#the brainrot is indeed strong | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pin-k-ink · 2 months

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Chrollo! There isn’t enough dark content about him. I want to see how Chrollo is, compared to Yandere Chrollo. I love both, but we don’t get enough dark content of Chrollo.

Chrollo is seen as manipulative, and cold. Considering he’s a mass murder, and his empathy is nonexistent to people outside of the phantom troupe. Though, he’s able to act like a gentleman, and a curious man who seems sweet. He definitely isn’t stable, but catching his attention would be terrifying. He collects what he’s interested in. Being in a relationship with him would be interesting, but complicated.

entropy // chrollo lucilfer

tw ⇢ emotional abuse/manipulation, psychological trauma, toxic relationship, mention of self-harm, suicide attempt, dub-con, non-consensual/coercion, stockholm syndrome(?), mention of violence and criminal activities, power play, some unspecified mental health issues, rough sex, cunnilingus, begging, idk kinda rushed ending, narrator’s pov

wc ⇢ 7.1k

a/n: i really liked this idea, anon, so i present you with 7k words of chrollo brainrot. i really tried not to make chrollo a cliche, run-of-the-mill yandere but im not sure i did a good job. its also my first time using y/n and i hated it

The dim lights of the crowded bar cast an amber glow across the room, the air thick with the hum of conversation and clinking glasses. Perched on a stool at the far end of the bar, I nursed my whiskey, the smooth glass cool against my palm, the rich amber liquid swirling hypnotically as I lifted it to my lips. The first sip burned pleasantly down my throat, warming me from within as my eyes scanned the crowd out of habit, taking in the sea of unfamiliar faces.

That's when I saw him.

He moved with a fluid grace that stood out amidst the tipsy stumbles and raucous laughter of the other patrons. Dark hair fell across his face in an artful sweep as he leaned in close to whisper something to the bartender, who nodded knowingly and slid a drink across the polished wood, the crystal tumbler gleaming under the soft light. As if sensing the weight of my gaze, he turned slowly, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat, my fingers tightening reflexively around my glass.

A polite smile curved his lips as he approached with measured steps, sliding onto the stool next to mine with a nod of acknowledgment. "Good evening," he said, his voice smooth and cultured, with a faint lilt of an accent I couldn't quite place. "I hope you'll forgive my forwardness, but I couldn't help noticing you from across the room."

I felt a flush creep up my neck at his directness, a heat blooming under my skin that had little to do with the whiskey. But I maintained my composure, lifting one eyebrow in a practiced arch. "Is that so?" I asked, taking another sip of my drink, letting the smoky flavor linger on my tongue. My heart fluttered in my chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness at the attention from this intriguing stranger.

"Indeed. It's rare to find someone so comfortable in their own solitude. It speaks to a certain strength of character." His eyes held mine, dark and fathomless, seeming to search for something beneath the surface, beneath the mask of cool indifference I wore like armor.

I smiled slightly, intrigued by his observation, by the way he seemed to see beyond the carefully constructed facade. "And what would you know about my character?"

"Very little, I admit. But I'd like to learn more, if you're willing." He extended a hand, long fingers elegant and strong. "Chrollo Lucilfer, at your service."

"Y/N," I replied, placing my hand in his. His grip was firm, his skin cool and smooth against my own. A shiver raced down my spine at the contact, a spark of something electric and unfamiliar. I found myself drawn to his enigmatic aura, the hint of danger that lurked beneath his charming exterior.

As the evening wore on, Chrollo and I fell into easy conversation, trading stories and opinions over drinks, our knees brushing under the bar in a way that felt both accidental and deliberate. He was articulate and well-read, with a keen insight that made me feel like he could see straight into my soul, past the walls I'd so carefully constructed. There was a magnetism to him, a pull that I couldn't resist, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I felt a connection growing between us, a sense of understanding and shared secrets that left me both thrilled and unnerved.

We began seeing each other regularly after that night, meeting for dinner at quiet candlelit restaurants or for coffee in cozy bookshops, the rich scent of roasted beans and old pages enveloping us as we talked for hours. Chrollo was always the perfect gentleman, holding doors and pulling out chairs, his manners impeccable, his attentiveness unwavering. But there were moments, fleeting glimpses, where something else seemed to flicker beneath the surface, a darkness that both thrilled and unsettled me. I found myself drawn to that darkness, to the mystery that surrounded him, even as a part of me whispered warnings in the back of my mind.

One evening, we were walking through the city, the pavement damp with recent rain, the neon signs reflecting in puddles at our feet. A man stumbled out of an alleyway, clearly drunk and disoriented, his clothes rumpled and stained. He lurched towards us, mumbling incoherently, his breath sour with the stench of alcohol. I tensed, expecting Chrollo to step in and help, to offer the man a steadying hand or a kind word. Instead, he sidestepped the man neatly, his movements fluid and precise, not even sparing him a glance. There was a coldness to the action, a calculated indifference that left me feeling chilled despite the warm summer air. A flicker of unease stirred in my gut, a sense that there was more to Chrollo than met the eye, but I pushed it aside, not wanting to shatter the illusion of the perfect romance.

Another time, we were at a restaurant, a trendy spot with exposed brick walls and industrial light fixtures. The hum of conversation and the clink of silverware against plates filled the air, a pleasant buzz of activity. A commotion broke out at a nearby table, a woman's voice rising in pitch as she gestured wildly at her companion, her face flushed with anger. Chrollo watched the scene unfold with a detached sort of interest, like a scientist observing a particularly fascinating specimen. When I expressed concern, my brow furrowed with worry, he simply shrugged, the movement languid and unconcerned.

"Some people thrive on drama," he said, his tone indifferent, almost bored. "It's best not to get involved."

I tried to brush off the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right, telling myself that no one was perfect, that everyone had their flaws and quirks. Chrollo was attentive and affectionate, showering me with gifts and attention, his touch always gentle, always reverent. It was easy to get lost in the romance of it all, in the heady rush of new love. But even as I surrendered to the warmth of his embrace, to the tender caress of his lips on my skin, a part of me remained wary, a tiny voice whispering doubts in the back of my mind.

But the doubts continued to gather at the edges of my mind, like storm clouds on the horizon, dark and ominous. There were inconsistencies in the stories he told, small details that didn't quite add up, pieces that didn't fit into the puzzle of his past. He was evasive about his work, about his family and his childhood, always changing the subject with a charming smile and a clever turn of phrase when I pressed for more. I tried to ignore the growing sense of unease, the feeling that I was only seeing a carefully crafted facade, a mask that hid the true nature of the man I was falling for.

It all came to a head one night when we were out for a walk, the city streets quiet and still around us. A police car raced by, sirens blaring, red and blue lights flashing against the buildings. Chrollo tensed, his body going rigid beside me, his eyes tracking the vehicle with a sharpness that made me pause, my heart skipping a beat in my chest. There was something in his reaction, a hint of fear or guilt that I had never seen before, and it sent a chill down my spine.

"What is it?" I asked, searching his face for clues, for some hint of the thoughts swirling behind those dark eyes.

He relaxed just as quickly, his expression smoothing into a mask of calm, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Nothing, just lost in thought for a moment."

But I saw it then, in that brief unguarded instant. The hairline fracture in his facade, the glimpse of something raw and real beneath the polished surface. The realization hit me like a freight train, stealing the breath from my lungs - I didn't really know the man I was falling for at all. He was a mystery, a puzzle with missing pieces, and I had no idea what secrets he was hiding behind that charming smile and those fathomless eyes. Fear and doubt coiled in my gut, a sickening sense of dread that I couldn't shake, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that everything was fine.

The doubt became an itch I couldn't scratch, a constant presence at the back of my mind. I found myself watching Chrollo more closely, looking for clues, for any sign that might confirm my growing suspicions. He was as attentive and affectionate as ever, his touch gentle, his words sweet. But there was a guardedness to him now, a sense that he was always holding something back, always keeping a part of himself locked away. It was like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands, always slipping through my fingers just when I thought I had a grasp on the truth.

One evening, we were at his apartment, curled up on the plush leather couch with a movie playing on the large flatscreen TV. The room was dimly lit, the flickering light from the screen casting shadows on the walls. Chrollo's phone buzzed with an incoming message, the screen lighting up on the coffee table. He glanced at it, his expression hardening for a split second, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly before he smoothed it away, reaching for the device with a casual hand. My heart raced in my chest, a sense of foreboding washing over me as I watched him, a part of me desperately wanting to believe that it was nothing, that I was overreacting.

"Everything okay?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Just work," he replied, his thumb swiping across the screen, his eyes scanning the message quickly before he slipped the phone into his pocket. "Nothing to worry about."

But there was a tightness to his smile, a strain around his eyes that belied his easy words. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling me, some secret he was keeping locked away. The doubts gnawed at me, a constant ache in my chest that I couldn't ignore, no matter how much I wanted to lose myself in the fantasy of our perfect love.

As the weeks passed, the distance between us grew, an invisible chasm widening with each passing day. Chrollo would disappear for hours at a time, offering vague explanations about meetings or errands, his tone carefully neutral. He was increasingly evasive about his activities, changing the subject with a practiced ease or deflecting my questions with a charming smile and a clever quip. I felt like I was losing him, like the man I had fallen for was slipping away, replaced by a stranger wearing a familiar face.

I knew I should confront him, demand answers, but a part of me was afraid of what I might uncover. The man I had fallen for, the gentleman with the quick wit and the electrifying touch, felt like a stranger wearing a familiar face, a mask that was starting to crack at the edges. I was torn between the desire to cling to the illusion of our perfect romance and the need to know the truth, to see the man behind the mask, no matter how painful it might be.

The final straw came late one night when I was leaving Chrollo's apartment, my mind whirling with unanswered questions, my heart heavy in my chest. As I stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps, I nearly collided with a man coming from the opposite direction. He was tall and lean, with cold eyes that seemed to look right through me, his face all sharp angles and harsh lines. A shiver of unease ran down my spine, a sense of danger emanating from him like a palpable force.

"Excuse me," I mumbled, trying to sidestep him, my skin prickling with unease.

But he blocked my path, his large frame filling the narrow hallway, his gaze flicking past me to Chrollo's door, a flash of something dark and dangerous in his eyes. "He's expecting me," the man said, his voice flat and emotionless, sending a chill down my spine.

I glanced over my shoulder, but Chrollo had already closed the door, the sound of the lock clicking into place loud in the sudden silence. A wave of dread washed over me as I hurried past the man, my heart pounding in my ears, my hands shaking as I jabbed at the elevator button. Questions swirled in my mind, a growing sense of fear and unease that I couldn't shake, no matter how hard I tried to rationalize it away.

I didn't sleep that night, my mind racing with possibilities, with questions I was afraid to voice aloud. Who was the man in the hallway? What business did he have with Chrollo at such a late hour? The not knowing was almost worse than the truth, my imagination conjuring up all manner of dark scenarios, each more terrible than the last. I tossed and turned, my sheets tangled around me, my heart aching with the growing realization that the man I loved was not who I thought he was.

The paranoia grew like a cancer, spreading through every aspect of my life, tainting every interaction with Chrollo. I found myself watching him constantly, analyzing every word, every gesture, looking for some hint of the truth behind the mask. Every phone call he took, every message he received, every unexplained absence became a clue in a puzzle I was desperate to solve, a mystery I couldn't let go. I was consumed by the need to know, to uncover the secrets he was hiding, even as a part of me feared what I might find.

