn-imagines · 3 months

Note

Can you do Suspect R x pre amnesia! chief? ik there's not a lot of content for her but they give such domestic married wives energy like

LOOK AT THIS. its fine if u dont accept, ther are PLENTY other ptn womens i thirst after so....

Oh, I will absolutely write for Suspect R despite her lack of content. In fact, I was hoping someone would ask!

Due to the lack of content on both her and Chief pre-amnesia, I ended up focusing more on the feelings they may have shared more than anything else, using the glimpses of Shepherd-12 we see in Shalom's interrogation as a guide. If this isn't to your satisfaction, feel free to send in another request! Praying that chapter 14 marks the return of the OG wife...

Suspect R x Pre-Amnesia!Chief

Once upon a time, her name was the one they loved the most. In a world where everyone wanted to use or betray them, she was the only one they trusted whole-heartedly. Shepherd-12 adored her.

As truths were unveiled and lies became unmasked and Shepherd-12 became more and more jaded to the world, she was the only one spared of hissing and biting. Only she could melt the icy protective layer upon the Shepherd’s heart, for only she could be trusted with it. Only she had pure intentions.

Secret trysts and rendezvous, the Shepherd was always so tense until the face of the nameless official melted away to reveal their lover, who perched on the edge of their desk like she belonged there. She did belong there. And the Shepherd abhorred the idea of belonging to anyone, anyone except for her. They would give themself over to her in a heartbeat, and they would drown in her, and it would be a sweet way to die.

They are a creature of Mania, but this Sinner is their salvation. She makes them feel human in a way that nobody and nothing else does, and they know that fate will never be kind to them so they relish these precious moments, and they love her eternally and devotedly and without regret nor restraint.

She loves them in kind for she knows this is what they need. They will never speak their thank yous aloud but she knows; how could she not? Even if the world should revile them, see them as monsters (and it did), the two of them would have each other. They need nothing else.

She holds them so close as though she attempts to meld their flesh as one. They greedily kiss her deeper, hotter, as though trying to exchange pieces of their souls with each entwined breath. She is both the untamed tempest that will inevitably drown them and the singular piece of driftwood that keeps them afloat in the storm.

Nothing else matters. Nobody else matters. Let the world burn to ash. The Shepherd would welcome it. The world is rotten to the core. So are they. Only she remains pure in an endless sea of filth. Only she is the truth among the lies.

“My dearest, your heart is becoming so black,” she whispered one night, and they didn’t know it then but this would be the final time they saw her like this. Her fingers caressed their face and they purred, leaning into the touch.

“They don’t deserve any more,” they breathed, nails digging into her back as though they were afraid they might slip through their fingers. “They can go to Hell for all I care. You’re the only thing that matters.”

She smiled at this and pulled them into another deep kiss. This one felt different, like a goodbye, but it was still filled with every ounce of passion and fire and desire and need and belonging they had come to expect. “You know it won’t end like this.”

“I know.” They detest the fact. She makes it bearable. She’s the only reason they haven’t torn the world asunder yet, because she is part of that world. “But you’ll be there, won’t you?”

She smiled. “Always. Don’t sleep for too long, or I might have to come and get you myself…”

…

Shepherd-13 always wakes from the dreams of these memories too soon, these ghosts banished with the rise of the sun over this corrupt city.

What was her name?

If they could choose anything to remember, it would be this.

#ptn #path to nowhere #ptn suspect r #path to nowhere suspect r #suspect r #ptn headcanons #path to nowhere headcanons #headcanons

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dilftaroooo · 1 year

Text

a lil something for my black gorls bc apparently every reader in this fandom is fair skinned </3

oh lord ghost turns into holy spirit bc of how much he worships u and yo body goodness gracious (i am so sorry father god 💀🧎🏽‍♀️). got carried away. p.s. yall i haven’t written anything in a hot minute so this small thirst might be raggedy as hell (my coochie was doin the thinking)

tags: smut + afab reader + ghost loves you sm + just as much as u love him + finger lickin good pussy eatin + body worship + slight dumbification + i was planning on making him rough with u but then i went soft :) + p power + piv sex + barely proofread + im so sleepy i’ll probably edit the format later + forgot how much i fucking hate tumblr’s editing antics.

You had lost count already. How many times you came to be exact. Has it gone up to Two? Three? Yeah—three. At least that’s what you think. Well—you suppose thinking is starting to become more and more of a rare luxury considering the state you were in—dazed and stupid. Eyes decorated with a red glow from the tears that spilled from them along with a glossy sheen that finished the look.

Subtle hints of wet mascara slid down the apples of your cheeks as Ghost’s fingers delve deep within your wet entrance. His digits were more than acquainted to the slimy ridges that lived inside of you. He graciously pets your most sensitive spots with the utmost care, making your pussy scream as his moist lips kisses your bothered clit as though he’s cooing it to sleep. His tender nature juxtaposes the foreboding gleam of his skull mask and dark eyes drowning in war paint.

It’s those eyes. The ones that made you shiver and whine whenever they catch sight of you. The ones that glare under dim, yellow lights when you inevitably made him jealous. Enough to make them turn green. The ones that form crescent moons whenever he reminds you how much he loves you (the mild appearance of crow’s feet adorning the outer corners). Those eyes—

God, those big fucking eyes.

Sweat makes your melanin coated skin glisten, emitting a warm glow that send tingles up Ghost’s spine. He can feel the goosebumps covering his body as you inadvertently arch your back, pushing your warm sex up against his upper lip, making him groan into your sensitive nub. Your core tighten once more, your pedicured toes stretched across the apex of his back, polish chipped and damaged from irritation, the power of your orgasm jolting you with a hot flash.

Now it's your fourth time.

Brown areolas raise up and down from your big breaths, in the process of coming down from that high you’ve encountered just a second ago. But Ghost doesn’t know rest as he gorges your nipple in his mouth, adoring the quick yelp escaping your lips.

“Ah, Ghost…” You say with kind fragility. Your palms lightly tap his shoulder. Not telling him to stop but telling him to slow down. It was too much. His hands caressed your naked curves. He loved admiring your body. Taking the time to relish just how gorgeous you really are—from head to toe:

Your cornrows styled in intricate parts, freshly layered with the tropical smell of coconuts. Skin gleaming with the overly used shea butter that rarely missed a day off your body. Lips full and plump and coated with that cherry chapstick he loves to taste. Your breast were round and soft to the touch. And your pussy—Fuck, that pussy shined with your juices. Juices he created from fucking you silly with his fingers.

Ghost wasn’t a religious man. He never was. But of all the possible religions out there, your pussy was the one he worshiped the most.

He loved this pussy. Kneeled for this pussy. Prayed for this pussy.

Your being was his shrine and your name was his mantra. He couldn’t get enough of you and your light touches and gentle praises. Ghost couldn’t find more ways to thank you for your existence.

He releases your nipple with a soft pop and utters a voice lower than you’ve ever heard him use, “I need you, love.” You don’t take long to nod with evident fervor. Languidly aiding him in unbuckling his pants and releasing him from those tight restraints.

“I need you,” He repeats. “need that soaking wet cunt.” His Mancunian accent is thick and laced with desire when his mouth spewed that last word. You let go of a wanting mewl before spreading the dark, puffy lips that lead to your sopping wet hole. Just what he wanted.

You both moan in unison as you both get what you want. His hand engulfed yours and you’re quickly reminded of how big he is. His fingers are long and thick. Your legs twitch as you remember how they feel rubbing inside you. He leisurely finds his way deep in your sex. Your tightness pains him in the way that he likes. Leaning down to grunt into your ear, nose filled with that familiar coconut scent, you clench around him when his teeth bites down at the shell of your ear.

He loves you. He loves you so much—your hair, your eyes, your lips, your smile, your voice, your taste, your scent. You’re wonderful. Breathtaking. Beautiful. So so beautiful. He’s so glad he has you. That you’re in his arm moaning so prettily for him. And its almost unbelievable to him that you think of him the same way he thinks of you.

