#FINALLY. I HAVE THINGS TO POST LOLLLLL

[dragon-spaghetti]

Time to start posting these!! First off we got the beloveds 🥹💖

Available as a playmat and as a poster!! Pre-orders are open til the 27th of Sept ✨

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[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Three

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: The promise of taking your return “one step at a time” seems appealing until you realize that it comes with being vulnerable. And being vulnerable makes you run. 

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues.

Word Count: 4.1k 

A/N: Hi besties ! ! ! Im so sorry this took so so so long for me to update, unfortunately life had other plans for me lol ironic how i'm writing about anxiety attacks while i myself was dealing with having one basically everyday . Don’t worry about me though , worry more about the heavy angst your gonna read lolllll anyways this one was fr a doozy to write and edit so take breaks when you need it but i promise things will get better in the next chappy ! ! Also, i made it extra long to compensate for my late post lolllll I still hope you all enjoy ! <3

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 (your both sweeties ! ! ty for being on my taglist, extra love 4 u n for everyone who gets on the taglist <3)

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Masterlist

The sky outside your window was a deep shade of blue with black bleeding into its edges. Not a peep of the morning sun had made it into the sky, keeping it a lighter shade of the usual night sky. 

Your hands gripped the edges of the sink as you looked into the mirror, the cold ceramic making goosebumps appear on your skin making you shiver in your pajamas. Your eyes traced your mirrored face, moving from the creases on your skin to the deep, dark bags underneath your eyes. 

You got no sleep last night as you were on the cusp of making a decision you weren’t exactly sure was a good one, but was a decision you wanted to make regardless: you were returning to The Beef and taking it one day at a time, just like how Richie said. 

You didn't even know why you were returning anymore, you just sort of felt a calling when you stepped foot in the kitchen you vowed to never return to.

Your shoulder twitched as you thought about the kitchen of The Beef. You could feel the ghost of Carmy's hand searing into the spot on your shoulder where he rested his hand for a brief second as he passed behind you.

With a shaky breath, you looked down and turned the sink on to splash some lukewarm water on your face. It was time to get ready. 

After quietly moving about mindlessly in your room, you were ready. From one of the many boxes shoved in the back of your closet labeled "The Beef", you pulled out ivory wide leg linen pants, covered in colorful pigments, a cropped sleeveless black top, and an oversized sweatshirt that had a graphic of The Beef on the back. You sighed, looking at your old 'chef' clothes. 

Suddenly, you were pulled into a memory. 

You walked into The Beef, grinning widely as you made eye contact with Richie who was behind the counter. There, he was preoccupied with counting cash from the register but instantly perked up upon seeing you walk through the front door.

You were wearing your ivory linen pants and cropped top as well as the oversized sweatshirt. It was a staple outfit you often wore when helping out at The Beef. 

Richie clapped his hands as you held up and lightly shook the white paper bag in your hand. 

"Hallelujah, my prayers have finally been answered!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into a prayer formation. 

You snickered and placed the bag on the counter before gently opening it up. Richie then shoved his hand in the bag, making you laugh and scold him. 

As you two playfully bickered, a hulking frame walked over from the kitchen and over to the entryway that led to the front of the restaurant.

"What'd ya get me, baby?" 

You turned to the doorway of the kitchen where Mikey leaned against the frame, his toned body taking up the entire space. One hand rested on his hip while the other stretched up, gripping the top of the door frame. 

Noticing that you were busy ogling at your boyfriend, Richie took the opportunity to quickly grab his dessert from the bag and start eating it feverishly. 

You beamed at him, cheeks rosy, "I got us all our favorite cream puffs from the bakery down the street. The last ones too!!" 

Richie took another bite of his cream puff and groaned, mouth covered in sugar and muffled as we went on and on about how this was exactly what he needed after a long day. Meanwhile, Mikey let go of the frame and slowly made his way to you, eyes locked with yours. 

As he approached you, his gaze never left your own, making you flush. Fuck, his eyes were always so intense. 

You held up his own cream puff, making him lick his lips as he stopped in front of you. 

The world seemingly disappeared around you as he murmured quietly, only loud enough for you to hear, "Feed it to me, baby?" 

The front door slammed behind you, making you jump and grimace. 

"Shit…" you whispered to yourself, not meaning to make so much noise as to avoid waking up your parents.  

After locking it much more quietly, you grabbed your tote bag full of supplies and rushed down the steps to your car. The sky was still dark, but was lighter than before making you anxious about getting to The Beef on time. 

The streets were dead and silent as you passed the green lights. Occasionally, another car would pass by, making your heart race as you feared you would accidentally have your plans exposed early. After all, nobody knew you ended up making this decision to fully return. 

After parking a little down the street to keep your car hidden, you sat in your car, mind replaying the memory of Mikey. You can see the pink flush on his tan skin, making him look so... alive. You can see the way his chest rises as he breathes in, pink lips parting as he breathes out. His hair was well kept despite a long day at The Beef. Before you, he looked well. 

He looked alive. 

But he was dead. 

Your grip on the steering wheel weakened as your arms felt numb. Your hands had even begun to get sweaty, slipping down the steering wheel. 

Your Mikey was dead. 

It has been over half a year now that Mikey died. 

As you continued to sit there, the windows started getting foggy and the interior got stuffier and stuffier, making you feel like you were suffocating.

It's been over half a year since Mikey had died. 

Your right hand had begun to slide its way from where they fell onto your lap and to your tote bag, shaking. Your breathing got faster and faster, your heart racing right until… 

Your fingertips hit cold metal.

Your heaving chest froze, your shaking hands froze, it even felt like your rapid heartbeat froze. 

Slowly, your fingers curled around the keys and pulled them out. They jangled as you pulled them up to view. 

The keychains, all unique and worn down from years of being stuffed into pockets, bags, etc, glistened under the streetlamp. The small square keychain that contained a photo of you and Mikey, squished together but grinning during a trip to Coney Island years ago, seemed to glare at you as it turned in the air to face you.

You threw the car door open and shoved yourself out and onto the street, stumbling as you tried not to fall onto the cold asphalt. Hot tears streamed down cheeks, feeling out of place and unexpected despite your emotions in that moment. You hiccupped to yourself, trying your best to bite down on the sleeves of the sweatshirt to muffle your crying. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine,” you repeat to yourself, trying desperately to stop the tears from continuing.

You dragged your bag from out of the car, yanking it, body flailing forward as the heaviness of what was inside set in. You hurriedly locked your car and crossed the street, steps heavy as you rushed towards the back door of The Beef.

With a pause, you quickly wiped your face with your limp hands and took a shaky breath. The metal back door was slightly rusted around the metal edges, making it look old in a way that made you shiver as you thought of the night you came here and saw it for the first time in months. With your eyes squeezed shut, you twisted the knob of the door, hoping to find it locked.

Lucky for you, it still was.

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and brought your keys up to unlock it. By now, the sky had barely started to get specks of yellow and orange; you knew that any moment now Carmy would probably arrive. After all, you reminded yourself, he would be the kind to aim to arrive before anyone else and start prepping for that day’s meal service.

You quickly shoved the keys into the lock and it clicked open. After accidentally dropping the keys as if it was hot metal, you got back up and swung the door open, pushing forward over the threshold to turn on the lights. 

You blinked as the lights slowly illuminated the steel appliances of the kitchen and the white walls. It was completely silent, aside from the subtle buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you. It was oddly calming too, standing there in a place of chaos where there wasn’t any. It made the knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach slowly unwind. You were terrified that being in here, alone, would cause you to scream, cry, throw things, or just do something, but you were relieved to feel that you just… you felt… fine. 

Your feet shuffled across the kitchen and to the lockers. Instinctually, you went and stood in front of the locker you used to use and reached up to open it before pausing. 

With a quick step back, you hummed to yourself. You haven’t been there in so long and because Carmy has since taken over, there is a good chance that the locker you left abandoned was repurposed for someone else, but something inside you pushed you to unlock it anyway.

The locker clicked and creaked as you opened it, your eyes widening to find it empty. You eyed each corner before looking down to see a clean and neatly folded apron resting there. The sharpie writing underneath the logo of The Beef was smudged after years of washes and rewrites, but you could still make out your name in Mikey’s writing. 

You reached forward, the canvas fabric of the apron feeling soft under your fingertips as you gently traced the curves and corners of your name. 

Your throat tightened, making you pull your hand back fast, as if burned by the touch of the fabric. 

Exhausted at your own reactions, you rolled your eyes, “Fuck, this is so stupid.” 

You grabbed the apron and shoved your tote bag inside. After changing your shoes to some non-slip ones more appropriate for working in the kitchen, you threw the apron on.

The clean scent of fresh laundry invaded your nostrils, making you sniff as you realized that this was very recently laundered. Your eyes closed and your shoulders sagged, it must have been Sugar that found this somewhere in the mess of the office and cleaned it for you.

You wiped down the front counters and restocked the cups, knowing exactly where it was that all these things were kept in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you noticed the paper sign you laminated and stuck to the wall where the cups, utensils, and plates were kept was still there after years. The paper itself was wrinkled and the writing was blown out, having suffered a water related accident courtesy of Richie before you decided to laminate it and stick it back on. Your writing said ‘Please place all disposables here! Thank you (:’ and underneath it was Richie’s messy, blown out writing saying ‘Don’t tell me what to do!’.

By the time you had finished doing the small tasks you used to do in the front, the backdoor swung open with a loud, "Hello?"

You stood up and whipped your head to the doorway of the kitchen. Carmy's voice echoed out again. 

"Richie? Are you here?" 

You quickly ran around the counter and to the doorway, pausing awkwardly once in view of Carmy, "Uh, hey. It's actually me."

Carmy's eyes widened briefly, surprised to see you, "Oh… hi." 

You shifted your weight from one foot to another. 

His blue eyes looked at you up and down, "You uh, found the… the apron, huh?"

You looked down at your apron and nodded to yourself, "Yea yea I found it in my… in a locker." 

Carmy nodded and moved forward, moving to set his things to his own locker and prepare himself to work, "Richie was the one who, uhm, told me where your locker was and I found your apron in the office so… I cleaned it up for you."

His voice got smaller and smaller at the very end of his sentence, making your chest tighten at the mention of where your apron was found. 

You fiddled with your fingers, "Oh you did?"

Carmy hummed in affirmation, gesturing you to follow him as he moved around the kitchen. He led you to the fridge, showing you to some of the empty labeled bins. 

"Help me with restocking these?" 

Everyone else came in that morning, surprised to see you but trying their best to cover up their curious stares and questioning glances to one another. But you, once again, found yourself standing in the kitchen with a knife and cutting board, chopping the vegetables needed for the day. It wasn’t a menial task, prep was extremely important, but the lack of movement made you feel a bit useless. 

After all, you once helped run this damn place.

But you continued, not saying a word to keep the flow going. The key word was that you ‘once’ helped run the place and you didn’t anymore. 

When Richie came in, he yelled out upon seeing you, "Cousin!!"

You put your knife down turned around just in time for him to hobble towards you and wrap his arms around you. 

"Cousin, what are you doing here?" He said, excited. 

You chuckled softly, "I'm here to help but I'm taking it one step at a time." 

He smiled at your words, reminded of your conversation from yesterday. Then, he stepped back, put his hands on your forearms to get a good look at you, and, in a low voice, said, "Are you okay here?"

Your shoulders sagged as you sighed, "Yea yea, I'm fine… but are you?" 

Richie chuckled and nodded his head, “Ah some stupid little stab isn’t gonna kill me. You would need a boa constructor or something like that to do the job… or whatever the hell Eva mentioned she saw on her field trip to the zoo…”

He muttered the last part under his breath, making you smile and giggle to yourself, forgetting all your worries for a split second, before Sugar’s voice brought you back.

