#man i love crochet (lie)

[guavanoe]

stg im gonna get carpal tunnel

#i keep on frogging my bralette rrrrrraaaaaaa #man i love crochet (lie)

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer General Profile

Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer x fem! reader

Tw: stalking, kidnapping, heavy manipulation, threats of violence, threats of assault, mind breaks, Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of non-con, non-consensual touching, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of cum, threats, Chrollo has a god complex but what else is new, Uvogin is mean to you but he doesn't mean it I promise!, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

DARLING PROFILE:

Smart

His darling doesn’t need to be a genius or anything like that, but they do need to posses a certain degree of intelligence.

Chrollo considers himself a well-read, cultured man, and he feels that his partner needs to match his level of worldly awareness, of cognitive ability. It doesn’t need to necessarily lie in the same fields as his own (though he can’t deny that it would be absolutely wonderful to have a darling who enjoys the same types of literature as him, the same philosophers, the same composers), but they must have a certain area that they hold an above average amount of knowledge in.

He finds intelligence attractive, and what initially causes him to develop an interest in his darling is largely due to the showcasing of this knowledge and smarts. He’s entranced the moment his darling opens his mouth, eagerly hanging onto their every word and nodding along, actually finding himself enjoying speaking with them.

He doesn’t have to pretend to be interested in their words for his own gain, rather finding himself genuinely wondering about their opinion on this or that, curious like a child.

He finds his darling fascinating, and a smart darling will get him falling faster, harder, deeper, to the point where Chrollo develops into a love-starved, desperate man who wants to learn more and more and more, aching to become an expert of his own in his favorite field; his darling.

Creative

Similarly, a darling who leans more on the creative side is a perfect match for Chrollo. It doesn’t matter where this creativity finds its medium – perhaps his darling is particularly artistic, enjoying expressing themselves with the arts.

Maybe they love to paint, watercolors and acrylics seeming to come alive under their fingers. (He’d melt if he found a work of him, the colors making him sigh and dreamily trace the lines, joy swimming in his heart that they painted him, that he means enough to them that he’s taken a starring role in their hobby.)

Perhaps they enjoy photography, documenting small, beautiful moments in life. (He’s always trying to look his best around his darling, keeping his neck tense and posture strong, so that if they did take a sneaky, candid photo of him, they’d enjoy what they see.)

Perhaps they play an instrument, melodies ringing out and making Chrollo smile and nod along. (Learning his favorite pieces would make him struggle to not reach out and place a gentle kiss to their forehead, letting his hands wander down their shoulders and cupping their breasts, telling them he’d love to repay the favor and learn their favorite things as well.)

Maybe they enjoy knitting or crocheting, making all kinds of creations that Chrollo finds endearing. (He’d expect them to make him something, of course, subtly demanding he receives something so that when he’s away, he’ll be able to keep a piece of them with him, something made with love and care and specifically for Chrollo Lucilfer himself.)

Cooking, sewing, writing, anything and everything can fit into this category – Chrollo really just likes that his darling is thinking of him, that they spend their time doing something that makes them happy, and if he gets to be involved, all the better.

He’ll even push his way into their hobby, learning all that he can about it with eager fingers, wanting to impress his darling and make the activity into something they can bond over – a way to spend time together, a way to get them all by his side and happy, never, ever wanting to leave.

He just loves them so very much, after all.

Observant

While it would be difficult to find someone more calculating and cunning than himself, there’s something alluring about a darling who is more observant than those around them.

He likes the idea that his darling is just able to pick up on things, their eye more trained to assess those around them, to understand their motives and notice the things they do.

It’s a sign of intelligence, and once Chrollo’s obsession has formed, he’s purposefully doing things he’s hoping his darling will notice, all with the hope that they’ll spend time wondering why he’s always fiddling with his ring finger, or letting his eyes flick to them. It’s like a game to Chrollo, and he finds it beyond entertaining to watch his darling in action, seeing their expressions flit across their face as they try to interpret his odd behavior.

There’s just something that attracts him towards darling that are able to perceive their world for more than it is – he views himself as better than everyone else, a sort of God among men, but a darling that has this trait rises above the countless below him, standing out alone as a superior being, someone worthy and perfect for him.

He’s egotistical, after all, but a darling that can at least kind of match his observation skills is something that will attract him to them – whether that’s good or bad, one can’t say.

Witty

His darling certainly doesn’t need to be a comedian, but someone who can keep up with his thinly veiled banter would cause his interest to spike.

His words are almost always tinged with just the slightest amount of snark, the slightest bit of condescension that seems to be present no matter who he’s talking to.

Perhaps it’s a result of his own pride or self-confidence, but regardless, a darling who can not only pick up on this but also respond with a bit of snark as well would make him momentarily pause, before laughing a bit and wondering just how far he can push them. It excites him to have a darling who can keep up with him, bantering back and forth, and once his infatuation develops, this is one of his favorite things about his darling.

He loves that speaking with them is endless entertainment, hence how often he tries to goat them into conversations. He’s always, always asking them questions, often designed to get them speculating, philosophical questions that he’s genuinely curious to know their answer to, and in the process he gets to have a sort of playful discussion, something that makes his heart race a bit in his chest.

He just likes his darling’s ability to think on their feet, only reinforcing their intelligence and making him fall deeper, harder, more soundly.

It makes him want to keep that wit all for himself, to not let anyone else have the pleasure of indulging in his darling’s words – they’re his, and the longer his obsession festers, the more he believes in that sentiment.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Dependent

Much of what fuels Chrollo’s obsession for you is selfish in nature.

Initially, he’s interested in you because you make him feel something, some strange emotion he can’t quite place. He’s running through all the possibilities early on, wistfully trying each emotion on before discarding it.

Does he want to use you? No, you wouldn’t be especially useful - you’re not all that developed of a nen user, if one at all, so you’d just be wasted effort.

Does he want to steal something of yours? No, you don’t have anything of particular value, nor are you an important individual.

Does he want to kill you? No, something about the thought leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

He’s stumped at first, genuinely unsure of what you’re making him feel, but it’s not until he spends more time with you that he begins considering options that are more foreign to him - that is, that he may have developed more positive emotions towards you, less manipulative and more yearning.

He contemplates whether he’s fallen in love - the books he’s always perusing make love sound so obnoxious, virtuosic, grandiose, and Chrollo can’t quite say he agrees. What he feels for you is ultimately overwhelming, surely - but it’s also much more subtle, slowly taking root in every aspect of his life seemingly without him even noticing. What used to be hours spent searching out new heists and items to steal becomes twinged with just a hint of your presence.

Small thoughts in the back of his head wonder whether you’d like the diamond necklace displayed in this gallery, or how it’d look against your pretty skin, sitting in the hollow of your throat.

What used to be solitary evenings spent reading in candlelight become small daydreams about what you’d think of his current philosopher’s theories, whether you’d indulge him in hours of philosophical discussions, what your opinions on the perception of self are. What your perceptions of yourself are, and, more importantly, what your perception of him is.

It’s not too overwhelming at first; he’s mostly able to control himself, that ever composed stature of his kept carefully in place.

The thoughts are mostly just fleeting, odd off-handed curiosity about you that he doesn’t worry too much about. It’s interesting, mostly, that you’ve gotten to him at all - and it’s this, really, that drives his desire to learn more about you. The fact that you continue to become more and more intertwined with his thoughts leaves him anxiously aching for more, wanting to see the extent to which you’re able to make him feel - something he’d always thought was more or less impossible.

And what you make him feel is so, so very good; his palms are a bit clammy when he sees you, gaze raking over your figure and noting how well your shirt fits your curves, dark eyes eagerly scanning the title of the book you’re reading out of. He’s a confident man, of course, but at the prospect of approaching you and discussing the literature, he can’t help but swallow, tongue sneaking out to lick over his lips.

He feels a strange sense of peace when he’s looking at you, taking in the way the sunlight shines off of your face, the way your clothes frame your body, how your lips quirk up into a smile when you see the little bunny that hops along the grass in the public park. It’s small things, mostly, that get little butterflies fluttering in his chest – and it’s these little fleeting moments of happiness, of contentedness and fascination that lead him to believe what he’s feeling for you could be the ever famous love – or, at least, some variation of it.

Is it love when he’s letting a smile cover his features as you scrunch your brows and huff when you can’t get that stupid jar open? The way you stick your tongue out in concentration and squeeze your eyes shut is  honestly adorable, forcing Chrollo’s eyes to linger on your face just a tad bit too long.

(He can’t help but imagine how you’d thank him so profusely if he opened it for you; he’d even go so far as to roll up his sleeves, exposing his smooth forearms that he knows women can’t resist. Do you fall into that category? Would you be transfixed by his strength, his physical appearance, his smooth voice when he tells you that next time call me first, please, I wouldn’t want you to struggle…)

Maybe it’s the way you look so disheveled in your oversized t-shirt and ill-fitting lounge pants as you shuffle about your apartment, completely unaware of the camera he’d had Shalnark place in your living room. You look comfortable, and there’s something about seeing you so vulnerable, so raw that gets him breathing a bit heavier.

(More than once a thought has, seemingly out of the blue, surfaced where you’re starring and wearing a dress shirt of his – white, stiff material just barely hiding the outline of your breasts and the curve of your hips, tantalizing and looking so very right on you. If that were to happen, Chrollo has already made peace with the fact that he’d hold out on washing that particular shirt – just until he’s gotten the chance to slip it on himself, occasionally sniffing the collar and getting something heavenly, something that can only be described as you and him together.)

Chrollo honestly isn’t sure what it is about you that’s gotten to him to develop feelings - he’s intrigued, earnestly trying to understand it, but as time passes and he finds himself spending more and more time simply thinking of you, he finds himself caring less.

It’s happened already - he’s in love, he’s certain, and now that he’s in that position, the only logical thing to do is pursue you. And while he tells himself it’s all because he wants to learn more about how you’ve managed to trick him into falling for you, really it’s all because he absolutely has to. The longer his infatuation goes on, the less time he can spend away from you, and the less he can justify the strength of his feelings.

He becomes restless when you’re not in his sight - his hands are shaking slightly, thin brows pinched together, every muscle in his body flexing involuntarily. His temper is heightened, irritation brewing in his chest even if he doesn’t mean it – he’s snapped at Nobunaga by accident, his words just a bit harsher, a bit more clipped when telling him the meeting time for the next month.

When he’s not been around you for long periods (a day or so), he just feels like something’s missing, something he can’t quite place. There’s a you shaped hole in his chest, and it turns Chrollo into something of an addict going through withdrawals - he’s become too dependent on the way you make something warm bloom in his chest, and the moment he’s without it, he’s counting down the seconds until he can return to you, return to the calmness and serenity of being around you.

And when you smile at him, answer his questions, brush your hand against his when he hands you a cup of tea, Chrollo can’t help but shiver slightly, his content smile twitching up at the corners ever so slightly. It’s addicting, the way you make him feel so alive, so strangely happy, so light and bubbly and horribly enslaved to his emotions. But while he’s never known himself to a weak man, he thinks he’d be okay with you being his Achilles heel - as long as you smile at him, let him stare as you talk away about your day, let him brush his knuckles against your cheek and whisper that you’re so warm and frail, Chrollo could care less.

He could care less about most things, really, once you step into his life - as long as you don’t leave him, that is. As long as you don’t abandon him, taking you and the feelings you ignite within him with you.

You wouldn’t dare, he’s sure of it. 

Possessive

Tying into his desperation for you to stay under his thumb and by his side, Chrollo can’t seem to shake the way anger flares up inside him whenever another man interacts with you. He knows it’s irrational - it’s possible to have interactions with the opposite gender without ulterior motives; he regularly speaks with Machi, Pakunoda and Shizuku without any goals aside from Troupe business.

And yet, he just can’t forget the way he knows some men are - viscous, disgusting, cruel, vile in a way even Chrollo isn’t. He may be a mass murderer, mentally unstable, unhealthily in need of being in control and a pathological thief, but he’s never harassed a woman before. He’s never sneered at one, groped or touched them in a sexual way without their consent, and he’s only ever seduced a woman with the intent of getting information out of her.

But others?

He knows others are probably just as in love with you as he is - you’re beautiful, intelligent, sweet and oh so perfect, truly a naive, painfully unaware little bunny in a world full of wolves. And wolves will pounce, even if the bunny is already in another’s jaws - just the thought of another man attempting to intervene and seduce you themselves is enough to get Chrollo’s jaw clenching ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing a bit and his fingers clasping around his nen book just a bit tighter.

He’s territorial, unwilling to share the way you make him feel with anyone else - only you can bring him the happiness he craves, so therefore only he is allowed to be on the receiving end. He hates the idea that another man could start chatting you up, throwing false compliments and sweet words your way, buttering you up and trying to steal you from right underneath his nose. It makes his fingers itch, the sense of control he harbors over you slipping slightly. It scares him, if he’s being honest – an emotion he hasn’t felt since he was very young, scavenging the streets of Meteor City.

He loves the way you’re able to make him feel, but this particular emotion he very much doesn’t like, nor does he enjoy the way jealousy pricks at his heart when another man glances at you. It leaves his blood boiling, every inch of his body feeling unbelievably hot, his muscles tensing up over and over.

And yet, Chrollo is a man of opportunity – while it may be torture to see you with another man, something excruciating in ways Chrollo has never experienced before, this is a good chance to paint himself in a better light. It’s a good opportunity to sway your perception of him – particularly if the man isn’t wooing you successfully.

Before he’s stolen you away, he’s quick to observe how men approach you, with suave smiles that make you visibly nervous, your high pitched responses to his questions vague and obviously constructed for your escape. It makes some weird sort of protectiveness spring up into him, but he holds himself back. He wills himself to wait just a tad bit longer, to elongate the discomfort you’re feeling because this will only really work if you’re desperate for an escape route. It’s torture, watching, but Chrollo holds on – until he decides you’re fearful enough, his long strides towards you not nearly as quick as he’d like.

Words will slip from his tongue before he can even really think, always placing himself in between you and the man, physically separating you as he quietly but firmly tells the man off, mentioning something about how unchivalrous it is to corner a defenseless woman.

Honestly, as shocked as you’ll be that Chrollo just emerges from the shadows so often, you’ll be incredibly grateful for his presence and intervention - which is exactly what he’s hoping for. He doesn’t like the way his possessiveness eats him up, but there’s something to be said about making sure that he saves you, making sure that you perceive him as your protector and someone to trust.

It’s an insurance thing, more than anything, because there’s nothing that calms Chrollo quite like knowing that you like him, that you’re associating positive emotions with him. It makes pride swell in his chest to think that you perceive him as some sort of guardian angel to you, and while it almost makes him pity you, it just makes his job easier.