Once your breathing gets heavier and his thrusts gets sloppier and your eye starts twitching, you both finally succumb to the hot rush of pleasure. You don’t object to his heavy weight toppling over you after he fills you up (you encourage it with a hug despite how heavy he is). It feels good—laying like this. So intimate. You pet the back of his head taking in his warmth. Time passes before he slowly looks up at you, his eyes the same temperature as both of your bodies meshed together, and he suddenly states,

“That’s your fifth one, doll.” And you can’t help the quiet snicker that leaves you before giving him a playful slap to his arm, telling him to shut up. You somehow manage to catch a small glimpse of him rolling his eyes beneath that inky mask of his. This was intimate indeed. You finish off the night with a kiss to his forehead and you felt your heart flutter when he answered with a subdued hum.

#ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #mw2 smut #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 smut #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost mw2 #black reader

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saursoob · 7 months

Text

traitor- FOUR: tyuns plans? pt 2

synopsis: you and yeonjun were best friends for most of your life’s but he’d recently gotten into a toxic relationship with someone you’ve never liked, he knew that and still decided to be with her. though you’d never thought he’d go to the extent of cutting you off because of her. much less expect that years later he’d make his way back into your life.

| prev | masterlist | next | • (word count: 455)

you were dying of boredom and thirst. you and jay had been in this cafe for what felt like hours, which it probably was.

getting up from your seat to stretch you suggest to jay. “im kinda thirsty how about we get some refreshers? plus i am in desperate need of a break.”

jay gets up sighing in relief “thank god my brain hurts”

you laugh at his response, “i thought you were supposed to be my tutor?” he looks back at you with squinted eyes and furrowed eyebrows “hey i only offered because we both need it”

you chuckle, getting in line with jay when you suddenly hear a familiar voice ordering in front of you. it sounded like.. soobin?

you scanned the cafe nervously to see if yeonjun was around and sure enough there he was with taehyun and kai. sitting at a table near the door, luckily away from where you were sitting.

you felt a bit of relief for a moment, that was until taehyun spotted you. you immediately broke eye contact hoping he somehow didn’t see you. you thought, surely he wouldn’t come up to you or something? you thought wrong.

“y/n its been a while!” taehyun spoke. feeling a pit in your stomach all you could muster up to say was “haha! yeah it has!” your voice slightly breaking from nervousness between a fake chuckle. by this point you could feel yeonjun’s and his entire friend group’s eyes on you.

thankfully jay was there to break the tension, “oh, you must be one of y/n’s old friends?”

taehyun immediately responded with a small smile “yeah, we haven’t spoken in a while but i was hoping on changing that. y/n do you think we can speak outside?”

you quickly look at jay for confirmation to which he simply nods slightly giving you the “okay”.

you followed taehyun and as soon as you were both outside he started speaking. “i know this might seem weird considering everything but yeonjun is going through a really hard time right now. i assume he’s texted you about it?”

your heart heavy as you nodded “yeah he did text me about it.”

taehyun sighs, “well, i guess im not surprised. he acts like he’s fine with us but i know hes not. i mean who could? being in a 3 year toxic relationship…”

you felt terrible, guilty that you didn’t respond to yeonjun’s text.

there was a moment of silence before taehyun started talking again. “but thats not what i wanted to talk to you about. i don’t want to say it now though, would you mind if i texted you?”

you knew you shouldn’t but- “yeah go ahead my number is still the same”

(a few days later)

YALL BETTER BE FEDDDD WITH THIS EP BC IT TOOK ME SAUR LONG FOR WHAT??? I USED TO BE HORRENDOUS AT WRITING WHEN I STARTED THIS BLOG OMG i literally hate writing ‼️ one of the reasons why i make texts but lmk if this is acceptable ☝️

tags: (@bbinwrld @soobsfairy444 @stqrgr7 @nishik1 @skittlez-area512 @odisdad @zonked-times @vocaloshin @vixensss)

#yeonjun social media au #choi yeonjun smau #yeonjun smau #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun imagines #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt smau #kpop fics #yeonjun angst #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun texts #yeonjun x you #traitor

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formulapai · 5 months

Note

Can u write a song about Haunted or Let You Break My Heart Again by Laufey?? (Thank you btww 🙏)

hi dearest !! I’ll choose the first one and pick Pierre !! thank you ♥️

warning : alcohol, mildly +18

“One more kiss, wine stained lips

I don't want to go to sleep yet”

It always ends like this, it shouldn’t surprise you anymore. Your lips are interlocked, fingers clawing at each other’s clothes, breath ragged as desperate sounds leave your lips. You’re a sight to see, an absolute treat for Pierre’s eyes and he takes his sweet time savoring each details of your skin as if he’s not acquainted with them already. The taste of red wine on your lips is almost as tantalizing as the taste of your essence, a divine nectar he finds himself craving when he’s away from you. He’d spend hours, days even, quenching his thirst for you, drenched in your perfume. Who needs sleep when he has you ?

“Pale moonlight, misty eyes

I'll allow myself to have him just tonight”

You haven’t learned your lesson as you let him drag you to the bed, pieces of fabric falling on the floor rhythmically. The blinds are not yet closed, a mesmerizing silver light embracing your curves and reflecting in his blue eyes, obligating you to focus your gaze somewhere else in fear of drowning in them once again. It’s always his damn eyes and their earnestness, telling you things his mouth could never. You wish it would, you wish it could, tell you everything you want to hear, everything he’s confessing with his touch but he’s not letting himself break his walls down, not now, probably not ever. So you let him push you on the bed once again, let him love you with his body once again. It’s the only love you’ll ever receive from him.

“I swear to myself as he leaves at dawn

This will end, 'til he haunts me again”

His back is marred with scratches as he gets up, muscle flexing under the red skin before it’s covered with his white shirt and out of your reach. For once, he spars you a longing glance, a silent goodbye before he strokes your hair and silently leave the room and the apartment, leaving you in the now too big, too cold bed. Your heart prays it’s the last time but your body already calls for his, not caring much about anything but the way his arms feel wrapped around your waist and the smell of his breath on your lips.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly #f1 smut #pierre gasly smut

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ticklish-n-stuff · 8 months

Text

Tickletober day #4: Weak spot

The difference of writing RuiKasa when I want to vs when its requested is ASTONISHING. I haven't had this much fun writing a pjsekai fic since idk, and for my ot4 nonetheless💖

Special thanks to @mayatkls & @kairoscler for helping me come up with this idea + all the brainrot shared lmao

___________________________________________

Rui x Tsukasa (poly wxs)

Lee: Rui

Ler: Tsukasa

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

Throughout his time in WonderlandsxShowtime, Tsukasa has witnessed many sides of Rui. From his genius inventions, to his more riskier ones; his serious moments and at his most vulnerable. Yet, he can’t ever recall seeing Rui laughing genuinly, only that silly “fufufu~” he does. As cute as it is, he needed more to satiaste his thirst for laughter. That was when Nene gave him the marvelous idea to ‘get it out himself’. Pretty vague idea, and yet it was enough to get the gears turning in Tsukasa’s head.

Later during rehearsal, Tsukasa pulled Emu aside, claiming he had a top secret mission for her.

“Really?! What is it?!” the pinkette bounced in excitement.

“Quiet down! We can’t let Rui know, now here’s what I want you to do…” the blonde whispered out his plan and before long, Emu went dashing for Rui.

“Rui-kun! Rui-kun!” she chirped out cheerfully as she found the purple haired male toying with Robo-Nene.

“Oh? What brings you here, Emu-kun?~” Rui had his usual sly grin, but that would soon change, hopefully.

“Tsukasa-kun wanted me to ask you if you’re ticklish!” Emu spoke with an innocent smile, while said troupe leader smacked himself in the forehead from the corner he was peaking through.

“Fufu~ Is that so? Then why don’t you tell him to find out himself~” Rui shot a playful wink at Tsukasa’s direction, earning a flustered grumble. The blonde had enough and decided to swallow down his pride this once and approach the target.

“C’mon, answer the question” Tsukasa tried to appear stern, placing his hands on his hips, earning another ‘fufu~’ from Rui.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not” he stuck his tongue out cheekily, but before hope was lost, Nene intervened.