I started making excuses to drop by his apartment unannounced, hoping to catch him off guard, to glimpse the man behind the facade. But Chrollo was always one step ahead, his mask of charm and civility firmly in place, his explanations smooth and plausible. It was like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands, always slipping through my fingers just when I thought I had a grasp on the truth. I felt like I was losing my mind, like I was trapped in a maze of lies and half-truths, with no way out.

The strain began to take its toll, the constant state of heightened awareness, of second-guessing every moment. I was distracted at work, jumping at every unexpected noise, seeing shadows in every corner. My friends noticed the change, commenting on my withdrawn behavior, the dark circles under my eyes, the way I seemed to be constantly on edge. I brushed off their concerns with a forced smile and a wave of my hand, not wanting to voice the suspicions that consumed my every waking moment.

I started to pull away, to put distance between us, needing time to clear my head, to make sense of the tangled web of lies and half-truths. I made excuses to avoid seeing him, claiming work obligations or family commitments, my voice shaking only slightly as I lied through my teeth. I needed space, needed to step back and look at the situation objectively, without the haze of love and desire clouding my judgment. But even as I tried to distance myself, I found myself drawn back to him, like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the pull of his magnetism.

But Chrollo wouldn't let me go so easily, his presence a constant pull, a magnetic force I couldn't seem to resist. He showed up at my work, at my favorite coffee shop, always with a bouquet of flowers and a contrite smile, his eyes soft and pleading. He promised to be more open, to answer any questions I might have, to lay his secrets bare before me. And for a moment, I wanted to believe him, to fall into the warmth of his embrace and let the world fade away.

I started to dig deeper, to research Chrollo's past, looking for any clue that might explain the inconsistencies, the blank spaces in his history. Late one night, huddled over my laptop with a mug of coffee growing cold beside me, I found it. A news article, buried deep in the archives of a local paper, a few scant paragraphs that made my blood run cold. A string of high-profile thefts, linked to a shadowy group known as the Phantom Troupe, their methods as elusive as their identities. And there, in grainy black and white, a photograph of a man with dark hair and piercing eyes, a face I would know anywhere.

My heart stopped in my chest as I stared at the screen, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place with a sickening clarity. The man I loved, the gentleman with the silver tongue and the devastating smile, was a thief. And not just any thief, but a member of the most notorious criminal organization in the city, a ghost in the shadows, a phantom in the night. I sat back in my chair, my hands shaking as I tried to process the truth, to reconcile the Chrollo I knew with the man in the article.

The reality of my situation crashed over me like a wave, cold and unrelenting. I was in love with a lie, a beautiful fiction wrapped in a tailored suit and a charming smile. The future I had imagined for us, the life I had started to build in my mind, was nothing more than a house of cards, ready to come tumbling down at any moment. I felt like I couldn't breathe, like the walls were closing in around me, trapping me in a nightmare from which there was no escape.

And I had no idea what I was going to do about it.

The truth hung heavy in the air between us, a suffocating presence that filled the room and pressed down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. My heart raced as I confronted Chrollo with the article, my voice trembling with a potent mix of anger, fear, and betrayal. He sat across from me, his posture relaxed, his eyes downcast, his hands resting calmly in his lap. The silence stretched on, broken only by the relentless ticking of the clock on the wall, each second an eternity of agonizing anticipation.

When he finally spoke, his voice was even and measured, devoid of any discernible emotion. "I never intended for you to discover the truth this way," he said, his gaze meeting mine, his dark eyes revealing nothing. "I considered telling you, explaining everything, but I couldn't find the right approach."

Disbelief and heartache surged through me, constricting my throat and stinging my eyes with unshed tears. "Explain what, Chrollo? That our entire relationship has been built on a foundation of lies? That the man I fell in love with is nothing more than a carefully crafted illusion?"

His expression remained impassive, unfazed by my accusation. "The connection between us is genuine, Y/N. My feelings for you, the moments we've shared, none of that was a deception."

A bitter, mirthless laugh escaped my lips, echoing harshly in the oppressive stillness of the room. "But everything else? The thefts, the Phantom Troupe? How can you claim that's not an integral part of who you are?"

Chrollo sighed, a subtle indication of impatience rather than genuine weariness. "It's not that simple. The Troupe is like family to me. We have each other's backs, keep each other safe. What we do isn't solely about financial gain or the adrenaline rush. It's about survival, about carving out a place in a world that's never given us a fair chance."

As I sat there, my mind reeling, a chill crept down my spine, raising goosebumps on my skin. Chrollo's dark eyes bored into mine, a glimmer of something cold and dangerous lurking beneath the surface of his composed exterior. In that moment, the true depth of his detachment became starkly apparent, sending a fresh wave of fear washing over me.

"You need to understand, Y/N," he continued, his voice low and even. "The Phantom Troupe is more than just a gang. It's a way of life. A family bound by blood and loyalty. I've committed heinous acts in the name of that loyalty. Acts that would make your blood run cold."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a trapped bird. "And what about me, Chrollo? Was I just another pawn in your twisted game? Another plaything to be discarded when you grew bored?"

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his features, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "No, Y/N. Never. What I feel for you is the closest thing to genuine emotion I've ever experienced. But I won't deceive you. I am what I am. That's not going to change, not even for you."

With shaking legs, I stood up, my entire body trembling with a mixture of fear, anger, and despair. "I can't do this, Chrollo. I can't be a part of your world. The things you've done...the person you truly are...I can't turn a blind eye to that."

He nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I expected as much. I knew this moment would arrive sooner or later. I merely hoped..." He trailed off, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. "It's irrelevant now."

I took a step back, my mind struggling to process the revelation of Chrollo's true identity. The man I had fallen for, the charming and enigmatic gentleman, was nothing more than a meticulously crafted facade, a mask concealing the cold, ruthless criminal beneath.

"I can't be a part of this, Chrollo," I repeated, my voice quivering with a mixture of fear and resignation. "I can't be with someone who lives a life of crime, who has no regard for the people he hurts."

Chrollo's expression remained inscrutable, his dark eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made my skin crawl. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Y/N. You see, you've become quite an intriguing diversion for me, a delightful puzzle to unravel. And I'm not in the habit of relinquishing things that keep me entertained."

His words, spoken with chilling calm, carried an unmistakable undercurrent of threat that turned my blood to ice in my veins. "What are you saying, Chrollo?"

A smile devoid of warmth or humor tugged at the corners of his mouth. "It's quite simple, really. You have two options. You can choose to stay with me, to accept me for who and what I am, and continue to be a part of my life. Or..." He paused, his gaze hardening. "You can refuse, and face the consequences."

My heart raced, a sickening realization dawning on me as the true nature of my predicament became clear. "And what consequences would those be?"

Chrollo shrugged, the gesture casual and unconcerned. "Death, of course. I can't risk you going to the authorities, exposing me and my associates. If you can't be with me, then you can't be allowed to live."

The words hung in the air between us, a chilling ultimatum that left me feeling trapped and utterly helpless. I searched Chrollo's face for any sign of remorse, any hint of the man I had thought I knew, but found only cold, calculating resolve.

"I...I need time to think," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper, my throat constricted with fear and despair.

Chrollo nodded, his expression impassive. "Of course. Take all the time you need, Y/N. But remember, the clock is ticking. And I'm not a patient man."

With those words, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone, the weight of his ultimatum crushing down on me. I sank to the floor, my legs no longer able to support me, as the full horror of my situation crashed over me in relentless waves.

I was trapped, caught between a love that had turned to ashes and a fate worse than death. And no matter which path I chose, I knew that my life would never be the same again.

I sat there, numb and disbelieving, as Chrollo's words echoed in my mind. Stay with him, or die. The choice was no choice at all, a cruel mockery of free will in the face of his cold ultimatum. With a heavy heart and an overwhelming sense of despair, I realized that I had no other option.

"I'll stay," I whispered, the words bitter on my tongue, tasting of ashes and defeat. "I'll stay with you, Chrollo."

He nodded, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark eyes, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "A wise decision, Y/N. I knew you'd see reason."

But even as I agreed to his terms, a part of me rebelled against the idea of being trapped in this nightmare, of living a life shackled to a man who saw me as nothing more than a possession, a plaything to be discarded when he tired of me.

In the days that followed, I went through the motions of my life, a hollow shell of my former self. I smiled when Chrollo was around, played the role of the dutiful girlfriend, but inside, I was screaming, my soul withering with each passing moment. The weight of my despair pressed down on me, suffocating me slowly, day by day.

I couldn't bear the thought of living like this forever, of being forever bound to a monster who held no love, no true affection for me. In a moment of desperation, I made a decision. If I couldn't escape Chrollo in life, then I would find my freedom in death.

I sat in the bathtub, the steaming water lapping at my skin, providing no comfort to the icy numbness that had settled in my heart. The razor blade rested against my wrist, the metal cool and inviting, a whispered promise of release from the nightmare my life had become. My hand trembled, the weight of my decision bearing down on me, tears streaming down my face and mingling with the bathwater.

But even as I sat there, the razor poised to end my suffering, I couldn't bring myself to do it. My hand shook, the blade biting into my skin, drawing a thin line of crimson, but I couldn't find the strength, the resolve, to finish the job. Sobs wracked my body, my chest heaving with the force of my anguish, as I sat there, paralyzed by fear and despair.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

My head snapped up, my heart leaping into my throat at the sound of Chrollo's voice. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a look of detached amusement on his face, as if he'd stumbled upon a mildly entertaining scene.

"Chrollo..." I whispered, my voice hoarse and broken, barely recognizable to my own ears.

He pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the bathroom, his movements casual and unhurried. "Did you really think I wouldn't know, Y/N? That I wouldn't sense your desperation, your pathetic attempt at escape?"

I lowered my gaze, shame and despair warring within me, my cheeks burning with humiliation. "I can't do this anymore, Chrollo. I can't live like this."

He crouched down beside the tub, his dark eyes glittering with a cruel sort of amusement. "And yet, here you are, unable to even commit to your own demise. How tragic."

With a sudden motion, he grasped my wrist, yanking the razor from my fingers. I gasped, more from surprise than pain, as he held the blade up to the light, examining it with a detached sort of interest.

"Did you really think this would be the answer, Y/N? That you could escape me, escape your fate, with something as trivial as this?"

He tossed the razor aside, the metal clattering against the tile floor, and cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You're mine, Y/N. Forever. And no matter how many times you try to run, to hide, to end your own miserable existence, I will always find you. I will always bring you back."

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the bathwater, as the hopelessness of my situation crashed over me anew. Chrollo was right. There was no escape, no way out of this hell I had foolishly walked into.

He stood, looking down at me with a mixture of pity and cold amusement. "Clean yourself up, Y/N. And let this be a lesson to you. Your life is mine, to do with as I please. And I'm not done with you yet."

With those words, he turned and walked out, leaving me alone in the bath, my skin pruning in the cooling water, my heart shattered beyond repair. I had gambled everything on Chrollo, on the love I thought we shared, and I had lost. And now, I had to live with the consequences, forever trapped in a nightmare of my own making.

Chrollo led me from the bathroom, his hand wrapped around my wrist in a grip that was both gentle and unyielding. I followed him numbly, my mind still reeling from the events that had transpired, the razor's bite still stinging on my skin. He guided me to the bed, the plush comforter soft beneath my bare legs as he lowered me onto the mattress.