It makes it easier to constantly be trailing you (you’ll never catch him, however), and to get you falling for him just as strongly as he’s fallen for you. If you hold him in a position of power, he will be exploiting that power and control - he’ll be subtle when he starts isolating you, the power trip making him giddy because now no one will talk to you. It makes the corners of his mouth twitch up when he sees that notification on his phone, your contact flashing across his screen.

(It’s just your full name, though sometimes he’ll play with the idea of adding a star next to it, or perhaps a diamond or crescent moon - it’s too childish for him, but he’ll often type it out and quickly delete it, only to retype and repeat the process.)

It makes him feel good to know that you’re contacting him, that you reached out to him, meaning you’re thinking of him and not someone else. He’s leaving small hints of his presence in your apartment; a copy of his book that he ‘accidentally’ left there last time you invited him over for dinner, a watch of his (that he stole, of course, but you don’t know that) that you keep neatly on your dresser and glance at every morning, marveling at how pristine and silver it is.

He’ll leave his leftovers in your refrigerator from nice evenings out, internally cooing at the way you finish them off yourself, liking that you’re wanting to finish his food, obviously not disturbed by the fact that his mouth may have touched a bit of it. He’s trying to stake his claim on everything around you, no matter how big or small it may be, just to get you thinking of him.

(Of course, he’s also a fan of staking his claim in ways you’re less knowledgeable about - he’s even spent nights at your apartment, dark eyes appraising your pretty, sleeping face, spending hours simply staring before wandering around your room, picking things up and digging through your drawers. Sometimes, on days when Troupe business has him feeling just a bit stressed, or he has to deal with particularly important but irritating individuals, he’ll even settle himself beside you, sitting in your desk chair and letting his black slacks fall to his knees, palming himself and shakily exhaling. He’ll caress your cheek with one hand, letting a strained, breathless smile slip across his face while his other hand relentlessly tugs and flicks around his cock, eager to see the way you’ll look with white splattered all across your pretty face. He’ll clean it up afterwards, mostly – it can’t hurt to leave a bit on your lips, right? Just so that you’ll taste him in the morning? Just so that he’ll be with you all night, all day tomorrow, so close?)

He’s possessive in the worst way possible, and while it manifests itself as seeming chivalrous and even a bit endearing, it’s anything but. There’s nothing cute about the way he religiously thinks of you, his every free moment spent watching you or speaking to you with the smoothest, most attractive voice he can muster.

There’s nothing sweet about the way his hand lingers on the small of your back, just a tad bit too insistent when he's guiding you through the crowd, making sure you don’t stray far enough away from him to let air flow between your bodies.

There’s nothing flattering about the way he gazes at you as you slowly wake up in his hold, with no memory of how you got there, no memory of where you are, no memory of how you’d changed into a pretty, billowy nightgown, and no memory of him, at least of the tattoo across his forehead or the carnal look in those eyes.

He’s a possessive freak, and once he decides you’re his target, there’s really no chance of escaping. So don’t even try.

Manipulative

He’s good at getting what he wants, and that mixed with his natural charisma leaves pretty much everyone he encounters susceptible to his charms. He’s spent his whole life studying human emotions, interactions and what drives people, and as such he’s got a pretty good understanding of how to exploit others, how to find the cracks in their armor that leave them putty in his hands.

It’s almost fun, in a way, like a puzzle Chrollo becomes extremely skilled at solving flawlessly. But when it comes to you? Well, no matter how adept you are at seeing through people, no matter how levelheaded or careful you are, Chrollo will be getting you wrapped around his little finger, completely bending to his will.

You are certainly no exception to his charms, if only because Chrollo is trying extra hard with you, the genuine drive to get you visibly bashful at his compliments and craving his touch nearly driving him to insanity. And honestly, you probably won’t even realize it – he’s subtle, giving you a small push here or there with little comments about the people around you, or about habits he wants you to break.

When you’re out together shopping around at stores much too expensive for you (courtesy of Chrollo smiling at you and requesting you let him buy you something, because it would mean so much to me, and I know you’ve secretly been yearning for that new dress), he’ll gently chastise you about how you shouldn’t talk to him anymore – don’t you see the way his eyes are on your chest rather than your face?

(The sales clerk who had been helping the two of you was most certainly not ogling your breasts – but even if you bring it up to your companion, he’ll just sigh softly at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and murmuring that he knows men better than you do, that he can see right through them, just trust me, he would’ve given anything to have you alone.)

The comments will be small but plentiful, designed to get you listening to him and coming to think of him as right, as much smarter and more observant than yourself, something that Chrollo will use to his advantage. He does love you, in some twisted, sick way, but Chrollo’s idea of love is distorted, warped and made ugly by the way he treats you.

He knows it perhaps isn’t the classic method of wooing you, but there’s nothing wrong with twisting the situation just to make sure that his desired outcome sees fruition. He doesn’t like lying to you, and would prefer to always be truthful (to an extent, at least), but he understands that it’s what has to happen in order to make his long term plans a reality – in order to get you unconditionally devoted to him, just as he craves.

It’s unhealthy, but Chrollo doesn’t mind; which is why he’ll be putting to use every possible tactic he can think of to get you returning his feelings, all twinged with just a hint of manipulation, just to get the right seeds of thought planted in that pretty little head of yours.

He’s buying bouquets of flowers every week, sent to your address by hand with a note attached in big, loopy cursive detailing how gorgeous you are; haikus he writes describing your eyes, your hair, your figure and your laugh that get your neck and cheeks feeling warm, the flowers always your favorite colors. (The note also generously makes use of the word ‘my’, preceding nearly everything pertaining to you – my darling, my beloved, my angel, my future.)

He's dressing himself to the nines, with his shirts and pants always pressed and pristine, his cologne noticeably but not too intense, just the slightest touch of gel in his hair, all just to make sure he look as attractive and presentable as possible. He knows women find men in casual business wear attractive, and he’ll purposefully choose white dress shirts with the sheerest material he can get away with – just so that when the light hits just right, you’ll see the hard lines of muscle underneath, his abs and pectorals standing out and straining against the fabric. (He’s always making comments about how other men dress when he’s out with you – claiming that there’s wrinkles in their clothing, that wearing such bright, obnoxious colors are unbecoming of a true gentleman, that their watches and jewelry are obviously fakes, even that he’s seen that shirt for sale and it’s a laughable price – some men must not care much for beauty, and if they’re willing to purchase such low-quality items, imagine how poorly they must treat their partner.)

It’s a constant with him, as if he’s actively looking for every opportunity he can to make himself look better compared to those around him – call it a result of his possessiveness, or maybe some weird, unhealthy craving to get your praise and admiration.

Regardless, it’ll eventually have you slowly seeing what he means, finding yourself nodding along and agreeing with his words, even if you’d never have independently formed such a thought. It’s a slow process and will take a while to work, but Chrollo watches with intent, bright eyes and bitten lips, satisfaction oozing out of him because he’s got you right where he wants you, and sweet little you doesn’t even know.

Of course, once he’s stolen you away and permanently attached you to his hip, his manipulative tendencies don’t just magically disappear. Oh no – if anything they grow stronger, because now that you’re truly isolated, it’s just so much easier to mold you into the perfect version of yourself, all needy and dependent on him just as he wishes. It’s easy to get you believing things about those on the outside, using tactics like ignoring you or limiting your freedoms in order to get you caving to his desires, to get you listening and hanging on to his every word like it’s God himself speaking.

And really, Chrollo likes that imagery – that he’s your god and you’re his devoted little follower, worshipping everything he says and making him feel good, important, wanted in a way he’s never experienced before. (Although, in reality, the roles are more flipped – you’re his god, the one thing he comes crawling back to no matter the situation, his unending devotion to you rooted so deeply inside him that not even his soul is unaffected by you. He’s written poetry about the idea, entertaining it through writing, but he’s always quick to rip the pages out and crumple them, not enjoying the uncomfortable sense of truth in the words.)

So while Chrollo’s feelings for you do resemble love in some ways, his methods and expression very much doesn’t – he’s not afraid to lie t you in order to receive the results that he wants, and really, it’s best not to bother fighting him. He will prevail, no matter how to try and keep your head on straight, and it’s just easier for the both of you to not try, to not attempt to make sense of the mixture of lies and truth he feeds you. It’ll save you both time and energy, and Chrollo would really, really appreciate your cooperation – you’re cute when you’re being defiant, but it grows old.

And while Chrollo would never lose interest in you, he’s not above making you believe that he has – if it gets you obeying and letting him rest his hand on your hip (dipping down to firmly grip and squeeze at your thigh too, if he’s lucky), Chrollo will do anything it takes, no matter how depraved or violent.

Anything at all.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Chrollo, while liking to view himself as being above other men, is only human. He’s still a man, one with an intense, disgusting obsession with you, and the moment that your attention is threatened, the human side of Chrollo becomes very apparent.

It’s difficult to look at him and see it, but internally he’s simmering with jealousy every time another man approaches you, to the point where it becomes difficult to focus on anything else except you, except the way that you’re looking at someone else, talking with them and breathing the same air as them. It’s horrible, and even more so than the idea that you’ll be stolen away from another man, Chrollo doesn’t like the fact that this scum thinks he has to right to even be in your presence.

You’re perfect, in Chrollo’s eyes, and he hates the fact that others get to be around you so freely, even when that privilege is something should belong to him and him only. It angers him how other men don’t seem to understand that you’re already taken and claimed, your fate decided the moment Chrollo decides he wants you.

You’re better than everyone else, a breed above, and he's always just a bit worried that you’ll somehow be tainted by talking with other men, like your perfection will become marred when others look at you.

So, Chrollo does what he feels he must – he must interfere, even if getting closer and closer to the scene has his heart pounding, anger swimming through his veins in amounts he’s never, ever experienced. It’s cathartic, in a way, to have such sudden bursts of emotion, but as his dark gaze focuses on you, he decides that what you make him feel, all the warmth and dizziness and disorientation, is much better than the jealousy sitting heavily in his gut.

He’ll, of course, take his time; he’s opportunistic and wont’ simply waste the chance to further build his positive image in your mind, but waiting is absolute torture. He’s digging his nails into his palms with every moment he’s forcing himself to wait, dark gaze unblinking as he stares at the two of you, mentally berating the man and thinking of the thousands of ways he could torture and kill him. And once he thinks it’s finally, finally time, he’s not wasting a moment and approaching the two of you as fast as he can. It's easy to enter into the conversation, picking up something the man has said.

His voice is smooth and sure, a complete contrast from the stranger attempted to pick you up – your head turns sharply when you hear him, relief flashing over your features at a semi familiar face.

He’s maybe a regular at a café or diner you enjoy – you’ve seen him around, chatted lightly a few times, only really knowing his name and a few of the books he’s always reading.

And while Chrollo knows this, he can’t help the way his heart practically soars when he sees how visibly relieved you are for his presence. His fingers twitch with the intention of reaching out and cupping your cheek, but he refrains himself.

The man, however, doesn’t seem nearly as pleased by his sudden arrival – he’s scowling slightly, brows tucked inwards as he growls out sorry, but we’re having a private conversation.

Your relieved and awed expression suddenly returns to a grim and fearful one, and internally Chrollo feels his anger flare. His face is still neutral, however, as he responds carefully and calmly that he’s making you obviously uncomfortable, and it’s the chivalrous thing to do when I see a woman being harassed. The man splutters slightly, shocked at Chrollo’s forwardness.

He tries to argue back, claiming you were answering his questions, being polite, so evidently you must have wanted him, right?

You’re unimpressed, shrinking back further away from the man and instead subtly getting closer to Chrollo, something he notes with a distinct sense of pleasure. Chrollo doesn’t let up, however, continuing to inform the man that you don’t want to be there, that you aren’t really interested when he offers to show you his apartment that he swears is the best thing you’ll ever see.

You’re grateful, and as weak and lame as it makes you feel to have Chrollo fighting this particular battle for you, you’re glad he showed up. He always seems to show up, really, just when you need him – it’s almost magic, you think, how he seems to know when you need help. The image of him as your savior makes your cheeks feel warm, the girlish thought embarrassing but oddly accurate.

 Eventually the man leaves, huffing and muttering under his breath about how you weren’t even all that pretty anyways, and Chrollo feels his eye twitch, a small flick of the wrist inserting just a bit of nen into his shoulder.

Not enough for the man to feel it, but just enough so that he can keep track of his whereabouts. You’re immediately thanking him profusely, embarrassed about how inept you’d seemed, some small part of you hoping you didn’t look as pathetic as you felt.

But he doesn’t seem to mind – if anything, he’s silent, allowing your rambling to continue on, those dark eyes meeting yours and holding your gaze. It’s intense, but as your voice dies off after the fifth ‘thank you’, he only softly smiles.

Of course, his voice is low and nearly demure, making a shiver roll down your spine, it’s no trouble at all. I’d help you out anytime you need me.

He can tell you’re flustered, and while he wants nothing more than to revel in the sight of you looking bashful, twiddling with your thumbs and stumbling over your words, he knows he has to leave. He needs to leave, really, so that he can check over his book of nen, flipping to the page where that the location of that piece of scum that had bothered you was.

He bids you farewell with a twinkle in his eye, looking over his shoulder as he turns and walks away. You look so pretty, standing there and staring at him, trying to hide the way your mouth gapes open, and Chrollo bites his lip ever so slightly, closing his eyes and reveling in the way his chest feels all warm and airy from just the sight of you. Soon he’s turning off the street where it had all happened, immediately stepping into an alleyway and flipping open the book.

The nen signature leads him to a dingy apartment – surely not the beauty he’d been boasting to you about – and Chrollo nearly snorts as he sees the man throwing back his head, drowning the beer bottle in hand. No one else is in the apartment, he finds as he slips through the front door, which is ideal. He’s quick to conjure up his giant nen fish, a smile slowly spreading across his lips as the man suddenly freezes, unable to move as a fish moves to nibble at a toe, teeth biting and crunching through bone.

It doesn’t take long – maybe ten minutes or so, but Chrollo enjoys every moment of watching the man slowly get eaten alive, those dark eyes wide and excited. It’s euphoric, really, and as he remembers the way the man had nearly had the audacity to touch you, to touch what was Chrollo’s, he can’t stop himself from chuckling slightly.

It’s only after the fact, once all is said and done, that he notices his hands are shaking, his cheeks a bit sore from smiling for such a long period of time. It’s only then that he hears how his heartbeat is loud in his ears, blood pounding as the excitement and satisfaction of seeing the sofa now empty, not a spec of blood ruining the upholstery.

He wishes he could have killed him by his own hand, perhaps stabbed him a few times, burned him alive, maybe even drowned him – but this is better, because now when you watch the news you won’t see some horrible, mangled body.

And once he’s stolen you away, it’s better if you don’t see the gruesome ways that he’s killed – how will you continue to look at him with such adoration and love in your eyes if you do? And Chrollo couldn’t stand to not have you gaze at him with anything short of fondness, admiration, desperation.