“Kamishiro Rui, we both know that’s a lie”

“Ahh okay okay, I admit. But will our dear troupe leader be able to find my tickle spot?~”

This whole mission was supposed to make Rui crumble in laughter, and yet Tsukasa found himself wanting to run away from embarrassment.

No!

He had to stay strong, in the name of research!... Or something like that. With a gulp, he spoke “Challenge accepted”.

After a moment of awkwardly reaching out to Rui, Tsukasa’s hands started to poke and prod at the usual tickle spots. His stomach, his sides, ribs, under his arms, but all he got was that stupid smug smirk that always turned him to goo.

“Oh c’mon! It’s gotta be somewhere!” the blonde groaned in frustration.

“I’d lend you a hand, but I think you’ll get there soon…~” Nene spoke in a slight teasing tone, causing Rui to send her a sheepish glare. His first flustered reaction of the day! But what did Nene mean by that? Could it be…

“Hmm…” Tsukasa trailed his short nails down Rui’s arms, watching as goosebumps arose over the skin. The closer he got to the palm of his hand, the more Rui’s nervous smile grew. “No way, is it your hands?!” Tsukasa spoked in complete fascination, oblivious to how flustered it made Rui feel. He slowly circled his nails all over his palm, causing Rui’s fingers to twitch as he let out soft gasps and quiet giggles to himself.

“I- Aehehe! Yehes, you found it! You can stahap nohohow..!”

Tsukasa’s face morphed to a mischevious grin “Stop? But I still haven’t gotten a genuine laugh out of you!” the troupe leader spoke out in his dramatic theater voice. “Any suggestions from the croud? Hmm… how about you, with the pink hair and overly energetic personality!”.

“Yay!~” Emu cheered as she got closer to Rui’s ticklish hand, inspecting it with pressision. “How about… tickly kisses?!”

“You guhuys there’s no need- EEK?!” Rui’s face instantly flared up at the sudden squeal that rippled out of his throat, causing everyone in the room to stop and look at him, before they all burst out laughing in unison. Even Nene couldn’t hold herself back.

The greenette doubled over in laughter as Emu practically rolled on the floor from glee, while Tsukasa tried to steady himself on Rui’s shoulder.

“Ihi’m sorry! But… you hahave to admit, that was pretty cute~” Tsukasa shot a playful grin to Rui, causing the alchemist’s blush to grow in intensity. “And all tjat from a kiss! I wonder what happens when I…”

“When you- EHEEHEEP?! WAHAIT! TSUKASA! NOHOHO!” Rui giggled and squealed like a child as he felt Tsukasa’s teeth graze the sensitive skin, leaving little nips and kisses wherever he went. The girls watched in awe the show in front of them. After a while, Tsukasa stopped to admire the beauty that was Rui giggling so high-pitched, cheeks fully red, and the brightest smile he had seen from the director ‘till this day.

“I’ll say, this mission was a success!~” Tsukasa pumped his fist into the air with a victorious smile. Although that didn’t last long as he got jabbed in the side, making him squeal in turn.

“How about you, superstar? Any tickle spots?~” Rui grinned down evily. Tsukasa was instantly a blushing and stuttering mess.

“W-wait! Don’t try anything! Nene, Emu, save me‼!” the blonde’s voice fell deaf as it turned into unhinged, obnoxious louder.

“We’re fine from here. Have fun, leader…~” Nene gave a smirk as she and Emu watched this new spectacle unfold.

___________________________________________

#augtickletober2023 #tickletober2033 #project sekai #project sekai tickle #project sekai tickle fic #rui kamishiro #tsukasa tenma #lee!rui #ler!tsukasa

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oniku-niku · 2 years

Photo

You were busy running around the studio trying to clean everything up for when the others came by. Just as you put the drill back on its rightful hook, someone came through the door.

“Yoho~, (Y/n)! How’ve ya been doin’, babe?” the familiar voice of Hatsume Mei rang out. She slung an arm over your shoulders in a side hug before going to check out the stuff you’ve been working on.

“Hatsume! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’ve been doing okay, just working on one of the machines for the training grounds.” you greeted her.

“I’ve been meaning to drop by! But you know class 1A and thirst for destroying their gear. Keeps me so busy.” she sighed. You rolled your eyes playfully before nodding along.

“Don’t I know it. You want to help me finish up these last pieces?” she enthusiastically nodded at the offer and picked up one of the wrenches.

“So get this. One of the students that were assigned to me had to drop out!” Your eyes widened as you two were twisting on the bolts.

“Yeah! He got so cocky about his skills that he ended up assaulting someone for beating him during the training exams. It was crazy, they had to have security drag him AND his family out after they threw a fit in principal Nezu’s office.”

“No way, so you’re one person short?” You asked, screwing on the last bolt. She nodded before standing up to admire the work.

“Yeah, but I don’t mind, I think they’re trying to work something else out for me. Hey, I can bring this baby down to the grounds for you, it’s on my way back to my dorm before I leave.” she offered.

“You’d do that? Yes, please, thank you so much!” you thanked her as she grinned. Her arms easily lifted the machine onto a platform cart and wheeling it out of the studio with one last wave to you before she was gone.

You were just wiping the grease off your face just as someone else walked through the doors.

“Oi, Nerd.” That gruff, rude, greeting could only belong to the one person you were avoiding all week. You turned around to see Katsuki standing there as the doors swung behind him. His hands were buried in his pockets as he stared at you. You hated to admit it but you missed his stupid annoyed face. You missed talking to him, and you hated how, even after getting into a little fight with him, he still made butterflies swarm your stomach at just the sight of him standing there looking back at you.

Your eyes lingered on his form before they caught the movement beside him. There stood who you could only assume was Fumi. Her eyes were taking in your figure, looking you up and down as a way for her to make out who you were. You noticed one of her eyebrows quirk up as if she was scoffing at you as she unhooked her arm from Katsuki’s.

“Hi! I’m Fumi! It’s nice to meet you!” she greeted cheerfully, but there was an edge in her voice and her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Oh, hi. I’m-”

“(Y/n), I know. I’ve heard a lot about you.” she cut you off as she looked around the studio. She grimaced as her eyes ran over the tools resting on the wall and the black soot in spots where machines have failed a few times.

“Tch. I’m not here to make conversation. Can I have my stuff now?” Bakugou asked. You quietly went over to where his gear was kept and took it back over to him. He examined it upon getting a hold of it.

“Are there any new additions that I should know about?” he grumbled, looking at the spots where he damaged to see it was fixed like new.

“Nope. Just fixed the stuff you said to.” you quickly responded, not wanting to meet his eyes as the last conversation you two had ran through your mind. He doesn’t consider you as a friend apparently. There were so many thoughts running through your head and none of them were helping the situation.

“That’s a first. Well, I got what I needed, let’s go Fumi.” he cast a last look, hoping to meet your eyes (though you didn’t know, you were looking at everything but him). His hand went to grab Fumi’s as a last resort of getting a reaction out of you, but his shoulders fell when you didn’t. The two made their way from the studio, Fumi shooting you a last glance before she moved herself even closer to him as if to tell you to lay off. Even if she was trying to glare at you, you didn’t want to think that she had bad intentions, you barely knew her. She might be a good person for him anyway, who knows.

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caramel1mochi · 6 months

Text

ぐちゃ ! (Splat!) [Yoru x F! Reader] [5]

Guess who's back! And we're SO CLOSE to the finale I can taste it!!! And probably move on to Iso because oh my lord

I've been given much more free time now and I'm gonna try to go back to posting every Friday like I did before. But I can't promise consistency with everything going on, so if I miss a deadline you'll know why!

❤ฺ·。

Yoru x F! Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5 / Part 5 / Part 6

Genre: so much fluff I was blushing while writing this

Words: 8k GUESS WHO HAD TO SPLIT THIS IN 2

Synopsis: Hapless doesn't even begin to describe you. With your life flipped upside down within the span of a day; you're left to rely on your best friend Tala to help you pick up the pieces and build the new one forced upon you. And this 'luck' seems to have caught the attention of one of her friends.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

You hadn’t forgotten the sight that befell you once you opened your eyes. Like initials branded on a cattle, it would stick with you.