I sat there, my hands clasped in my lap, my eyes downcast, as he moved about the room, his presence a tangible force, a weight pressing down on me from all sides. Fear and despair coiled in my gut, my heart racing as I tried to anticipate his next move, dreading what new torment he might have in store for me.

"Look at me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice soft but firm, leaving no room for disobedience.

I obeyed, raising my gaze to meet his, my breath catching in my throat at the intensity I saw there. He stood before me, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his dark hair falling across his brow in a way that was both casual and calculated.

"Do you understand now?" he asked, his tone almost conversational, as if we were discussing the weather rather than the complete and utter destruction of my life. "Do you see the futility of your actions, the pointlessness of your resistance?"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with unshed tears. "I understand that I'm trapped," I whispered, my voice hoarse and raw, barely recognizable to my own ears. "That there's no escape from this nightmare, from you."

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a flash of satisfaction in his eyes. "Good. You're learning."

He reached out, his fingers ghosting along my cheek, tracing the curve of my jaw with a touch that was almost tender. I shivered, my skin prickling with a mixture of fear and revulsion, my stomach churning at the unwanted contact.

"You belong to me, Y/N," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear, sending a chill down my spine. "Body and soul, heart and mind. There is no part of you that is not mine, no corner of your being that I do not possess."

I closed my eyes, a single tear escaping to trail down my cheek, the hot sting of it a bitter reminder of my helplessness. He was right. I was his, wholly and completely, a moth caught in the web of a spider, helpless to resist the pull of his power.

Chrollo's lips brushed against my skin, trailing a path of fire down the column of my throat. I gasped, my hands fisting in the comforter, my body responding to his touch despite the revulsion that churned in my gut, despite the voice in my head screaming at me to fight, to resist, to do anything but submit to his twisted desires.

"You will never leave me," he whispered, his words a dark promise, a vow etched in blood and tears. "You will never escape. You are mine, now and forever."

And as his mouth descended on mine, his hands roaming over my body with a possessiveness that bordered on violence, I knew that he was right. There was no escape. Not for me, and not for anyone else who crossed his path.

I was his. And there was nothing I could do about it.

His kiss was like a drug, the taste of him addictive, the feel of his hands on my body intoxicating. I tried to resist, to push him away, but it was a futile effort. My body betrayed me, arching into his touch, craving more.

He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire, his breath ragged against my skin. "You can fight me all you want, Y/N. But in the end, you'll give in. You'll surrender to me, just as you did before."

"I won't," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

He smiled, a cold, cruel smile that sent a chill down my spine. "We'll see about that."

With a growl, he claimed my mouth again, his lips rough against mine, his teeth nipping at my skin. I cried out, my nails digging into his back, my body surrendering to the pleasure even as my mind screamed in protest.

I knew this was wrong, that I should resist, should fight him with every fiber of my being. But the line between pain and pleasure was blurred, the boundary between fear and desire a thin and fragile thing. And as he ravaged my body, his touch bruising, his voice a low and menacing growl in my ear, I realized with a sickening jolt that a part of me wanted this.

A part of me craved the pain, the darkness, the twisted power play. And that realization, more than anything else, was the final nail in the coffin of my doomed resistance.

Chrollo's hands moved over my body, his fingers tracing the lines of my hips, the curve of my breasts, a strange mix of gentleness and possessiveness in his touch. I gasped, arching into him, my pulse racing, a dull ache building between my thighs.

"That's it," he murmured, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of my neck. "Give in to me, Y/N. Surrender."

His teeth grazed my earlobe, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine. I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair, his name a whisper on my lips.

"Say it," he commanded, his voice rough and low. "Say that you're mine."

"I'm yours," I breathed, the words tumbling from my lips without hesitation, a damning admission of defeat. "I'm yours, Chrollo."

He kissed me again, hard and possessive, his tongue delving into my mouth. I surrendered to him, my body and mind consumed by the raw, primal need that burned between us.

He pulled back, his gaze dark and hungry, a satisfied smile curving his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his thumb brushing across my swollen lips. "Now, let's see just how much you're willing to give me."

He moved with a predatory grace, his muscles rippling beneath his skin, his body a weapon honed to lethal perfection. He knelt before me, his fingers deft and sure, as he spread my thighs, his lips ghosting across my heated flesh.

I cried out, my back arching off the bed, as his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves at my core. He growled, his fingers digging into my hips, holding me in place as he feasted on my body, his tongue and lips working their dark magic on me.

Pleasure rippled through me, hot and urgent, my skin tingling with electricity. I gasped, my hands clutching at the sheets, my body writhing beneath his touch.

"Chrollo," I moaned, my voice hoarse and desperate. "Please, please..."

He laughed, a dark and dangerous sound, his eyes glinting with a mix of lust and amusement. "Please what, Y/N?"

"Please," I begged, the word a broken whisper, a plea for release. "I need you."

"What do you need?" he asked, his tone mocking.

"I need you inside me," I gasped, my body aching with desire, a dull, throbbing heat pulsing through my veins. "Please, Chrollo, I need you to fuck me."

His eyes darkened, a look of pure, animalistic lust flashing across his features. With a low growl, he rose to his feet, his fingers digging into my hips, lifting me effortlessly, and drove himself into me, the sudden fullness tearing a cry from my lips.

I clung to him, my nails scoring his back, my body shuddering with the force of his thrusts. He claimed me, his mouth hot and hungry on mine, his hands gripping my flesh with a bruising intensity.

The room was filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding, the scent of our desire hanging heavy in the air. I cried out, my voice hoarse and raw, the waves of pleasure crashing over me, drowning out all thought, all reason.

I lost myself in the moment, in the feeling of him inside me, filling me, completing me. For a brief, shining moment, there was nothing but us, our bodies moving as one, the line between pain and pleasure blurred and meaningless.

And then, with a cry, I shattered, my body convulsing, the release tearing through me, an explosion of sensation. I felt him follow, his movements growing erratic, his breath a ragged gasp in my ear, his release hot and intense.

We collapsed in a tangle of limbs, the sweat cooling on our skin, the aftershocks of our shared pleasure still rippling through us. I lay there, breathless and spent, a strange mix of emotions churning within me.

I was disgusted with myself, with the way I had surrendered to him, with the pleasure I had found in his arms. But beneath that revulsion, buried deep beneath the surface, was a sense of shameful satisfaction, a twisted sort of gratification.

I had given in to him. I had surrendered to the darkness, the madness, the primal desire that raged between us. And as his arms tightened around me, his breath warm against my skin, a part of me reveled in the knowledge that, no matter what happened, he would always be a part of me.

"Are you satisfied?"

The question hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning, with implications. I glanced at Chrollo, my gaze flicking over his naked form, his skin still flushed with the aftermath of our encounter. He was watching me, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, the challenge clear in his dark eyes.

"No," I replied, meeting his gaze evenly, a thrill of anticipation running through me. "I'm not."

Chrollo raised an eyebrow, a flicker of interest sparking in his dark eyes. "Oh? And what more could you possibly want, Y/N?"

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest as I forced myself to hold his gaze. "I want the truth, Chrollo. The real you, not the mask you wear for the world."

A slow smile spread across his face, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Careful what you wish for, my dear. The truth can be a dangerous thing."

I shook my head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I knew the risks when I chose to stay with you. I'm not afraid of the darkness."

Chrollo chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Brave words, Y/N. But we both know that's not entirely true, don't we?"

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin, his fingers trailing along the curve of my jaw. "You may think you want the monster, but can you truly handle the reality of what I am?"

I met his gaze unflinchingly, my pulse racing with a heady mix of fear and desire. "There's only one way to find out."

With a sudden movement, Chrollo pinned me to the bed, his body covering mine, his eyes glittering with a dark hunger. "Then let me show you," he murmured, his mouth descending on mine in a searing kiss.

As the hours passed and the shadows lengthened, we lay there, entwined, our bodies slick with sweat, the air heavy with the scent of our mingled desire. Chrollo traced idle patterns on my skin, his fingers moving over my body with a familiarity born of countless encounters. But there was a distant look in his eyes, a contemplative expression that I hadn't seen before.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, curious despite myself.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze focused on something far away. "I was wondering," he said at last, his voice uncharacteristically soft, "how things might have been different, if we had met under other circumstances."

I felt a flicker of surprise at his words, a strange sensation of hope and longing stirring in my chest. "What do you mean?"

Chrollo sighed, his fingers stilling on my skin. "If I wasn't who I am, if I wasn't a criminal, a member of the Phantom Troupe... could we have had something real, something genuine?"

I swallowed hard, my heart aching at the wistfulness in his tone. "I don't know," I replied honestly. "But I'd like to think so."

He smiled then, a sad, fleeting thing that barely touched his eyes. "In another life, perhaps I could have truly fallen in love with you, Y/N. Without the lies, the secrets, the constant threat of danger hanging over us."

I reached up, cupping his cheek in my hand, feeling the roughness of his stubble against my palm. "But this is the life we have, Chrollo. The one we've chosen, for better or worse."

He leaned into my touch, his eyes drifting shut for a moment. "I know. And I don't regret it, not really. But sometimes, I can't help but wonder..."

His words trailed off, the unspoken possibilities hanging in the air between us. I knew what he meant, knew the bittersweet ache of imagining a different path, a different fate. But we both knew that there was no going back, no changing the choices we had made.

"We have each other," I said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Here and now. That's what matters."

Chrollo smiled, a real smile this time, his eyes warm and fond as they met mine. "You're right," he murmured, pulling me closer, his arms tightening around me. "And I wouldn't trade it for anything."

#hxh #hxh x reader #hxh x reader smut #chrollo smut #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo x reader smut #hxh smut

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

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a world without you

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

Synopsis: When Leona hears the Shroud brothers' plan, he thinks back to his herbivore, and how their existence has changed so much for him.

Tags: spoilers up to Ch 6!!!, established relationship, angst but fluff, drama, bot proofread

Word count: 878

Notes: this can be read as my view of leona's character, so please accept my leona brainrot <3 just some thoughts I had when I read ch 6. also leona might be a little ooc but it's his internal thoughts so I like to think he's more emotional :3

"It needs to reset before we can start a new game."

Shocked expressions were exchanged across the room as the implications of the younger Shroud's plan slowly settled on everyone's mind.

Leona couldn't help but think that, if the opportunity had been given to him a year ago, he'd likely have accepted whatever the robot kid was going for.

Leona always felt that he had been cheated in life. Ever since he was young, he was constantly compared to his older brother, who was seen as the epitome of success in their family, the perfect heir to the throne. Everyone would constantly praise his brother's achievements while dismissing his own accomplishments as trivial. It didn't matter that he was working hard to prove himself, that he could wield such powerful magic as a child.

He often wondered why he had to be born, if he was only meant to stay in another person's shadow to make them seem brighter in contrast.

No matter how hard he studied, how mature he acted, or how strong his magic was, it was all pointless. The ghostly whispers of the palace staff continued, and the judging remarks from the council intensified.

He was born as the second prince.

And he was destined to forever be just that—second.

When it finally clicked for him, he stopped trying. Why make an effort in anything, when time and time again, he had given his all only to end up with nothing? They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, yet expecting different results. Despite what others might say, Leona was incredibly brilliant, with a sharp mind fit to be a wise ruler. He knew, without a doubt, that it was pointless to continue down the road of insanity.