He closes the man’s apartment door, making sure to lock it, before tapping into the nen wedge lodged into your own shoulder – seems you’re walking home now. Perhaps you’d like some company from the shadows.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Chrollo is extremely methodical with his approach towards seducing you.

He’s careful to present himself as a gentleman, a classically chivalrous man with his dark features and smooth voice. He’s never tried to genuinely make someone develop feelings for him before – it’s only ever been for a job or to place someone into the palm of his hand, but with you it’s different.

He’s actively trying everything he can think of to make you like him, pouring through romance novels to find common themes, trying all manner of approaches and tactics so that you’ll only associate him with happiness and nerves.

And frankly, Chrollo will absolutely get you falling for him. By the time that he feels he’s ready to steal you away, you’ve probably developed a massive crush on him, your feelings strong and difficult to ignore. Really, you can’t be blamed – he’s a master manipulator, and while his romantic experience is dismal, it’s not so hard to find out your favorite flower and leave a bouquet at your door. It’s not so difficult to send expensive perfumes or jewelry to you, attached with a note detailing what it is about the piece that makes him think of you.

You’ll nearly be in love, something that he’s worked extremely hard to cultivate. It hasn’t been easy, holding off all this time. There’s been more opportunities than he can count where he could’ve so easily swept you into his arms and took off into the night, never to have you seen again by anyone but himself.

He’s had to physically restrain himself more often than he’d care to admit from reaching out and grabbing you, tucking you so tightly against his chest that you can’t breath as he boards the airship, the Troupe standing guard outside your new bedroom to make sure you don’t get any funny ideas. You’re laughably weak compared to him, and while it sometimes causes Chrollo to worry for your safety, it’s ultimately an asset to him.

Because now that you’re completely under the impression that Chrollo is the perfect man for you, it’s all so much easier to relocate you without a fuss. It all happens much faster than Chrollo had expected, however – all too soon you’re seeing blurry images on the television news one night, the cereal you’d been eating forgotten as you take in the familiar earrings, the dark eyes, the forehead tattoo he’s always written off as a family tattoo.

You’re in shock, eyes wide as you listen to the anchor list off the multitudes of crimes the Troupe has been accused of, and for a moment you refuse to believe it’s true. That’s not Chrollo – not your Chrollo, the man who picks you up at 7:00 sharp for the dinner date he’s reserved at the fanciest restaurant in town.

That’s not your Chrollo, the man who opens doors for you and pulls out your chair, almost placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you through large crowds. He could never murder someone – could never be the cause of the some hundreds of lost lives the TV claims he’s responsible for.

But then you hear a sigh, that familiar voice murmuring out that it’s really all just so unfortunate, I was hoping to gain your favor a bit more. Alas, the façade is up, I’ll make sure to pack that sweatshirt you love so much. Please, love, don’t struggle too much. There’s a pinprick in your neck, those dark eyes the last thing you see before blackness surrounds you. Chrollo can only mournfully look down at you, having caught your unconscious body in his arms.

It’s a good opportunity to run his fingers over your lips, to trace the shape of your nose, to press a surprisingly sweet kiss to your forehead. It was inevitable, but I’m sure you’ll forgive me eventually. We’re made for one another, after all.

Once you’re trapped with him, a few things will become very apparent to you very quickly. Firstly, Chrollo is a criminal – the dashing man you thought you knew is not real, his true personality slipping out almost immediately. He’s no longer attempting to hide the reality of his work, discussing new jobs and elimination plans over the phone in the same room as you, not mincing words when he tells the mystery man to make it messy, the more blood the better.

Second, he’s a very important man. He’s constantly being phone called, stepping out for this or that meeting, making decisions you don’t even understand. The very few people he’s ever let you meet almost seem to revere him, unconditionally bowing to his word and only addressing him as Boss.

Third, he’s much stronger than you’d realized, the odd pressure he seems to radiate growing and ebbing at various points in the day. You’d seen the way he’s merely flicked his wrist and a man that had seen the handcuffs initially around you was suddenly headless, sliced clean off without so much as a sound.

Lastly, Chrollo Lucilfer is desperate. Despite being kidnapped, forced to jump from hotel room to hotel room firmly attached at his hip, there’s never been a lull in the way that he demands your attention. There’s never been a free moment where he’s not looking at you, that same small smile quirking on his lips that used to fluster you but now only makes your gut twist. He’s always asking you questions – some are easy, surface level and don’t require effort on your part. He’s asking what your favorite color is, what your favorite breakfast foods are, if you prefer to wake up early or sleep in.

(He already know the answers, but he likes hearing you say it.)

Some are more difficult, making you consider your words before you speak them. He’s asking you whether you’ve ever dreamed of what your wedding venue will look like (he of course pushes for details, mentally noting everything and imagining it alongside you), what you would name a pet cat (either solid black or solid white fur, you pick), asking you to jot down a few of your favorite songs so that he can compile a playlist for you, as you have limited electronic access (the playlist is really for him, so that when he’s away on missions he can still feel like he’s with you, but that’s besides the point).

And then there’s the ‘why’ questions – these are the hardest, his eyes boring into you as he asks you why you claim to love your friends, why you’re fighting him so hard, why you think life itself even exists. They make you think, and while you don’t want to answer, Chrollo will keep pushing and pushing and pushing, using your words against you and slowly taking away any privileges you’ve managed to earn.

It’s not worth the fight that ensues if you ignore any of his questions, so you’ll answer as succinctly as possible, choosing your words carefully and watching for his reactions. Mostly, he just likes to hear your voice – knowing there’s no one else in the room, so you’re talking to him and only him, thinking of ways to respond to what he asked you.

He likes to know your opinion on things, each and every word you utter only furthering his fascination with you, contradictions in your thoughts popping up right and left. Mostly, as a captor, Chrollo is really just omnipresent. He’s always there, dark eyes trained on you and listening to every little thing you say, watching every little thing you do, commenting on what feels like every thought you have.

It’s exhausting, the way he’s constantly hovering, the way he’s constantly on the look out for any kind of interaction with him, and at first you’ll find yourself growing tired, afraid, frantic to be alone.

You’ll eventually explode, yelling at him and telling him to leave you alone, to disappear, to just get away from me, you monster! He’s silent as your words sink in, his face carefully neutral, before he laughs softly, shaking his head a bit.

If that’s what you wish, he’ll ominously tell you, walking out the hotel room door and locking it behind him. It’s wonderful, the first few hours without him – finally some time to yourself, to really cry or scream or just ponder your new life.

But after a day or two passes, thing start changing – you don’t like Chrollo, you promise, but it’s sort of lonely without him. The hotel room is big but empty, his missing presence louder than the silence. You’ll slowly find yourself starting to miss him, wishing he’d come back and continue asking those stupid questions of his, to brush his fingers against your cheeks and thighs, to gaze at you with that deranged but enamored look in his eye.

By day five, you’re frantic for him to come back, taking to sitting in the corner and staring at the door, persuading yourself that he’ll have to return sometime, that eventually he’ll come back to you, that he won’t just leave you alone to die.

And when he does, ten days after leaving you fully alone (minus the cameras placed in the room), he’s shocked to feel the way you rush in for a hug as the door swings open. You’re wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest, and Chrollo can’t help but blink widely down at you, lips parted but no sounds coming out. He knew the loneliness was getting to you, but you’d never initiated physical contact like this before. Was it an act of desperation, or was it because you were missing him?

 Did you ache for human contact, or did you ache for his contact?

He’s not sure, but he finds himself humming and returning the gesture, letting a hand pet your hair as he asks you if you missed him, if you’d gotten lonely, if you’d like to lay down for a bit with him. You’re not as clingy after you pull away from the hug, but Chrollo doesn’t care – you lay with him, a good two feet of space between your bodies, but it’s progress.

You’re more open after that, not flinching away and snapping at him when he reaches out to touch you. Instead, you’re almost leaning into his touch, enjoying it – which leads to another key aspect of being Chrollo’s captive; the touching.

He’s not invasive with it in the beginning, but as time passes you’ll notice the way his hand is always lingering at your waist, his fingers drumming against your skin. You’ll realize he’s always shuffling closer to your body, dissatisfied with the space between you. You’ll get used to the way he asks for a kiss before you both fall into slumber, his arms snaking around your middle and pulling you back against his chest as he sighs into your ear.

The rational side of you is enraged, disgusted by his attempts at romantic and intimate touches, but a part of you that grows larger with every passing day stops caring, slowly accepting that Chrollo is all you have left now, and that you should take advantage of every ounce of affection he’s willing to show you. It may not be real (though the obsession that gleams in his eyes certainly is, as is the blood that sometimes stains his pale chest when he returns home from a few days away), but it’s something.

It’s enough that you can almost overlook the way he keeps you trapped in the hotel rooms, stuck by his side, with only your books and himself to entertain you. You can almost forget the way he’s freely admitted to killing for you, nonchalantly threating family members if you try to escape, telling you he’ll hear about anything and everything you do because nothing can hide from him.

Eventually, you’ll stop caring – your life is easier now, all the stress and worries of independence gone, and Chrollo couldn’t be more pleased that you’re settling down, or mellowing, as he likes to say. You’re closer to realizing your true purpose with him – to continue to give him that warmth he craves, to continue to let him kiss and hold you, to let him steal every ounce of your attention and time.

He’s a thief after all, and now that you’re his, he’s entitled to take whatever he wants.

PUNISHMENTS:

While Chrollo is, overall, a somewhat lenient captor, he does have a few strict guidelines.

Firstly, you are to never ignore him. To ignore him would mean a rejection of his feelings for you, and while Chrollo is normally a cool, level-headed man, the second you even encroach on any actions that could be considered a rejection of a his love, of him, he’s clenching his jaw and doing his best to not lash out, keeping his temper and check and calculating ways to make you recognize the consequences of your actions.

Secondly, do not try to escape. He’s lucid enough to understand that once you’ve first been kidnapped, you’re likely to try everything in your power to escape. It doesn’t matter how deeply your feelings for him have formed – it’s only human nature to not enjoy being trapped, which is why he’ll have to train you, to make sure that you correctly acclimate to your new life with him, to your new future.

And lastly, you must never attempt to hurt him. Of course, you could never do any real damage, but the sentiment will hurt him more than he’d care to admit – by reaching out and wishing him harm, you are, once again, rejecting him. You’re displaying a desire to wound him, and he absolutely cannot have you thinking that you’re in any position of power or control in your relationship with him.

(You are, of course, because Chrollo’s dependence on you is really quite pathetic and sad, but you won’t be aware of the depth of his feelings for you until very, very late into your time with him. He’s good at hiding this, if only because letting you see him vulnerable would mean letting you have a sliver of control over him, a concept that terrifies him to his very core.)

Those three things are really the only ways to set Chrollo off – he’s generally pretty adaptable, able to read you like a clock and understanding what you’re thinking merely by watching your facial expressions, and because of this he won’t often punish you. He doesn’t like the idea of disciplining you, instead preferring to simply manipulate you into thinking and feeling the way he wants you to. But, if any of the three rules are breached, Chrollo finds himself resorting to more extreme measures, doing what he feels is necessary to garner the results he’s looking for.

Even so, he won’t ever rely upon physical means to punish you – he doesn’t like the idea of you being injured or hurt, and it would be a hassle to mend the damage hurting you would cause.

So, Chrollo defaults to more manipulative measures, punishments he knows will leave you crying and terrified, inflicting more psychological rather than physical damage. It’s the only way he can get what he wants, after all, and Chrollo has always been determined to get his way – even at the expense of you, his most prized possession.

When you’re staring at him with such hard, pained eyes, it almost makes him feel bad for a moment. Almost, if only because your words are replaying in his head, the tone and wavering in your voice making pause for a brief moment.

You’d said you hated him, that he was a monster, that you were unhappy being with him. It was all things Chrollo had already known, of course, but it certainly didn’t feel good to hear them come from you, nonetheless.

He just sighs, looking at you with that same belittled, heavy gaze, telling you to calm down, darling, don’t say things you don’t mean.

This just angers you more, it seems, because soon you’re nearly screaming, throwing a pillow or two at him as you yell that you’re not lying, you sick fuck! I hate you, I will never love you, I will never need you! Please, you have to let me go, I can’t stand being with you any longer!

What you’re saying isn’t even particularly harsh – he’s heard much, much worse from his victims over the years, searing words insulting his intelligence, his appearance, his morals, his past, everything and anything. And yet, there’s something about hearing the words coming from you that makes him flounder a bit, a sinking feeling in his gut making him stand up straight, appraising your shaking, heaving form across the room. It’s silent for a few long moments, before he simply adjust his jacket, pulling the lapels slightly and turning his back to you. Very well then, if that’s how you feel. As you wish, my dear.

And with that, he’s slipping out the hotel door, disappearing to who knows where. You’re left trembling in anger, your breathing unsteady, but before you can think you’re rushing to the door, wiggling the handle violently and sucking in a sharp breath when you feel that it’s unlocked, practically begging you to throw it open and leave this godforsaken hotel room.

As you rush away, sprinting down staircases and down never-ending hallways, you’ll distantly know that this is probably a trap. Chrollo wouldn’t just let you go, you’re sure, especially with such suspicious time. But you can’t stop yourself from taking advantage of the opportunity, deciding that even if it is a trap, the few brief moments of freedom that you’ll have will be enough to warrant it all.

And yet, as you push through the front doors and take a look around the busy, bustling street you’ve stumbled upon, you nearly sob. You have no idea where you are, the landmarks totally unfamiliar, but you’re free, feeling the sunlight on your skin without Chrollo’s presence pressed into your side, his cold fingers pushing into your hip or shoulder. You don’t have any money and have no idea where to go, but your legs are moving faster than you can think, wandering through the city along back roads and side streets.

Hours quickly pass by, exhaustion beginning to settle into your bones as the sun dips back behind the horizon, leaving the city in shadows and quiet aside from the hum of cars and the bustle of city goers. It’s only once you’re stumbling through an alley that you hear it – him, to be specific.

At least, you’re pretty sure it’s a man – the footsteps are obviously trying to be quiet, but they’re not doing a good enough job to go unnoticed by you. He’s breathing loudly, too, and as you glance over your shoulder, eyes wide and scared, you don’t see anyone.

You’re sure there’s someone there, that they’ve followed you down this alleyway, and as you press your back against the slightly wet brick wall of the building behind you, you feel your heart practically about to beat out of your chest.

Who was there?

 It’s silent for a moment, before a short laugh is barked out, the man emerging from behind a dumpster. Shadow falls over his face, making it impossible to see his face, but you do see his size. He’s a monster of a man, bulky shoulders easily above your head, muscles bulging along his arms and under his pants. A wild bed of hair sits atop his head, and you feel yourself freeze, fear eating away at your heart.