“Oh my gosh you’re here?!” 

At the tone of her voice, you jerked back and away from Richie’s grip. Your smile dropped before you quickly plastered it on again, nodding in her direction. But this action wasn’t kept unnoticed, like how you hoped; Richie’s own smile slowly fell into a frown, eyebrows creasing as he looked across your face, trying to read what was going on and why you stopped smiling when you saw Sugar. 

Sugar raced over, smiling but eyes looking concerned, as she wrapped her cardigan around her body, “Hi sweetie! How are you? It’s been a while and I was going to reach out to you.” 

Her normally comforting and kind demeanor made your eyes narrow. The way she spoke to you… it felt… not good. 

But you shook this feeling away, unsure why exactly you were feeling this way over Natalie, one of your previously closest friends. She cared about you, always checked in with you, and for pete’s sake she was your dead boyfriend’s sister! You were as thick as thieves at one point in life. 

“At one point in life…” you mumbled to yourself.

“What’s that?” Natalie asked, reaching out to gently place a hand on your forearm in concern. 

You jumped slightly, having been lost in thought for a second, “I’m fine, sorry, just lost in thought.”

You looked around the kitchen and felt yourself shrink as you realized that everyone there was stealing glances in your direction, eyes quickly turning away when you glanced at them.

“Can i just…” you began, feeling yourself grow more and more agitated.

Natalie nodded, trying to encourage you to say whatever it was that you wanted to say. Richie continued to scan you, head tilting to one side as he tried to piece together what was going on.

All of a sudden, the clanking of pans and the warmth of the flames being turned on started to get louder and hotter. It was like they were right up against your ear, despite being over 5 feet away. Your breath began to irregulate, some deep and heavy and others shallow and fast.

Noticing this, Natalie’s eyes widened, “Oh no, hey uhm, how about we go outside real quick?”

Richie quickly grabbed your shoulders and gently steered you forward and through the kitchen, to the backdoor. 

Carmy, who was in the front at the time of you three talking, came out when he saw you all rushing to the backdoor, “What’s going on?”

“She’s having a panic attack, we are going to get some air!” Natalie said, loud enough for it to echo across the kitchen and over to where Carmy was standing, in order for him to hear over the noise of the prepping.

This seemed to get you out of your stupor. 

You didn’t realize that you were frozen and being led out of the kitchen until in that moment when Natalie seemingly announced to everyone there that you were having a panic attack. In the restaurant that you used to help run. Like it was nothing.

You could feel eyes hitting your back. Although you couldn’t hear it, you just knew that there were whispers either happening or going to happen the second you walked out the door. 

And that made you lose it. 

Whispers that ‘oh, that’s his girlfriend’ and ‘she doesn’t seem to be taking his death well despite trying to move on with someone else’ and even ‘i heard she ran away from his funeral’. Whispers labeling you as so many awful things that you knew you weren’t, but they would never understand why you did it; why you left. No one would understand. No one right now understands.

That made you lose it.

You jerked your shoulders to shake off Richie and Sugar’s hands before pushing forward. You shoved the door, making it swing all the way open with a bang and stomped out. 

Natalie and Richie raced after you, alarmed at your sudden aggression. 

You crossed your arms, a grimace on your face, as you turned to look at them as they stood in front of you.

“What’s going on??” Natalie asked, voice quivering with worry. Her arms winded around her body, hands clammy.

“Cousin, what was that?” 

It made you sick the way Richie’s hardened eyes pleaded for you to tell him what was wrong. But it was Sugar’s careful tone that just made it worse. 

You grit your teeth, rolling your eyes which took Natalie aback.

“Are you… upset?” she said.

You scoffed and threw your arms down to your side, “Are you serious? Actually serious, Natalie?”

Natalie jerked back, making Richie shake his head and speak up, in a calm but agitated tone, “Cousin, what are you going on about-”

But before he could finish, you interrupted him and yelled, “Oh my gosh just… stop!!!”

Your voice echoed in the quiet morning street. The sky was light blue and the sun was still orange as it slowly made its way up the sky. The birds chirped in a harmonious tune that practically said ‘today is a lovely day!’ to those who made their way around town that morning for whatever they had on their to do list. 

But here you were, outside of The Beef again, and this time angry.

“I’m fine!! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you and remind you but I. Am. Fine!” 

The two reeled back for a second, hurt written all over their faces as you yelled at them. 

Richie then straightened up and crossed his arms, his own voice getting louder by the minute “What the hell is wrong with you? Natalie is just trying to help.”

“Oh yea, ‘help’! By treating me like a fragile piece of glass that will break at any second, you're ‘helping me’, right?” with your hands, you quoted each word for help, voice getting louder and louder to combat Richie’s own booming voice.  

“Sweetie, I didn't mean to treat you like that…” Natalie whispered, tears forming in her eyes. 

You groan and turn away, “You talk to me like I'm a child and I'm sick of it!”

“What’s going on?” Carmy said, interrupting you as he walked out the backdoor to join you three, “I can hear you yelling from inside.”

But you ignored him and continued, “Why are you avoiding talking about what happened as if saying the word or his name is going to make me explode? Why?!”

Carmy blinked, “What do you mean why?”

“Stop pretending like everything is fine and normal and that you have to watch me around knives and give me baby tasks to keep me busy as if being around The Beef is going to kill me!” you growled, tears of frustration starting to run down your cheeks. 

Stupid tears. Such traitors. 

Carmy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Nobody is treating you like a child and I'm not giving you ‘baby tasks’, you know this.”

“Really Carmy? You're one to talk, seeing as you don’t even want to acknowledge or talk to me!” 

Carmy cleared his throat, voice low in an effort to control his own growing anger, “I’m not the one who is avoiding you or anything, okay? None of us are.”

Sugar covered her mouth and turned away from you, trying not to let the tears stream down her cheeks. Carmy turned, just in time to see her watery eyes. His jaw clenched as you seethed in front of him. 

“Listen, we all know you're grieving, okay? It fucking sucks that your boyfriend is dead but guess fucking what, my brother is dead and so is Sugar’s brother. Richie’s best friend is dead and everyone in here’s boss and friend is dead too. Your not the only one who is dealing with this so stop fucking acting like everyone here is out to get you for dealing with Mikey’s death!” Carmy blurted out, neck veins bulging as he leaned forward with every sentence. 

Sugar gasped and whipped around, “Carmy!”

“What? It’s fucking true! Everything has gone to shit, yea, but that doesn’t mean you're dealing with it alone! Mikey left a shit ton of people like you, me, and everyone else to pick up the pieces of his fuck ups, so stop acting like a baby and get to work, break is over.”

With that, Carmy turns around and goes back into The Beef, leaving you staring angrily at the ground with tears running down your cheeks and your fists clenched at your side. Richie softened at seeing you cry, but did nothing to prevent Carmy from going on his rant. 

Natalie sniffled quietly, wiping away at her tears as a few rolled down and hit the pavement underneath her. She then turned to you and smiled a watery smile, giving you one last glance of reassurance before turning to go back inside. 

As the door closed behind her, you broke into a sob, your once stiff body crumbling to the floor with a crouch. Your body shook, throwing all the adrenaline you had into each sob that wracked your body. 

With blurry vision, you didn’t see the way Richie sighed before he moved forward, arms wrapping around you with a clenched jaw. His own eyes were beginning to rim with tears as he held you, listening to your cries in agony get muffled into your hands and his chest.

Once your sobs turned into small cries and staggering breaths, Richie helped you get up and lean against the wall. He gently wiped your tears, fingers running the same path that he used to do when he found you upset after a particularly difficult argument with Mikey. 

Then, he left you there. 

He kissed your temple and turned to go back inside, leaving you alone outside with the chirping birds and the warm sun to contemplate what happened. 

“I really fucked up…” you whispered to yourself, sniffling.

And like the way you left from Mikey’s funeral and your exes out west when things got hard, you ran. You took your things silently and without saying a word to anyone about what you were doing and where you were going, you ran. 

[osarina]

I JUST GOT AROUND TO READING I, CARRION AND UGH!!

“there’s a lecherous smile on Albatross’s face as he leans against the frame and looks at you, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. ‘Damn, if you weren’t the boss’s girl…’” awww stop it you’ll make me blush

THE SCENE W DAZAI FINDING US NOT READY YET “It’s not silly if it has you upset,” kisses on the nape of the neck and then kissing our ankles & buckling our heels >>>>>> “I’m sorry that I’m not a good enough man to do what’s right and let you go.” hey so what if i started violently sobbing. “but if fate brought us together, then far be it from me to deny the one thing in this world that has ever made me happy.” HEY SO WHAT IF I STARTED VIOLENTLY SOBBING.

“Still, he wants to gouge their eyes out.” if my man doesn’t want to gouge out people’s eyes just for looking at me, i don’t want him ‼️‼️

“My, Dazai, possessive, aren’t you?” “Very,” Dazai agrees idly. “Be sure to remember that.” bringing his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “That’s my girl, always so smart.” blushing giggling kicking my feet twirling my hair

“Fyodor Dostoevsky. A pleasure, truly.” oh no. oh no no no no no. that’s not good.

one more thing, i noticed that you kinda like made up your own characters (which was super cool and really creative btw!!) could you explain how/why you chose the specific authors you did? and i’m assuming you got their group names from something they wrote, any reason you chose those works in particular? (these are the ones i’m talking about: Mishima Yukio of the Sun and Steel, Nabokov’s Pale Flame, Leo Tolstoy’s Three Deaths, Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber, Kitazawa Michihiro of Fuji Electric)

ty for listening to my ramblings once again ily !!

TUMBLR USER PE4RL-DIVER UGHHHHHH I LOVE YOU WHENEVER I SEE U IN MY NOTIFS IM SO HEART EYES

albatross is truly her no1 fan in this fic and she adores him <3 dazai is so not unsubtly jealous of him whenever she talks to him. gets all side eyed and irritated and then has to hide it whenever she looks at him LOLLLLL meanwhile albatross is just pleased that dazai is no longer an emotionless brick wall with a quick trigger finger

WHEN I TELL U THAT SCENE WAS ACTUALLY MY FAVORITE EVER i actually struggled so much writing it not because it was hard to write just because i was yearning so terrible for him LOLLLLL HAHAHAH

</33333 we all need our own beastzai truly life is so unfair he's so perfect

OMGGGGGGGG actually thats my favorite part of writing series/long one shots. i adore being able to build up new characters and organizations. usually i pull them just from some of my favorite authors/works (i cheated with the one electric company its actually just a real company because i got lazy) BUTTTTT mishima is obviously my go to just because there's lowkey already been reference to him and his works in the series but no mention of him, so he's my favorite to build and explore. and then i dont know why but i always have the russian underground divided by three (tolstoy, dostoevsky, nabokov) and usually in a constant territory struggle. of the two ive built up, nabokov is usually the one i use the most because ive hced that he worked with the previous boss pretty often before things went to shit. but i've actually built tolstoy's organization more than his - the three deaths is led by a triumvirate of tolstoy, gorky, and cheknov who were all contemporaries and had were associated with each other. and actually fun fact, i plan on doing a fic with a reader who takes the place of cheknov as one of the three deaths so we're going to see more from them. cao xueqin wrote one of the 4 great classical novels of chinese literature. my fyozai fic i've also built a new organization for - they're based in italy and are in constant conflict with the clocktower, but i don't wanna give anything away because u shall see when i finally post that

maybe one day ill do a whole little page for the organizations ive built & their references in my fics for u guys to look at if ur interested!!