Instead, he continued down the path of sloth, eventually finding everything, the entire world, pointless. He found himself skipping classes and taking naps whenever he could, hiding away from the world where he would never be able to stand under the sun, but at least comforted by the serene embrace of his dreams.

He had wanted to turn the world to sand and start over.

It had been a wild thought, but here the Shrouds were, proposing an entire reset of the world.

Leona's mind raced as he contemplated the consequences of such an ordeal. Indeed, he had always dreamed of a world where everyone had an equal chance to succeed, where people were not judged based on their social status, birth order, or magical ability. A world where he was no longer burdened by the expectations of his family, where he was free to be who he truly was, a world where everyone was given a fair chance to succeed, and where no one was left behind.

And yet, without realising it, the thought of starting over in a new world had left his mind ever since you came into his life. You were everything he had ever wished for but never deserved in a partner—kind, caring, and endlessly supportive, always by his side despite his crude demeanour and harsh words. You showed him that there was meaning to living, opening his eyes to the people around him. He had friends who cared about him, incredible talent that could bring great changes, and most importantly, you, his dearest herbivore who shone like a beacon in the shadowed depths of his heart.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly content with what he had, despite all the flaws and problems that persisted.

He had never cared about resetting the world and losing everything he had to start anew. But it was a different story now.

What would happen to the people he cared about in this new world? What if he never met you? What if everything he had ever known and loved was erased? And what of the memories that he made at NRC with you, with Savanaclaw, and everyone else?

Leona's thoughts drifted to his memories of you, your fierce eyes staring directly into his, determined to befriend him; the quiet evenings you had spent together under the starry sky sharing stories and enjoying each other's company; the way you would instinctively lean into him for comfort; the dazzling smile that graced your face when you spotted him in a crowd.

He made up his mind then.

He didn't want, no, he wouldn't risk losing you. Your presence had given him the joy he had never experienced, the hope for a better day tomorrow, and he wouldn't give that up for anything. He would continue to work towards a fairer world, but he would do so without resetting everything that he had come to cherish.

He had learned to appreciate the people in his life. He had found happiness, despite the unfairness of the world. He knew that he had found something precious in this unfair world—someone who cherished him wholeheartedly for whatever he may be.

No, he doesn't want to reset the world.

"I'll grant you one thing. The world totally sucks as it is. But I don't think your new one would be any more to my taste. So I'm going to stick with this one. It's less of a pain."

#writing this made me realise vil and leona's characters really mirror each other #vil always works hard because he believes that that will increase his possibility of achieving his dreams #and meanwhile leona has stopped believing in hard work because his efforts have never gotten recognised #my boy's lost all hope #and for vil the film industry is something way more flexible than the royal family's views #so i feel like leona does respect vil and his hard work #just like he respects jamil's talents #hes so optimistic for everyone except himself #ok i wanna really give him a hug now #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland leona #twst leona

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forgotten-realm5 · 27 days

Text

That's all I needed to hear

(image from sorryseraphim)

Gortash x Dark Urge/f!Reader

Warnings & summary: MDNI, 18+, pre-tadpole, After a successful crown heist you realise you have feelings for Gortash, but not wanting to be just like every other conquest you make him work for it. (i suck at summaries), dominant!durge, magical restraint, masturbation (f), sorcerer durge, unprotected sex, p in v, biting, blood, choking, name calling.

Words: around 2K

Notes: This is my first attempt at writing smut ahhhh! i just wanted to try and contribute to this amazing community of BG3 fans, your artwork and writings have given me life. Gortash has taken up residence in my mind and won't leave so enjoy my brainrot ! Even if just one person enjoys this I will die happy.

The crown heist was a success. A feeling of pride and power courses through your body as you consider your partnership with Lord Enver Gortash and the full extent of what can be achieved when you work together as equals. Equals… a term that has never been used to describe you. As a child of Bhaal, you were constantly reminded by your father of your mortality compared to his omnipotence. Your mind ponders at the Chosen of Bane’s use of the word to describe your newly affirmed partnership, as he sits across you with a triumphant smirk on his face. You realise that he may be the first person to actually see you and your true worth, not just a mere slave to your father’s wishes. Never in your life have you felt a connection like the one between Gortash and yourself, the way you seem to complement each other and how he does not shy away from the darkest parts of your soul but instead welcomes it. You realise you are falling for him and feel frightened for the first time in your life, unsure of what to do, unsure whether he feels it too.

You come back to reality and realise Gortash is watching you expectantly waiting for a response to his question. When you don’t answer his face morphs into one of concern. You push your internal thoughts of love and lust to the back of your mind and focus on the object of your desire.

“Are you feeling alright my dear?”

“Just tired, what were you saying? you answer as your cheeks start to flush at being caught out.

“I was just raising a glass to us and the fine job we did in acquiring the Crown of Karsus. We are now one step closer to seeing our plan complete” Gortash explains while pouring a glass of wine and sliding it towards your side of the table.

You take the goblet of wine and raise it “To us and the future of our partnership”.

Gortash chuckles his eyes darkening slightly as he responds “Yes the future of our partnership indeed”.

You noticed his eyes roam over your body and then settle of your lips. You were concerned with your own feelings tonight but didn’t stop to examine his. Now that you think about it he may be trying to seduce you, as it was his idea to have a private celebratory dinner in his room.

Gortash sets down his goblet and walks around the table to come to a stop in front of you. He reaches down and offers his hand to pull you to your feet. You let your eyes roam his body. He is wearing his usual dark attire, but without his formal jacket you can see the lines of his strong chest and muscular arms. Your eyes settle the longest on the front of his shirt where it is has been opened to reveal chest hair you always longed to brush your hands through. Your eyes then focus on his mouth and his full lips, and you imagine taking them between your teeth. You bite your own lips with longing and reach forward to take his offered hand while you stand from your chair. You finally raise your eyes to his, and notice him watching you intensely. You can read him well after all these years, but tonight you see a slight apprehension to him that is unusual.

“Come stand by the window with me” Gortash guides you to the main window in the room, overlooking all of Baldur’s Gate and the lands beyond. It was a clear night, the moon shining bright illuminating the streets and people below. Gortash takes your hand in his and gestures with his other to the city below.

“Very soon all of this will be ours to rule together” He pauses and locks eyes with you.

“You look very beautiful in the moonlight”.

Gortash waits for you to respond with lust filling his own eyes. You know he is used to getting what he wants, taking on a dominate persona in all things. You knew this encounter was a long time coming as he had been nothing but a flirt since the first time you met. Looking at him in the candlelight, you decide you don’t want to be just another easy conquest, you want to be the one to make him beg.

Stepping closer to him you soften your voice to a sultry tone.

“And you’re looking just as delicious” while your hand reaches up to caress his exposed chest through his shirt. It’s just as you always imagined, soft and warm. Gortash chuckles and then smirks at you and slowly, seductively he grabs the hand on his chest and brings it up to his mouth to kiss at the pulse point on your wrist, all the while not taking his eyes off you.

Your eyes shine with approval and he takes that as encouragement to lean forward and capture your lips. The kiss is an explosion of past longing coming to a head. You feel his stubble against your skin as you grab his face to deepen the kiss, his hands move to grip your hips. His mouth tastes of red wine and you inhale his lingering scent of incense and soap. Just as you are both about to pull apart to breathe again, you grab his bottom lip between your teeth and bite hard enough it breaks the skin causing Gortash to moan with approval. You lick the blood off his lips and move away from his embrace.

Gortash looks at you, his face flush with arousal.

“Gods you’re perfect, I can’t wait to hear how you moan my name”.

“All in good time, but first I want to hear you beg for me ” you smirk at the surprise on Gortash’s face, he narrows his eyes but answers with a hint of amusement.

"I don’t beg."

“We’ll see about that”. You motion for him to follow you back to the dining room and forcefully push him into a chair. He is watching you with enjoyment, his eyes following your every move. You stand in front of him close enough that your knees are touching and look down at the noticeable bludge in his pants, you smirk to yourself thinking this will be easier than you thought.

“Looks like someone enjoys a bit of pain” you tease him.

“Only if you’re the one delivering it” Gortash counters.

“Is that so?” you draw out. “You don’t have to hide it, I know you’re a kinky fuck”.

Before he has time to respond you grab his throat and crash your mouth to his. He moans loudly and you can feel yourself becoming increasingly wet listening to his responses. Gortash tries to grab at you to pull you on to his lap but you pull away, and take a step backwards, enjoying teasing him. You quickly cast hold person so he can’t move his body. Gortash chuckles at your use of a restraint and has an amused and hungry look on his face while you start to take off your clothes in front of him. Now standing in front of him completely nude his eyes roam the curves of your body, his face in awe of your physique.

“Come here so I can touch you." You note a slight hint of neediness in his voice that only spurs you on.

“That doesn’t sound like begging to me."

You note his slight annoyed expression and laugh. You then start to move your hands slowly down your body taking time to cup your breasts and play with your pointed nipples. His eyes are glued on your hands.

“Let’s see how long the Chosen of Bane can hold out for” you tease.

His mouth drops open slightly as your hand travels to your pelvic region. You lock eyes with Gortash while you slip one finger into your folds and let out a small moan. You bring the finger back out, now glistening with your arousal which causes a small noise that sounds like a whimper to come out of Gortash's mouth. You smile at him, eyes challenging him to break. He tries to shift in his seat against the restrains of the spell, his arousal threatening to burst through his pants.

“You cruel torturous woman, when I get my hands on you” he mutters, with a violent look in his eye. There is however also a slight note of defeat in his voice which makes you realise he is almost at breaking point.

You continue and pump two fingers in and out of yourself, moaning louder than needed to further torture him. You then bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick them clean slowly, exaggerating your tongue movements to demonstrate what he is missing out on. Gortash is captivated by your show, pupils blown wide with hunger. You then walk up to him and a plop yourself on his lap straddling his waist with your nipples at his eye level. You continuing to touch yourself in his lap, every so often brushing up against his achingly hard, still clothed member. Gortash moans loudly at the display looking about ready to explode.

“Alright! alright! you win” you grin at the victory and at the bitter tone in his voice. You stop your show to listen to the rest of his sentence.

Gortash pauses looking away from you

“Well, I’m waiting” you respond sharply.

“Please” you hear in a quiet voice.

“What was that, couldn’t quite hear you” you reply in amusement.

“Please!” Gortash almost shouts with an irritated look in his eyes. His voice then returns to his usual level.

“Please just let me touch you, let me fuck you, you cruel wicked thing” you hear the arousal in his voice, breathy and needy.

“That’s all I needed to hear” you respond as you break your concentration on the spell.

In an instant his arms are around you, picking you up and almost running towards the bed. He throws you on the bed and gets on top of you.

“You little harlot” you hear his light-hearted tone.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my show, I know you did." You smirk and grab between his legs to emphasises his arousal still tightly pushing against his breaches.