You can’t move as the man comes closer, face still hidden in the darkness, and it’s only when he comes down to punch at your stomach do you realize what’s about to happen, panic engulfing your senses as his fist comes closer and closer and closer – It sucks the air right out of  your lungs, making you wheeze and gasp for breath, knees slamming into the concrete below you as you gasp and struggle to regain your breath.

The man laughs, a timber, horrible sound, but stops abruptly at the distant sound of sirens. He curses under his breath, and you feel his eyes on you, daring to look up at him in between your fits of coughing.

You’re lucky, bitch, he starts, voice gravelly as he begins backing up. Next time I’ll get you, the cops won’t be coming and I’ll show you why weak little things like you shouldn’t be in alleyways late at night – makes it hard for me to resist ya, and I think you’d look even better without that ugly ass nightgown you’ve got on.

And with that, he’s sprinting down the alley, running away even as the sirens get further and further away. You’re left to lay on the cold, wet ground, having regained your breath but letting tears stream down your face. You don’t want to admit it, but you’d been hoping that Chrollo would magically appear, just like he always does. You’d hoped that he would’ve stopped the stranger’s punch, that he would’ve saved you just like he used to.

The thought of Chrollo makes you flinch, but you can’t stop yourself from wondering if maybe he was right. Maybe he’s right that you can’t take care of yourself, that you’re too weak for this world, that you’re better off with a monster like him (quoted directly from him, with that signature smirk of his) rather than the everyday men.

You curl up, knees to your chest for a while, before your up again, wandering and trying to retrace your steps back to the hotel you’d run out of only hours ago. Eventually you’ll make it back, and as you wait in the lobby, rubbing at your now dirty and bruised body, your eyes will flick across every person entering and exiting, before you begrudgingly make your way to the elevator, riding up tot eh floor you knew your room was on.

It takes everything in you to knock on the door – his door, but eventually you do. And when he opens it, a small hello trickling past his lips, you can’t help but let out an ugly, gaspy sob, rushing forward and wrapping your arms around him. It feels horrible, disgusting, so very good to feel how he returns the hug, gently patting your back and smoothing down your hair, a soft hello my dear making your shoulders shake.

He won’t ask too many questions, letting you inside and nearly forcing you into the shower, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Even when he’s got you wearing a fresh set of soft, lounging clothing (with a neckline just a bit too low to cover your collarbone, something his eyes are often drawn to), you can’t find it in yourself to ask. He’s talking to you, after all, asking you if you enjoyed your time in the real world, if it was as grand as you’d hoped.

 His eyes are twinkling, and although the apology you offer up isn’t as loud or insistent as he’d hoped for, it still makes him smile, his throat bobbing as he loudly swallows.

The conversation is over for the evening, and it’s only after you fall asleep (in his bed, he notes with a somewhat shy smile and a shaky exhale) that he pulls out his phone, pressing the contact name and smiling at the dial tone.

Thank you, Uvogin, he starts, letting a hand run very lightly over your leg under the sheets. This favor won’t be forgotten.

OVERALL DANGER:

9/10

The thing that makes Chrollo a dangerous yandere is less his violent tendencies, and more of the way you nearly won’t recognize yourself after being with him for long enough.

Of course, he loves you – a sick, messy, disgusting love that he quickly grows addicted to. He finds you irresistible, fascinating and growing drunk off the way your body fits with him, but he’s still a criminal. He’s still a mass murderer, singlehandedly responsible for the deaths of more than he can count, and he will not be suddenly listening to commonplace morals once his feelings for you form.

There’s no such thing as bad to him – he views you as his woman, his partner and his most precious, cherished possession, and as a result he has absolutely no qualms about doing what he wants to you. He’s manipulative, lying to you just as often as he tells the truth, making you feel as if you’re going crazy because you have no idea what’s real and what’s fake.

He’s possessive, slowly isolating you and barring you from any contact at all with anyone he deems a threat to your future with him, or anyone at all, really. He doesn’t want you to grow feelings for another man, and has no issues with cutting off your contact with everyone in your life that you hold dear. He’s always got that same look on his face; a small, prideful smile, his dark eyes so impossibly wide and sparkling as he stares at you, every ounce of his attention focused on you and only you.

He’s terrifying, and while you’ll more than likely develop feelings for him before you know of his true self, you’ll begrudgingly find those feelings doesn’t entirely dissolve even once you know that he’s a crook and a perverted, horrible man who’s stolen you away. You’ll probably still find him charming, still thinking his hair looks soft enough to touch, still finding his hands (littered with a fair share of veins) drool worthy, even when you realize how many have likely died because of them.

You’ll hate yourself for it, but you will eventually find yourself growing just as dependent on Chrollo as he is on you – and really, that’s exactly what he wants. He wants you to need him, to yearn for him and crave him, if only because he feels all that for you and more, and he needs to make sure he has you under his thumb, so that your pretty smile and lovely voice and heavenly body are never not by side.

Things would grow ugly if you were to ever be snatched away from him, corpses piling up and his own sanity slipping away until he can hold you in his arms once more, pressing his lips messily, desperately against yours, hearing you say his name with that lilt you always do.

Chrollo needs you, and it’s best if you just give in – you may essentially be ending your own life, but you’re giving meaning to his and saving so many others. So, so many others.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #_lee's profiles #_hxh #_chrollo lucilfer

[laiiaaa]

NICE TO MEET YOU — JJ MAYBANK (PROLOGUE)

summary: For much of his teenaged life, JJ has had it easy when it comes to charm. You turn out to be a formidable opponent.

length: 2.7k

contains: uhhh drinking beer?? (gross tbh!), actually pretty PG, warning for JJ being a whiny little brat and a little mean to his friends and a bit of a dork (it's painful but we love him...maybe), NOT proofread ok be nice

masterlist | next

“JJ, are you gonna go up to her? Or just keep staring at her like a creep?”

He almost doesn’t hear Kiara, and maybe he wouldn’t have if it weren’t for John B hitting him in the back of the head. 

“Ah—what the fuck, man?” JJ bats John B away before answering to Kie. “I’m not staring. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” He takes another sip from his beer and puts his weight on his free hand. 

This isn’t his usual routine—there’s a certain thrum in his veins that tells him tonight has a little more weight to it than he’s used to. His usual routine, of course, is simple: go to kegger, find a touron, flirt with her, engage in some…precarious activities, bid farewell when morning comes (or, if he gets lucky, before dawn). There’s never been any issue. It’s fun, he’s young, he’s a good-looking guy, all parties are willing.

But now you have caught his eye, and he’s not sure if this routine will be able to keep up.

“I think you do,” Sarah insists. “We all know you’re checking her out.” His face stays blank, so she pushes him further. “Come on, JJ. With the crochet bikini top and the red converse?”

“They’re brown, actually—”

“Oh, so you are staring. Got it.”

The rest of the group laughs at JJ’s expense, and he has to admit he did walk right into it. He’s just…off his game. 

He shoots up from his seat anyway, downing the last of his beer in an attempt to build up some courage. “I’m gonna go up to her.”

Pope raises his brows. “Right now?”

The blonde jumps, shakes out his limbs, gets the blood flowing. “Right now.”

“Oh,” Kie quips.

He points back at her, still psyching himself up. “Shut up, Kie, you started this.”

She lifts her hands up defensively, and John B jumps in again. “You gonna start walking over there, or…?”

JJ turns his head, eyes you sitting alone on a piece of driftwood. “Yep. Gonna do that now.” Another couple jumps and a shake of his head for good measure. A deep, exaggerated breath. He points to Kie and says, “Fuck you,” then Sarah, “Fuck you,” then John B, “And fuck you,” though there’s no real malice in his words. He starts taking hastened steps backwards, and lends a quick wave as he calls out, “Love you, Pope!” 

If the pogues say anything in response, he doesn’t hear them.

A breeze casts through his hair as he walks over to you, and his nerves are on the rise again. It takes twenty paces before he’s seriously regretting this gusto, another five before he considers turning around, a painful ten more, until he’s close enough to be officially approaching you and it’s too late. His pulse is pounding in his ears. You’re wearing a crochet bikini top as Sarah described, loose lightwash shorts covering the bottom half of the set, and have brown converse on, as he thought. There’s a glow to your skin that makes him think you came straight from the beach.

You pay him no mind until he’s looking over you, five feet away. “Hi.”

Are you talking to him? (Yes, you are—you’re looking straight at him.) 

“Hey,” he answers, gesturing to your makeshift seat. “Can I sit?” He’s more antsy now that he’s getting a close up view. He runs a hand through his hair to at least do something to hide it.

“Be my guest.” You move to the side and tap the space next to you, looking up and giving him a smile he could die for.

It takes him a second to process he’s gotten this far. “Thanks,” he says. When he does sit down, his knee nearly brushes past yours.

“And what brings you to this side of the party?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs—lie. “You seemed…uh, interesting?” As soon as the words come out they leave a bad taste in his mouth. Since when is he so bad at this?

“Interesting? Jeez,” you laugh, “And here I was thinking I had a cute boy approach me to flirt.” You brush your hair out of your face, looking off to the ocean as a distraction. The sun has long since set, but there’s still a twilight glow to the sky.

“Wait, wait—that’s not what I meant.” He shifts his body to face you, a hand hovering by your knee as if he needs that physical connection to make you hear him. “It came out wrong. I’ve just never seen you around, y’know?”

“I guess we have that in common, huh?”

He’s sure he’s already fucked this up, and he can’t help but curse himself for it. Hidden somewhere—maybe in your snarky tone, or your emerging smirk, he also thinks there’s a chance. “Yeah,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.” He has to shoot a look over to his friends, who are oh so attentive to this initial meeting. It would be too embarrassing to return so soon. “Did I fuck this up already? Should I leave?”

It’s your turn to observe him, now. The pensive look on his face, the fidgety hands, the toned arms. What’s the worst that could happen? “No, you can stay. We can start over if you’d like.” 

He nods his head, his muscles relax. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you agree, offering him your hand and your name.

“JJ,” he offers you in return, taking your hand in his for a respectable shake. This could work, he thinks. 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile and let go of his hand. He’s cute, you think.

“Nice to meet you, too.” His hand still buzzes even after touching you. “Do you live on the island?” Please say yes, please say yes. 

“Only in the summers I do. My grandparents’ house. I’m guessing you do, though?”

A piece of his heart drops, but not entirely. “Yeah—how’d you know?”

“It’s not the type of question someone asks if they’re only here for vacation; they usually just assume your stay is temporary too.” You shrug. “Just my experience.”

“Huh.” He nods his head as if you’ve bestowed upon him a revelation. “How long’ve you been coming here, then?”

“Oh, I can’t even remember. Maybe since I was five?”

“Really.” He can’t fight off the smile that emerges, and he doesn’t even know why. This isn’t any extraordinary conversation, this isn’t something he hasn’t done before, yet he’s more nervous than he’s ever been talking to a girl. “Where at?”

You smirk, instinctively turning your body towards him the slightest bit. Much like when he first sat down, your knees almost touch. “Not far from here, two miles tops, on the water. Why, you wanna stalk me or something?”

He smiles back at you. “No—”

“Really? Even though I’m interesting?” You start to think you’ll never get tired of teasing this boy, especially if it means seeing that smile and the dimple that follows.

He turns away and ducks his head down, hiding his embarrassment. “I thought you said we could start over?”

You make a thoughtful face as if you were mulling over his words, and you can feel his gaze on you. “I did say that, didn’t I? Hm, guess I forgot.”

“Guess so,” he agrees, leaning back and putting his weight into his arms. 

“Your turn to make it even.” You push lightly against his shoulder as you jest. God, those arms. “Where can I stalk you?”

“Uh…” He laughs to himself, embarrassment more genuine this time. His eyes shoot up to the sky to avoid yours. How much should he tell? “You, uh…you don’t want to know that.” And that’s already more than enough. He doesn’t do this—he shouldn’t, really. He knows that this is how bad decisions start, and from there comes even worse consequences.

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?” 

No answer. Sure, he’s had his share of girls over at The Chateau, but being poor isn’t necessarily something you throw at the nearest girl you’ve got your eye on. Especially, he thinks, not one with a smile like yours.

Your voice goes a bit softer, still curious. “Are you on The Cut?” You lean a little closer, dropping your head on the shoulder closest to him, nearly on his own. He smells of beer and the beach and a bit of amber. 

When he turns to face you, he’s not even six inches from kissing you. His jaw goes slack as he thinks over your question—which seems like the millionth of the night, and he’s sure he’d take a million more if time would allow—and his eyes work their way around your face, trying to burn it into his memory. If he tells you the truth, you might go, but he’s got a strong feeling that you’d find out about a lie. 

“I know we don’t even know each other,” you start, taking in a breath that seems to justify gazing at his lips for a little too long for only having met minutes ago, “But I’d hope you wouldn’t pin me as the type to judge.”

He scoffs, turning again to avoid the feeling in his gut when you hold eye contact—like you can read from him things he doesn’t know himself. “I didn’t pin you as anything, princess.” There’s an edge to his voice he doesn’t really mean, some spite in the name princess, and he curses himself again. This shouldn’t be so hard.

Before you give him a quip, you turn your eye to a group of teens, two boys and two girls, who seem to be watching you and JJ. They look at you, then to each other, point here and there, then giggle. You figure they notice your attention, because soon enough they’ve already stopped, instead stifling laughter amongst themselves. 

“JJ, I know I just said I’m not the type to judge, but I really hope those aren’t your friends over there watching us.”

This time, his heart does drop entirely. Is this a fucking joke? His first thought is that you're mistaking some nosy tourons for his flock, but lo and behold, those terrible four are his friends, and he sees for himself their scheming. 

“What the fuck…” he mumbles to himself. He gives you a sympathetic look, aware of how this might appear. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why they—they’re just really annoying sometimes.” He pauses his rambling for a moment to flip them off. “I know this looks bad, I get that—”

“Oh, it does,” you add, fueling the fire that is his panic. 

But then you’re laughing, joking about how panicked he looks, and he has another million questions to ask because why are you laughing when he looks like a fucking douchebag right now?

“I don’t really care, though, if it makes you feel better.” You lend him a smile as you check your watch. “I should be heading home, anyway.”

Fuck. “Why?” He knows how desperate he sounds, but he only just met you, and he’s already made a fool of himself. Twice.

You press your hands to your knees as you sit up. “It’s late, and I’ve got a curfew I already missed.” He’s wearing a pleasing look as you peer down on him, his hand wavering out to grab yours. “It was nice to meet you. Tell your friends I say hi.”

Why couldn’t he have talked to you earlier? He doesn’t think so much before doing it—he jolts up from his seat and grabs your hand, gently. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck am I doing right now? “Can I at least get your number?”

You take a few steps back, testing his reach and his adamance to keep you tethered for more. This could be fun. “No,” you chirp. “I don’t give my number to strangers.” You slip your hand from his and turn around, feet digging into soft sand as you make your escape, though you’re coy enough to give him a half-turn and a barely-there wave.