You coughed and coughed before finally taking in some clean air. Then you waved away the suffocating debris and looked at the pile of cement that imprisoned you. A tinge of fright tugged at you, sure, but it wasn’t until something rich in colour caught your eye. On the left was what looked like a drop of blood. Within a few seconds, it increased, morphing into a pretty pool of vivid crimson, gleaming under the monitor’s bright light. You gagged and clutched your mouth, sweat dripping down your chin.

Raze was killed. And you were the culprit.

Both of you sat silently in the cold seats of the aircraft. And unfortunately for him; you still hadn’t caught on to the poison that still lingered throughout the confined area.

“So, uh…”

You muttered.

“Raze is– she’s, uh, she’s dead. Is that… Is that gonna be a problem?”

…

“No, why?”

“Well, you know, this was supposed to be, a– uh, a no casualty mission…”

Yoru flipped his butterfly comb in silence for a moment. That was never outright stated. All that was said was that this was expected to be a simple one, that’s it. Even your bosses were baffled at the mirrors’ presence.

“I talked to them over the radio. They gave us the go to kill them. You didn’t hear?”

“No– no, I uh, I– I didn’t hear anything.”

You noticed the sudden awkward motion whilst he flicked his blade, but that was the only ‘emotion’ you could go off of, not after he returned back to his normal and repetitive movement.

“That’s fine. We’re done, anyway.”

You weakly nodded, staring at the metal flooring of the vehicle.

You didn’t know whether you should thank him, or not. You didn’t even know what his agenda was, taking so much time to help you like this. Last time he helped you, it was because he didn’t want you to get in his way.

What was his reason now?

You sighed and instead worked to get the image of the murder out of your head.

❤ฺ·。

The rest of the day was a blur, considering you immediately rushed back to your room and slept it all off, despite your unrelenting thirst. Even with his help, panicking like that alongside how much effort it took from you to produce the poison, your entire arm was incredibly sore. Just moving it a few inches sent a stabbing sensation through your muscles.

Your phone buzzed with a few dozen texts. Some even thought of knocking on your door, but quickly left you alone once they saw the darkness inside.

And with that, you’d spent it all either sleeping, or staring at the ceiling in silence. Your mind was still stuck on that pool of blood. And with how long it took Yoru to arrive at the scene, you watched it coagulate. By god, you still couldn’t forget, no matter how much you tried.

You killed Raze. And to this moment, you still haven’t been able to let that sink in.

Maybe…

Okay, maybe you just needed some fresh air. Staying cooped up like this shouldn’t be healthy, no matter how much your anxiety tried to convince you to sleep in for another day. Besides, Neon sent you a text earlier. You could spend your time with her and fully calm yourself down. Also, you were still thirsty. Like, unbearably so.

You slid out of bed and cleaned yourself up to look the least bit presentable before leaving.

Just as you took a step forward, you almost tripped on a bag set on the floor; cursing before you caught yourself. You had no idea how you didn't see it, not when every light in your room was turned on. But your anger was curt once the cute logo caught your eye. It was a boutique only you and Neon frequented. Did she put this here whilst you slept? How sweet.

You took the bag and set it on your bed, taking out the items inside. And they were an extremely pleasant surprise. A pair of short black jeans and fishnet stockings. High quality, of course.

Great...

You already felt like you were stepping out of your comfort zone with a choker. Now, the only thing you can pair this with is a black hoodie you brought along. Might as well, huh? Sure, you lacked confidence, but you still considered yourself cute as heck.

Stepping out into the hallways, the air that hit your legs felt like a whip even with the 'protection' of the stockings. You left for one morning, and Neon came back with clothes probably from a fashion runway. But, to be fair, you couldn't really be mad at her, not when every hint of anxiety immediately melted at the sight of her innocent face once you finally arrived at the cafeteria.

She beamed with joy once she saw you. And before you knew it, you were pulled into a painfully tight hug.

“A/N, you made it!”

You placed one hand on her back, struggling to reassure her with a gentle pat on the back.

“M– morning–”

She squeezed, unintentionally forcing the air out of you even further.

“You were gone for a whole day, what happened?”

Gekko piped up from behind. Thankfully, Neon immediately relaxed her firm embrace to give you a chance to speak. Pfft. So she did know what she was doing.

“Didn’t Yoru tell you?”

They shrugged. And surveying the group that sat around the sofa, you couldn’t find any sign of the Japanese. And you felt… disappointed. But also relieved. You didn’t want to hear his opinion on your outfit, especially since you boldly put on the spiked choker today.

“All he said was that you needed a moment. Wasn’t it a scouting mission, something like that?”

You blushed at his comment, turning your gaze away. But thankfully, like the guardian angel that she was, Neon immediately switched the subject as she so lovingly scrutinised you like a cat she was about to purchase.

“You wore the clothes we gave you! You know me and Jett scoured the street for high quality fishnets? You should wear them for tonight when we go out!”

Your face turned white, and you awkwardly laughed.

“Uh– already? Where to?”

“To a Korean barbeque restaurant! There’s this new one that just opened in Insadong, and Jett’s taking us to it to celebrate your first mission! If Gekko wasn’t such a wuss, he’d JOIN US.”

You jumped at the volume of her voice. She threw a dirty look at the Angeleno, who waved her off and went back to scratching Wingman’s armour plates.

“Bite me, I’m not going in this sweater after last time!”

They continued bickering over his sacrilegious decision, but you weren’t focused on it.

Going out so soon when you haven’t even processed your actions sounded horrifying. Damn Yoru. If only he dropped the nice act just this once and told them exactly what had happened, you would have a viable excuse to spend the rest of your day eating crisps in your room. Also, you’d probably yell at him later, but he was a sponge when it came to being scolded… sometimes.

Without warning, you were pulled aside to the doorway on the other side and forced to practically jog to keep up with Neon’s speed.

“OW–! Chill, my arm!”

Neon immediately let go, but kept walking backwards in order to face you as she spoke.

“Woah, what’s up? Did you get hurt?”

“It’s still sore from yesterday, dummy.”

And today… you spent most of your time struggling to keep the poison under control once you got back. She awkwardly scratched the back of her head, and made the obvious decision; switched to your left so that she can freely rip off your good arm.

“Jett’s still messing around with Raze back in the workshop. I’ll tell her, then we can go. Maybe she can also steal Thrash for us. She’s spunky, you know? I bet she’s a food critic.”

She spoke too many words too quickly for you to keep up, but your mind barely clung onto a quarter of it.

“Who the hell is Thrash?”

“She’s one of Gekko’s buddies! He has, like, three, something like that. And they’re all as cute as Wingman!”

“I haven’t seen Gekko’s yellow pet in a long time. I didn’t know he had– ow!”

She elbowed you, successfully shutting you up.

“Hoy, don’t say pets! He gets offended.”

“What? But they’re animals.”

“Just don’t call them pets, it’s offensive to them. Say buddies, or something. I dunno.”

But… they’re animals.

You didn’t want to question the logic. As they say, fear the anger of a gentle man, even though Gekko looked like he’d struggle killing a fruit fly. But you weren’t one to talk, were you?

“Unrelated, but did you talk to your mom yet?”

You awkwardly fixed the spiked choker on your neck, taking a turn towards the workshop.

“You know, I don’t think she’s noticed I’ve been gone, yet.”

Both of you continued chatting about random topics, the light aura thankfully taking your mind off of the heaviness in your chest.

In fact, your mind wandered to something else. Even Yoru was confused at how the mission went yesterday. And he was the same guy who, you know, called you spineless because he didn’t believe you. No, you still haven’t forgotten. So much so, you started to wonder how today’s dinner-date between you and the two would go wrong.

Maybe the fact you couldn’t eat with your right hand would come to play. Like you’d spill food all over you. Or… maybe they’d mix up the food and give you something wrong. That usually happens.

❤ฺ·。

And until now; the top contender was an option you somehow haven’t considered; your anxiety getting the better of you. The restaurant looked nothing like the ones you were used to. Sure, there were tables, but there were charcoal grills on the centre of each of them.