He gives you a look of hunger and hurries to remove his shirt only just realising he is still fully clothed. His body is how you imagined it, muscular yet soft with dark hair coating his body in just the right places. You can feel your desire burning inside you as you eye the patch of hair that trails down his stomach. You reach forward to undo his pants and push his undergarments off eager to see all of him. His member bounces free of its confines already slick. Your eyes widen at the thickness of it, already anticipating the burn. Gortash notices your line of vision and chuckles with pride as he grabs your chin and pulls you in for another heated kiss. He hungrily kisses every part of your body that he was denied while kneading your breasts with his hands. He moves from your mouth to your neck where he bites and sucks at you, you let out a whimper knowing it will leave a bruise. He then grazes his teeth over your nipple, licking, sucking and then finally biting causing you to cry out at the feeling. You feel his self-satisfied smirk against your skin as he continues his path downwards. His tongue enters your folds without warning causing you to grab a hand full of his hair and cry out his name. You can feel yourself about to come undone quicker than you expected .

“Fuck Enver, I need you inside me now."

“That’s all I needed to hear”, his smartass response mocking your words from before.

You let it slide for now as your need is too great, but you make a mental note to make him pay for it next time.

He lines up with your entrance and buries himself inside you in one smooth motion. You both moan loudly at the feeling of connection. You feel a sharp tinge of pain mixed with intense pleasure as you get used to his width. He starts to pump in and out of you at a quickened pace knowing it won’t take long for either of you to cum. You grab on to his body and rake your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood. Gortash hisses in pain and pleasure and bites at your neck in response. Gortash comes first moaning your name loudly, causing you to follow closely, both your bodies withering in ecstasy as you ride out the climax. Breathing heavily Gortash rolls off you and you both lie together in silence for a few seconds recovering. You move to get up off the bed but he stops you with his arm.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to my room?” as though it was obvious.

He pauses, looking unsure of himself.

“I want you to stay, tonight and every night after that. You’re mine now”, his serious expression softens slightly.

“If you want to be?”

As you look into his eyes you are surprised see a vulnerability that you have never seen before. You realised that this night means as much to him as it does to you, and with that thought you agree to stay, content to lie in his arms dreaming of your future together.

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 2 months

Text

So I went to buy some facial soap to the store because I ran out, and I saw this magazine about Spider-man trivia.

Now I haven't bought a magazine in probably a decade, I'm not into them and chances are, if I got it I was going to see what I wanted and promptly forget about it, so what did I do?

Buy it, of course, because my impulse control is horrible.

I went to pay, and the cashier asks "Are you a spiderman fan?"

I am not sure if I can go that far, but I'm half way saying "yeah," when he says "Oh, you have a spider hoodie!"

This is when I remember that I, indeed, was wearing my spider-gwen hoodie, and I didn't want to point out to the spider-gwen keychain that was on my backpack.

Did I mention that I was trying to find a spiderverse theme mug this morning?

In other words, brainrot is strong and if I don't have more Miles Morales merch, is because when I try to get it is sold out.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #miles morales #gwen stacy #autism #adhd #auadhd #hyperfixation

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sea-lanterns · 5 months

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Dragons??? Women??

Dragon women????

my two favorite things in one what?????

oh hohohohoooo

now I'd have an excuse to draw even MORE dragons!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hehehe hohoho

*violently vibrates from excitement*

I can already imagine their dragon forms (at least for the ones prev anon listed)

Jean would be like an european dragon (cuz mondstadt is based off of germany) but she'd look elegant and majestic, but still visible that she fought countless times

Ningguang could be a Chinese dragon, but it would be more interesting if she was a Kirin, since imo they're the most majestic dragon spices there is

Prev anon said something about Sara being a wyrm but if we're technical, they don't have wings BUT amphitheres do, and I thing amphitheres are more often depicted with feathered wings than with the usual bat like wing

And Dehya!!! She's big and strong, like a drake!! She might not be able to fly, but you still shouldn't get in her way, but if you do manage to get on her good side, you'll be thankful in the future

And kokomi would either also a be a Kirin or she'd be a sea serpent. Or if you want to go the "crazy" route, an enormous leviathan, but instead of her looking scary and rugged, she'd look elegant yet fierce

-🦖

pardon me for the extra dragon brainrot, I just had to..

Oooooh very interesting ideas indeed :0

I don’t know much about dragons so I’ll trust your judgement on them, but based on the mini descriptions you gave all of them, they all sound perfect!

I am very interested in making this Dragon AU a reality, so look forward to February since that’s when the Chinese New Year would start! I can’t wait to write for Dragon! Ningguang especially 👀 you guys have been thirsting about her a lot, so Ningguang representing a Chinese dragon would be perfect for a fic idea <3

#🫧feeding the fishes #🦖 anon #dragon au

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who1ssheesh · 4 months

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Xanxus brainrot

Note: I couldn’t even come up with a plot, I just wanted fluffy Xanxus. Hope you enjoy as much as I did writing this

Warnings: OOC Xanxus, nor proofread, English’s not my native language (ouch)

• Accidentally getting a promotion. Getting them way too often and being endorsed way too much. Going home and seeing Xanxus silent, which by the way is weird because usually this menace would have already said how dumb this is and your job is fucking dumb and you are du-

• Actually about “subtle”. No, he’s indeed not. But he thinks he is. And it’s funny that everyone in Varia thinks they are subtle, but you are the observant one. First several bouquets you got were flawless - especially calligraphic cursive handwriting (which now reminds you of Lussuria way too much). And then one time Xanxus fucked up so much, you got flowers with half of petals fucking burnt and the pressure is handwriting on the note so high it was almost ripped.

This dumbass got you flowers personally and still refuses to admit this.

• It’s funny how obvious he can be with small things. Usually he would call you dumb fucking ass and those flowers are dumb and the argument was dumb and you are du- but he stays silent. Xanxus doesn’t stay silence with the most sour face in the world. Xanxus shoots people, throws things around and shouts. He doesn’t stay silent and dart his eyes around the room.

Squalo has been shot several times after noticing this, but he thinks that was worth it cause that’s the funniest face his boss has ever had.

• That’s sad in fact. Xanxus thinks that’s…shameful. He’s bad in relationships. He’s bad with words, he’s bad with people. He’s been bad his whole life, in fact.

Just…just give him a smile, you know. You don’t even have to say anything, he’ll know it’s okay.

If you ever save one of those withered flowers - exactly the one he’s burned with his flame (and it smells like ashes to this day) or that angry written note with pen almost ripping paper, Xanxus will stop just for a moment - so quick, you won’t notice. He has always thought his heart to be frozen, but this time as if he heard a little crack. You manage to lose the most expensive jewelries he gets you, but you save that bullshit like your life depends on it, huh?

He tells you to throw this garbage away. You don’t.

• Xanxus finds you hilarious with your attitude though. The “she comes out in a dress so pretty and expensive, he falls in love even deeper” doesn’t happen. You walk out in a suit and your button shirt opened enough to see you boobs (which is dangerous around this horndog) and then you ask him to visit that pub near cause mafia black-tie events appear to be way too boring. You have probably fucked before running away to that pub

• Fun fact, Xanxus loves playing pool. A lot. No problem if you can’t, he’ll just stare at your ass to distract himself from your shameful attempts.

• Oh boy, will he appreciate you taking interest in his hobbies. Instant cupid arrow through his heart when you ask him to teach you how to shoot just like him.

• Kinda a curse and kinda on you - from now on Xanxus devour your life from you until you learn how to shoot GOOD. And he had high standards. At some point you will hate guns with passion

• He won’t be interested in any of your hobbies in return lol your loss deal with it. But if you are serious about something, he’ll gladly throw money in you he loves throwing things

• GOD WILL SAVE YOU if you accidentally appear to have a flame. Especially strong one (sky??? Even worse if it’s like Xanxus sky+smth??). Because he will devour the whole life from you to make you cool. He will show off you everywhere and everywhere. “Hey you see that one? This thing is mine btw”, so at least he will be proud….

• No romance in this relationship, your conversations sound like “Bitch I swear I’ll kill your family”, “NOT IF I KILL YOUR FIRST”

• Don’t get me wrong but…he thinks about children? Once in a blue moon. At those moments standing at the balcony at 4 am not even drunk thinking about wild shit. Would his life be ok if he never met Nono? That stuff.

• He wonders if his child gonna have your eyes, just like he has his mothers and thinks about it every time he looks in the mirror.

• Xanxus mostly thinks about it in a mocking way - he wants to be that cool badass dad everyone gonna be jealous of. He will teach his son (of course he wants a son) how to shoot his gun, he will laugh the first time this little shit comes home drunk.

• Xanxus has seen a lot. Also he has seen someone’s family being killed. Xanxus is not honest even with himself but he honest with one thing - it will break him. And it will break you first of all

• What if he himself dies? That’s a better option, sure (don’t get me wrong, he wants to die in a badass gunfight), but won’t his life repeat again in his son? He knows there will be people to watch after you both, even you yourself are badass enough (that’s why he dates you), but he doesn’t trust anyone with your life.

So no kids. But sometimes a man can dream, huh?

• My man is not jealous contrary to famous opinion. He likes to see anyone try to even approach you, unironically will find that hilarious. He is a bad influence and encourages you to act like a child - throw a tantrum, throw a drink at a poor fool, tell him you already belong to the bestest hottest man, and he will laugh out loud

• Wear his clothes. He will throw you out the window if you mention, but he starts buying too much clothing that he doesn’t wear. As if he does it for someone else, huh?

• You can hate varia members with passion but they without a joke are going to treat you with respect. You have THE character to keep in touch with their boss, that’s already a sign

• You’re so far gone you’ve probably once was so mad with Xanxus you tried to shoot him with his own gun. Probably ended with a sex marathon. Not that your tiny figure gonna be a threat to this big bear but hey, at least that’s hot

• Xanxus probably has a sweet tooth to this day. His mother could never afford candies, and Xanxus - being even a grown adult - sometimes acts as if he wants all the chocolate of the world.

He will shoot anyone who sees him devouring chocolates. You usually say it’s you when someone notices a pile of wrappers

• I’m talking from a big experience now: childhood in poverty is a trauma for Xanxus to this day and he tends to spend money on dumb impulsive shit. Please don’t encourage him, he’s already insufferable and Squalo has enough of a headache with his boss spending all the money. You appearing didn’t help actually

• One day you just gotta say your man that you don’t need expensive gifts or don’t like flowers, otherwise all the flowers of the world would go extinct. Like varia budget

• That’s his love language, he can’t show appreciation otherwise, don’t blame him?

Though with time he starts warming up to quality time together. He really enjoys your time at a shooting range, especially if you stars gossiping about Varia. At some point he even gonna start commenting your points. Hells, he even likes you just silently sitting in his office while he works

• A chair or a couch in his office, and everyone knows that’s where you’re usually are. Bonus point if there is your stuff all around

• Xanxus is a pig actually and makes a mess 24/7 (thank god he has maids) and it doesn’t bother him, but he will turn into a whiny baby if he ever stumbles in one of your things. Will burn it or throw out a window and have zero guilt about it.

• Has never had a nickname, so will be confused af the first time you call him Xus. Did you insult him? No? YES????

• Likes when you call him nicknames in public, has zero shame. Yes, he has a cool partner, losers. But like….badass ones, he has an image to uphold

• you wearing his feathers you wearing his feathers you wearing his feathers……….

•Xanxus has actually…never had a home. He can buy dozens of the biggest mansions a man can imagine, but that still isn’t home. Living with Nono was hell on Earth in his eyes and his mother he just doesn’t remember anymore after all those years. So the first time he hears your “Ugh, can we go home now?”, he looks at you with the most disgusted face he can make. You think you’ve done something wrong - you don’t see him till late night, when he comes utterly drunk (which means just a little more drunk than usual). But he just flops on a bed to you. “Shut up and go to sleep”. You obviously never get to actual conversation about this but everyone can notice Xanxus hurries back to you (he thinks he’s so subtle about it but this brute is not subtle about anything). He wants to go home.