You’re ten paces away when he finally comes to his senses. “What if I want to see you again?” he calls after you, trying to make himself heard over the commotion (oh, how stupid it all is to him now) and the music playing (nobody wants to hear that, anyway). He feels a force gluing him in place, like you’ll disappear if he follows.

“You’ll figure it out!” you shout back over your shoulder. You pick up your pace, leaving JJ with nothing more than a silhouette to seek and a name to your face.

He’s stuck in place, mouth open as if he were to plead for you to come back. In his hand he swears he can still feel your touch, or the electricity you left behind, at least. He pictures how close you were, how he could’ve taken your lips in his, how he could’ve cradled your jaw in his hands and made him yours for that moment.

What the fuck just happened? What is he doing?

He quickly snaps out of this daze. He had your attention for—what, five minutes? Ten if he’s generous? This isn’t like him, to be caught up on another one getting away. That’s all it was: another one. He’s sure that he’ll find another girl another night, and he’ll forget whatever this was. Was—past tense, a good old friend. 

Running a hand through his hair, he takes in the breeze again before turning back to the pogues. There’s levity in his steps, his previous anxiety gone. He figures this is a good thing, in fact—he doesn’t need his summer marred by a relationship that isn’t even meant to be.

As JJ walks closer, Pope makes a face at him, lifting his hands by his shoulders in confusion. “What happened over there?”

JJ shrugs, offers little unrest. “Nothing, man. Talked her up a bit…” He trails off, casting an over the shoulder glance to your former location.

“And…?” Sarah continues.

Kie sips her beer and smiles to herself. “We tried to see what was happening—”

“Yeah, well that much was obvious—” JJ snaps, huffing as he sits next to Pope for being the least offensive of the bunch— “She saw you guys.” He snatches up a rock by his feet and turns it in his hands.

The group knows better than to push him when he’s like this—not when they want to enjoy the rest of the night, at least. John B, Sarah, and Kie resume their conversation about some touron group they'd witnessed earlier, and JJ finds himself filled with disinterest at the thought of listening, even on its periphery. He throws the stone back into the sand and takes a helping of beer when Pope offers it.

There’s an elbow nudging his side, followed by Pope’s voice. “You alright?”

He shrugs, makes a sour face. “Yeah, she was cool, ‘s all.”

Pope’s brows twist in confusion. “That girl you met?” He waits for the other to nod his head. “You get her name at least?”

JJ nods again. “Not like I’ll see her again. She said she’s been here every summer since she was little, and it was only now that I saw her.”

“So?” He pats JJ’s back, hard enough to hopefully knock some sense into him. “You wanna see her again, right?”

He takes a sip, shrugging again. “Not really.” Another sip, a glance to and fro. 

“I mean, odds are that you will eventually run into her, might as well be expecting it.”

He scoffs, lending Pope a smile to show his incredulity. “Odds are, I won’t. And I’d prefer to keep it that way.” He tilts his head back with his cup against his lip, downing the last of his beer and the taste of a fib. Or two. Or three.

JJ accepts that he drew the short straw for the night. All he has left of you is a name and a face and a feeling, and if he knew better, he wouldn’t press his luck. Because truthfully, the odds don't seem to be in his favor.

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj outer banks #jj obx #jj obx fic #jj obx imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #outer banks #obx #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank one shot

[whiskygoldwings]

ooh may we know something about The Corries and Crochet please? 🥺 (or if that's already been taken, the Codywan wingfic!!)

The Corries and Crochet was indeed already taken! You can find the answer here - https://www.tumblr.com/whiskygoldwings/749579660300582912/pls-i-need-the-corries-and-crochetfor-the-wip?source=share

(I'm weirdly excited about that little fic so very happy to be asked about it twice!)

Soooo, the Codywan Wingfic is another entirely gratuitous fic! It's inspired a bit by all those fics that put the emphasis on "the clones were made for the Jedi" and the fics that make Obi-Wan Stewjoni, and the Stewjoni a bit less than human. In this case, they're winged predators. Cody catches a glimpse of Obi-Wan and instantly goes "that one is mine. There may be many like it, but that one is mine." and Obi-Wan is very polite and honourable considering he technically outranks Cody, but boy will Cody NOT be having that!

I started this a whiiiile ago, and I won't lie, it's kind of fallen to the side in my Fox obsession, so I'm not sure when/if I'll finish it. I absolutely bloody love wing AUs though, in case that's not extremely obvious by my spamreblogs! I'd quite like to come back to this someday, but it won't be today!

A little snippet!

-

Cody glimpses the Jedi for the first time while eating his regulation meal at his regulation seat at his regulation table in his regulation hall.

He wouldn't normally have even looked up. Something at the edge of his vision had twitched, and he'd found himself glancing over before he even realised.

The man looking down at him was new, and that was dangerous. He'd been looking down with a blank expression, the kind that hid thoughts. Lama Su was stood beside him, hands clasped infront of him as he gazed down upon his creation. In another being, that would have been pride. Cody knew it for avarice.

Then the thing twitched again, and Cody dropped his spoon.

The new man was still stood in exactly the same position, but his wings had slowly moved out around him slightly, great, heavy things that curled carefully around him. The man caught the fall of his spoon, even as Lama Su had turned away at that moment and missed it. His eyes flashed silver in the light as he glanced at Cody, and he found himself pinned to his bench. Something in the man's gaze reached down inside of him, and Cody only hoped the man didn't find him wanting.

-

Thank you for asking!

#WIP game #ask answered #codywan #wing!fic

[sin-sidejob]

Hi! If you don't mind taking requests, could you write headcanons for Brett Hand with a shy s/o that has crochet as their love language? Lol himbo lives in my head rent free and I'm always like "Hey I heard you offhandedly mention this is your favorite color, have a scarf I made"

No worries if you don't want to, thanks!

Brett Hand x GN!Reader:

Tethered

Warnings: SFW, GENDER NEUTRAL, canon aligned depictions and material, BRETTS SIX PACK MAKES AN APPEARANCE, brett cries but it’s happy, food mention once, about coffee that Brett’s pouring no actual consuming of food or drink

Contents: SO PAINFULLY SWEET YOURE GONNA NEED TO BOOK A DENTIST APPOINTMENT, istg it’s so cute and y’all two are fools, brett needs love and cries when he gets it

Author note: this is so precious as a concept and thank you for submitting this request I literally fell in love with the idea when I first read this ask. Muah — all the kisses for you

Brett had always been accustomed to giving more love than recieving it. From his siblings, his parents, childhood friends and fraternity brothers. Even coworkers. But working with Cognito Incorporated opened his heart a bit with how he got to receive love, true affection back.

The one who cracked that well-guarded heart was you.

He was not immediately enamored by you. Not so say he didn’t find you incredibly awesome and cool, someone he immediately befriended and got along with. Brett just hadn’t fallen in love with you immediately.

That’s not to say it didn’t take long for him to actually develop feelings, strong ones, that had him pining after you wistfully in a manner that irritated the fuck out of each and every member of the gang. Andre was this close to just throwing a bunch of illicit drug recipes together in attempts to create a love potion or something adjacent.

He was this close to being nothing but a literally lovesick puppy, trailing and tripping over your feet and eager to get any meagre amount of attention and affection from you. Brett would literally lie his head on your knee or lap while you worked at your desk if he could, and just beam up at you.

He’s sick in the head. The good kind. Lovesick.

Throughout all of this, he thinks you’re just oblivious to him or don’t really know him. Think of him as a stranger. The truth is quite the opposite, with you being incredibly interested and intrigued by the man. Finding him charming and sweet, complete package looks and personality wise. No one’s got a bad word to say about him.

That and he’s the type to lend you an umbrella when it’s pouring when he’s only got the one between the two of you. That’s because he did.

You had stayed late working on a report for your department that got lost in the shuffle and needed to be expedited, forgetting the time and hurrying out only to find the parking lot in a down pour. While mentally bracing to make a run for it, you catch Brett Hand extending his umbrella and offering it.

“You can have it! My car’s closer than yours is, makes sense that way.”

And you’re about to offer just sharing it and walking together but the man carries on, rambling about how you can even keep it if you want and he flushes before dashing out, drenching himself in a mad dash for his car truly not parked to far away. Sadly, rain still dealt harshly on his button down.

Luckily for you, you got a glimpse of his shirt when drenched, understanding the appeal of wet t-shirt contests immensely now that you fell into a stupor just looking at his chest.

He tucks into his car, seating himself in the drivers seat and buckling before taking a second to check his mirrors — he’s that great of a driver? Where did he come from, an L.L. Bean catalogue?— and starts the radio before turning back to glance at you, sitting underneath the lip of the building entrance and shrouded from the rain. He waves.

You wave back.

Brett doesn’t pull out of the parking lot and he gets confused looking at you standing there before you realize with one of those “oh shit I’m being stupid” moments that you need to go to your own car, go on home, and he’s waiting to make sure you get out okay. As you unfold the umbrella and lift it overhead and step out into the rain, you make a note of visiting the cloning department to ask about Brett and whether he’s real or not.

You lose yourself in thought but make it to your car, stepping into the drivers seat in a mirrored motion similar to Brett and do your routine, turning the car on and checking the mirrors and backseat, turning the radio on then pulling up navigation. And as you tuck the closed umbrella against the shotgun seat, you glance back and see Brett scrolling through his phone and glance up to catch your eye and he smiles, waves again cheerily.

Good lord he’s not real. Did Hallmark start back up their cloning company again? It’s not Christmas yet.

You put the car in drive, passing his in the parking lot as you pull out to the main road leading to the highway for your route home. You try not to think of him when you sing along to the radio when the lyrics of love songs catch your throat.

—

Brett sees you alone the next week, not catching an eyeful of you between the rainy day and now. He can’t take his eyes off you and he nearly overflows the coffee cup in his hand in the communal kitchen.

You look so lovely and he’s trying to figure out what you have done with your hair and then the next he knows you are already on your way and walking up to him.

“Hi Brett.”

“Hi!”

He’d shoot himself in the foot if he could.

You look amused at how his tone lifted in pitch when he saw you, bright smile unwavering and shift on your feet. “I wanted to thank you for the other day and wanted to make you something — and it’s completely fine if you don’t like it! I won’t be offended.” You’re lying through your teeth.

Brett flushes crimson, pretty pink on his tanned cheeks and tugs his lip between his teeth, smiling like a child and his eyes get wide with joy, thinking you at least have to like him somewhat to make him something.

“You didn’t have to do that! Going out of your way and everything, but I’m sure I’ll love it. I don’t know how there could be anything you could make that I wouldn’t love.”

While he’s berating himself for almost just confessing all his feelings, you’re trying to not let your heart unravel and pool at your feel like an upturned spool of twine.

You shift and remove your hands from behind your back, revealing a bundle of fabric in this lovely apricot shade. His favorite color — orange. It’s tied with a big bow, one of those wired ones from the craft store, something personal about it that has his tummy seizing and twirling at the same time. God he could cry.

He tunes back in, eyes glancing between the bundle of fabric in your palms and up to your lips that move, and he’s just entranced. Bewitched. Ensnared.

“- like to crochet sometimes, it’s fun and it keeps my hands busy and my mind empty. But I hope you like it, Gigi told me it was your favorite color and I wanted to repay you.”

“Can I hug you?”

“What?”

You quite nearly drop the scarf you made for him when you hear Brett speak and hold yourself back from screaming yes but just manage a nod and a somewhat timid smile, muttering a sure that makes both of your grins wider.

He smells like old spice and old fashioned cologne, like hand cream and coffee, feels like a dream and his arms wrap around you and you want to cling to them and beg him to never let go.

Instead you don’t, you hug him back, and say nothing about the tears that flick at the collar of your shirt’s neckline and how he tugs you so close. You just run a hand through his hair and hum, unworried about the scarf pressed between you and your worries for if you’d ever get to be close to him.

You already were, and with the strong arms wrapped around you, you felt tied and strung to him, utterly hooked. With his head on your shoulder and feeling his watery smile there against your pulse, you had no worries. No loose threads.

You just felt him.

#inside job #my inside job #personal inside job #brett hand headcanon #Brett Hand #Brett hand x reader #brett x reader #Brett Hand x gn!reader #x gn reader #x gn!reader #brett hand imagine

[fangirlofallthefanthings]

Hello!

My name is Char. (any similar nickname is acceptable) I am an artist, writer, and, as the name implies, a fan of many things. I mostly reblog or shout rare, post-worthy thoughts into the ether. At the moment, my interests lie with:

The Trojan War and Greek Mythology in general

Ancient History

EPIC: The Musical

Crochet

However, if anything shiny catches my eye, I'll also reblog that.

If you choose to follow, great! But there are a few ground rules you need to be aware of:

This is a safe space. If you're going to be a bigot, terf, ableist, racist, any sort of phobic, or disrespectful in any way, shape, or form, get the fuck out.

With that out of the way I have posted a few things that might tickle your fancy on A03! I am the account "A_Humble_Fan17" over there. Here is the link

There is much more on the way, but in the meantime, feel free to check out the tags "fanfic" and "char writes" for any updates or snippets! Here are a few things I'm working on:

A series of four works that go through Odysseus's life (details below)

An AU where Paris of Troy mistakenly kidnaps Penelope instead of Helen titled Ithaca's Nine

A medieval AU with a twist involving characters from the Iliad and Odyssey titled Adventure Awaits! that I will be updating here on Tumblr (link to Pt.1)

A post-canon fic for the movie trilogy Night At The Museum titled When The World's (Treasures Are) At Stake (link to snippet)

THE BIG SERIES:

A Boy and A Goddess: Odysseus fights the giant boar as a boy and wins, gaining Athena's favor and a large scar on his leg. Tiny Bean(tm) hijinx continue through the years as he becomes a man. And maybe a little self-discovery?

A Change of Plans: Word travels to Ithaca that Helen of Sparta is up for marriage. Prince Odysseus decides to go, mainly to make allies for Ithaca but partly to watch the chaos unfold. But when he meets Helen's cousin, Penelope, plans change. This work involves the evolution of OdyPen's relationship, the oath of Tyndareus, Odysseus winning Penelope's hand, their marriage, and Odysseus becoming king. Also baby Telemachus! :D

Troy Story: War. Lots of angst. A lot of blaming himself. But he finds unlikely friends and allies through it all.

The King and The Infant: (explanation here)

I can't wait to share more with you all! More is on the way! I promise! <3

Asks: Open! :D

Worm by my lovely moot, @iroissleepdeprived

#char ramblings #big post

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

Sister Cities: Night Vale (Welcome to Vermillion Falls)

A friendly desert community where the sun is bright, the stars have forsaken us, and the moon is a lie. Welcome to Night Vale.