And the loud chatter of the customers. It drove you mad. It felt like each of them stared at you as you walked.

You practically clung on to Neon until you each found your table. Both of them sat next to each other and you sat on the opposite side, but…

“Wait, there’s an empty seat here, why didn’t Gekko join us?”

You pointed to your right, earning Neon’s attention. Just the mention of his name made her roll her eyes.

“He doesn’t want the smell of the meat to ruin his clothes again, or whatever..”

She mocked. But to you, it sounded like a fair reason.

“Uh… Doesn’t he have like, a plain shirt, or something?”

“Only that black one, and he doesn’t want it ruined, either. Anyway, Yoru wanted to tag along, he’ll be–”

You tuned out the rest of her words. Nevermind, it wasn’t the anxiety thing. Silly you. So, Yoru was going to be sitting right next to you, huh? On the day that you wore this, huh?

Ughhhhhhhhhhh…

“So, what meat do you guys want? I’m thinking some pork briskets! Oh, and, umm…”

“Chicken!”

Neon chimed in in excitement, and Jett matched the vibe with her equally massive grin.

“Yeah, chicken! Yo, A/N, you should come with, I’ll help you pick out the meat and everything!”

“Uh–”

You couldn’t say no, how could you? Jett’s smile was just so amiable, and to see it immediately fall when you decline would be worse than anything that could ever happen.

And so you stood up, moving to her right so that she would grab your left arm. And grab it she did, excitedly moving you away from the sanctuary that was the table you both sat at.

“Careful, right arm’s not working!”

Neon called out jokingly, earning a chirpy giggle from Jett as you marched towards the butcher. And immediately, she began chatting, sweeping your anxiety off its feet as much as she could. She seemed like she knew what she was doing, right? You could depend on her.

Given that she hadn't visited in almost a year, Jett was delighted once she’d discovered and finally gotten to the new section the butchers’ opened up. With a massive assortment of new meat to pick from, she was overjoyed, and you both picked out whatever sounded good at the moment. Those pork briskets she mentioned, ribeye, shortribs, pork belly, and even squid for the hell of it.

Sure, your left arm was fine, but your right one killed you from carrying the multitude of platters of food. And just as you thought to go back to your table, Jett stopped, finding a new type of beef neither of you have seen.

“Look at that! They have wagyu now!”

Just hearing the name added on to your increasing anxiety.

“Uh, that’s an expensive type of beef, right?”

You both began walking towards your table with your multiple platters of food, already witnessing a waitress setting a few small plates where Neon sat.

“Duh, that’s why I’m letting Neon pay if she wants some. I’m gonna tell her!”

“...Isn’t that blackmail?”

“Pshhh, blackmail, schmackmail. Fade blackmailed everyone and nobody had a problem with it!”

You gave her an odd look; but it wasn’t until your friend’s loud greeting immediately caught her attention. That, coupled with the fact your arm was killing you.

“Neon, guess what? I found wagyu back there! Wanna check it out?”

Just as the both of you approached the table, you immediately caught someone sitting right where you were prior to getting up. Yeah, it was Yoru, working at the fired-up charcoal grill with a monumental amount of disinterest. He moved the mesh with a pair of tongs seemingly set by the waitress, a pair of particularly thick and large scissors also set close-by.

Both of them left to check out the cutlets, leaving you alone with Yoru, and you awkwardly sat down next to him. But thankfully, there was still space between both of you.

And Yoru wasn’t exactly apathetic to your choice of clothing. In fact, he observed it from the corner of his eye. More specifically; your fishnet stockings and the choker. But you didn’t notice it until the last second, and he swiftly turned his gaze back to the food just as you looked at him. What was he doing? You thought to yourself.

After a few seconds, you finally mustered up all of your courage and spoke up, but again, he beat you to it first.

“What’s your style, exactly?”

…

“Uh, what? Like, my outfit?”

“Yeah.”

He grabbed the tongs you observed earlier and set a few chunks of beef on the mesh, searing them.

“Goth, why?”

“Goth? Huh. Neat.”

Your heart fluttered at this. First he stares, then he compliments you. Did that mission do something to him? You watched him turn the browned beef, despite his expression not changing.

"Hey, also, thanks for, uh, you know, helping me out."

…

"Whatever."

Nevermind. He took the scissors and began cutting them, oblivious to the confusion that overtook you.

"Can't you just accept a thank you for once?"

He set down the tongs and opened a drawer you hadn’t seen, taking out a set of metal chopsticks for two, but both were on his side. And of course, wet wipes, haphazardly tossing one over to you. Then, Yoru took a large piece of lettuce, and a few thinly sliced strips of browned beef.

"I won't accept it for doing my job. You wouldn't thank Sage for healing you, would you?"

"Yes I would!"

"Then that's a you problem."

With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you sat back and scrutinised him as he worked.

"So, when can I thank you?"

"When I make you a wrap."

You blinked.

"What–"

He neatly wrapped it and set it in front of you, before moving on to something else.

"Eat up."

Your face turned red, and you nervously took it. God, he was just too snarky.

"Oh, thank y– uh, thank you."

"No problem."

You nervously nibbled at a portion of the lettuce that stuck out, your mind running wild like yesterday wasn’t a thing anymore. He just complimented and made you food. And accepted your thank you! What was wrong with him today?!

You had a couple of boyfriends before. Predictably, all ended in a disaster, but none of them made your palpitations go into overdrive just by acknowledging your existence. Was this some sort of manifestation of his radiancy? Like how Neon’s electrifyingly cuteness made sense after you discovered she had powers.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

You watched him ignore the delectable bright red beef and specifically aim for the squid you and Jett brought.

“You said I'm not unlucky, right?”

Just by the way he paused for a nanosecond, you could tell he was aggravated at this topic. Were you trying to start an argument in public?

“Yep.”

“Then how can you explain the last mission? If it’s not luck, then why would the mirrors show up when they’re not supposed to?”

You sat up, a loud crunch nearly drowning out your words as you accidentally clutched the lettuce in your hands with an intense grip. Too intense. The sauce almost dripped out, but you quickly held it over your plate.

Yoru shrugged, dipping his squid in some kind of deep crimson sauce.

“Don’t know about you, but my omamori’s been expired since Neon called me to deal with you.”

…

“What the hell’s an omamori?”

Yoru shook his head, eating the small piece of squid that sat between his metal chopsticks. He forgot how little you stepped out of your comfort zone.

“It’s a good luck charm. You get it from a shrine.”

You watched him take another piece of squid.

“Shrine? Isn’t that a place to pray?”

“It is.”

You paused. And by his unchanging tone, he didn’t sound like he was joking.

“Since when were you religious?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! Uh– nothing.”

Yoru couldn't help but smile at your reaction and watch you nervously shrink back to your seat. Was it that hard to believe something like this? You’re the third person who was shocked at this revelation, he thought. But that’s why he was late today. He was getting a new omamori, apparently. Huh. Now that you thought about it, that explained a few… many things about him.

You slowly took a bite of your lettuce wrap, unsure whether to ask the few dozen questions that popped up. On another note, the wrap he made was unfathomably delicious.

"Hey guys! What were you talking about?"

Jett called out from behind, noticing the food in your hand. And it was a safe bet to say you both got along pretty well. You smiled as they sat down, Neon placing the platter of bright red beef right next to the squid.

"I just found out Yoru's religious. Can you believe it?"

"Really? Wait, didn't Neon tell you? She knew the whole time!"

"Like hell she did. Even I felt bad when I had to tell Sage I wasn't a buddhist."

You raised an eyebrow at Yoru’s interjection, noticing the Filipino rolling her eyes with diva-like exaggeration. Neon grabbed the tongs and began setting her cutlets on the mesh; searing it like Yoru did.

"What-ever. What's the difference between buddhism and shintoism, anyway?"

"At least we practise restraint."

Neon huffed with a red face.

"Hoy! We split the bill!" she mumbled, "And it's– you know, it's good to indulge once in a while! Healthy, even!"

Jett patted Neon on the back, ushering her to sit down. But even she couldn't stifle her laughter as expertly as Yoru did.

He definitely indulged a bit in your outfit, that’s for sure. But should you really be saying that?