• Maybe even seeing you around Varia headquarters at some point where you became comfortable around his guardians made something click in him.

Everything is its place. You’ve been the missing part of the puzzle

• It will take long years until someone notices how much their boss changed. Even throw an occasional smile.

• My man has never experienced love JUST LOVE HIM

#khr imagines #khr headcanons #katekyo hitman reborn #Xanxus x reader #khr x reader #varia x reader

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idyllic-affections · 1 year

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hello! i’m relatively new to your blog but i stumbled across your muichiro and hasira mentor!reader and i fell in love (has been a brainrot of mine for a couple weeks now), i was wondering if you could write a scenario about muichiro getting back from one of his first solo missions and the reader just doting over him and helping him clean up minor wounds, despite knowing he’s capable of doing it himself. (i loved the way your characterized the two in your previous writings <3) thank you! hope you have a lovely day!

the first solo mission's aftermath.

summary. muichiro's first solo mission would be a tough time for both him and his mentor, but when he returns, they are there to dote endlessly on him.

trigger & content warnings. self-doubt, depictions of minor injury.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, comfort. muichiro tokito & hashira mentor!reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. this post is an expansion of out of all the clouds in the sky, you are my favorite. hello dear!! welcome to my blog, i hope to see you again in my ask box at some point <3 mui requests are always welcomed. hes my beloved son frfr. thank you so so much, any compliments about how i characterize canon characters are very much appreciated! thats one of the highest forms of praise i could get as a writer. it means a lot when people tell me they like the way i write certain characters, so i really do appreciate it!

tbh i think [name] would cry when seeing him off for the first time.

they would try to hold it together solely for muichiro's peace of mind, offering him a shaky smile and, in a trembling voice, wishing him well as he departs from their mansion.

there's no way seeing one's tsuguko off is an easy experience. each hashira surely has to wonder if their respective student will return or not, if they have taught their student well enough, if their first mission will be easy or go terribly wrong.

there's just... so, so many things that could go wrong.

while mui is gone, i think the cloud hashira would sit and nitpick everything they taught him. they'd worry that it wasn't enough. they know he is impossibly strong for his age, but...

strength does not inherently equal experience. a demon slayer can have all the biological advantages that they want, but if they don't have adequate experience, all that strength will mean absolutely nothing.

meanwhile, mui feels a distinct sense of discomfort and unrest after he leaves.

something about leaving doesn't sit well with him. he doesn't want to leave. he wants to go back, or he wants them to come along.

(he does not understand why at the time, but a few years later, he'll begin to understand that he simply didn't want to leave them on the brink of tears like that.)

in the end, though, muichiro returns after only a few days in one piece, completely unharmed except for a few minor scratches.

his face might not change when his beloved mentor immediately brings him into a tight embrace, but the way his body relaxes into their arms is telling enough.

"welcome back, tokito-kun," they'd whisper, cheek pressed to the top of his head.

"...i'm home, [surname]-sama."

home... the implications of that statement would make their heart burst. indeed, he is home if he's with his mentor. if he's with them. they squeeze him just a little tighter after that.

"[surname]-sama, i can't breathe."

"ah?! i'm sorry! sorry, i didn't mean it!"

mui honestly would just let them dote on him.

they'd gently brush his hair and pull it back into a braid, sending a distinct feeling of nostalgia through his foggy mind.

they'd clean his wounds, opting to take him to the butterfly estate if anything seemed wrong or infected.

they'd just dote on him.

he does enjoy the attention and he realizes that it helps them feel better, so... he just lets them do whatever they feel is necessary.

the attention is really comforting for him, though. he's so young. he shouldn't be fighting demons at this age, and yet, he is. [name] knows this.

to make up for it, they spoil him in all the attention someone so young would need to grow properly.

"So... how did your mission go? I suppose it must have gone rather well," they mused with a gentle smile, gingerly flushing a small yet somewhat deep scratch on his cheek with a saline solution that they'd borrowed from those at the Butterfly Estate. "You're hardly hurt."

"Yes. It went fine," he confirmed in a murmur, doing his best not to move in order not to disrupt their work. "...I thought I was fast enough."

"Hm?"

"I thought I was fast enough to avoid being scratched."

"You did your best," they chuckled, securing a small patch over the scratch to keep any bacteria out, "and believe me, this is nothing. The kinds of injuries you can get in this line of work... this is nothing, really. It's fine. Just make sure it doesn't get infected."

Backing away from his face, they looked over their work before nodding firmly. "Alright. I'm done."

Slowly, the boy raised a hand to his cheek, fingertips ghosting over the freshly-dressed wound. Some kind of foreign warmth spread through his chest. He shifted in place, timidly avoiding their eyes. "...Thank you."

"Hehe. Of course." Not a single thing got past them, it seemed. They brought no attention to his sudden embarrassment, however. "Anyways, are you hungry? Kanroji-san invited us to come out with her to this place a few towns over. I hear they're really good."

He simply listened to them ramble, nodding along absentmindedly when they asked for his input.

He liked their voice.

It was comforting.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion's headcanons 🌸#: [ the cloud hashira! 🌸 ]#demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #platonic kny x reader #platonic demon slayer #platonic demon slayer x reader #platonic muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito x reader #tokito muichiro x reader #demon slayer platonic

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cursedalthoughts · 9 months

Text

SHIPGIRL APPRECIATION DAY - Kearsarge

USS Kearsarge. Let's start this post strong: Kearsarge is single-handedly the most unique character in the game (for legal reasons, in my opinion). Her design should already let you know why, but if you aren't seeing why, I will explain.

This post will divert a little bit from the formula I established post-DoY post (the first I did). It will include very, very heavy use of headcanons that are in no way supported by the lore, but I think are neat.

Personality-wise, Kearsarge knows she is superior. She is better than those other shipgirls that have decades of experience. That's simply a fact to her, and since it's a fact; all her actions do not come as arrogant. She just does things - she disregards your orders if she thinks they're not very efficient, she organizes your documents in a way she finds to be perfect regardless of what you prefer, she charges by herself or stays behind depending on the situation.

On occasion, I neglect your will and prioritize the here and now on the battlefield. While you are the Commander, sometimes you have to let your soldiers handle things – the sooner you accept this, the better.

Her approach isn't necessarily wrong, either. Despite this, Kearsarge is a very reliable shipgirl. She is, indeed, strong - her twelve 406mm main guns are accurate and devastating by themselves, but she also has access to a squadron of five F8F Bearcat attack aircraft. Her firepower is incomparable among Eagle Union backliners.

However, her personality doesn't stay like this forever. When you as the player character get closer to her, you discover she's just autistic. She deeply cares about you, but is so expressive about her emotions and trains of thoughts, it's easy to think she's just a self-centered arrogant woman who speaks with a detached tone. She will not outright tell you she's in love with you, but she will make you some borscht! (I should point out Kearsarge is, originally, a ship commissioned by the Soviet Union, hence her Russian influence). That's her love language.

USS Kearsarge, steel version.

Design-wise, I adore how the artist YD managed to take one of the ugliest ships in World of Warships and turn her into such a beautiful, unique, one-of-a-kind shipgirls. An angel descending from the machine, a seraphim clad in steel and powered by steam. A herald from another timeline, where the Eagle Union necessitated the construction of Kearsarge. Her rigging divided symmetrically in half, her turrets and their support structure taking the shape of 4 wings of white metal, the faux wings and herself connected to a floating halo device to act as a mediator between the flesh and the steel. Her planes up in the air, a ghostly echo. Her arms stretched outwards, "fear not".

In the event Parallel Superimposition the commander visits a simulation based on the anomalous data from the hull of Anchorage. We learnt a lot about Anchorage, Dr. Aoste, Dr. Anzeel, and the Type-II hulls. We also learnt Bon Homme Richard exists in this simulation. Now, I believe this realm to be strictly speaking a simulation - not a real universe. However, when the event ended; TB had managed to gather enough information on Yorktown II, Northampton II, Hornet II, Hammann II and Langley II. Laffey II, as much as she made an appearance, couldn't be studied. I am guessing the same goes for Bon Homme. Who is to say Kearsarge doesn't come from this simulation? Or that she comes from a universe that parallels this simulation?

Hopefully I shouldn't have to point the obvious similarities between Anchorage's rigging and Kearsarge's rigging. Anchorage is like a cherub accompanying the cyber-divine orchestra of Kearsarge's guns and planes.

-------

THIS WOMAN WILL NOT LEAVE MY MIND I HAVE SO MUCH BRAINROT FOR KEARSARGE

hopefully it's entertaining to read and y'all can see why i like her.

#azur lane #shipgirl appreciation day #uss kearsarge

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shakingparadigm · 3 months

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Hello it's the anon who said about the Ivan collar thing 😭. I come with some little brainrots.

Mizi sang "Black Sorrow" as a solo cover for unrequited love, with Sua being dead.

But the cover made me think. What if somehow Sua, in a way, is the Till to Mizi's Ivan. What if Sua, even if she loves Mizi back, never really fully indulged in it.

Specially in "My Clematis" where Mizi regarded Sua as a god, all I can imagine is Sua who always kept a perfect image in front of everyone including Mizi. Sua who never really showed her vulnerability to Mizi even though the other girl bared her entire heart. Just the idea that she somewhat kept a mask of pretend, letting Mizi be as blissful as it can be before the inevitable.

Aka tragic Yuri breaking my heart that Sua had to keep her own planned death a secret from her beloved because of one (and only) little selfish wish, which is to let Mizi live.

(Also sorry for spamming asks this frequently! I've been going through ALNST hyperfixations and your blog have a great humor.)

DONT EVER BE SORRY FOR SPAMMING ASKS! they make me really happy! Thank you so much! Sorry it takes me a while to answer them sometimes, my brains been pretty messy as of late, and I keep losing track of time.

That's a really interesting perspective to see it from. Regarding their relationship as a whole, I actually think it was the opposite. Sua only ever opened up to Mizi, and to everyone else she was timid and closed off. That was one of the reasons why their bond was so strong, they clung to each other. Sua retreats into herself, avoiding others in an attempt to protect her soft-hearted feelings, only sticking to Mizi because she loved and trusted her most. Mizi loved Sua like a dog because she was a cure for her loneliness back when Mizi felt isolated and afraid of being away from her home. They gave each other everything, which is why the thought of Mizi dying filled Sua with so much anguish that she'd rather die herself.