Good evening, Vermillion Falls! Wow, it's been so long since I last spoke to all of you. I think it was... 2014? 2015, maybe? And I don't know when the last time before then would have been. What a wonderful time it is that we get to participate in this tradition once again. Well anyway, for those of you hearing me for the first time, my name is Cecil Gerswhin Palmer, and I am the community radio host of the beautiful town of Night Vale! In case you didn't know, we are your sister city! You'll never meet us, and we'll never meet you if you know what's good for you, but we are united nonetheless by the ties of family. And what could be stronger than that?

Speaking of family, Vermillion Falls, I'm sure you all remember the guy I was telling you about last time I was on the air - Carlos the Scientist. He is a beautiful man with beautiful hair and an oaky voice, who conducts scientific experiments in his lab by Big Rico's Pizza, and he is utterly perfect in every single imperfect way. The last time I spoke to you, Carlos was my boyfriend, and he had recently returned from being trapped in a desert otherworld. Well - then, Carlos and I have gotten *married*! Isn't that the most wonderful news? Isn't that the most fascinating piece of journalism ever to cross your ears? We had our ceremony on the 15th of December, in 2016, at -

Oh, hang on, Vermillion Falls. I've just been handed a press release by my newest intern, Safa. Safa, should I even be reading Night Vale news, if the people of my community aren't going to hear it? Oh well. I guess it can't hurt. More about my husband soon.

But first, a message from the Night Vale Interfaith Crochet Club and Political Activism Coalition. As many of you know, this group advocates for the recognition of crochet into popular culture, as both an artform and a really cool hobby. "We want everyone to know that regardless of what you believe in, we can all get behind making cool stuff out of yarn" said Robin, who is one of the coalition's organizers, and also a priest at the Temple of Hekate out in the sand wastes. "First, you chain to the desired length. Then, you either go back into the second loop from the hook, or you chain extra and yarn over. Then, you repeat your actions to make various stitches. It's great." The Night Vale Interfaith Crochet Club and Political Activism Coalition would like to invite you to their meetings. You can find them every other Wednesday night from 5:01 to 6:07:32, with locations announced every week on their Instagram page. Crochet materials and political pamphlets will be provided. When asked by a member of the press whether knitters would be welcome at the coalition's meetings, Robin hissed, then threw down zir skein of yarn, then vanished into a puff of vapor. So maybe don't attend the meetings if you like to knit.

This has been: a press release.

Okay, listeners, back to talking about my husband. So, Carlos and I had our ceremony on the 15th of December in 2016, and it's honestly hard to believe that that was almost seven years ago already. It feels like yesterday that my beautiful Carlos walked down the aisle towards me, his face all alight with the love we share as we wed in front of our entire town! And now, we have a beautiful baby boy who we adopted. Although I guess he isn't really a baby anymore, since he's about to turn six. Our sweet Esteban is the joy of our lives, and he takes so well after both his fathers. He started talking at eighteen months, but not in the usual baby-babble way. His first word was "I", followed by the words "desire destruction should follow in my wake, and also I would like another Gerber pouch, please." Carlos and I were so proud of him. How many children have a complete sentence at the same time as their first word? Do you know any children like that, Vermillion Falls? Of course not. My Esteban is a truly remarkable child, completely one of a kind. He loves giraffes and other animals, and he also loves to throw tantrums where he hurls his toys around the room and screams at the sky. When that happens, Carlos has to pick him up and rock him back and forth singing "Valjean's Soliloquy" from Les Miserables until he calms down. And it works every time. I'm so happy with my family. I was texting your radio host, Frank Luna, in our town voice group chat, and I sent him so many pictures of my husband. Like this one, where -

Ughhhh, another press release? Safa, I'm doing extremely important work here. I know this is only your first day, but usually press releases are supposed to be spaced out more, and I just did one! No, I totally did. Um, you might think I've been rambling about my family for a really long time, but time is subjective, and I am the station manager here. Okay, fine. Let's see what we've got.

The Night Vale Board of Education would like to announce an update to all their dictionaries. Effective immediately, they will be changing science curriculums to include "guilt" as a step in the scientific method. "Just take a moment to ponder what you're doing," said Director of Emergency Press Conferences Pamela Winchell, who wore a Jurassic Park Hoodie. "And think about whether it's really worth it, whatever 'it' is that you're about to do. Scientifically, I mean. This makes sense to me. Any questions? Yes, you with the clipboard." Several journalists with clipboards began speaking at the same time. "Leann with the clipboard," Pamela clarified. Leann asked her question, which was not picked up by the mics, but which Pamela helpfully repeated back verbatim. "Is our decision impacted by the recent works of Doctor J-" Here Pamela paused and made a face as if she had just bit into the sourest of lemons. "By Doctor Jan-" Pamela paused again and shakily took a sip of water. "I'm going to pretend you said by 'that woman' because that's more tolerable to me. Yes, it is. Anyone else? No? Alright, bye then." With that, Pamela hastily climbed into a car and drove away. Well, listeners, I must say, I completely agree with this decision. Mostly because I texted my husband to ask him what he thought, and he said he agrees too. So there you have it.

And now for traffic.

A car lies alone in a quiet ditch and the driver is still alive. On the back bumper, there is an array of colorful stickers, all pastel and candy-hued. One sticker says "Night Vale Community College Honor Student", a declaration of personal achievement that would be pretentious, were it not so admirable. There is a sticker that says "Save the Bees" and a sticker that says "Shop local" with a little cartoon farmer. There is a pride flag sticker, a nautical delta flag sticker, a sticker of the US flag on fire. The tires of the car are also on fire. Just the front ones. The left side door is dented inward, and already flowers are growing through the rust hole in the open passenger door. It squeaks on its hinges, still swaying, while dandelions and nightshade poke up through the metal. In the rearview mirror, lights twinkle red and blue. The pieces of metal scattered all around catch this light, and reflect it, dancing all over the quiet ditch and the empty road, a dazzling, shimmery display. A moth lands on the windshield, which resembles a disco ball, if disco balls were vaguely rectangular. The lights are getting closer now, and the moth flits away into the night. A car lies alone in a quiet ditch, and the driver is still alive.

This has been traffic.

Alright, so back to my family. Carlos, Esteban, and I live on Ourobourus Road, in the nicest house on our street. We have a backyard where Esteban plays on his jungle gym, and where we can walk our dog, Aubergine. Safa, what is it now? Oh, right. The weather. I guess I have extended the broadcast a little bit too much. Well, Vermillion Falls, let's go to the weather.

Welcome back, Vermillion Falls.

While we were in the weather, I asked my new intern, Safa, to go over the next few media reports to see if they could just kind of condense them down a little bit for me. I did go a little bit over the time limit, but can you blame me? I haven't talked to you all for years! I really wanted to give you updates about Carlos! Anyway, Safa was reading the reports while they poured themself a glass of water from the sink, but accidentally dropped them in. And when they reached to pick up the soggy papers, Safa's arm sank deep underwater. Much deeper than the half-inch of water pooled into the sink. Their entire body pitched forward, and Safa splashed into the sink. They tried to swim back up, to climb back out of the sink and into Night Vale, but instead, Safa resurfaced in the middle of a lake, in the town of Vermillion Falls!

I know this because Frank just texted our group chat. And according to him, no one who's entered Vermillion Falls through that lake has ever left. It's pretty difficult to find Night Vale, anyways, so it's safe to say that Safa will be there with you guys for a while. Perhaps indefinitely. So, please welcome Safa to your town! I'm sure they'll have a great time. At least, I hope so.

And to the family and loved ones of Intern Safa, they weren't that great of an intern, and they kept interrupting me, but they aren't technically dead, so I can speak as ill of them as I'd like. I'm sure they will call you soon. Just probably from a different time zone.

Alright, back to my broadcast about my husband. That's what this was supposed to be, after all, and I think it's fair enough that I can continue it without any more interruptions. So, settle in, Vermillion Falls! I have a lot to catch you up on. So anyway, Carlos's skin is beautiful and smooth, since he uses an incredible skincare routine made up of two toners and a revitalizing serum, and his cologne...

Broadcast continues for three hours.

#cecil palmer #wtnv #carlos the scientist #this was fun to write hope you guys like it #my fic #welcome to night vale #wtnv spoilers #vermillion falls #frank luna #my fanfic #my writing

[s1utspeare]

Hello beloved followers, I have a little game for you. Saw trap style.

NINE TRUTHS AND A WIL-LIE-AM

On this William Wednesday, let’s play a game!! I will give you ten William Facts. Nine of these Facts are true. One of these Facts is false. It is your job to choose which William Fact is the Wil-Lie. If you succeed! I will send u a delightful William Award to display on your blog (or to ignore. Whichever)

OKAY YOU HAVE UNTIL THE NEXT WILLIAM WEDNESDAY TO CHOOSE YOUR PICK!!! GOOD LUCK 😈😈😈

#happy william saw trap wednesday everypony #william wednesday #i love polls #wait what the fuck u can’t see who voted what??? #well that ruins the surprise of sending people a silly little william image in their inbox when they win :/ #that’s ok I’ll figure something out

[claralouvette]

💖Fall into place Hawks/ Keigo Takami x Reader

Synopsis💞

you escaped from your abusive relationship for the cost of your wings, you try to find new ways to live your life in a new country you tried different jobs and gigs here and there and thankfully you were able to get your life back together. But when you meet a certain someone your life just begins to have a different romantic turn.

❤️Part 2 (cancelled)

❤️Barely proof read (0%)

Masterlist

Taglist: @mysideeffectsofyou

🌺Without your wings you struggle to materialize charm powders from dusts, essentially you needed your wings to convert dust from the surrounding environment creating a very effective charms that can provide various posibilities, without them its was a huge difficulty. Thankfully  you could still create them but not in an amount you used to.

🌺With the help of you parents leave this horrible place they search for a country for you to hide in, they found a perfect country and in no time you are now boarding one ship which is destined to travel on the said country. In such a short time of goodbyes, crying you whispered “until we see each outher again, my dear family.”

🌺Leaving your old life behind, you try to find new ways to improve your life style, and what better way to start that journey on Japan!

🌺From what you heard, Japan is famous for having the most secured protection from any crimes and villains. No wonder your parents chose this country, Japan was the best choice to escape him.

🌺Getting your life together was not easy thankfully there were a lot of different jobs and side gigs that helped you through not the way. On your free time, you became fond of doing knitting/crocheting, book binding and the mighty creative writing. Then later realized that you love the feeling of being able to create scenarios out of pure imagination.

🌺weeks and months have passed by, your life is turning out alright your able to find a stable job as a janitor on a nearby café shop, its just a simple job, have to keep a low profile after all. On your freetime, oh you just love doing anything, you love crocheting scarfts and sweaters, or creating new fanfictions, people online seem to adored about your writings and Fanfiction.

🌺you have to admit you werent pretty confident about your writing skills, but you feel inspired and quite happy doing it. The funs of being able to write things from imaginations, oh how you wish you have a quirk that could help turn Fiction to reality.

🌺A day after, everything was well until your co-worker turned up the tv on the cafe to hear the news. Oh you wished they didn’t do that because you are now filled with fear and dread. It was about a missing person on a specific area…. AND THAT MISSING PERSON IS ABOUT YOU. You froze panicking. 

🌺its no time to panic. Relaxing, keeping your composure confident. ‘ The audacity of this man thinking they could go play innocent, and go looking for me, nice try’ you thought, it was a good thing you don’t have the most recognizable feature  which was your translucent wings. Changing the overall appearance definitely helped too. 

🌺You thought that confidence would stick by? Think again when there is literally guards and a former hero in-front of your door steps.

“U-uh how may I help you?” 

He introduced himself as the former wiged hero: hawks, Inviting the man into your home to ask a few questions. The men went on to interview you about the missing person, you lied your way by saying ‘ oh i barely go outside’ and ‘i havent really seen her around despite working nearby.’ 

Thankfully he bought the lie and you were able to peacefully see the man out of your flat. Wishing to never see any person like him or him ever again. 

🌺Sadly your wishes has not been heard. ‘why??? Why is he here?’ You thought, You were cleaning out the recently used table by the customers, then you saw the familiar man who interviewed you the other day ordering a coffee in the counter seemingly flirting at the barista, until he caught you staring with a mortified face. “Oh, hey there kid, fancy seeing you here!” He said. 

🌺Eventually after the second encounter, he doesn’t want to ever leave you alone. Everyday, he would visit the cafe and have a small chit chat with you, sometimes being caught typing and continuing you fanfic during your breaks and teased you about it. In the end, you ended up warming up to him and see him as your friend. 

You just hope that you made the right decision letting him into your life like that. 

🌺Little did you know to Keigo your just another mission, he was one of the men along side with other heroes assigned to find this missing person from another country. Apparently, she’s the fiancé very rich business man who filed the report. However, he thinks that the man is suspicious and something was odd about the company he was running too. He needed to know who was in the right and the wrong. 

🌺he wanted to investigate, to know why would you leave your fiancé, did you guys fight? Did some drama happen? this is why he is not interested in a love life its too much of a headache. He just needed to earn your trust and finish this investigation already. When he got closer to you thats when he learned about your story.

🌺it didnt take long to earn your trust, not long after he is hanging out on your flat. Not being aware he actually enjoyed hanging out with you. One time he was driving back to his agency then he caught a glimpse of a flower on a shop and immediately hit the breaks. Looking at the flower reminds him of you. He was about to buy it but stopped. Reminding himself that you are a just mission that needed to be investigated. 

🌺He felt bad, so bad. You invited him to share an afternoon tea with you, you told him that it was a tradition back in your hometown that if you invite someone to drink a tea with you it means you trust them for friendship. He felt glad, but felt so guilty because a day before that, he stole this one book on your shelf that you book bind yourself and told him not to touch it. 

Still feeling guilty, sitting in the middle of his office, in-front of him was the book that you told him not to touch and look 👀. ‘This is for the investigation’ he thought and opens it. 

🌺it has been weeks since the last time you’ve seen your friend. It might have caused you to worry about him. Until you heard a knock on your door. When you opened it, it revealed keigo, with a sad look. 

🌺He opens up to you, he opened up to you about everything. The book he read, the book you made, based from his investigation of you, it was you story. Everything is fall into place, he wanted to protect you, your not just some mission to him anymore. He learned about how the men you used loved manipulated you, clipped your wings, forced you into making dust for the company to be succesful.  

🌺When he told you everything, honestly you saw this coming, your not stupid, you knew he would use you for information but it was your decision to let him be. You trust him that he wont turn you in, you know deep down he is a good guy. You made some research about him too yunno. 

🌺keigo expected you to cry, to be angry at him for doing what he did, but you didn’t, you just smiled. You let him in your flat and hugged him in between your chest, its a bit awkward that caused keigo to blush but it felt so right. You thanked him for telling the truth. “You could’ve just asked me” you said, giving him a small bottle with a dark blue dust he asked you what it is, you told him to pour the dust into the book, and he did, seconds after he was seeing everything that was written on the book, seeing what you’ve been through.