[justanotherhh]

I picked the absolute wrong time to get emotionally invested in stolitz I got into helluva boss after I finished watched hazbin hotel s1 then over the next few months i watched a load of stolitz analysis videos then the moment i got on board they broke up because character stuff how to cope in the next few months.

lolllll commiserations, but also! if I may counter...

I too got into helluva post-hazbin s1 (I'd seen the hazbin pilot back in the day, but hadn't realised there was a whole other show also being made) and I'm kinda feeling this is the best time to get into it, because:

I confess, I like to know what's going to happen, I like to have a strong sense of structure, and while that structure does begin to appear pretty early on (we introduce recurring villains and characters, relationships that'll be picked apart, etc. way back in the first few episodes of s1) it's not until end s1 and especially s2 that these teasers start to bear fruit... kind of like any tv show really except ofc one does have to (understandably) wait quite awhile between episodes on this one

I'm glad, on the note of waiting between episodes, that I got some run-up where I could just watch some stuff and then settle down for the next part of the story. I've got all the stuff I want to theorise on what's coming next (certainly far more than a poor soul watching back in s1 presumably had) and I have a strong sense of the trajectory of the show

I... am so into angst..... oh it's the best feeling..... I wanna sit in this space for aaaages, which is good, because I don't think they'll even start patching things up until the finale (I could be wrong about that ofc, get a loootta curveballs in these 20mins). i also like the doors it opens for Blitzo to suffer more, what can I say... he's my favourite, I want him sad (tbh I also want him hurt, but hey, we've got a whole other two seasons coming after this, I can cross my fingers for that)

in conclusion: So Much Information! So Much Character Growth! Several Episodes! Angst (if you're me)! But also it's not finished, so you know there's pleeeenty more to come in this story, which is its own joy!

do not be too saddened by things. consider, you could have been waiting after Ozzie's without a clue as to whether they'd broken up or not (the answer, ofc, was "mmmmno but that's just because they're not talking about it, just you wait...")

[baylardo]

my jj carey cinematic universe kinda chronological idea posting its still super rough GO

elephant wrote in the Carey chapter of lesson plans that peppa and jj were pen pals :3 i think they have an age gap of like 9 years lmao -looks away- (((((chakotay and janeway have the same gap leave me alone lmao)))))) but theyd be like 5 and 14 i think? i figured thatd be how they communicate through their earlier life,,,

maybe peppa would accompany her mother during the Widow’s Walk lil short story about kathryn meeting Joe’s wife and their two sons to bestow the medal of honor or whatever and gives JJ his father’s model of voyager :)

i figure theyd remain distant for a while after that for a variety of reasons like hes grieving his father, probably enters the academy as a promising cadet, idk when hed drop out/leave tbh but it comes as a shock to everyone. anyway also peppa’s mom dies and they go space for several years. i figure theyre both busy being in school/living life to interact much. i thought like maaaaaybeeeee he and patrick (or just jj) would reach out to the triplets when their mother died but i dont think philippa especially would receive it well. shes bad with her feelings and her papa left or was in the process of leaving also lol WHOOPS

might be some time inbetween when they connect but its always brief and very platonic just friends catching up in vibe. put a pin in that one lolllll,,,,,, otherwise:

i was thiiiiinking theyd reconvene at a voyager 20 year reunion? (the 10 year i think lands when theyre out in space!) so shed be around 25 and hed be 34? 🤔 when theyre both adults by that point i think, reconnect out by a fountain. theyd get to talk about what all has happened in their lives, its a little bit of an escape for philippa from the party, shes surprised hes even here considering. very likely his mother and brother didnt come. maybe hed ask about her scar, OR NOT, maybe she brings it up hehe,,,,,, is vulnerable about how insecure she feels about her appearance and hed say something sweet back. :) maybe be a little cheeky about how he loves seeing her patterns more visibly in that revealing of a dress shes wearing!!! 🙈 in a polite way. shed maybe finally have the time to ask why he dropped out of starfleet, shed talk about her own career (idk if 25 is still academy age…) stuff like that!!! but i figure they pick up pen paling each other again after this!!!! bc shes on starships now and hes either home or visiting planets for work.

figure they hang out sometimes while she has time inbetween missions. hes a bit of a geek/nerd combo, she complains about her family a lot with him, she asks him about his projects, stuff she doesnt understand but he lights up about it in a way she maybe envies she wishes she had his passion about something. she visits his house in ireland a lot and has a foundation of fondness toward the country ingrained in her from her mother. ummmm maybe she has an apartment in san Francisco, but she stays over there sometimes to get away from her work. potentially hes the one she confides in about what shes seen and done. 🤷

next thing that happens thats kinda Altering the norm for them is that philippa’s captain betrays starfleet and shes ordered into extended medical leave after being forcefully augmented by her captain. i gotta mention like, philippa and captain sh'eraz have been working together for a bit, their last mission as a captain and XO was to retrieve this lost/dead warship aka the Vesuvius that was stolen by augments early on into starfleet's history and subsequently altered/enhanced. it's kinda a lost relic of a ship, but its augmentations have been a quiet looming threat that starfleet has wanted to obtain and CONTAIN.

but captain sh'eraz augments philippa before escaping capture. (shes either like, with some augments or romulans or something idk yet lol) ANYWAY philippa cant go to Jace during this time bc her augmented and in general thoughts are exceptionally difficult to be around as a telepath, her family isnt an option for her (stubborn?? theyre overwhelmjng to her and shes like, augmented and lashes out and keeps crying all the time, she doesnt want anyone to see her in this state tbh) i think shed end up going to JJ’s for a bit and he offers to take her off world to the planet he’s doing engineering work on. its swampy kinda similar to the planet she was born on. it takes her some time to come to terms with her circumstances, she may never get better, she may be stuck like this and never be allowed back into starfleet, and i think jj would help her with maybe seeing a bigger picture of helping people or something idk. her augmented brain for a while kinda has a knack for equations and blue printing and problem solving so they work on engineering jobs together that shed never have been able to have helped on prior to the augmentation. i figure she gradually learns to relax and let her body heal, eventuslly she starts regressing both mentally and physically back into her old state. like to think she picks up swimming as a hobby, something she never indulged all too frequently before, but shes getting more in touch with her amphibious tendencies while here. eventually they finish their work on the planet and go back, and philippa continues her recovery on earth.

for a time she’s still not 100% back to recovery but shes calmed down and she sees her family and can manage seeing jace now without being mentally A LOT for her betazoid friend. i figure around this time, kathryn is sticking her nose in the revival project for the Vesuvius (or maybe overseeing it?) which is the ancient starship philippa retrieved. thought that she might discreetly recruit JJ to work on the project, not disclosing anything to philippa though. reasoning behind why he gets involved being his experience working with older dated systems and starships, theyre trying to figure out how to deal with the augmentations built into the old ship.

EVENTUALLY, revival project finishes, peppa's probably tried to squeeze information out of her mother and friend for a while but it hasnt worked. Philippa returns to starfleet after her extended medical leave and gets promoted to captain and given the Vesuvius as a new experimental ship, the Legacy.

JJ is given a field commission for a bit, im thinking lieutenant? 🤔 aboard the Legacy to make sure the transition is seamless and nothing breaks, so him and philippa get some time to actually work together in starfleet. :) their overarching goal is to find and aprehend captain sh’eraz but as is the case with most starfleet things, they get caught up in side quests along the way lol. one thing of note for me during this time is like, the Legacy is full of surprises, things missed in its inspection and revival process. philippa had a weeeird intuitive knack for dealing with the augmented stuff on the ship, likely a phantom limb type vibe from her augmentation. she tries to play it down how instinctively she knows how things should work, likely confides in JJ that its something shes dealing with and playing down. as the chief engineer(?) he can kinda go with it, but theyre very “need to know” with each other about the augment stuff. i can imagine a lot of their adventures involve the Legacy doing something augmented and weird and unpredictable and them trying to figure out what its trying to do or tell them.

i dont know if hed still be around by the time philippa is confronting/pursuing her ex-captain, maybe they get the hang of the Legacy eventually and he goes home, new chief engineer comes on in his stead. i kinda want ummmm philippa alone and a little wet cat a and a little obsessed with her mission without much support surrounding her. :3c i also just think theyd pick up writing to each other again and shed miss having him around, so it gives room for THAT. but moidrah sh’eraz gets either captured or killed (idk whats more poignant yet lol) and i think its be traumatic and shes return home to earth and MAYBE see jj and be defeated and cry about it lalala its vague in my head rn.

lifes goes on, hes still doing civil engineer things, shes still captaining the Legacy,,,,, ummmmmm they maybe sleep together one time and MAYBE she gets pregnant…… im still so iffy on that one lmao go read this post for this mess of an idea involving how philipp maybe gets TWO kids 🙈

figurrreeeee not long after THAT ^^^^^ she passes on the Legacy to a new captain and is given command of a galaxy class ship (maybe the Elysium??????) which she never thought shed see herself captaining lmao. idk if those classes are still around for families,,,,,, but i figure shed do something way less dangerous and slower while shes ummmmm maybe pregnant and raising a weird moth alien baby. with jj maybe hahaha. theyre figuring it out THIS AREAS STILL ROUGH FOR ME GET BACK TO ME ON IT LOLOLOL. whether or not hes field commissioned again idk!!! maybe hes training engineers 🤷

but thats all i got so far hahaha :)

[twopoppies]

I know we should ignore these things, but I like debunking them. So, the article about Harry and Yan Yan Chan originally came from Woman’s Day in Australia, which is bottom of the barrel. Not like other tabloids are better but Woman’s Day will literally say whatever.

I searched her name on Twitter just to see if maybe they got a tip from somewhere, cause it seemed random, there are very few tweets with her name, but I found two from a hardcore Harrie who tweeted in early March that she knew they were hooking up (lol) and that she had confirmation four days ago (double lol).

In the second tweet, a friend replies “how do we know?” and she says that Pip Edwards (another Australian influencer) works with her sister and told her they were hooking up casually in the US and that Yan Yan was at two of his shows in Australia (Perth and Sydney) and they had breakfast together. She didn’t give a source for this last part (I presume she was spotted at the Sydney show because the article says the same). The fan says “apparently” about the shows and the breakfast.

So I went to Yan Yan’s instagram to track if it would even be possible for her and Harry to have hooked up in the US (I obviously don’t believe it, but would the narrative fit?)

Well, Harry was “dating” O until November, correct? Yan Yan was in New York until early November, then she went to a Chanel event in Miami for a few days, then back to NYC until early December. She posted almost every day, tagged her locations and the captions are like “today I took a stroll” or “finally arrived in Miami.” Harry was in LA the entirety of November with his residency, until very late November when he went to his Latin American leg of tour, which finished in mid December. So no cigar there.

Yan Yan then went to the Cayman Islands in early December and back to New York. Harry did a pit stop in LA after Brazil (AFTER Yan Yan was back in NYC), then straight to London, where he stayed until late January, then flew to LA for the postponed shows and the Grammys. Yan Yan went to Australia in mid January and has been there ever since.

Harry followed Yan Yan in 2020, so maybe they hooked up before O? Wrong, Yan Yan was in a relationship with Nathan Jolliffe, ever since 2017, they broke up in July 2022. So either they’re gonna go with “they cheated”, they’re gonna wipe Yan Yan’s social media to make them meeting plausible, or it’s just a het Harrie who wants them to be together (she’s seriously super weird about it), probably because she’s Australian and wants him to date a fellow Aussie 🥴, who tipped off Woman’s Day, and Daily Mail picked it up.