But if we're talking about the few weeks leading up to the first round of ALNST (you probably meant this, my bad) then definitely. She spent the last of her life counting down the hours, putting on a brave face and trying to make the remainder of her time with Mizi the best it could possibly be. I assume it was Mizi that proposed a tie. Sua played along, or maybe even believed in it at first, because ALIEN STAGE was something that they both looked forward to their whole lives, something that was held over their heads like a reward instead of the death sentence it actually was. Sua most likely started planning her death after she realized the possible consequences. The thing is, according to the MiziSua interview, a tie had never happened before in ALIEN STAGE. Which means that we don't know what happens if a tie actually does occur. It seems unlikely that ALIEN STAGE, which derives its stakes from the deaths of the contestants, would let both go forward thanks to a tie. I mean, if that happened, then everyone else would just decide to tie in order to keep each other alive, and where's the fun in a deathless season? Where's the stakes in that? It goes against everything ALIEN STAGE is built on. If a tie did happen, they most likely would have forced a situation where one of them would have to die anyway. It just lengthens the process and makes it more complicated. I like to think that, at some point, Sua realized this. If they tie, there's no guarantee that they both stay alive. In a tie situation, they might even randomly pick the contestant to be eliminated. The circumstances are uncertain and unpredictable, and within those hypotheticals Mizi dying is always an option. But if Sua adjusts her own performance level without Mizi knowing, she can ensure that the only person who has to die is herself. As stated before, Sua is soft-hearted. Her blank demeanor is indeed a mask for overwhelming feelings that lie beneath the surface. Mizi worships Sua, but Sua loves Mizi an incredible amount too. She must have loved her so much that Ivan, an exceedingly observant asshole (affectionate), picked up on it and was able to discern her intentions. Ivan criticizes Sua for choosing to sacrifice herself, calling her out for "playing hero", but most importantly, accusing her of dying only because she herself cannot handle the pain of losing someone she loves. She cannot fathom living a life where Mizi is dead, so she "runs away" from it by any means possible. He accuses her of being a hypocrite because the future that pains her to think about is one that she is about to inflict on her beloved. Is it an act of love or an act of selfishness? Is Ivan twisting her genuinely pure intentions and chastising her into believing that it makes her a bad person? Despite being hit with this crisis and crying over it, Sua decides to sacrifice herself anyway. And her happy mask was so impressive that Mizi failed to notice she was digging her own grave.

Sua not "indulging" in her love for Mizi is actually really interesting, and I can see how it can come off that way because Mizi is much more affectionate. But I actually think otherwise!

I think it's not really that she refused to indulge in her love, rather she indulged in it so much that she died to ensure she'd never have to live without it.

#i had to delete an entire paragraph just to not yap too much but i completely agree that till and sua are alike.#they are the 'gods' and the life of their other half basically revolve around them #but while till might not indulge in his affections for ivan #sua fully indulges in her love for mizi because its all she has #it's really interesting how sua and till are both sensitive according to the Patreon yet the way they cope with that is different.#till explodes outward and sua retreats within #SORRY I CANT EVER ANSWER AN ASK NORMALLY I ALWAYS HAVE TO TYPE THE LONGEST MOST UNRELATED SHIT #Thank you for the ask!! i really appreciate and i find your take very valid and intriguing actually #alnst #alien stage #mizisua #asks

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sunboki · 1 year

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cliché firefighter! chan scenario where the station receives a call that there happens to be an apartment fire to which he quick pulls on his gear along with the other seven accompanying him with similar haste—finally arriving at the location where people are fleeing the building in a panicked state.

as if on instinct Chan reacts, placing the ladder beneath your window whilst giving the escaped population a fantastic view of his muscular figure as he climbed hurriedly. upon arriving at your apartment he pulls his face mask down, shielding himself from the billowing smoke pooling from the opening.

you’re as low to the ground as possible, lungs hacking up any clean oxygen you could manage, eyes beginning to flutter shut as you begin succumbing to exhaustion. that is until a voice calls out, initially you thought it was a dream, but the shadow looming over you tells you this is indeed not a dream but a firefighter coming to save you. perhaps it’s the hazy atmosphere or the licking flames that blur your vision but your savior is effortlessly handsome. especially when he picked you up and his sculpted arms flex. god.

“i’m gonna get you out of here, alright? it’s okay to be afraid but you can do it. breathe for me sweetheart.” Chan placed an oxygen mask over your mouth and nose, evacuating the vicinity in the process of coaching you through breathing, holding you bridal-style that made your head dizzy.

“everyone’s out!” shouted a long, blonde haired firefighter, surveying everyone’s injuries. and finally, the sky began to become visible, the handsome man carefully sitting you on the tail of the fire-truck as he pulled the mask and helmet off his face—causing his hair to fall gorgeously around his head like some sort of heaven-sent. a soft smile graced his features, taking the oxygen mask you handed him in one hand while fishing for a first aid kit with the other.

his voice, now much clearer without the sound of roaring flames sounded like honey on your tongue, kind when he spoke, “a little shaken up, but you’re a fighter. i’ll make sure you’re taken care of, don’t worry.” he applied the anti-bacterial treatment on your scraped knees, placing a strong but comforting hand on your thigh when you winced at the sting.

he lifted up from his squat, giving your head a gentle pat, “i’m going to check that out equipment’s secure, it’s cold, be sure to stay warm. i’ll be back.” he assured, shaking off his jacket to drape over your shoulders. leaving the living god in a tight black t-shirt. trying to kill you isn’t he?

“wait.” you reach to tug at his sleeve, wondering what the actual hell you were going to do now that you’re in this situation.

“if you’re planning to ask me on a date i’d say yes.” there’s a playful lilt to his voice, bending down to smile at you. despite your assumption he’s joking, a sudden gust of confidence overtakes your nervousness.

“well i’m not against it, but i need to at least know your name first.”

“christopher bahng.”

a thought written out. i sort of love him if you couldn’t tell (i lied, i’m madly in love with him). who isn’t? 🤍 can you tell who’s been giving me a brainrot recently..

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aoflameandco · 6 months

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GrimmNell: character study

Well-well-well, I mentioned once that my GrimmNel brainrot is far from being over - so here we go! What else's to analyze about them though? Well, this time we have a new subject to focus on... the Bleach personality quiz!

Yes, I know it's a bit questionable source for a character study, but let me explain! June 2011. The third Bleach Official Character Book UNMASKED was released in Japan. This databook was mostly famous for giving Ulquiorra a more detailed backstory and showing more of Halibel and her Fracción. However, there was another small tidbit for Arrancar's fans - the official quiz from Kubo - Which Bleach character are you?

The quiz was extremely simple. Add up the numbers of your full date of birth and don't forget your blood type. Voila! In the end you get a short profile about your Bleach "personality type", which highlights the key qualities of this particular character.

Now, y'all know where I'm going with this. So, what's like to be like Grimmjow- or Nel according to the databook? Let's check it!

And- Even without any translation, we immediately bump into the first problem. There's only Nel's profile. Not Nelliel's.

Well, they're the same person! It would be weird to separate them, right? But yeah... there's a solid difference in a way her kid and adult forms act.

So the question remains - can we apply this profile's info to the adult Nelliel? Let's read it to find out.

a bit messy not word to word translation's incoming, pls take it with a grain of salt

Cheerful and playful

Nel type!

Good at opening people's hearts. Very quick to make bonds, no matter with who - friends or foes. She is attentive and good at conveying information to those around her. But sometimes she says too much.

• works at her own pace • high sense of camaraderie • doesn't run away from difficulties • hero of justice

Ofc this info perfectly fits baby Nel. She quickly befriended Ichigo, even though he was a shinigami; she was a sort of his guide, explaining how Hueco Mundo works; also she is a big chatterbox, saying surprisingly harsh things sometimes. Her attentive side shined during the Ichigo vs Grimmjow fight, when she noticed Orihime's turmoil and gave her a good advice. She is surely down for justice, but it's a little bit difficult to fight for it in her small body. So the real Nelliel has to step up.

Same qualities but a different approach - that's what I would say about adult!Nel. And it's very visible when it comes to her later interactions with Grimmjow, esp in CFYOW.

But before giving some bright examples, let's take a look at his quiz profile as well - to understand the similarities and contrasts between these two characters.

Responsible but mischievous

Grimmjow type

There's still a bit of a boyish heart (shounen no kokoro) in him. But deep inside he's unexpectedly serious and has a sense of responsibility. He catches the information fast and adapts quickly, but his tendency to get bored could be a problem. If he'll improve this aspect, good fortune is likely to come his way.

• has a sense of responsibility • thrives in adversity • quickly adapts • gets bored easily

And - the quiz highlighted thrice (!) that Grimmjow is indeed a responsible person. Something Nelliel didn't expect as well. As a true hero of justice she was prepared to stop Sexta as soon as he starts an unnecessary violence. But to her surprise - Grimmjow was far from an uncontrollable beast and followed his own codex.

A sense of responsibility didn't turn Grimmjow into an obedient boy though. Him and Nel keep arguing due to their different perspectives - especially when it comes to handling the former enemies.

Nelliel easily bonds with anyone - quincy, Aura, etc., meanwhile Grimmjow picks a fight as a first option. This choice isn't just a result of his bloodthirst though. Grimmjow's survival instincts are strong, so he always stays on guard and doesn't trust easily. That's why he warns Nelliel that her pacifism might end up badly for them all.

Another proof that even though he acts as if he doesn't belong to the group, Grimm isn't as indifferent as he pretends to be. Very responsible of him, huh?

Yet there's another obstacle in their dynamic. Their pacing. Grimmjow is quick to adapt and quick to act, meanwhile Nelliel doesn't like to rush and prefers to gather as much information as possible.

Hard to say who's wrong in this case. Quick reaction benefited Grimmjow in general, but ofc Nel likes to remind him about Askin's incident, her favorite argument to cool him down.

And usually her persuasion works, surely Grimm argues back but still stops. When his stubbornness wins though- there's no way that Nelliel will just let him go. She'll do everything to find him, stop him and bring him back.

Nel complaints but doesn't give up on her fellow arrancar, no matter how difficult the other side is. Knowing Grimmjow's past, the sense of camaraderie isn't an empty word for him too. With creak he opens up to Nel, sharing his thoughts with her. Even though she is too bold with her words sometimes, it doesn't look like Sexta feels a grudge against her.

Grimmjow isn't a friendly type. He likes to fight, but a disappointed look quickly appears on his face, if his enemy doesn't meet expectations. He gets bored easily, he always needs some action. And yet- for some reason Nelliel got his attention.

There's no doubt that he sees her as a nice opponent, he even provoked her to fight with a smirk. He easily forgets anyone who didn't pique his interest and yet Nel's reiatsu is safely stored in his memory.

However, it wouldn't be correct to reduce Grimmjow's attention to a desire to fight, when we have several scenes of him watching Nelliel's peaceful shenanigans. He was calmly watching over kid Nel in anime probably wondering about the connection between this brat and the mighty Tres, he was dying of boredom, but still didn't take his eyes off her tea party in the novel. Even Halibel noticed it and offered him to join, but ofc he proudly refused.

So what did we confirm again? Even though Grimmjow and Nelliel share rather opposite views when it comes to socializing or making decisions, some of their character traits are surprisingly compatible. Grimmjow gained some respect points, when Nel started to notice his responsible side, meanwhile he opened up to her pushy yet reliable presence. Nelliel doesn't give up on her persuasion and he doesn't get bored of arguing with her. Covering eo's flaws they make quite a powerful duo, isn't?

So let's hope we'll see more of their rocky bond next season~

#grimmnel #grimmnell #grimmjow x nelliel #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #nelliel tu odelschwanck #meta

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animeyanderelover · 1 year

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My Mizuki brainrot is still strong so here we go again.

Image

"If I could, may I ask you a question?" the female owner of the shop asked as you were busily packing in the packets of ice cream and, to your delight, candied apples you had bought. You felt quite content, knowing how much Mizuki loved this food. It would be a good way to surprise him and thank him for all the work he was doing for you as a familiar.