🌺After he finished you asked him “what now?” He told you that he will tell endeavor about his new found data, and that he will never hand you over and protect you.

🌺After that he started visiting you day by day, updating you about the missions and what they have gathered, from a missing person report turned into a full blown crime investigation. Hours have passed you guys have finished hanging out and before Keigo left, he for some reason gave you some stones saying that ‘it reminded me of you’ then flew off hiding the blush on his face.

🌺In return of his weird gifts, you created 2 dust mixing it together on a small necklace jar. Presenting it to him, you explained that this necklace has special features on it, for one it give you good luck. “This necklace give you good luck so your missions and investigation will have a bountiful outcome!” You explained. You also tell him that you mixed a dreaming dust so that after a tiring day he will be able to have a good rest and dreams. 

🌺keigo knew the condition of your quirk, he was actually touched that he could kiss you right now. But, despite that he told you “you didn’t have to do this, i know how difficult it is to use your quirk now.” But you wanted to, and you hugged him and he hugged you back so gently and lovingly. 

🌺its a peaceful day, you were just knitting while keigo is reading some of your fanfic on your thighs, you guys became very touchy with one another despite being friends. Or so you thought keigo here is actually planning to date you fufufu. When you told him that some of your romantic fiction are based from your cringy desired relationship goals, he was like “I don’t care how cringe are they, let. Me .read them.” You jut though he likes romance and all. 

Everything was peaceful until a phone call disturbed both of your moment bringing some horrible news.

🌺it really was a horrible news your ex, your captor is in the country. You could just keep calm, you cant think striaght, you were hyper ventilating, keigo kept on calling out to you but you cant seem to hear him so he hugged you and whispering that you’ll be fine. 

🌺the man looking for you was in rage, but thankfully you have people on your side that can pull out the uno reverse card. Keigo found and gathered every evidence he needed for the man to be in jail. An evidence of selling drugs, illegal weapons, and human trafficking. Thanks to your good luck charm keigo sees how important it is to keep you safe. 

🌺A year have passed, and your life has never been better. You became a novelist thanks to keigo motivating you, and met new friends mainly they were keigo’s friends and some students at UA high.  

🌺Meanwhile keigo is having a cold feet, he’s been meaning to confess to you, his heart is longing for you, he feels like a highschool fanboy being a hopeless romantic, whining whenever his idea of confessing to you is cliché. Then just a second which felt like being hit by a wall of bricks, he thought of a perfect gift for you.  He went to his computer, search something, then went on to dial something on the his phone. 

Author's note: I admit this was horribly written, I barely have any time because of college and also I'm very rusty. I'm sorry if this has a messy plot line.

#hawks x reader #bnha hawks #hawks x y/n #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #pro hero hawks #hawks fanfiction #wing hero hawks #mha hawks #hawks x you #keigo takami x y/n #keigo takami #keigo x y/n #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo fluff #hawks bnha #mha hawks x reader

[yuuniee]

“Oh dear, it seems you’ve met with such a terrible fate... Would you like me to help you out?”

[x]

Name: Sebastian Dubois

Japanese: セバスチャン・デュボア (sebasuchan dyuboa)

Dorm: Pomefiore 👑

Birthday: 24th November

Age: ???

Height: 182 cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: City of Flowers

Family: Unnamed mother, unnamed father

Voiced by: Daisuke Ono

Nicknames/Aliases: Monsieur Ten-face (Rook), Anglerfish/Ankou-senpai (Floyd)

Grade: Third

Class: 3-C (no. 08)

Club: Movie Appreciation Club

Best Subject: Ancient Curses

Hobby: Crocheting

Favorite Food: Creme brulee

Least Favorite Food: Escargot

Pet Peeves: Failure

Talent: Identifying gems

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Appearence: Sebastian is a young man with curly black hair that’s divided right in the middle, green eyes, fair skin, and slightly toned body.

In his school uniform, he wears the standard Night Raven College uniform; white shirt, violet vest and pants with gold stripes facing out on each leg. Except, he wears his black jacket on his shoulders like Lilia and he wears black pointed shoes with his white socks visible. He also wears a golden armwatch on his right wrist.

In his dorm uniform, he wears the standard Pomefiore uniform with violet eyeshadow.

Personality: He is outwardly a generous, polite and caring gentleman that always smiles and dotes on everyone in a loving manner. Yet he also seems to bear a cruel and sadistic nature that shows at certain times...

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Unique Magic: “Hourglass Effect”

It allows him to control time for a limited amount in a small area. He can also use it on himself, someone else or an inanimate object. However, it takes a lot of concentration and energy to use, so he can’t use it for too long or else he may accumulate blot and it may lead to overblotting.

[x]

P.S: This is actually him without his coat, vest and jacket, and also I had to put sneakers since the picrew didn’t have these options that I put on his appearence... I know it’s free to edit, I just chose not to!

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

🥀 Fun Facts:

Everywhere he goes, he carries a pocket mirror. When asked, he’ll just say to fix his uniform or makeup because he wants to be flawless at all times.

When MC and Grim first meet him, he introduces himself as a staff member. Later, Rook tells them that he is actually a third year student but he’s told the same joke to everyone else.

In his Dorm Uniform story, he mentions his grandmother used to bake pies at Mondays and it would smell delicious. That was why he had tried to bake one himself to keep a tradition going.

Strangely, Lilia seems to know him a bit too well... He even warns MC and their friends about him and tells them to stay away from him. When he hears that, he comes out and says, “That fae sure knows how to lie about someone. I was only intending to befriend you all as my precious juniors!”

From canon cast, he seems to bear hatred for certain people like Vil, Silver, Azul and Epel... Though he doesn’t show it on the outside, you can see his eye slightly twitching.

Sometimes, at night, he may go on a midnight stroll in his dorm as to clear his mind.

[More facts are yet to come!]

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #pomefiore oc #sebastian dubois

[moongothic]

Hey remember when this used to be a DIY blog Me neither

Blanket! Gifting this to my aunt this Crimbus. Whee

Made with some Léttlopi yarn.

My mom had this unfinished knitted sweater (...I think it was supposed to be a sweater...) in the purple maroon and between me not knowing how to finish it (there were some wonky ass cables in it and the torso was not completed) and knowing full well I don't even like this color... I chose to frog the thing to repurpose the yarn.

Like it felt a little bad to do, but if I didn't do that then I was going to throw out the project entirely, because there was nothing else I'd do with it, and I'm not gonna waste perfectly good yarn man

And hey, this was a good amount of yarn (I know I did weight how much yarn this actually was but I can't remember for the life of me anymore, sorry) (Just believe me when I say that ball was heavy as fuck)

Not enough for a whole blanket but definitely a good start. I bought like 18 more balls of yarn (white and more of the purple maroon, though more white since I already had a ton of the poiple mawoon), and eventually got to working

Not gonna lie though, working with Léttlopi kinda sucks. Like it is a good quality 100% wool yarn (and it's not superwashed with plastic, amazing, love that), it's just that the yarn is so scratchy it was kind of painful to work with. Like to the point even the blanket was kind of unpleasant to touch because of the fibers sticking out

Thankfully the yarn softened A TON when I washed and blocked the blanket, kinda wish I had tried softening the yarn before even working with it but ehhhh it be like that, and I'm sure it'll soften even more with additional washes (but that's up to my aunt to deal with lmao)

But yeah, it sure is a blanket.

I've done so many granny square blankets by this point I thought it'd be fun to do a different type of crochet blanket, especially one where I wouldn't have to sew the damn thing together at the end for once. And it was fun, would do that again

My only regret was making the stripes of the blanket a bit too thin. There's two rows of granny clusters with a row of single crochet between them (just to add a bit more bulk to the rows). But, in hindsight, I wish I had done four granny cluster rows for each stripe, IDK I think thicker stripes would have looked better. But, it is what it is, just a good reminder for myself if I ever make another blanket like this (for myself) (in different colors)

#Moon posting #Yarncraft Diary #Yarnblr #Crochetblr #Fun fact I finished this blanket months ago and I just could not be bothered to take a photo of it #I did take a photo of it at one point but the lighting was so bad I figured I should retake the photo #And I couldn't be bothered. Until today. Because I needed to wrap this Crimbus Present for Crimbus #Y'know #I am so sorry to the people who followed me for crochet content 6+ months ago the anime brainrot has been unreal

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Thursday, February 22

Giles: Welcome home, Buffy. Buffy: I got in a few hours ago, but I wanted to go see my mom first. Giles: Yes. Yes, of course. How, how did you find her? Buffy: Well, I pretty much remembered the address.

~~Dead Man's Party~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Do We Have A Deal? (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by veronyxk84

For Eternity (Buffy/Angel, G) by Pinkperson

Debrief (Lindsey/Lilah, M) by TheClowniestLivInExistence

Worship the Rain (Angel/Cordelia, M) by MyCosmicAlice

Side Effects (OC, E) by Novel_Ningan

An Itch She Can't Scratch (Buffy/Spike, T) by EllieRose101

Closeted (Buffy/Cordelia, T) by LittleRaven

Back In Town, Punks (Buffy/Faith, T) by Val_Creative

o zi normala (Giles/Jenny, G) by CoraClavia

Staked (Buffy/Spike, E) by SirenOfTitan

something old and borrowed (Buffy/Spike, E) by cheju

[Chaptered Fiction]

Forgiveness Doesn't Come Easy, Chapter 23 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Slaymesoftly

My Person, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Faith, E) by Moonkid10

Greatest Love Story Postlude, Chapter 3 (Angel/Spike, M) by FalseGinger

Same Coin, Chapter 1 (Buffy, OC, G) by The_Eclectic_Bookworm

A Little Poet in Her Monster, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Desicat

A Vampie and a Slayer Walk Into a Park..., Chapter 16 (Buffy/Spike, AO) by holetoledo

A Breath is But a Soundless Whisper, Chapter 24 (Buffy/Spike, 18+) by Blackoberst

What the Drabble?, Chapter 87 (Buffy/Spike, R) by VeroNyxK84

The Day After, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, G) by Maldorana

Love Lives Here, Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

I Do!, Chapter (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Dusty

Coming Through, Chapter 41 (Buffy/Spike, AO) by hulettwyo

Oblivious, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by hulettwyo

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:Spike painting! by be_ts

Comic: by

Artwork:Power couple powering. by isevery0nehereverystoned

Artwork:[Spuffy stained glass] by thegothicalice

Artwork:[Spike] by murkycrush

Gifset:"But I will always look after you, Mother. This I promise." by justafriendofxanders

Gifset:[Sprusilla] by justafriendofxanders

Gifset:5x01 Buffy vs. Dracula by peeta-mellark

Gifset:2x22 | “Becoming Pt. 2” by clarkgriffon

Gifset:"Life was staring to get so good again, and you're a big part of that." by lovebvffys

Gifset:S7E14: First Date by spuffygifs

Video: Recreating Willow’s Bag | Crochet Tutorial by Purple Mango

Video: buffy & angel | bones by lostlcve

[Reviews & Recaps]

Lie To Me by Revolutionary_Key325

Praise for 4x17 Inside Out by evolutionleftovers

Love for the final scene in Beneath You by Kardnival

Vengeance (Selfless and Supersymmetry) by Fancy-Fate

[Buffy Novels: The Deathless] by deep-aural-fixation

[Welcome to the Hellmouth review] by inconsistentlywrittensoul

Review - The Harvest by Nathan Thackeray

Buffy-bot the Vampire Slayer 6x1 "Bargaining Part 1" | Normies Group Reaction! by The Normies

"What's My Line Part One" REACTION | Buffy The Vampire Slayer FIRST TIME Watching 2x9 (Commentary) by Tyler Alexander

Once More, with Feeling: Buffy The Vampire Slayer 6x07 Reaction PART ONE by Dakara

Once More, with Feeling: Buffy The Vampire Slayer 6x07 Reaction PART TWO by Dakara

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER - S6 EP 18 ENTROPY (2002) REACTION VIDEO AND REVIEW! FIRST TIME WATCHING! by Reel Reviews With Jen!

The Re-Watcher's Council #12: "Prophecy Girl" Buffy S01E12 Spoiler Review by LGRN - Entertainment

Podcast: And With Your Seat Belt - Angel S05E19 - Time Bomb by Pop Culture Role Call

[Community Announcements]

James Marsters & Charisma Carpenter's Lexington Comic & Toy Con 2024 Schedule by DontKillSpike

Thursday Tags by Comment Fic

[Fandom Discussions]

re: Helpless by breezybeej

[Scoobies as part of Buffy] by yesitsterriblysimple

Slayers Cancelled by multiple authors

Orpheus and the shopkeeper by multiple authors

Was Anya treated as disposable and just a Xander sidekick? by multiple authors

Observation Goulash by multiple authors

Does anyone else have a collection of real world items that appeared on the show? by multiple authors

Top 3 moments you wish you could give a character a comforting hug? by multiple authors

What Buffy quotes make you feel powerful and like you can do anything? by multiple authors

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Publication: Huge Buffy The Vampire Slayer Questions Won't Be Answered Now (& It's Very Disappointing) via ScreenRant

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Join the editor team :)

#btvs

[iworshipsappho]

c!tommy for the headcanon ask game :DDD

🧸👻🎭🥇📚💔👽😶😭

(you dont have to answer all/more than one of them, idc I´m just really curious lol)

OOOOH this is gonna be funnnn >:333 strap right in!!!

🧸 A headcanon about their childhood mmm so ykn choomy was just 9 during the whole first war right? well uh imma take his childhood to be before everything went down. He was a summer child, bright vibes, all toothy grins and scraped up muddy knees. c!wilbur was a damn worrier, every time he saw c!toms all bloodied up mans would get anxious as fuck despite the obvious joy on tommy's face. and so when will wud bandage tommy up, tommy too would take a couple bandaids and stick them all over will's face and colour them in. so like when they're done wilbur wud just be a mess of awkwardly stuck bandaids covering his face while tommy would be haphazardly patched up :')

👻 A headcanon about what scares them mmm well, we all know about the tnt. im not too sure if the phantoms are canon or not, but to me ctoms is definitely terrified of them. and dont even get me started on bodies of water. both remind him of sleepless nights during exile and just utter helplesssness. im sure we all remember him waking up drowing every single fucking day. so yeah...