"Going out to have fun sometimes is healthy, for your information. You could take a page out of Neon's book."

“I’m already doing too much by being here.”

The Korean waved him off, grabbing the large scissors to cut Neon’s beef once it was cooked properly.

“This? This is nothing. You should come with us next time Sage gets a break, it’s so fun to go to, like, at least seven places before the sun even sets!”

"I don’t have that kind of energy. And pass the jeot."

She complied.

You took a bite of your lettuce wrap as you watched them playfully bicker with each other, Neon and Jett miserably failing at convincing Yoru to go out with them more often. Though you took more of a backseat in this conversation than you normally would, it was hard not to. Watching someone like Yoru interact more calmly with people was just too addicting. He also looked pretty cute when he didn't have the face of someone about to gut you, but I digress.

❤ฺ·。

The night was fun. Super fun. And even though you all smelled like barbeque the moment you left, you were luckily endowed with an empty street to walk down, only a few passerby at this time of the night. Whilst they talked, Jett’s eyes roamed the nearby buildings as she pondered something she seemed keen on not sharing… until now.

“Yo, A/N, I’ve been thinking.”

“What’s up?”

“You ever hear of this one phrase that goes like; ‘fortune favours the bold’?”

You walked in silence for a moment, the sounds of tiny rocks crushed under your weight taking over for a moment.

“Uh, like once on a poster in my boss’s office. Why?”

Yoru already knew where this was going.

“I’m just saying, things would totally go your way if you were more… outspoken. You know?”

“I, uh, I guess, sure, but that’s kinda out of nowhere.”

“Jett gets philosophical when summer ends.”

Jett waved Yoru off with a smile.

“Come on, it’s good advice, I’m serious! Try it right now. So we’re walking around, yeah? And you suddenly see something. Look at that, uhhh… that building!”

She suddenly pointed to a convenience store across two roads, its bright neon lights shining brilliantly against the black and starless midnight sky.

“Okay, think confidence. You wanna go to that store, so, you tell us confidently. Come on, tell us!”

“I, uh, so… Can we go to that store?”

“No, say it like you mean it! Say it like you’re the boss!”

You cleared your throat and raised your voice higher than what you were comfortable with.

“Let’s go to that store.”

“There we go, that’s the spirit! Come on people, hop to!”

Jett grabbed Neon and your wrists, moving towards the store with a peculiar amount of joy in her movements. Neither you nor your Filipino friend could tell what was up, but unbeknownst to both of you, Yoru already read her like a book.

And with an audible ding that was accentuated by the present stillness of the store, that’s where you and Yoru stopped.

“You know Jett played you, right?”

“Why?”

“Look at her, she just wanted soda.”

You both watched Jett who, instead of looking around and taking in the atmosphere like you two did, quickly moved towards the fridge aisle. Neon awkwardly followed from behind. But instead of sharing his pessimism; you allowed a smile to paint your features.

“But I got a life lesson out of it! If I don’t want that last mission to happen again, I need to stop being so spineless. And that starts now.”

Oh but when he said it, you got mad. Maybe that mission knocked some sense into you, he thought, but he thought better than to say that out loud.

“Whatever, just don’t do it around me.”

He immediately disappeared to the makeup aisle and left you alone. Classic, sure, but you noticed one awry thing whilst you were both talking; he didn’t even look at you once. Now that you thought about it, he hasn’t been looking at you since he scrutinised you before dinner.

…

You shrugged and decided to move to where the lipsticks were, a fashionable idea suddenly popping up in your head.

❤ฺ·。

The moment the cashier set the lipstick in the palm of your hand, you immediately took it, applied it, and headed over to the nearest mirror. And you were right; you were a stunner with this. It was as if it was the final piece of the puzzle to connect everything together. The black tint of it worked to pleasantly complement your skin, eyelashes, clothes, and… Neon was behind you, excitedly looming over you. Well, she would be if you weren’t the same height.

“Nice, A/N! I always forget how pale you are with those lame conservative jeans you wear.”

“I worked in a bank, not Hot Topic, dummy.”

She playful rolled her eyes in response. But when you went to meet her gaze, you caught a glimpse of Yoru out of the corner of your eye. Just as you moved to look at him, he immediately turned his head, conveniently avoiding you the moment you noticed him. No, he was definitely looking at you.

“Yo, Neon, is it just me, or is Yoru acting weird?”

She looked at him. And to her, he was inconspicuously looking through some makeup.

“Is it because he’s looking through makeup? I’ll have you know, his eyeliner game is on point. Not as good as Reyna’s, though!”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Usually he looks at me like I’m some peasant, or something. But he hasn’t looked at me today. Not even once.”

You were curious about the eyeliner thing, though.

“Maybe the last mission’s still bothering him, whatever happened.”

“But… he was totally normal when we got back.”

Neon began twirling a lock of blue and yellow hair around her index finger as you both stared at him.

“Sounds like you should sort it out with him.”

“No way, I’m not doing that.”

She scoffed and looked at you.

“What happened to ‘fortune favours the bold’? Seriously, just be upfront and clear things up. Maybe it’s not even the mission. Wait! Maybe it’s the outfit?”

Neon pointed at your collarbones as she spoke, but you quickly pushed her hand away with a red face.

“Stop! Isn’t he religious?”

“Ha, religious? He’s no monk. Need I remind you he learned Portuguese just to flirt when we went to Salvador?”

You blinked in surprise. Learned Portuguese just to flirt? That’s actually kinda impressive.

Once they caught up, you stared at Yoru and Jett as they spoke for a moment, before letting out a deep sigh. Just by their postures, you could tell they were ready to check out. But he had no problem looking at Jett right in the eye with that same annoyed expression he always had. So what made you so different?

“I’ll… I’ll deal with him tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But that’s so far away!”

“Hey guys! What’s going on?”

You both jumped once Jett and Yoru made their way towards you, a gleeful smile lifting the Korean’s cheeks. But you could tell that they caught wind of your conversation. Pun intended.

“Nothing, we were just talking about the… uh, next mission.”

“Oh yeah! I heard that Cypher caught something. Me and Raze have been trying to butt in, but…”

The conversation was led astray to random nonsense. Nevertheless, you took this chance to confirm your suspicions. And you were right, it looked like he intentionally avoided meeting your gaze. Even when you were so obviously scrutinising him. You started to feel guilty once a few theories formed in your head.

Was it your outburst that day that made him uncomfortable, or the fact he had to take care of you so that you’d both finally go back? Either way, you needed to clear things up.

❤ฺ·。

Until the next morning, Jett’s words ran through your mind and you were more and more convinced that you needed to get a hold of yourself. Sure, you never asked to be in Valorant, but you were. And as Gekko would say, ‘it is what it is.’ So you decided to do what many considered the impossible and confront Yoru about yesterday. If you were going to be working together, the air between you must be cleared. And that’s speaking from a logical business standpoint.

One small issue; you didn't know how. And that's why you spent the entire morning in your bed, brainstorming ideas on how to approach the unapproachable.

Bursting into his room and demanding an answer to what was going on sounded more like being rude more than it did being confident. And the idea of asking Neon for help made you shrink so much that snails would be jealous. Actually, putting it that way, she’d probably manipulate her way into eating Yoru’s food. So… how?

You hugged your pillow tightly and sifted through the hundreds of ideas you had. And you thought that maybe you should thank him instead of demonising him, right? Sure, he was acting weird, but he helped you out at your worst in that mission. It would be rude not to bring that up. Also, he made you a lettuce wrap.

One tempting idea managed to stand out amongst all of them... one you were too nervous to act on– oh, to hell with it.

You grabbed your phone, opened his DMs and forced yourself to type what was on your mind.

❤ฺ·。

One turn of his wrench evoked a loud squeak that echoed throughout the workshop. Yoru twisted it, and successfully stopped the noise. Then, he straightened his back with a deep sigh, roughly tapping the new tire of his motorcycle a few times to make sure it was in place. And luckily for him, it was.

Yoru stood up and tossed the wrench on the crowded workbench. He successfully added more onto the mess, but it's not like he really cared either. He just replaced the tire of his vehicle, how could he not be excited? Well, as excited as Yoru can be.