Honestly, tho, part of me hopes that if they’re gonna give Harry another beard, it’s at least a woman of color lmao, I seriously can’t stand Brad and I’m (no offense) tired of white blonde women. I hope he doesn’t have to for a while, O was exhausting. But I’m ngl the amount of ridiculous rumors Australians made up about him hooking up with random women in their periods, I’m like “oh god maybe a beard would be better” 😭 but ik that’s selfish cause he’d have to actually do something with a beard

LOLLLLL! Bless you for the patience it took to look through her IG and compare their schedules. 😅😅😅 The whole thing is so stupid. And yeah, I agree with you about at least it’s a WOC. The same thing happened with Kiko Mizuhara when he was in Japan a few years ago and it obviously was fake (she even said she’d never met him when the rumors were first spread). But the rumors were non stop about them until the article came out denying it.

I just wish everyone would ignore this stuff. When they want us to know, we know. Like, fucking holivia was splashed everywhere. It wasn’t leaked by some random clout chasing harries.

[bunnytalksf1]

Bunny!!!! BORTOLETO IS IN!!!!!! I start watching f1 again because of a Satosugu fanfic and a Brazilian gets a spot on the grid since 2017??? ITS ALL CONECTEDD lolllll

god I'm so embarassed because I basically said replying to an ask ages ago that I wouldn't think a Brazilian would be on the grid for ages and i pretty much forgot Borteleto existed.

But a few things have changed in the last few months to make this possible, that I didn't think would:

He leads the F2 championship

McLaren are releasing him from their development program (their current lineup in f1 is likely going to stay for a number of years unless Norris breaks and retires or Piastri moves, which is looking unlikely since I genuinely believe Ferrari is going to be Leclerc-Bearman, RBR Ver-Law, and mercedes also has a very young driver lineup in Russell-Antonelli), which allows him to join Sauber

Lawson was retained by RBR, who was Sauber/Audi's other young driver option

Borteleto is looking like he'll become another rookie f2/f3 champion, like Piastri, Russell, and Leclerc before him, but I'm not massively optimistic about his trajectory in the sport since as of 2026 Audi will be lead by Binotto, who is recruiting the team from the 2020-22 Ferrari Disasterclass including key strategists, and that team very nearly drove Leclerc from Ferrari and has damaged his reputation near-irreparably. But on the positive side, he has a good benchmark in Hulkenberg, and come 2026, the power unit should be solid.

Binotto could prove me wrong, but Audi is not likely to be a top seat, and I'm worried for the horrors they're about to put this man through lmaoooooo

informal answer i'll probably do another post soon about driver finalisations and market when RB finally announces what the actual hell they're doing next year (my current guess is VER-LAW at RBR, TSU-HAD at VCARB).

:3

[hyuckswoman]

hii im just gonna throw my opinion in bcs !! i honestly dont think the way you write it is bad and i like the slowburn and i definitely can see it there. like how theyre getting closer and everything, a lot of things obviously wouldnt happen in the start before they got to know each other and yeah !

so im loving it, its one of my fav works on here as of now and i think youre doing the slowburn just right ! i think the main “problem” here is that the updates ARE a little slow considering most of the fics are one shots you can read in one go so i understand why waiting 2+ days for an update with 8 screenshots might be annoying for some people but i dont really mind ! just maybe could be a little longer so its worth the wait 😅 and its a little annoying sometimes when it FINALLY seems like theyre getting somewhere and then they just act like nothing happened like damn😓 couldve made a move already

ALSO someone mentioned hanbin seeming shady but i think thats because there are a lot of characters and you cant just be so detailed about everyone so it might seemed like it but its not the case. like when he left her at the park (?) i think.

i really hope this doesnt come off as mean, i actually wanted to back YOU up because i think youre doing the slowburn right and i like it like that ! just yeah could be longer updates but its still all good. my roommate knows ab this smau too because i be going around the apartment like “damn i hope theres an update tonight” LMAOO so yeah keep going at your pace, ill eat it up anyway ! :) sorry for rambling too much haha

duuuuuuuuuuuuuude i can't believe some people view down bad so highly?? first of all thank you for taking the time to type such a thorough answer i really really appreciate it and second of all, I swear i'll try to be quicker with the updates but i'll admit it's kinda tough sometimes since exam season is approaching but I'll do my best so you guys can enjoy down bad fully lolllll and i'll also try to make the chapters longer (since i only recently discovered that on pc you can upload more than ten images loll)

I admit at first i was kinda confused on how long this was supposed to take as other smaus on here took like a couple of months to be completed but i ended up taking soooooo much longer and about them not acting on it, don't you worry i kinda rearranged the chapters and we are soon entering their era where they realize they have feelings for one another lolll

about hanbin's character, i basically just needed an excuse to make y/n and jeno have some alone time but i think it's kinda fun how some of you are reading into it and speculating and stuff

also this did not come off as mean AT ALL i literally wanted to sob reading this you're much too nice and i'm glad you enjoy reading down bad and thank you for reading my posts even though they're not story updates lollll

anyway all of that to say thank you soooooo much i really appreciate you and people's feedback like it really doesn't go unnoticed and i really try my best to take everything into consideration!! have a great day/night/morning to you anonnn

[thunderheadfred]

Life stuff update!

Haven't posted about this first bit anywhere because... wow personal, but it's been a majority chunk of life lately.

Husband put in his notice at his current teaching job a while back. He's been working there for 8 years and is supposedly one of their most valued teachers, yet he barely takes home $100 more per paycheck than when he started. Plus our insurance is insane, taking most of his check every month whilst covering literally fucking nothing (we are still paying off my doctor-ordered biopsy!). PLUS his commute is fucking ludicrous - in the winter he regularly drives over 3 hours a day to a shit job that doesn't pay anything. I barely see him for a hour or two each day during the school year.

Bio clock is ticking, just saying. Never really had that baby-wanting impulse until very recently, and there was absolutely zero possibility of us starting a family while he's at this job. No money, no time, no medical support.

So. Bye. After talking to a therapist to help us through the plunge, we finally decided enough was enough.

He doesn't have another job lined up after summer school, so in August we have zero certain income. Neither off us is particularly panicked about this; the hiring wave for fall teaching positions has yet to happen, and there are several things he can do even if he can't find a full-time job at a local district.

What's looking most likely is actually that he'll juggle part-time jobs for a while. Subbing or other work at a district he's interested in will help him get a foot in the door, meanwhile an afternoon or weekend cashier job at the co-op down the street (where I used to work) has some distinct benefits. First off, he could WALK to work, and the co-op offers higher hourly rates and better promotional opportunities than his current "salaried" teaching job. Add on a big discount at the place where we buy most of our groceries anyway...

Anyway. That's been a lot.

Meanwhile I've been doing the housewife thing. Which actually entails more than just "chores" - I've been doing a huuuuge amount of work on my mental and physical health. I've lost 40 pounds (with 60+ to go) and have completely changed my eating, which has helped immeasurably with CFS, Depression, and life in general. I've started socializing again after years of serious, life-altering anxiety. Basically, I'm getting my life back. Or maybe getting my life for the first time? I was so mentally ill for so long that this really feels like the first time I've been genuinely balanced... maybe ever?

Whether that new peace of mind encourages me back into fandom I have no idea. Fandom social mores seem to have shifted over the years. Maybe it's just the glimpses I see now and then, but the Internet as a whole doesn't seem too anonymous or even like... baseline compassionate for anyone anymore. That's probably a matter of what you make of it, but even so, I'd be lying if I said spending my time in fandom spaces hasn't lost most of its personal appeal. I've been much happier offline, so that's where I've been. I do miss my friends, and I wish they lived down the street and not inside the scary computron. It'd be great to write again, but my interest in fandom work might be over. I'll never say never, but right now I just don't see it. Maybe someday I finally get back into the habit; but it's gonna happen in its own time if it does.

Lately I've been working on my YouTube thing, though where that'll end up nobody knows. It's certainly not a serious money-making prospect, nor am I aiming to make it one. YouTube actually scares the ever-loving shit out of me, so it's pretty much a deliberate mental health exercise. My whole attitude toward it has been "stress less, make more." So I treat it kind of like a journal of the nail shit that has taken over my life (lolllll), and a chance to pay forward all the relaxation I've gotten over the years watching Nail YouTube. It'd be nice if I could eventually have enough subs to maybe pay for some nail supplies or get some free PR or something, but that's about as ambitious as I get.

Okay my fingers are tired

love you byyyyyeeeeeeeeee

[grimmweepers]

wahhh i know i've chosen the worst time to finally read this because you're on semi-hiatus but better late than never right? it was so wonderful to see the first post you made about this wip grow into such a story-rich fic where the love and care and effort you put into it is palpable. i knew from the first paragraph i was NOT going to leave my commentary in the tags because i was going to have too much to say

"Would you beg for him to spare your life like others did? Or would you sit in complete shock, words lodged deep inside your throat?"

just fyi i saved these questions for later because i had an inkling they'd come back around in some way

"He had no knowledge about flowers but he always thought white chrysanthemums meant death, specifically a symbol of mourning, and grief—a flower fit for one’s grave yet you displayed them in a vase to bring life into your room."

this was so interesting to me! because i had the exact same thought when i read that part too!! i love how chrysanthemums play such different roles for each of them. for the reader, they’re something beautiful, a way to brighten up a space, but in chrollo’s world, they’re a reminder of death, a memento mori. it’s such a clever contrast that tells us so much about how differently they view life and loss.

i also feel this gnawing sense of dread every time chrollo notes the reader's routine. he’s carefully weaving her into his own life, his own routine. like i know it's part of his job but whether he admits it or not, she’s become a part of his life too—and that’s terrifying because what will this all lead to?

"Surprisingly, Euan acknowledged Chrollo with a dip of his chin; you mirrored your date’s action, and only then did the assassin respond in the same way."

not chrollo only responding when reader does it sjdhfjkshfkdgdhgkhg

"Albeit subtle, Chrollo sensed it was there—as though a foreign seed had been planted in his chest waiting for it to grow, and destroy him from inside out. Whether it produced the fruit of anger, revenge or some other emotion in the dictionary, he couldn’t tell, all he knew was it took root inside his heart."

this right here was just so wellwritten!!! the slow growth of something he doesn’t understand, so strong it could destroy him. almost like he is being infested. i had to take a moment absorb this

"If anything, it was akin to a bird suddenly losing the ability to fly when flying was the only thing it knew."