🎭 A headcanon about what they lie about oooh he's such a fucking liar man. he lies about almost everything, but not in a ooh im a teenage boy who's an idiot way. he just doesnt think that anyone would actually be interested in what he has to say. the only person he didnt lie to after exile was revivedbur, even with tubbo sometimes he wouldnt know whether or not to tell him how fucked up he actually was and wud lie that he was fine all the fucking time. another person he never lied to was probably cjack, he just didnt care what jack thought of him. oh he also probably lied about all the times shroud inadvertently hurt him, to chommy thats just how the spider shows affection and acknowledgement

🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at he's the bestest boy ever. period. uhhh but liek if i had to specify smth uhhh my boy loves to crochet and he's ace at it. i personally dunno much about crochet but like i know we as a fandom widely headcanon the blue sweater knitting thing but like, imagine crocheting man. he'd just go full brrrr mode with it. like, someone wants smth? boom he fucking crochets it for them, in my mind, c!beeduo have a bunch of crocheted alliums that chommy made. (alliumduo my beloved, id give my life for them)

💔 An angsty headcanon ooofff my boy is the embodiment of angst man ffffffff. mmm so ykn how ctom's limbo was just utter darkness? well what if it wasnt. what it instead of darkness, he had every single "mistake" he ever made replayed over and over like a dream sequence? what id he spent months just unable to escape from visions of his life on the dsmp. the community house, cgeorge's house, the foirstever time lmanberg blew up, nov 16th, doomsday, techno killing tubo, etc etc. all things that tommy think he couldve stopped, all the things he blames himself for. what if his limbo was both complete isolation, but being hounded by his past. what if

👽 A headcanon about a weird quirk of there mmmm c!tommy with braids my belovedddddd. i do it, so he does it to. whenever he gets anxious or fidgety, he just plucks out the front few strands of his hair and just starts teisting or braiding them. over and over, undoing and doing htem again, just to keep himself grounded and his hands occupied. he also adresses every bee he meets as if htey're ctubbo's messenger, calling them a big man and trying to leash them. oh and when he picks flowers, he comes up with whole backstories for each one :333

😶 A random headcanon! oooh he was sooooo a loom band kid man istg. he would be obsessed with them!!!!! like henry's horns would be completely covered in like absurdly coloured sets of loom band bracelets even his own hands would be coveredddddd in them up till his elbows. at least. and like he even managed to drag ranboo into it and to tubbo's absolute chagrine they both would just sit for hours on end making bracelts. c!techno was also roped into it during exile, and phil would just look at them amused. ooooh if only c!phil had a camera, he would have soooooo many pictures of techno's supposedly "deadly" base littered with torn pieces of loom bands

💜

#ooh this was so fun i love thinking about chommy!!!!!!! :DDDDD #asks. #ask game #idcwhatmyusernameisblorp #tommyinnit #c!tommyinnit #c!tommy #dsmp #dsmp headcanon #c!tommy hc #methinks mesays. #holy fuck just realised this has just been sitting in my drafts ogmggg

[piscesline]

[Verse 1]

If the crocheted flowers you gave come alive,

Will they speak of your love?,

"My love's vocal but you're imprisoned in a sound proof room",

If the oceans are made of my sob,

will you swim in it?,

"I'll gladly drown and embrace death",

[Chorus]

The words you said traveled through my head,

we ended arguments with a face of mourning,

We're lovers in the same room but look more like strangers,

different group of friends and ways of beguiling,

and if the crocheted flowers you gave come alive,

will they speak of your love?,

they won't but I will,

I did,

you're blind folded by your desires to see,

[Verse 2]

They didn't warn me we'd get here too soon,

the voices in my head,

love and hurt reciprocated,

it's time to walk away they said,

but to walk away is to abandon our promises,

the fostered hatred killed hesitations,

[Verse 3]

three months past our love you told me,

"The doves we raised, slowly was devoured by our sins",

what is agony, if not our love?,

it's unfathomable how you treat it as a piece of cake to speak the words ,

"love only visits me when you're at my porch",

but after you walked away,

did you achieved freedom?,

[Chorus]

Was I not worth the risk of love?,

we ended arguments with a face of mourning,

A crowded room but my ears was captivated by your voice on cuff,

different group of friends and ways of beguiling,

and if the crocheted flowers you gave come alive,

will they speak of your love?,

they won't but I will,

I did,

you're blind folded by your desires and sin,

[Verse 4]

I spent every last bit of my love to you,

but it didn't cure your hunger,

you're asking for more,

but I'm too embarrassed and ashamed to tell you that's all I've got,

now nothing's left for me,

but my dreams of you,

[Verse 5]

you starved me,

but said I was asking for too much,

I was exhausted after 3 months of carrying the weight of us,

we're sleeping on the same mattress but the wrinkles on your side of the bed is missing,

your hair buzzed cut,

did I heard gunshots?,

[Chorus]

My love unheard like my prayers,

ended conversations with a face of mourning,

We're once was lovers in the same room but now are strangers,

Our group of friends said its time for grieving,

and if the crocheted flowers you gave come alive,

will they speak of your lies?,

I never lied,

I've spoken every word,

but you're living in a sound proof room,

[Bridge]

When your lips painted me your love,

was that true or were you a deceiver?

When your hands graced, ventured, and draw on my body,

was the lie on it the shiver?,

Are the stolen and exchanged glances,

just a rumor that gone around?,

Will the crocheted flowers come alive

and tell me you're just asleep and sound?,

My lips were not a deceiver,

it simply died from the lack of your contact,

I'd never lie to your feather like skin,

I was just abandoned with our sins,

my hands was once blessed by a saint,

now I'm at the wake of our love, restrained,

I am wide awake,

yet dreaming of the man you'd be in cloud nine with,

[Outro]

If my blood is the medicine to your cure,

I'll gladly cut my throat for you,

"Always on my pit of death",

"never on the moment I'm still breathing",

"I wasn't worth saving",

You are,

I wasn't fit for a savior,

Date: May 3rd 2024

Author: Avalon/piscesline

Dedication:

This piece of poetry lives inside the heart of two individuals who's love discontinued by a reason only them are aware. The past lovers are having the conversation they never had. This is to the dearest friend of mine, your story of love inspired me.

#brokenhearted #sadsong #brokenheart #lyrics #croocheted flowers #avalon #local artist #lyricist #song lyrics #song writing #poetry #wwriter #painful love #betrayal #liar #relationship #diary #songwriter #dyinglove #love quotes #quotes #love

[obsoleteozymandias]

I’ve seen this a few times while perusing the Stardew tag and thought it seemed fun! As such, I’m looking for a Stardew Valley match-up, if you will; I’ve no preference for the gender of the match up (bisexual nation RISE UP!!!)

I go by He/Him pronouns. I’m a chubby/stocky man who often jokes about being the “tallest man on earth” (complete lie) (But maybe I am telling the truth… you’ll never know). I am autistic and I suffer from and am medicated for depression and anxiety. Other illnesses, such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, also run in my family, but I had never been professionally diagnosed with them. I have a debilitating phobia of dolls and some mannequins and puppets, to the point of nausea. I have chronic migraines.

I’m EXTREMELY heat intolerant, often times getting horribly ill when I do overheat. I take measures to make sure my room is always cool, and I even have some cool packs I rely on in the summer months.

According to MBTI (is that the right order for the abbreviation?) I’m an INFP. My big three astrological alignments are Pisces sun, Sagittarius moon, Taurus rising; however, my friends who are FAR more into astrology than I am say I seem more like an Aries sun (which is interesting, since I was born a week early— I would have actually been an Aries if I had been born on my actual due date).

I have only a few hobbies as of right now (video games, listening to music, and writing), but I have an abundance of new hobbies I would love to (and plan on!) getting into in the future (a couple include crocheting/knitting, building my own PC, and working/building with wood). I have a lot of struggles with reading, to a degree that makes me feel insecure a lot of the time; I worry it negatively effects my ability and love of writing, and it admittedly can feel a bit alienating at times when people I’m close with talk about the joy they get from reading.

I’m a BIG collector, to the point I don’t really consider it a hobby as much as I do a general part of my life; primarily, I collect stuffed animals! I sleep with a Snoopy Build a Bear every night, and get anxious when I don’t have him in my arms at night. I also usually bring a stuffed animal with me whenever I go out, since it helps me combat anxiety, and I just like holding something in my arms. I also enjoy collecting animal figurines, select Funko figurines (not limited to just Pops, and also only of media I already enjoy), as they don’t trigger my phobia in ways some figures do. I’m an out of box collector, and none of my stuffed is in “mint” condition— I collect for myself, first and foremost, and for the future generation second; everything is well loved, and will continue to be loved.

I’ve become a big “write that down” type of person as I’ve gotten older. I strive to be the guy people come to for notes for a video game they play, or perhaps for recipes that I wrote down even though I’d never make it myself since I’m a very picky eater.

As a kid, and even now, I dreamed of being an oceanographer; I love the ocean dearly, and I always will. I grew up playing the Endless Ocean games on Wii (side note: very excited for Luminous to come out!!!), which was the source of all my love and interest in the ocean. I love learning things I didn’t know about the ocean before, and love sharing my knowledge even more. I may not be able to drive a car, but I’d love to one day be able to have a boating license!

I’m a big animal guy!!! I grew up surrounded by animals all my life, and I’m a firm believer that a home isn’t a home without having an animal around that you can take care of, whether it be a dog, cat, turtle, or otherwise.

I have a moderate fear of going down stairs, as I can’t do it correctly (going down them one step at a time, body often veering off to the side and pressed up against the banister; no, I have no idea why I do this) and have fallen down them quite a few times. Luckily, I’ve never been seriously injured.

Cars also moderately scare me. I don’t like the idea of being in a fast moving box. This often causes embarrassing social blunders, because I reach up for the car handle when I get anxious. I promise it’s not because you’re bad at driving, driver!!!

I can make near-perfect imitations of select animal noises; I’m partial to my quacking noise, as it’s become something of a vocal stim for me. I can also bark and “purr”.

I hate lenticular lining (the thing that makes those images on bookmarks move or seem 3D)— the feeling and the sound it makes when you scratch it makes me feel sick!

I’m often described as an “old soul” by people in my life who are far more spiritual than I am. I don’t exactly know what that means, if I’m honest, but I know it’s a compliment and it makes me feel nice and warm inside when I am describes as such.

I’m allergic to cherries.

My biggest goal in life is to be the fun, supportive uncle/cousin if any of my friends or family ever have kids. I don’t foresee myself ever wanting kids, but I know that any children that would be introduced into my life would be loved and cherished by me. I’d love to sit and watch cartoons with them, or play games. I’d love to introduce them to the shows that I personally grew up watching, because I don’t find it fair for those shows to go overlooked and forgotten. They may already know Josh, but I want them to know Steve and Joe too. (And NO Cocomelon!!! That’d be my only rule).

Thanks for the surplus of info (/gen), it really helps me when writing. I ALWAYS prefer excess info to lack thereof. 

== Stardew Valley ==>

I match you up with…

Emily

Emily is exactly the kind of person who you’d want to know. She’s an oddball and may be a bit hard to understand at times, but she’s honest about herself and her hobbies, and will never judge you for yours. 

She won’t judge your fears either! I headcanon that while she is accepting of most everything, she has a few strange ones of her own. She’s open to exploring and expanding both of your horizons together, whether that means overcoming fears or just letting them be. 

She admires your unique tastes and personality first and foremost. She knows it can be difficult to connect with others who judge your tastes and likes, so she’s especially drawn to you and your energy. 

She also loves your love for animals and the ocean. I can imagine you two going on boat rides for dates, looking at the ridges and bumps on the ocean floor. 

Then, you go to Ginger Island and look at the local fauna and watch the sunset as the parrots fly across the sunset. She’s never been more content in her life. 

If ever you wanted to propose, that would be the time. 

And of course, she’d say yes. She’s never had someone understand her and connect with her like you do, and she can’t wait to spend the rest of her life with you. 

I imagine she’d join you on your fun supportive uncle idea. When your siblings or Haley have kids, the two of you spend tons of time running around with them on the farm or teaching them about animals.

#oz’s requests #stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley matchup #emily stardew valley #Emily stardew x reader

[ricesoupremacy]

elaboration on the "not aro" part:

i met a girl. she's an eleventh grader. we started talking last year in june. in november, stuff started getting um. romantic. i think. there were a lot of hugs in november. december beginning we started to sneak away during event stuff to be alone. we knew something was up between us, but we didn't talk about it, just went with the flow. after vacations started, we confessed to each other at around 2 am in end december. she is so fucking beautiful and nice and adorable and she's an artist right? she made me a portrait 😭 it's not a replica of me but she tried to do the features but good god. i love her so so much. she crochets. she crocheted me a pink heart. her hugs are so damn comfy. i'm probably embarrassing myself but man i could pine forever.

so yes. yours truly is in love. and god it feels awesome.

off topic but the first line reminded me of bad girls club by falling in reverse omgs SNEAKING AWAY FOR ALONE TIME IS PEAK ROMANTIC BEHAVIOUR I'M SO PROUD OF YOU 2 AM ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WHY AM I NOT LIVING A LIFE LIKE THIS WHY IS BEING GAY SO HARD DID YOU DO THE 3RD DECEMBER SWEATER THINGY I JUST FOUND OUT IT'S A THING in 2023 I'M LIVING UNDER A ROCK pardon the caps fuck it THE CAPS ARE BACK SHE MADE YOU A PORTRAIT?? SHE MADE YOU A- *screams* nah she CROCHETS TOO??? bye i need like 2 weeks of bed rest to recover nawww what do you mean embarrassing yourself i've said way worse to you. this is so cute i'm so happy for you hshjsjhsjsk can you adopt me please

INSANE i'm not gonna lie it is a good feeling when they love you back. wow. raag this is incredible. if i'm not wrong this has been a great year for you, what with finding love and being sports captain and winning races ooff they grow up so fast 🥹

and since uh. you shared. i mean it's not transactional or anything i really wanted to tell you but you were busy i guess and oh you'll be having boards rn i hope that's going well !! but. ALSO. YA BOI PULLED. I PULLED. FINALLY. BAHAHJAHAJA I SCORED A GUY FASTER THAN HE SCORES BASKETS HE'S SO PERFECT I LOVE HIM HE'S BEEN GIVING ME CHOCOLATE FOR A WEEK NOW BECAUSE APPARENTLY THERE'S SOMETHING CALLED VALENTINE'S WEEK. fuck. i finally understand what aristotle from the book meant when he said he was afraid of dante. i'm afraid of him. i'm afraid of how he makes my brain short-circuit when i'm with him and how we make the same stupidly corny jokes and pickup lines and how he chooses to not go home by bus and instead walks extra to the public bus stop just so he can wALK HOME WITH ME and gets all shy when he asks if we can hold hands and how he gets this look when random uncles on the road see us so i flip them off because i'm not afraid of shit anymore and how he laughs when i say some stupid shit and how he sends me recordings of him playing guitar and singing songs and by GOD his voice is beautiful and he's beautiful. he's beautiful. god.

#i really feel like i can do anything #like cmon #i broke a guy's nose in a fight #why should i hold back from doing dumb stuff and being happy anymore #i'm tired of that #about damn time i got a boyfriend i'm not going to overthink like i usually do #i took the plunge raag #i took the plunge by confessing and it worked out #so #i guess that's good #yey #are you proud #raag best beloved