He dusted off his hands. But against the silence that enveloped him, the sound of an oncoming message quickly caught his attention. Weird, he thought. He usually set his phone on mute.

Yoru reached for his phone to read the message. And he was definitely surprised.

'Yo'

'Can we talk?'

With a deep sigh, Yoru dusted off his hands once more and began typing his minimalistic response.

'?'

'About the mission'

'I wanted to say thanks lol'

'For helping me out'

He stared at the message for a few seconds. Then, he shook his head. You were just thanking him, that's all. Nothing special. You must've gotten comfortable after what happened yesterday. That was probably the reason for all of this, he thought.

'nw'

'Wouldnt it b fun if i thanked u personally?'

'We should totally go out!'

Yoru felt the remaining energy in his body immediately disperse like a clowder of cats.

'ugh you sound like neon'

'we already went out'

'I mean only us dummy'

He felt himself slightly blush, but immediately let his instincts take over for his next message.

'im good'

You sent an unamused emoji.

'So boring'

'Whatevs ur missing out'

'I had this corset I wanna wear but guess I'll save it for when phoenix treats us next week'

Yoru forced a scoff for himself, but he couldn't hold back the cheeky smile that painted his slightly pink face. He thought about what he should say to that for a few seconds. Then, he began typing the most unrelated response he could think of to throw you off.

'nix? lol'

'Yeah? Why?'

'nothing'

'he just picks the worst restaurants is all'

He noticed a pause in your replies for a moment. It took you a few seconds to begin typing once more.

'Easy for you to say, Gordon Ramsay'

If he had a nickel every time someone called him Gordon Ramsay.

Yoru put the phone down for a moment and thought about the offer. As much as he didn't want to say it; seeing you in a corset sounded really tempting. After all, he didn't expect you to have good taste when it came to fashion. But after yesterday? He might have to ask you for a few tips. Of course, he’d never say that to your face.

He tapped on the flimsy wooden workbench in an attempt to keep himself grounded. Then he simply decided to type out what was on his mind.

'i mean im down only if u can handle "boring" places'

God, why was he allowing this?

'Boring?'

'Neon calls me boring does that count lol'

'Whats the spot'

'was gonna go to a park'

'aslong as you dont run your mouth im cool w bringing you along'

'Pshhh run my mouth? Thats right up my alley count me in'

He had to hold back the urge to punch himself. Why was he allowing this?!

'saturday 9 am'

'Gotcha'

While you hugged your phone on your side with a triumphant grin on your face, Yoru sighed and immediately regretted this decision. He didn't even know why he was going along with all of this. He hated you, didn't want to spend time with you, and thought you were a nuisance. At least, that's what he told himself.

This is gonna be a long day, isn't it?

❤ฺ·。

Considering the fact that it was a Friday, and that meant you only had the rest of the day to prepare mentally and physically for what was basically a DATE, you were fighting an uphill battle with yourself on the decision you have made. In your mind was a maelstrom of anxiety that practically begged you to cancel and sit in bed for the rest of the day. The usual stuff anxiety begged you to do. But in the mirror was a goth bombshell who was about to have the best date of her life. So really, did you have anything to worry about?

That's the thought that roamed through your mind after you'd gotten ready and moved towards the promised spot in the base. But there was one thing that threatened its position; Yoru's scrutiny.

That’s right, you weren’t safe from his judgemental gaze after you’d worn the corset that accentuated your petite figure. He (very obviously) looked you up and down once you'd arrived, before opening his mouth to speak.

"Nice outfit."

You raised an eyebrow, taking note of his monotone voice.

"Why, is it bad?"

"Never said that. I just expected the usual conservative crap."

You rolled your eyes. Neon must've taught him that word.

"Gee, thanks. Jett had a hand in this, you know."

"I was there. Looks like you finally grew a pair. Congratulations."

You crossed your arms with a cheeky smile.

"And you finally got a good look at me without going all red. "

You were already proud of the response you had ready before you even said it. And now, with the subtle shift in his expression that conveyed his surprise; you were even happier. Then, he freely smirked.

"Someone's snappy today."

"I learned from the best. So, are we going yet?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and follow."

Yoru quickly turned his back on you to move through the nearby doorway before another word could be exchanged. And you swore you saw a slight pink tinge on his cheeks.

You weren't sure whether or not he was just as nervous as you were. His voice sounded the same, but it was obvious how much he had to work to keep eye contact with you. Even his posture was out of place. Instead of flipping his comb, his hands were in his pockets.

But what was even more embarrassing was how much you knew about Yoru's habits to deduce what was amiss about it.

❤ฺ·。

Nevertheless, the dread still remained throughout the trip.

And you wanted to hate Tokyo just to spite him for having an attitude. You really did. But you just couldn’t; the place he picked was simply too perfect. Contrary to your expectations of a dense and overbearing tourist attraction, he took you somewhere you never would’ve expected in a million years.

There were a certain amount of people, sure, but the space was so vast that the nearest couple were miles away from you. That wasn’t to mention the foliage, the ruins, serenity and enormous space; it was all so…

“Where are we?”

“The imperial palace.”

More specifically, the east gardens. But I digress. Your eyes landed on the traditional structures you were so enamoured with.

“No, that’s the Edo castle. That,” He held your chin and directed you towards the ‘modern’ architecture, “is the palace.”

You stopped to observe a massive bridge that held itself above the clear waters. Cradled by the foliage and the delicate structures surrounding it, it took your breath away within a second. The Nijubashi bridge.

“Wow… Can we go there?”

Yoru couldn’t help but chuckle at your naivete.

“It’s not open to the public, A/N. Only on New Years or the emperor’s birthday.”

“Lame.”

You said with a cheeky smile, unintentionally moving closer to Yoru.

Both of you continued down the organised concrete path. You couldn’t help but stare at the bed of colourful flowers laid out on each side. However, while you were enamoured, it seems like Yoru wasn’t; since he let out a wistful sigh as he looked around.

"This place doesn't change, does it?"

"You've been here before?"

"Plenty of times."

"How plenty we talking?"

"No doubt, the emperor knows me by now."

He said with utmost confidence. So much confidence, he took out his comb and promptly began flipping it whilst you walked. Each click almost synchronised with the clicks of your own boots. That's when you knew he was back to his usual self. And you were still embarrassed for knowing.

Nevertheless, a quick giggle escaped you at his joke.

"I get it, because you could sneak in with your dimension powers, right? That would be funny."

You kept smiling, but it slowly fell once you noticed that he didn't bother to refute what you'd said.

"You're not joking, are you?"

"This place is in a good spot too. It's basically surrounded by everything you need."

You raised an eyebrow, but your attention was promptly swept away by a row of organised bushes that paved way for a few benches.

"Why don't you bring the others here, then? That could be a fun activity for the group."

"Tch, I'm good. We could be climbing a mountain and they'd find a way to call it boring."

"Yeah, that checks out... But what about Phoenix? You're his friend."

Yoru rolled his eyes.

"He can't do anything without blasting music in his ears. "

"We're the only normal ones then, right?"

You said with a cheeky grin, and the Japanese couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at this accusation.

"You're calling me normal?"

"Yeah. Right now, you are. You know, I never would've thought someone like you liked peaceful stuff like... parks. And shrines."

He flicked his comb shut.

"Lady, you get scared and shocked at everything. I'm surprised you didn't freak out and came along today."

"Didn't you get shocked when I put on black lipstick?"

Yoru immediately cleared his throat and moved his eyes back to the path.

"No idea what you're talking about."

A laugh involuntarily escaped you.

This was so much fun. And you wanted to scold yourself for never having done this before; standing your ground in the face of an insult. Well, it was clearly banter coming from him, but the point still stands. Screw the bracelet you wielded, it was nothing compared to the new ability you unlocked; confidence! It only took you, what, your entire life? Yeah, sounds about right.

At least you managed to get the hang of it, that's for sure.

Hours flew like minutes as the both of you continued chatting and you explored the area. Surprisingly, talking to him was fun. It was light-hearted, surface-level, and the exact opposite of how confrontational he was the whole time. Yoru was much more relaxed, more talkative, and he even took insults pretty well when it wasn't anything serious.