LAWDDDD ANOTHER PERFECT LINE. mf is so disoriented by his feelings

"By no means was he insecure about those scars, in fact, he proudly wore them like a badge, to serve as a reminder that the rest of the world wasn’t his friend"

i enjoyed this small glimpse into his psyche. it really goes to show the world hasn't been kind to him, as opposed to reader's life where (i’m assuming) most things are handed to her on a silver platter

“What—What about Mr. Euan?”- okay, i have to be honest, i was so wrapped up in the chemistry between reader and chrollo that i totally forgot about euan until he was mentioned again here LOLLLLL. i mean, how could i not? you have- "That was the last thing he said before he found himself sitting on the edge of your bed, kissing you like he loved you. Did he? Large hands cupped your jaw, eagerly pulling you closer to his face. Even though Chrollo didn’t bare his heart, the zeal behind his kisses revealed the truth hidden in his chest."- right before this and i’m supposed to remember there's another man in the picture? IMPOSSIBLEEEEEEEEEEE

"If Chrollo was to put it in words, the aroma smelled of sweet death, and it reminded him of the church back in Meteor City."

oh i have a feeling where this might be heading, i KNOW foreshadowing when i see it. i immediately felt a sense of foreboding, as if this aroma tied to death is a sign of what's to come...

so i had to stop myself from listing every line i loved otherwise, this would’ve turned into an essay (it kind of already is. FUCK). i have so much to say! first of all, i’m sorry if i’m reading too deeply into things, but i adored everything about this. you’re so insanely talented. it’s inspiring, honestly. i’m completely obsessed with the flower motifs woven throughout. even the smaller details, like “bloom in his chest,” make such an impact.

one thing that stands out is how chrollo’s whole worldview shifts after meeting her. everything he once knew seems to invert, like his reality is cracking open in her presence. are the wealthy inherently corrupt? is she a target or a lover? was this gun going to protect or kill her? are the chrysanthemums symbols of life or death? the fact that everything he thought he believed begins to lose meaning as he gets closer to her is so UGHHH idek the word... just GOOD. GREAT. it’s as if she’s the one force that makes him question his place, his values, and even his own motives. the internal conflict is so beautifully done.

when i read “devotion” in the title i assumed it would focus on her commitment. maybe that she’d sacrifice too much of herself and end up suffering as a result (i mean i suppose that's true) but then, as the story unfolded, it hit me: it was the cost of chrollo’s devotion all along. he finally committed, and the price was her life!!!!!!!!! the way this realisation crept up, only to hit in full force, was just chef’s kiss. the symbolism, the tragedy of it all, the way she gave life and meaning to chrysanthemums only to lose her own life

coming back to the line i saved earlier: “Would you beg for him to spare your life like others did? Or would you sit in complete shock, words lodged deep inside your throat?” it was so worth it to keep this question in mind because when she ended up pleading his name during the love-making scene, the contrast was 💡 !!!!!!!! who would’ve thought that she’d be pleading not for her life but in a moment of intimacy?

honestly, this whole piece kept me on my toes and left me a mess by the end. you portrayed chrollo so nuanced and i’m sure any chrollo truther would appreciate that. thank you for sharing this beast with us!! i loved it

THE COST OF DEVOTION | chrollo lucilfer x f!reader

synopsis: When Chrollo Lucilfer is assigned to go undercover, and kill a billionaire’s daughter, he finds himself breaking the most sacred rule of the underworld—that there should be no feelings involved. The consequences of his actions backs Chrollo into a corner where he has to choose between fulfilling the job or following his heart at a risky price.

18+ MDNI; undercover assassin!chrollo, bodyguard!chrollo, billionaire’s daughter!reader, loosely follows some canon events (chrollo’s past), reader is referred to as ‘miss’, DARK CONTENT, DARK ROMANCE, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort (no happy ending), explicit smut, SLOW BURN, major character death, touches on arranged marriage, cheating, killing, money laundering, human trafficking, kidnapping, sacrilege & blood (briefly), gun use, chrollo struggles with feelings, chrollo has scars, OCs mentioned, not beta read.

word count: 18.6k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. ITS HERE !! thank u to @ljubimaya & @avatarofstars for supporting me throughout the writing process and for being such amazing friends :3 this is different from my usual fics + super self indulgent so enjoy. feedbacks & thoughts are much appreciated ><

Loud music, enough to make one’s chest thump, annoying bright strobe lights, and the sea of intoxicated bodies that passionately danced with one another without a care in the world, Chrollo wanted out. He observed the luxury club with a subtle scowl, gaze sharp enough to tear one’s throat as he watched the spoiled, and rich carelessly sway to the beat of the music—you were one of them.

A privileged affluent businessman’s daughter who didn’t know how to handle one’s wealth so she resorts to spending nights swiping her card for overpriced drinks, and whatever expensive shit the club had to offer.

Meanwhile, the lower class had to work themselves to near death to be able to provide for their families. One, two, three jobs just to make ends meet—just to pay rent, just to bring food to the table even if it meant working for the underworld.

That was where Chrollo fell into the spectrum; fortunate enough to live but unfortunate enough to live a cruel life in an equally cruel world. He grew up learning how to steal, fight, and kill while you grew up having maids cook every meal, a solid roof over your head, and generational wealth to spend.

It made Chrollo sick to his stomach how wealthy kids like you could just take, take, and take yet had the audacity to complain about their lives as if society didn’t favour them at all. He could go on, and on about this whole ordeal but at the end of the day, no one would even bat an eye, plus, he had a job to do—technically, two jobs.

At the heart of the sweaty, inebriated club, you stood there beneath the neon strobe lights, it bounced off the strands of your hair like a colourful aura mirroring your careless joy. Body perfectly swaying to the beat of the music, a half-full glass of a sweet cocktail, and a blissful expression on your face; maybe if the circumstances were different Chrollo would have smiled at your blithe spirit but it wasn’t.

Your eyes—a drunken haze—found his own to which you immediately acknowledged with a cheery wave of your free hand.

It only took a split second for Chrollo to mask the obvious scowl on his face with a sickly saccharine smile—one that made his gut twist with disgust—he returned the gesture with a dip of his chin paired with raising a glass of water in the air as if to make a toast. Chrollo’s expression fell the minute you turned away, unceremoniously slouching back into the leathered booth you’ve booked beforehand, he let out a deep sigh, and rubbed at his temples.

Two weeks

It had only been two weeks since your father—Chrollo’s employer—hired him as your personal bodyguard, and as expected, extensive pre-screening was a must before one could securely acquire said role which Chrollo found extremely bothersome despite its lack of difficulty. Though this wasn’t a rare occurrence, it only made sense for the rich to hire a skilled bodyguard to protect oneself from unknown dangers.

Obviously, he didn’t apply to be your personal bodyguard for sincere reasons—far from it, actually; Chrollo was here for a task that would land him his heftiest pay yet, even just thinking about made his head spin with immeasurable happiness already but Chrollo figured he’d bask in filthy money after completing the job. He always did.

If anything, this should be a walk in the park for him considering there was nothing more satisfying than seeing the demise of a wealthy brat. But for now, he’d take it slow, and earn your trust ‘til the right time comes; where his mask falls, and true motives come to light.

Where the last thing the assassin would receive from you was a look of pure horror much like his previous targets. Would you beg for him to spare your life like others did? Or would you sit in complete shock, words lodged deep inside your throat?

These thoughts immediately dissipated at the call of his name; a few feet away, you stumbled your way towards the booth, the highball glass tucked in your hand was now empty with only half melted ice cubes remaining. Chrollo stood up, wrapping a firm arm around your back, helping you regain balance before guiding you to the leathered seat, the fabric cool against your feverish skin.

“Should I call the chauffeur, miss?” Chrollo feigned worry. His stature loomed over your sitting figure, back lit with red neon strobe lights, giving him a deep crimson glow. You stared at him longer than necessary before responding with a small nod; the wild atmosphere, paired with your spinning vision seemed like a good enough hint to head home, and retire for the night.

At your agreement, Chrollo let out a big mental sigh of relief—he may be an adept assassin but sitting idly for hours while watching his asset drink the night away exhausted his patience more than one could imagine.

The ride back to the estate was all a drunken haze for you, though, you recalled a brief exchange of words between Chrollo, and your chauffeur as the latter helped you inside the vehicle before, they seemed to get along swimmingly despite the former only being a new addition to your personal staff. Albeit, that description might be a bit too generous, maybe it was just your drunk self thinking but nonetheless, you appreciated the courteous manner between the two. 

“Lukas?”

You called out to the chauffeur, he donned a formal attire just like Chrollo—a black tailored suit—he was an old-timer who had been your father’s previous chauffeur before you were born. It was safe to say you’ve learned a lot from him growing up, and maybe even served more as a father figure than your biological one.

���Yes, miss?” Lukas glanced briefly at the rear-view mirror. “Chrollo . . He’s nice, isn’t he?”

The older man could only chuckle in response, letting your words soak into the darkness of the vehicle before nodding, “He’s a promising young lad.” He glanced at the mirror once again, this time letting his gaze linger on you, headlights from the vehicle Chrollo drove behind poured into the backseat, and illuminated your face; Lukas didn’t know if it was due to your drunken state or from pure sincerity but the subtle smile on your face somewhat warmed his heart.

He took a mental note that you seemed to be quite fond of your new bodyguard.

After safely reaching the estate, and escorting you inside, Chrollo made his way to the staff house. Walking past the wooden double doors, he was stopped in his tracks by a familiar voice, “Off to bed, Chrollo?” It was Lukas, your chauffeur; he sat on one of the crimson couches, one hand nursing a cup of hot coffee.

Chrollo stared at the old man’s face behind the wisps of steam from the drink, the latter donned a rather pleased look on his face, he thought nothing of it, and nodded, “And yourself?”

Lukas returned the nod, “A little later for me.”

Silence occupied the living room for a moment. Chrollo could’ve left the conversation at that but instead, he stood there, feet rooted on the wooden floor, sensing that Lukas had more to say but was debating on it.

Seeing as he didn’t want to waste any more time, Chrollo spoke up “Is there something else you’d like to say?” His voice cut through the quiet atmosphere, he had now angled his body towards the older man. Lukas set the mug atop the coffee table before giving him his full attention, “The young miss seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Chrollo didn’t know how to react to that—even if he did, he wouldn’t have let on.

At his silence, Lukas invited himself to speak further, “At times, she can be quite a handful . . but hearing her speak positively of you warms my heart. What I’m trying to say is, please take good care of the young miss, it means a lot for her to say such things about you.”

Trust? Good.

Chrollo’s rosy lips stretched into a genuine smile, “I will. Thank you.” And with that, he excused himself before heading to his room, the soles of his obsidian shoes produced no noise with each step. He wasn’t happy because you seemed to like him, no, Chrollo was happy because you trusted him so easily—probably the biggest mistake you’ve made.

Though, nothing would really change if you didn’t trust him, either way, you’d meet your demise no matter what.

As the new week rolled around, it was no surprise that Chrollo had already memorised your weekly routine—without a doubt, you spent days in the office but he had noted other destinations you frequented.

On Mondays, you visited a cosy flower boutique in the morning, owned by a lovely old florist who’s cheeks were as pink as the camellias neatly displayed on the counter next to her. You only bought one type of flower—white chrysanthemums, a dozen, to be exact; they were carefully wrapped in a simple brown paper, and topped off with an ivory satin ribbon.

On the way back to the car, Chrollo wondered why you chose these specific flowers, and upon asking, you simply replied with:

‘White chrysanthemums symbolise devoted love, and loyalty—something we need more of in this world, don’t you think?’ 

How ironic. He had no knowledge about flowers but he always thought white chrysanthemums meant death, specifically a symbol of mourning, and grief—a flower fit for one’s grave yet you displayed them in a vase to bring life into your room.

If you were being completely honest, chrysanthemums didn’t hold any significance in your life; one day you decided to visit the flower boutique run by the old lady, and she had told you all about the flower. Oddly enough, you started to grow fond of it.

Chrysanthemums were awfully common in his hometown—Meteor City—and not in a good way; inhabited by untraceable outcasts, it was the perfect hunting ground for illegal activities such as human trafficking, as well as an endless source of disposable hitmen, and assassins like Chrollo himself.

Due to mass abductions, and murders of the people, chrysanthemums were laid out at the church for each victim; he could clearly remember walking down the aisle, a smell so sweet, and minty filled the thick atmosphere. For an aroma so pleasant, who would’ve thought it was associated with such sorrow?

On Tuesdays, you attended your private pilates lesson at 8 AM on the dot which lasted a little under an hour. As usual, Chrollo stayed idly by the entrance of the studio, just at the foyer as the muffled voice of your instructor seeped from under the closed door; this was usually paired with brunch at a local café after, as per your words, ‘a much needed caffeine break’ whatever that meant. He couldn’t care less, he was too busy assessing the layout of the building for an escape route, and potential threats as though he wasn’t the biggest threat here.

The window seat offered a clear view of the street outside, vehicles driving by, people in their own little world as they headed to their destination; not to mention the ample morning sunlight that poured in, allowing you to study Chrollo’s reflection from the glass.