"Of course. No need to be shy." you replied in a chipper voice as you lifted up the bag which was bulging a bit due to all the stuff inside of it. "From where did you get this beautiful kimono you're wearing? It's so pretty!"

"My kimono?" you asked, unable to help the smile that made it's way up your face when you saw how the woman looked amazed at the light-blue kimono you were wearing, gorgeous patterns of snowflakes embroiding it.

"I'm sorry to tell you but I didn't buy this. It was a handmade gift from my fami-...from my partner."

You had to quickly stop yourself from mentioning the word "familiar" in front of a human since she wouldn't know and shouldn't know either.

"Ah, really? That's a pity. You must be really happy though to have a lover who spends so much time sewing such a dazzling kimono for you." she sighed almost longingly, causing a laugh to spill from your lips. "Well, I am happy. He's really attentive and tries everything for me, including things he isn't good at. Embroidery and sewing are a few things he wasn't very good at at first so I treasure this very much." you replied, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric.

"Sounds like you found yourself a dream man. Is it possible that all the sweet stuff is for him?"

A wise observation from this human woman, one you wouldn't deny.

"Indeed. He has a bit of a sweet tooth." you answered. "In that case, take this with you. It's on me." the shop owner replied before handing you another packet of ice cream, one you had initially thought was sold out.

"Are you sure?" you asked a bit stunned, looking at her whilst holding the cold package in your hands. "Yes, yes. Please take it. I insist. It's somewhat of a limited edition so make sure to feed it to your lover." she replied slightly grinning.

"Thank you very much." you said gratefully, bowing your head lightly before taking the bag and leavind, returning the wave the woman did. "Please come soon again! And try to bring this lovely boyfriend of yours with you the next time!" You chuckled slightly when you heard her words. What a enthusiastic and nice human she was.

You weren't sure whether or not you should take Mizuki into a big town such as Tokyo though. He had lived so long in his shrine before you came, you were worried that he might be overwhelmed with a buzzling and big place like this. You personally valued the serenity of the Yonomori shrine over Tokyo but it was nice once every while to mingle under the humans.

"This should be far away enough." you mumbled softly to yourself when you reached the stairs that led to the shrine of another god, no human in sight.

A icy gust passed through the tree, contrasting strongly with the summer weather as a small cloud started forming under your feet, lifting you up. Snowflakes were trickling softly down as you were lifted up in the air, flying back to your shrine.

...

You couldn't help the smile when you flew over the river, seeing the newer, albeit smaller, shrine that had been built near the bank of the river. It was for you a sign that you were doing a good job as the new kami of the shrine Mizuki treasured so much. You still lived with your familiar in the submerged shrine from his previous god though as you hadn't wanted to force him to leave a place that held so much memories for him. You drove slowly down near the surface of the water, gently diving your fingertips in. The moment you made contact with the river, the water started parting a bit, allowing you to go inside. You quickly jumped down, the cloud dispelling the moment you left it.

You were floating down, landing softly on the ground when you finally reached the bottom. You were walking in a quick tempo back to the shrine, giddy to surprise Mizuki with all his favorite food. You hadn't told him that you were leaving as you had wanted to surprise him, combined with the fact that you wanted to take slow steps with him. Throwing him into a city like Tokyo right away might be a bit too much.

You were in a good mood until the shrine came into your view and you started hearing distinct shouting and crying. The air felt tenser now, not as harmonious and peaceful as it had been when you had left. You started running the moment you recognized Mizuki's voice being the one who you were hearing.

When you got near the entrance, you saw one of th spirits cowering there. You sank down on your knees, taking them gently into your arms to help their shaking.

"What happened?" you asked, trying to hide any sign of concern in order to give them a sense of stability.

"M-master (y/n)!" the little thing exclaimed happily and relieved, "It's terrible! When Mizuki couldn't find you, he started losing it! We've been doing our best to keep him from leaving the shrine but-but he was so scary!"

Was this your fault? You couldn't help the question rising to your head as you stood up, caressing the spirit fondly. You had no time to dwell on insecurities, you were the god of this shrine so you had to make sure that everything was under control.

"If you're scared, stay outside until things have cooled down. I'll find your friend and send him to you whilst calming Mizuki down, alright?" you spoke softly. The spirit nodded, anxious eyes looking up at you.

"Please help Mizuki."

"I will."

With those words, you left the bag with the spirit and quickly entered the shrine. You found the other spirit of the shrine in the halls, pressing itself tightly against the wall. You saw one of Mizuki's snake who was right in front of it, staring at it with agitated eyes. Why were his snakes acting like that? Was it because they reacted to the shikigami's outburst of negative emotions?

One swift movement of your hands was enough to blow the snake away from your spirit, an icy gust causing little ice crystals to appear on the little one's skin. The snake on the other hand was frozen solid although you had made sure not to kill it.

"Master (y/n)! Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" the spirit cried out when seeing you. It stormed to you and jumped on you, the poor thing trembling all over it's body.

"Mi-Mizuki is-"

"I know, I've been already informed by your friend. Please go outside and stay with him for a while. Don't enter unless it's been quiet in here for a few minutes." you replied, petting it a few times reassuringly before nudging it gently in the direction of the entrance. It gave you one last look before it quickly made it's way out. You let out a relieved sigh knowing that those two were at least safe and unharmed.

The only one left now was Mizuki.

It wasn't hard to find him, all you had to do was following the heartbreaking cries and whimpers from him that filled you with guilt for not telling him.

He was chanting your name like a madman.

"(y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)!(y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n)!"

It didn't stop although he choked multiple times on the next sob that clawed it's way out his throat.

You slid open the shoji door with more force than intended, worried for your familiar.

The room was luckily nearly empty because you knew what would have happened to possible decorations otherwise judging from the few broken bowls on the ground. Mizuki was standing in between the shards, seemingly numb to the fact that he was stepping into the broken pieces which were cutting into his feet. You could see a trail of blood on the ground as Mizuki was pacing back and forth.

He stopped when he heard the noise of the sliding door, neck turning back so unbelievably fast that you were for a split second concerned if it was possible to break a neck by snapping it around too quickly. When you saw his bloodshot eyes and his cheeks, red and stained with tears, it felt like someone had plunged a sharp needle into your heart.

"Mizuki!" you called as your body was moving inside the room with fastened steps. Mizuki on the other hand bursted out into a new wave of tears as he made one big jump and crashed into you.

“Mizuki. You’re hurt.” you spoke as you went down on your knees, pressing him gently against your chest and taking him with you so no broken glass pieces would embed themselves deeper into his skin.

Mizuki on the other hand was clutching onto you distraught, long arms wrapped tightly around you and his head pressed against the crook of your neck. Tears were freely flowing down his face, staining your skin and kimono. He was shaking terribly, his breath quickened and his heart drumming harshly against his chest.

“(y/n). My (y/n). My god.” he was stuttering out in between his sobs like a broken record, taking deep and shaky breaths to take in as much of your scent as possible. He loved your scent so much. It smelled like a clear, fresh and cold, yet pleasantly cold, winter day with a tinge of sweetness.

“Mizuki. It’s fine now. I’m here. Focus just on me and my voice.” you whispered softly, running one of your hands through his white hair and pressing soft kisses against his temple and ear shell whilst continuing to murmur in a soft tone calmingly to him.

You knew that this was the best you could do as of now, holding him tightly against you and reassuring him.

You noticed the two spirits peeking in after a while, checking if everything was fine.

“You two. Please bring me a bowl of water, a rag and bandages.” you told them and signaled with your head to leave you two alone when you noticed Mizuki stirring up inside your arms when noticing the intrusion. You only caught a glimpse of his green eyes, pupils only visible as slits as he was staring dangerously at the two. You were glad they hadn’t seen his gaze. Your familiar decided to quickly forget about those two when you were calling his name softly again, pressing his head against your chest this time. You put your chin carefully on top of his, still stroking his soft hair gently.

When you saw that the two little spirits had bought you your requested items, your body moved up. Or tried to at least before it was pulled back down by Mizuki who let out a panicked cry when you tried to move away from him.

“Mizuki. You’re wounded. I just want to tend to your cuts. I won’t leave, don’t worry. I’ll stay right here. You can still see me and touch me. Please let me bandage your wounds otherwise I’m going to feel like I don’t treat you well enough.”

Green eyes were staring shakily up at you, tears still swimming inside those orbs. His grip tightened around you, his stare filled with distrust.

“I promise. Don’t you believe me?” you asked which finally seemed to work. He let cautiously go although one trembling hand was still holding onto your kimono just in case. You could finally move enough though, quietly thanking the two spirits before asking them to leave again when noticing Mizuki’s unnerving glare at them.

You shuffled closer to his feet when both had left, feeling a little bit better when you saw that there were only a few pieces of glass stuck in them.

“W-wait. Let me do this. You might cut yourself.” Mizuki suddenly stuttered out, bending his upper body so he could reach his feet and take out the broken glass. He was stopped by your sudden sterner tone which held the power to control the shikigami.

“No, Mizuki. You will let me do this.”

He instantly stopped and laid back down. A moment later he was curling his upper body enough so that he could lay his head on your lap. You had started picking delicately and carefully out the broken shards and cleaning the blood from the wounds and his feet. When you felt the weight of his head on your thighs, you occasionally caressed his face with the knuckle of your finger.

It was done within a few minutes and you were glad that nothing more serious had happened. You doubted that you could leave him alone already though. He was still shaking and crying and now that you had bandaged his feet, he was quick to crawl up your body to have more body contact with you.

“Where were you?” he hiccuped up between his softer sobs.

“I was out in town, Mizuki. I wanted to buy ice cream for you and thank you for everything you do for me.” you admitted with a sigh, welcoming him once again in your arms.

“Then why didn’t you take me with you?! I was scared. I was so scared when I couldn’t find you.” he cried out, his voice raised out of panic and confusion.

“I…was scared that I’d overwhelm you with the city if I’d take you with me. You haven’t left the shrine in so long, I was worried. I wanted to start slower with you.” you admitted, feeling sorry because your attempt to be considerate had ended in a catastrophe.

He had sat up properly right now, arms still tightly encircled around you as he pressed his forehead against yours. He shook his head when hearing your statement.

“I don’t care about being overwhelmed and the changes during my absence. But (y/n), I’m your familiar! You should take me with you since I’m there to serve and protect you. If I can’t be with you, what am I here for then?”

His voice broke a bit at the end, paining your heart even more. One of your hands cupped his cheek and wiped away the tears spilling out of his green orbs.

“Please take me wherever you go. I don’t care where that is, I just want to be with you. Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me alone! I’m scared when you’re not by my side.”

You knew that the loneliness after the death of his previous kami was talking out of him, a severe separation anxiety the result of it. You hadn’t expected it to be that bad though.

“Promise! Promise that you’ll take me with you from now on everywhere!” he sobbed terrified when he noticed your silence.

You looked at him before letting another soft sigh out. You were really coddling him too much.

“Alright, Mizuki. I’ll take you from now on with me when I have to leave the shrine.”

“Promised?” he mumbled softly, green eyes staring infatuated at you.

“Promised.”

The moment you promised, he leaned closer to give you a needy kiss.

“Then I swear to make sure that you never forget your promise. I’ll be with you. Always.”

#yandere kamisama kiss #yandere kamisama hajimemashita #yandere mizuki

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