Besides, he looked so endearing when he'd genuinely smile. In fact, it felt kind of... serene to spend the time with him like this. It was as if you were finally taking a break after years upon years of chaos.

Just you and a guy you thought was cute in a park alone chatting... Yeah, nothing weird about that, right?

Moving down the organised path, you caught yet another stunning view. It somehow triumphed over everything you’ve seen the past few hours. And this time, you couldn't help but pull on Yoru’s sleeve.

“Look at that.”

You suddenly pointed to a nearby river enveloped by a multitude of brilliantly green trees, each leaf gently swayed by the wind. With the flowing water right underneath it, it looked like some sort of fictional setting someone had painted.

Both of you approached the railing that gave you a better view. There, not only could you now breathe in the fresh air, but also see a few rowing… boats. Emphasis on few. There were only two, and combined with the large distance, they were mere specks you had to dig out.

“Are those boats?”

“Yeah. People rent them and row around the river.”

“Is it a part of the cast– uh, palace?”

You made sure to note the difference between the Edo castle and the Imperial palace. Yoru paused for a moment and pocketed his comb.

“You could say that. But it’s Kitanomaru park.” He leaned on the railings just as you did. “It’s another well-known spot here.”

You watched a few more leaves escape the branches and gently fall onto the water.

“This place is so pretty… Imagine living here.”

“You should wait until May. That’s when the cherry trees bloom. I might even take you to the river when that happens.”

May? That’s only a few days away… You looked at him in confusion, before smiling.

“You’d do that?”

Yoru quickly cleared his throat and turned his gaze away.

“Nevermind.”

You stifled a giggle. Must've been a Freudian slip, like the times you caught him staring yesterday. You rested your chin on your hand and thought for a moment; a new bout of anxiety taking control of your thoughts.

Why was he acting nice? Was it because of the way you spoke to him today, or did the discomfort from that mission manifest, or something? It didn't make sense, but you wanted a proper reason as to why he was acting this way. A solid one that your anxiety couldn't exploit.

You sighed and thought for the next few minutes. Then, a giggle escaped you.

"You know, I completely forgot why we even came here."

"Tch. Really?"

"Yeah. I wanted to tell you something... uh, what was it? I wanted to thank you, right? For that mission. I'm still impressed, now that I think about it. You didn't even hesitate, it's like you knew exactly what to do."

You smiled to yourself for a moment, before continuing.

"Say, how'd you know what to do?"

...

"Tch, what kind of question is that?"

You turned to Yoru with your chin still on your hand.

"I'm just saying. I've never met anyone who knows how to deal with stuff like that. It's like you know everything."

Silence settled in the moment you shut your mouth. And only then did you notice the sudden heaviness that slowly befell the two of you. Yoru was uncomfortable; and at this point, that fact was one even you couldn’t deny. Crap, you thought. Did you say something wrong?

It took him a moment. But eventually, he opened his mouth to speak.

"I– I guess it's just something I relate to."

...

"Relate to?"

"You know, the panicking thing. Being cursed, whatever that was. "

You perked up at this, confusion taking over your mind.

"So you've– wait, does that mean you felt the same way I did?"

"Technically. It was a decade ago but... It still would've been a trash move if I just left you to deal with it on your own. Thought I'd try to make it easier."

"Wait..."

Thousands of thoughts took over your mind, and you struggled to spit out just one cohesive sentence.

"Does– so, does that mean– you mean this whole time you've been helping me? Since I joined?"

He stared at the river for a second.

"Well, I only helped because you were helpless... at the start."

"But–"

Yoru seemed embarrassed the more he saw the cogs in your brain turn. You were practically figuring him out, and he really didn't enjoy that. But he couldn't say anything. Not when he laid it out for you; the fact that he used to share your level of anxiety. And helped you.

It was almost the direct opposite of the crab mentality. And coming from Yoru? It was a shock.

"Wow, that makes so much sense... So, you were just like me, huh?"

You couldn't help but grin at this revelation.

"That's so sweet... No offence, I thought it was just my luck we kept getting put together."

"Tch, of course it was. It's not like I was waiting for you every morning."

You giggled. It was undeniable. He was mortified at this point. But just as you wanted to ask one question, another one popped up; one much more important.

"Is that also why you didn't look at me yesterday?"

He was clearly caught off guard by this.

"What–? No, that's– that's unrelated."

"Well? Don't leave me hanging. Tell me."

He rolled his eyes.

"You already got enough out of me. "

"Just this once."

His face turned into a deeper shade of red, but he still refused to look at you.

"I'm not saying anything else."

"Ugh, you're lame."

You crossed your arms with a smile as you processed this newfound information. The fact that Yoru was helping you. Well, not at the start, but it still meant a lot to you. He was basically the reason you managed to get to this point with everything. Of course, some credits to Jett. But more importantly; how can you make him fess up about yesterday?

...

An idea popped up, and you met his gaze with a particularly devious expression.

"Yo, if you tell me, I'll give you a hug."

His eyes widened.

"W– what?"

"Yeah! A hug. Not too much for someone like you."

You crossed your arms with confidence as you spoke.

"Pretty fair offer, right?"

He stared at you with a flustered expression for a few seconds, and all he could muster up were a few words.

"That's– um, that's a reach."

"Neon told me what happened back in Salvador, you know."

He rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"Of course she did. Fine, I'll tell you. But just one... quick hug. Nothing more. I don't want your perfume on me."

You couldn't help but giggle. His words were getting more and more quiet as he went along, and combined with his defensive posture; his crossed arms? He was adorable. And a prude, but that's besides the point.

"You have my word."

He took a deep breath.

"I thought– I just thought you were pretty. That's all."

"Pretty?"

"Yeah. Pretty."

You giggled and fiddled with your bracelet as he spoke.

“I shouldn't be shocked you think goth is pretty, but, you know…”

“Shocked? That's a first."

There he goes again, you thought. You scoffed and decided to take it upon yourself to shut him up.

Just as Yoru blinked, he found your arms wrapped tightly around him. He was forcefully pulled into a tender embrace, and it definitely took him at least a minute to comprehend the fact. He paused and looked down on you with wide eyes, the warmth exuded from you leaving a foreign impact on him. Unfortunately, it just made him flush even more.

You were... hugging him. You. Hugging him. Did he get that right…?

Once the cogs in his brain started moving again, he slowly put both of his hands behind your back and returned it. This detail didn't fly by you. And you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself.

It was only once you pulled away did you really see how much this simple move left a mark on him. He looked like a mess. Yoru quickly cleared his throat, but it didn't help with how raspy his voice had gotten. Thanks to a simple hug, of course.

"Oh wow... you– you actually did it."

"About time someone put you in your place, huh?"

Both of you shared a quick chuckle until he spoke up once more.

"I'm not complaining. Looks like you don't need my help anymore, huh?"

You smiled in triumph. Hopefully not.

"I– I know we have different beliefs, but... just in case."

Yoru slipped something in your hand. But once you pulled away and revealed your palm; it took you a second to recognise what the uniquely designed object was.

It was... an omamori?

"It helped me at my worst, I'm hoping it helps you too. I'm not saying you have to keep it–"

"Are you kidding? I'm totally bringing this for the next mission! In fact, I'll tie it to my Bulldog for extra protection."

You said with a wink. Yoru attempted to cover his red face with his hand; to no avail.

"Thanks..."

Sure, you didn't share the same beliefs, but at this point, did you really have any right to refuse what he gave you? Just saying no to him at this point would shatter your heart to a million pieces. You pocketed the omamori to ensure its safety, before meeting his gaze with a beaming grin.

"So, wanna keep showing me around?"

He nodded.

"Y– yeah, sure. I can do that."

"Great!"

Yoru didn't expect you to link your arm with his. But with a weak smile, he simply went along with it, and you both continued on your path.

Though you confused a few of the passerby on your relationship, this time, however, you definitely looked like a couple. And it's not like you really minded either. You even took his tip and hid the omamori inside your phone case the same way he would do. And until the next mission, it would stay there.

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