He stood behind you with his back facing the window, scanning the entire café; you watched as his head slowly moved from left to right, then right to left, giving you a peek of his side profile. Your eyes traced every dip, and curve of Chrollo’s face, from the slope of his nose, all the way to the sharpness of his jawline. It was odd how this man—who barely talked to you unless necessary—had piqued your interest. In what way? That was something you were still trying to figure out.

How Chrollo carried himself with silent confidence stood out from the rest of your security team; sure, he was vigilant of his surroundings but each action he displayed was calculated, and clean—too clean. You’ve also noticed how his steps were much lighter than everyone else’s, it made almost no sound as though he was actively stalking a prey. And for a brief moment, you wondered who that prey was.

On Wednesdays, you were present at your father’s company for the whole day. Though, the scowl on your face clearly screamed your opposition; it wasn’t a secret to anyone how uninterested you were in all the business talk—in fact, if anyone were to ask about it, you could probably go on, and on about how boring, and tedious it was, conversely, if asked what you wanted to do in life, you’d probably have a hard time answering.

Alas, as the sole heir, the company automatically fell to your hands whether you liked it or not. Wednesdays were always a drag, having to make acquaintances with investors, and show face during monotonous meetings that rarely concerned you—you’d rather spend time elsewhere.

On Thursdays, you were also at the company but for a different reason. Chrollo only knew you reported straight to your father’s office, and he was often ordered to wait at the ground floor. The meeting with your father always took approximately two hours, and each time, you came out looking like someone had pressed all your buttons.

Though today, for the sake of Chrollo’s own selfish curiosity, seeing as the hallway was deserted, he lingered outside the office for a bit but all he really got was pure silence—either you, and your father conversed in a hushed voice or the walls were soundproof. Whatever the case was, Chrollo didn’t bother sticking around but he was quickly stopped in his tracks as voices from inside were suddenly raised—yours first, followed by your father.

Looking back at the office door, Chrollo heard you shout in opposition, it seemed like the conversation had somewhat turned into a heated argument. Nonetheless, he continued down the hallway—it was none of Chrollo’s business, after all.

“No! I’ve already told you, I’m not doing that!” Loud voice sliced through the growing tension inside the room. The older male—who sat behind his desk—leaned back into the seat, leather groaning beneath his weight as he rubbed his temples at your stubbornness, clearly displeased with how much you were blowing everything out of proportion. You stayed rooted in your spot, just standing a metre away from your father.

“Look, darling, I’ve already agreed—” “Agreed without my consent.” Raising your hands in defeat, you paced around the room, each heavy step muffled by the crimson carpet beneath your soles. “I’m the one getting married to someone I haven’t met! I never even wanted to be in an arranged marriage just because of what—a stupid business partnership?!”

This was the first time you’ve raised your voice at your father; all the years under his care, and guidance, you gladly accepted what was left upon your hands. Continuing the legacy of your father’s company? Sure, no problem, you could deal the burden on your shoulders but marrying a complete stranger?

That was more than crossing a mere boundary.

Your father was a skilled business man, and you never doubted that once—he was excellent at negotiating, and closing deals so for him to stoop as low as agreeing with an arranged marriage for the sake of his company, it baffled you, a lot. What more could he possibly want?

“I’m done with this conversation.”

Letting out a breath you’ve been holding, you turned around, and headed for the door but before reaching the silver handle, your father spoke up from behind, “Next week. You’re attending the corporate event with Euan. That’s final.” All you could do was nod.

Chrollo spotted your rather distressed figure exit the elevator, and head for the car park, not so much sparing a glance as you passed him; nonetheless, he quietly trailed you, steely gaze observing your figure up, and down—shoulders tight, and fists clenched at your side.

You felt defeated.

The thought of spending the rest of your life with a man you didn’t genuinely love, was that really your so-called future? A bond made for the sole purpose of expanding business?

Stepping into the underground car park, you stopped in your tracks, the automatic glass door silently humming as it closed behind you. Naturally, Chrollo did the same but didn’t dare speak up. Click clack. Two clicks from the soles of your shoes as you turned to face your bodyguard with a deflated expression, he could only raise a brow in surprise before you sat on your haunches, and buried your face inside the hearts of your palms.

Oh.

One, two, three seconds—it took Chrollo exactly three seconds to register the sight before him, and he didn’t know what to do; awkwardness settled in the air between the two of you as you sobbed into your hands. He moved closer—taking a few cautious steps as though he walked on eggshells—and squatted down to your level, “Miss?” He called out, his dulcet voice drowned by your soft whimpers, every muscle in Chrollo’s body was stiff, movements unsure.

What was he supposed to do? Reach out, and stroke your hair? Pull you close against his chest? Chrollo was more than sure that doing so was completely unprofessional on his end. So, he was reduced to sitting next to you, silently watching your shoulders shake with each muffled sob until you finally decided to lift your head, “I apologise for acting this way. I’m certain you probably don’t care but—”

Correct. Chrollo did not care.

“My father has been pushing me in an arranged marriage. I kept saying ‘no’ until he went behind my back, and agreed to it. I found out today and I just—I lost it. The benefits of what comes after marriage are endless for the company; more investors, more money, more security but is that really worth sacrificing my shot at finding the one I truly love?”

Saying the words aloud made it sound so silly. Finding your one true love, how naïve, that only happened in children’s fairy tales.

Upon learning the reason for your upset, Chrollo could only nod, he wasn’t the type to console anyone, let alone his employer’s daughter. The last time he could remember doing so was almost a decade, and a half ago during the time his dear friend—Sarasa—went missing.

It was a rainy day in Meteor City, Chrollo remembered hugging his friends tightly, reassuring them that everything was going to be alright even though uncertainty gnawed at his skin. 

He was innocent, and didn’t know better then.

But the incident with Sarasa was what fuelled his pure hatred for the wealthy. Chrollo was only a kid, full of limitless joy, and hope despite growing up in poverty. It was during the height of abductions in Meteor City, and that was when he learned that not even his friends were immune from illegal activities after seeing it with his own eyes.

It was broad daylight, and Sarasa had been forced into a car by two large men—as if one wasn’t enough to take a helpless little girl. The worst part was, Chrollo could only stand, and watch as his friend got taken away with nothing but helpless tears in his eyes, and a blazing anger that burned a thousand suns.

He could still recall the way his nails dug into the hearts of his palms, the temporary pain it felt. The incident haunted his coming days, hearing Sarasa’s screams at night, and how she begged for the men to spare her life.

Chrollo overheard from the Elders that the ones behind illegal abductions were the wealthy, and that night, he made a promise to avenge Sarasa—even if it meant taking lives. It was clear the rich were parasites of the world, greedy for money, and power, leaving none behind for the unfortunate. 

Chrollo couldn’t bring himself to understand your situation, and emotions—he didn’t have to but some odd part made him want to.

From Fridays to Sundays, you usually spent the time out with friends but as the days came, you remained cooped up inside your room, and only came out unless necessary. The thought of isolating yourself somewhat ate away at Chrollo, despite not being able to fully grasp your situation, he figured it must have been a breaking point for you, and deep down, for some weird reason, he was worried.

This was the first time you’ve shown him an emotion other than happiness—which he presumed was most likely out of professionalism—so seeing your distressed state had him rather curious.

Stationed just outside the doors to your room, Chrollo couldn’t do anything to quench the sparked interest inside him—guarding the entrance of your room was all there was to do which ended up with him drowning in his thoughts while standing idly. Even though Chrollo didn’t understand your sentiment, he knew no one should marry a stranger for the sake of business.

Though, Chrollo didn’t have much time to ponder about your situation as his replacement came walking up the stairs meaning it was the end of his shift for the day. He entertained a brief exchange with his co-worker before heading out.

Walking down the stone path that led to the deserted flower garden, Chrollo dug into the inside pocket of his blazer, and took out a burner phone. As the assassin dialled a number, he was greeted with a view of endless greenery decorated with bright hues from a variety of flowers; the floral aroma wrapped around his body like a fluffy blanket. Somehow, the sweet scent reminded Chrollo of you.

The cheap phone rang once, twice ‘til a familiar voice spilled through its speakers, “I’m guessing you’re here to update me?” The male on the other side of the call questioned. Chrollo agreed, and the line went silent, urging him to give the details.

As he gave a thorough update, Chrollo mindlessly walked down the stone path, various colours making its way to his line of vision. Though, a particular flower caught his eye—a sea of yellow as bright as the morning rays decorated several bushes on the ground. While speaking into the phone, Chrollo squatted down to its level, and examined the delicate flower, Bird’s foot trefoil, the small ivory signage before it read.

Two months, that was the amount of time given to complete the job. It was reasonable enough with the amount of security you were surrounded with, and even though Chrollo was the only bodyguard you took whenever you left the house, Lukas remained by your side as well—he made sure not to underestimate the old timer.

Chrollo had never heard of this man before but from what he knew, he seemed to be about the same age. Why the man was seeking out revenge by targeting your life was also something that remained a mystery—after all, Chrollo was only there to kill, details weren’t necessary when it came to an assassin.

“‘M not gonna tell you how to do your job but remember, time is ticking, and I’m spending a whole lot of money on this, yeah?”

Voicing his agreement before ending the call, he took one last look at the flower, and stood up, heading for the staff house.

It was about time Chrollo hunted for his prey.

With the new week, everyone prepared for the corporate event in a few hours—even Chrollo himself, as well as the rest of the security team was busy scouting the venue, and looking for any potential threats around, and inside the building.

Tonight, he donned a sleek, all black look which was slightly different from the usual white button down, and black suit he wore.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, employees, and important investors began pouring in the building; the inside boasted a formal theme with a lavish teardrop crystal chandelier that mimicked the shine of a thousand diamonds, round tables were draped in ivory cloths which housed a bunch of butterfly pea flowers encased in sleek ceramic vases.

Silence was replaced with melodic laughter, and casual conversations between acquaintances, and co-workers as the vast room was slowly filled with more people.

Having arrived at the venue earlier, Chrollo stood by the entrance, waiting for your arrival. As the familiar vehicle rolled around, Lukas exited the vehicle, and opened the rear passenger door.

Expecting you to come out of the vehicle, Chrollo was caught slightly off-guard when a stranger clad in a navy blue tuxedo did so instead—he donned obsidian strands that carefully framed his handsome face, and piercing honeyed eyes that was sure to make any woman swoon.

The assassin watched as he turned to face the vehicle, and held out a hand to you. Taking up on the polite offer, you held his hand, and gracefully stepped out of the vehicle. And there you were, in all your serene beauty, skin glowing beneath the warm streetlights that made Chrollo inhale a sharp breath for some odd reason.

“Thank you, Euan.” You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Euan? Chrollo thought.

With how he lovingly kissed the back of your hand, and from the way you forced a smile, it wasn’t hard to piece together that this was the man you were forced to marry. Somehow, Chrollo felt a tinge of annoyance spark within the depths of his chest—maybe because he was aware of the whole arranged marriage situation or maybe because he was yet in the presence of another stuck up, pompous spoiled person. 

Euan interlaced his fingers with yours before heading towards the entrance, Chrollo didn’t miss the way the diamond ring on your finger twinkled like stars in the night sky. Surprisingly, Euan acknowledged Chrollo with a dip of his chin; you mirrored your date’s action, and only then did the assassin respond in the same way.

The event was boring as one would have expected, your father—the CEO—mostly talked about the company’s milestones up on the podium, he held a champagne flute in one hand filled with golden liquid while entertaining the room with uneventful accomplishments. Though, what you didn’t expect tonight was for your father to openly reveal your arranged marriage with Euan in front of your subordinates, and investors,

“It’s my pleasure to announce that the COO of D&J—my daughter—is soon to be wed with Mr. Euan Heston from Heston Enterprises.”

As endless applause, and supportive smiles filled the venue, you sat frozen on your seat, unable to muster even the tiniest smile. From the corner of your vision, you could see Euan bashfully nodding his head, and shaking hands with those in neighbouring tables as they congratulated him. You stared at your father in complete disdain which only prompted a forced smile from him.

Unbelievable.

A shaky breath escaped your lips before swallowing the raging emotions, pushing them down, down, down to the depths of your core, and as though a switch inside you was flipped, a smile stretched across your face, throwing out thank you’s to those who offered their support.

With the end of the CEO’s speech, and certain formalities, all that’s left was to mix, and mingle with everyone else which—thankfully—Euan did while you quietly sneaked away to the open bar. Although, visibly drowning yourself in more champagne only invited more guests to come, and gush about the weighted ring on your finger, not to mention how openly they adored Euan.

Hearing such high praise thrown his way, you caught yourself staring at your soon-to-be husband; you watched as he gracefully waltzed from table to table, engaging in polite conversations with not only the important people in the room but also with your subordinates.

Euan was well-mannered, kind, and respectful—he was everything your father wanted as your husband but he wasn’t made for you, and deep down, you knew that.

From the corner of the room, Chrollo watched it all unfold. From the way you stiffened beneath everyone’s stares as your father revealed the marriage, all the way to your gaze finding Euan amongst the crowd. He felt weird.

Albeit subtle, Chrollo sensed it was there—as though a foreign seed had been planted in his chest waiting for it to grow, and destroy him from inside out. Whether it produced the fruit of anger, revenge or some other emotion in the dictionary, he couldn’t tell, all he knew was it took root inside his heart.

As Chrollo got lost in his thoughts for a bit, he was greeted with an empty barstool that was previously occupied by you; he scanned the vast room, stone cold eyes darting from left to right, and right to left trying to catch a glimpse of your familiar figure.

Slight panic didn’t settle in until Chrollo realised that you were nowhere to be seen—the feeling began to gnaw at his very bones as the attempts of finding your whereabouts led to a dead end, he even went as far as asking a woman standing just outside the bathroom if she’s seen you walk in but only shook her head.

Wide, panicked steps, Chrollo unceremoniously crossed the room in search of you while almost bumping into several guests in a nervous haze; he muttered out whispered apologies, gaze remaining ahead. His heart thumped loudly against his ears, serving as a mere distraction to throw off his already breaking composure.

God, your father would absolutely kill him if he were to find out that he’d lost sight of you.

But Chrollo wasn’t scared of that, not even an ounce of fear in his body at the thought of your father’s wrath, instead, he worried for your safety; the more minutes passed without a trace of you, the more frustration consumed every fibre of him.

The only option left was to check the balcony.

With a bated breath, he opened the sliding door, a gentle, cool breeze of the night greeted him like a welcome hug. His gaze scanned the open area which—thankfully—landed on your familiar figure, you stood there, leaning against the metal railing while looking up at the obsidian skies.

Relief briefly washed over Chrollo as he let out a sigh but this feeling was soon replaced with red, hot anger.

He stalked over to where you stood, each step heavy with annoyance, “Where have you been? I was looking all over for you! Don’t run off like that.”

The ever calm, and collected bodyguard coming for your neck with such ferocity caught you off guard, not to mention the obvious bite in his tone. With furrowed brows, you turned to face Chrollo, a look of disbelief painted on your face. The audacity of this man. Who the hell was he to boss you around as though you were his subordinate?

“That’s ‘miss’ for you—” You crossed your arms, head slightly tilted upwards as you looked down at him from your nose.

“And relax, Chrollo. I’m not harmed. I don’t see what the fuss is about.” You were absolutely right, and Chrollo hated that you were because he didn’t know where else to channel his anger, if anything, your words doused the flame inside his chest with gasoline, allowing it to expand, and burn an azure fire.

Despite his better judgement, Chrollo let it consume him, “Relax? I’m your bodyguard, it’s my duty to keep you safe, and out of danger! What if something happens to you, and I’m not around, hm?”

Chrollo felt the foreign seed inside his chest grow into uncertainty—an odd feeling he’s never felt before. Speaking out like this, and losing his cool over a situation was out of character for him but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to stop, as though words willingly flew out of his throat, and out into the open.

“Exactly, you’re only a bodyguard. You have no right to act this way towards me. Have you forgotten I’m not your equal?” You retorted, dishing out the same amount of ferocity he had given you.

Initially, you were going to let the whole thing slide, it was understandable where Chrollo was coming from—he was only doing his job—but it pissed you off seeing as how he had the audacity to act like that.

You looked up at the taller man, gaze not backing down from his steely ones; it took him a couple of seconds to hold your stare before breaking it, and looking off to the dark horizon. Though, you swore you saw his eyes subtly dip down for a split second before doing so—you weren’t too sure, maybe it was the darkness playing tricks.

You were right. Chrollo was only a bodyguard, so did he cross the line? The unclear answer made him all the more furious but for now, he’d have to settle for the explanation that he’s your bodyguard, and he has the right to worry about your safety. Even if Chrollo himself didn’t entirely believe this reason.

“You’re right. I apologise for crossing any boundaries, miss.”

Chrollo stationed himself near the sliding door, offering you space to enjoy the quiet night in peace. Now, you felt kind of bad for raising your voice at him when he clearly showed nothing but concern; you chalked it up to the stress your father weighed upon you tonight—the decision to tell everyone about the marriage, Euan being your date for tonight, the engagement ring that wrapped around your finger.

It was clear that Chrollo was still bothered about the whole thing, you could see it from the way his jaw tightened, and the subtle crease between his brows. Whatever. You’ll deal with it later.

A petty argument. That was it. But why did it have Chrollo all worked up? Why was he extremely bothered about it? Hell, where was that useless fiancé of yours, and why wasn’t he looking after you? Questions swirled in his mind, chaotic, and uncertain—now, Chrollo was really wondering why he was acting this way. In his twenty-six years of living, never had he felt this feeling before, it stemmed from his chest, blooming across his body, and consuming him in an unpleasant, foreign way.

The feeling stayed rooted inside even until reaching the estate where he stood guarding the door to your room.

Chrollo rubbed his forefinger, and thumb together while staring at the marbled tiles beneath his feet, it was past midnight now, and the only sound heard was the thumping of his own heart—the rhythmic beat that somewhat got louder with each passing minute.

He was soon reeled back into reality at the sound of the door opening behind him. Stepping out of your room, Chrollo watched as the darkness unclasped your body from its confines; he quickly averted his gaze at your vulnerable state—clad in a flimsy ivory nightgown that stopped just below the knees with satin ribbon straps comfortably sitting on your shoulders. He felt it was rather inappropriate seeing you in such an attire.

“Ahem. Anything you need, miss?” Chrollo coughed into his fist, staring at the darkness behind you instead of holding the gaze thrown his way.

Letting out a sigh, you replied, “I think I need to clear my head a bit . . Care to join me for a night drive? That way you’ll know my whereabouts.” The end of your sentence had a tinge of bitterness laced with it but Chrollo shrugged it off, it’d be no use trying to pick up where the two of you left off earlier.

“I take it as a yes, then? Meet me at the garage.” With that, you walked down the stairs, the thin fabric of your nightgown swaying with each step taken.

Chrollo quickly headed to the staff house to grab the keys to his assigned vehicle. Making his way to the door, he immediately stopped in his tracks as a sudden idea popped into mind—the gun hidden beneath his pillows.

Chrollo stared at his bed before swiftly lifting the ivory pillow, revealing a pistol given to him upon acquiring the bodyguard role. Without a word, he tucked it inside the holster beneath the obsidian blazer he donned, and walked out of the bedroom, heading for the garage.

Disappearing into the night, an odd feeling engulfed Chrollo—he wondered whether the gun on his hip portrayed him as your bodyguard or as your assassin.

Something he has never thought about before because it had always been the latter, regardless of the situation. Nonetheless, the weapon felt awfully heavy hanging onto him—as though it was a great burden that took an even greater effort to get rid of.

The drive was awkward, and there was no set destination; the only instruction you gave Chrollo was to keep driving, and he did, without questions asked. The only sound that filled the vehicle was the low humming of the engine which lulled you further into your thoughts, warm streetlights would illuminate the inside which allowed Chrollo to sneak brief glances at you through the rearview mirror. He didn’t want to pry but it was clear you were overwhelmed with a lot of things.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology caught Chrollo off guard, stone cold gaze looking through the mirror to meet your own for a split second. “Miss?” He furrowed his brows. “For earlier. I said some harsh words as well, and you were only doing your job. So, I apologise.” Now, it was your turn to steal glances through the rearview mirror. Chrollo’s expression remained unchanged—most likely trying to find an appropriate answer. 

He shook his head, fully aware you peered at him through the mirror, “It’s no big deal . . It wasn’t my place to raise my voice. As you said earlier, I’m just a bodyguard.” Chrollo’s eyes remained on the road ahead, enveloped by the night, he didn’t know why it suddenly became hard to glance through the mirror—maybe it was the unmistakable knowledge that you’d be staring straight back.

Was he nervous?

Impossible. There was no such emotion in his dictionary.

“It’s just—the whole announcing the marriage with Euan in front of all the guests stressed me out. The marriage is set in stone without my permission, and I just feel so helpless . .” You watched the outside view go by, dull colours of the night blending into a blurry haze.

“I know the arrangement has benefits. I know that.” It was directed more to yourself than Chrollo, as though some part of you agreed with the marriage.

“Euan is . . He’s sweet—a kind soul but I cannot see myself loving him, spending the rest of my life with him.” The assassin gripped the wheel a little tighter at the mention of your fiancé. “I don’t think anyone should ever go through that.” He cleared his throat, stealing another glance at you.

“You mentioned a while ago—” Chrollo spoke up, deciding to deviate the topic from Euan. “That the marriage would benefit the company ‘more security’ . .” He trailed off, realising how he’s prying but you didn’t seem to mind with how openly you replied.

“Long story short, my father had a very close friend—Mr. Driscoll—in the industry. It was later revealed that he was involved in money laundering so most of his assets came from illegal dealings. My father played a significant role in his arrest—basically, Driscoll was stupid enough to tell my father of his underground ties, urging him to do it as well. But my father had tipped the police instead. Naturally, his son, Ciaran Driscoll—who’s now the CEO of the company—saw us in a bad light, and it won’t take long until he makes my father pay for the damages done.”

“The arranged marriage with Euan would obviously combine our security team with theirs which would decrease the chances of Ciaran, and any other dangers from getting near my father, and I.”

Yet Chrollo was here—an assassin tasked to kill you—who easily took on the role of your personal bodyguard.

How ironic.

You really did need that extra security from the Hestons.

“Ciaran Driscoll?” Chrollo muttered the name under his breath which you quickly caught onto. “Yeah. Ciaran Driscoll from Driscoll Pharmaceuticals, you know him?” He wouldn’t necessarily say he knew him but Chrollo was awfully familiar with the name—familiar enough to conclude that Ciaran was the one who hired him to kill you.

Despite meeting at a deserted location back then—nowhere near that gave any hints of Ciaran’s real identity—one of his subordinates had addressed him by his last name which Chrollo immediately picked up.

The pieces fit flawlessly. It made sense for Ciaran to get revenge for Mr. Driscoll’s arrest by targeting what your father held most dear in his life—you. And for that to happen, Chrollo was the middle man, the one to fuel the chaos between two families.

If he got the job done.

“No.” Chrollo lied. “Just thought the last name rang a bell.”

“Understandable, they’re a household name. Well, it used to be.”

Short silence filled the vehicle yet again, both left to their own thoughts before you spoke up, albeit, it was more of thinking aloud, “I truly don’t know what I want in life.” Odd. Chrollo always thought that if one was wealthy, they’d be able to wish for anything, and everything yet somehow, even with all the gold in your hands, you were still lost.

Chrollo pitied you, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

Hell, he didn’t even know whether it was appropriate to reply. What did he know? He was someone born into poverty who didn’t have the luxury to question himself about what he wanted in life, just having to see another was already a blessing itself. Well, it wasn’t like the outcasts of society were given a choice on how to lead one’s life anyway.

The car fell in another silence but this time it was much longer, long enough for Chrollo to glance at the rearview mirror to see your eyes closed, and head leaning against the window, the rhythmic rise, and fall of your chest indicating the slumber you were in.

It was almost laughable how Chrollo was able to prove his theory right—that the rich were greedy for an even greater amount of money, the obvious example was the ex-CEO of Driscoll Pharmaceuticals, Ciaran’s father.

Chrollo’s grip on the wheel tightened, leather burning against his palms at the mere thought of dirty business. Illegal dealings. It was possible he had a hand in Sarasa's kidnapping. Mr. Driscoll didn’t belong in jail, no, he belonged before the barrel of Chrollo’s gun.

Taking another glance at your sleeping form, Chrollo quietly pulled over to the side of the road, putting the car in park before twisting his torso to face you. Warm streetlights casted a gentle glow upon your features, piercing grey eyes carefully tracing each one as though you were a divine creature—otherworldly, and beautiful.

You looked so peaceful, and undisturbed. Vulnerable.

While his eyes remained on you, Chrollo slowly slid a hand inside his blazer, reaching for the gun affixed by his hip.

The assassin pulled it out, pointing the barrel to your head, the weapon cool against the warmth of his hand. In, and out, he drew steady breaths, forefinger hovering over the trigger—one pull, and it’d be over.

The problem was, Chrollo couldn’t do it.

He has pulled the trigger countless times as though it was second nature, so why couldn’t he do it now? He couldn’t even bring himself to let his digit touch it.

As you stirred in your sleep, Chrollo swiftly tucked the gun back in his holster, and faced forward. Shaky, uneven breaths slipped past his parted lips, the sound of his heartbeat clouding his senses.

Hands balling into fists, he wondered what had gotten into him, mind racing with a million thoughts as he drowned in pure uncertainty. Chrollo stared at his hands—the same hands that have spilled blood countless times, the same hands that killed without a second thought, the same hands that were tasked to murder you.

Yet here he was, unable to do so as if it were his first time.

“Chrollo?” You mumbled aloud. As you peeled your eyes open, you tried to register your surroundings. “Why did we stop? Is there something wrong?”

He cleared his throat, taking a quick glance through the rearview mirror before shaking his head, “No, miss. I just had to take a quick call, my apologies.” With that, Chrollo pulled away from the side of the road, taking you back to the estate.

The ride home was silent. Fortunately for Chrollo, this gave him the opportunity to calm his thoughts, and steady his growing breaths.

Obviously this has never happened before, especially while out on a mission; it made sense for the assassin to lose his cool a bit after hesitating. If anything, it was akin to a bird suddenly losing the ability to fly when flying was the only thing it knew. To make things worse, Chrollo had just broken the unspoken rule of the underworld—to never hesitate.

To the underworld, hesitating meant fragility, and fragility meant that the enemy had the upper hand. He was confused, and conflicted, more so upset at himself for being such a coward—why was he a coward?

After returning to the estate, you softly called out to Chrollo who was heading to the staff house, “Do you want to come inside?” All it took was that foreign look in your face for him to fully understand what you meant.

He didn’t have to assume anything—you’ve never looked at Chrollo with such a burning gaze, full of intent, and vulnerability. God, it was a brazen move to do so but you wished he agreed. All you needed was a little company at the moment.

Something in the air shifted. Maybe it was because you were both stripped of your layers, baring your defenceless forms out in the open. Maybe it was the way Chrollo’s rational thinking became compromised on the way home. Or maybe it was how you oddly felt comfortable around his presence, as though he was a lifelong friend.

Nonetheless, Chrollo found himself inside your bedroom, and as expected, it was grand, spacious, fit for a billionaire’s daughter. Sweet aroma of fresh chrysanthemum’s filled the air but it was nothing like he had remembered back in Meteor City which was laced with grief, and sorrow. Instead, it enveloped Chrollo in a warm welcoming hug, he could finally understand your interpretation of chrysanthemums—devoted love, and loyalty.

Moonlight spilled from the windows, illuminating the side of Chrollo’s face. He was just standing there yet he mirrored the divinity of an angel as soft shadows contoured his handsome face, dark eyes gleaming beneath the dulcet glow; you’ve never been able to decipher the emotions behind his gaze but tonight was different, his stare was soft mixed with hint of uncertainty; Chrollo wore his heart on his sleeves.

“Help me escape even for a little while.” 

Like the obedient bodyguard he was, he nodded. Chrollo took one step closer, reaching out a hand to gently undo one of the satin ribbon straps. The flimsy fabric gracefully slid off your right shoulder, just enough to expose your pert nipple. It hardened beneath the cool evening air which had Chrollo swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing with pure excitement, and hunger; oh, how he couldn’t wait to put his lips on your skin, and devour you.

Wasting no time to undo the other ribbon strap, your nightgown instantly fell to the carpeted floors, the fabric pooling around your feet, leaving you almost completely bare in front of Chrollo.

Your skin grew feverish beneath his observant stare as he traced every dip, and curve, dark eyes gleaming with anticipation. After a heartbeat or two, Chrollo’s lips were on your skin, palms finding home just above your waist; he placed gentle kisses down the side of your neck as though on a mission to mark you, pulling dainty gasps in the process.

You tasted absolutely divine—like a hopeful prayer between his lips, and he craved for more. Soft smacks slowly filled your ears as he praised you with kisses. Down, down, down Chrollo’s lips went before stopping at the junction of your neck, he gave the sensitive skin an experimental lick to which you responded with a heated gasp of his name.

Tilting your head to the side allowed more freedom for Chrollo to explore; hands coming up to tangle with his raven strands, and tug at it urged him to mark your skin with hues of dark purple, and red.

And he did. Gentle, wet kisses turned into rough, electric ones as Chrollo used both teeth, and tongue to nip, and suck at your skin.

“Chrollo—!” 

The assassin could only grunt in response as he carved himself onto your skin like knife on wood—over, and over again ‘til it left a lasting mark. And when you stare at these sinful hues in the mirror, you’d be reminded of the feel of his lips, how his kisses turned your legs into a wobbly mess, and mind into a lustful haze.

Embarrassing, warm wetness pooled on the fabric of your panties as Chrollo neared your breasts, you watched with a bated breath, and keen eyes as he wrapped his lips around a mound—the sinful sight of Chrollo trying to take in as much of it as he could had your legs buckling, you were sure to have met the floor if it weren’t for his firm hold.

You let out a soft moan at the feel of his hot tongue swirling around your nipple, teeth gently grazing the sensitive spot which sent lightning down the length of your spine.

Eager hands tugged at the roots of his obsidian strands, nails raking across his scalp; it was beyond lewd how you readily pushed your bare body into Chrollo’s face—a man you’ve only known for less than a month yet here he was, wicked lips made of fire against your naked skin that melted like ice.

A large hand snaked its way up your front, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and pausing just beneath the other breast before cupping it wholly—the heart of his palm rubbing against your sensitive nipple as he massaged, and toyed with the fat.

Without an ounce of shame left in inside you, you wantonly moaned his name at the feel of his lips, and hand making love to your chest, it had Chrollo twitching in his slacks but he paid no mind to it because tonight was about ravishing your body until no one else could compare—not even Euan Heston.

Chrollo didn’t know what this meant for the both of you after but that was okay because once the night ends, your body would crave for none but him, and only him.

Chrollo let go of your swollen, wet breast with a soft pop, he looked up through his lashes before licking his lips, as though he just devoured the tastiest meal of his life.

Working his way down your torso, he placed chaste kisses down the valley of your breasts, steadily sinking to his knees as he descended further, each passing second growing closer to your heat—where you needed him the most.

Before Chrollo could kiss the intimate spot just below your belly button, you cupped his face, making him look up at you with slight confusion,

“On the bed . .”

Three words was all he needed to understand before standing to his full height, “Jump.” Chrollo ordered. You didn’t need to be told twice before doing so, arms, and legs wrapping around him while he supported your weight.

As Chrollo sauntered to the bed, you used the time to eagerly explore the spot beneath his ear, using teeth, and tongue to suck at it which pulled a few soft sighs from him. His intoxicating scent filled your senses, the sweet minty aroma from chrysanthemums mixed with his musky perfume had you groaning into his skin.

He shuddered at the feeling, the tips of his fingers digging further into the fat of your ass.

Gently laying you down on the pillows beneath, he stared at the serene beauty before him, steely eyes drinking in your nakedness. Chrollo’s stare felt like you stood directly under the blazing sun on a summer day, igniting your skin to the core without anywhere to take cover but you liked it, you liked the feeling of his hungry stare, how he looked at you like fresh meat on a silver platter—a predator, and his prey.

As if to put on a show, Chrollo hastily shrugged off his blazer, mindlessly throwing it on the floor, leaving him with a white button down. He caught a glimpse of your lust-clouded gaze staring at the gun affixed to his hip to which he immediately removed by unclasping the holster.

The weapon landed on the floor with a heavy thud, you paid no mind to it but for Chrollo, it served as a harsh reminder of his real motive, and everything that would happen tonight was nothing but an insignificant moment in his life.

At least that's what he convinced himself this was.

The mattress groaned beneath Chrollo’s weight as he dipped down, wasting no time to connect his lips on your bare skin, and picking up where he left off—right below your belly button.

He kissed at it before wickedly pulling the waistband of your panties using his lips, and letting go of it to snap against your skin. A small gasp escaped your lips at the feel of the slight burning sensation which had you aching for more; it also didn’t help how his hot breath ghosted over the most intimate part of your body.

Though, before you could open your mouth, and beg, Chrollo hooked a forefinger around the waistband, and swiftly tugged it down the length of your legs, wet cunt squeezing at nothing as the cool air embraced its heat.  

Chrollo took his time to enjoy the bare sight before him by placing open-mouthed kisses dangerously near your sopping cunt—on your inner thighs, below your belly button, and the spot just above your clit. It had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, fingers digging into the sheets beneath; what a wicked, wicked man, he hasn’t even properly touched you yet here you were, legs shaking from all the teasing.

Pride bloomed across his chest at the sight of you—the fucked out expression you donned, the heavy rise, and fall of your chest, and the dainty whimpers that filled the air.

Hooking his hands behind your knees, Chrollo gently pushed them towards your chest ‘til you were folded in half, glistening cunt deliciously exposed for him to devour.

A wanton moan slipped past your lips as Chrollo traced his tongue around the outside of your clit before laying the wet muscle flat against it. He expertly rubbed at the sensitive nub, lewd sounds mixed with your shameless moans engulfed his ears, encouraging him to further stimulate the spot.

Your hips bucked against his face, hands flying down to his hair as the electric sensation returned to your body, sending massive jolts of lightning down the curve of your spine.

“Chrollo, right there! Yes—haah!” You gasped as he switched to the tip of his tongue to lick at your clit. 

Chrollo placed his thumb, and forefinger on either side of your clit for better access before moving his tongue side-to-side, across the area beneath the clitoral hood, resulting in a broader stimulation that had you stiffening with pure pleasure.

Looking down at the sinful view between your legs, you let out a loud moan as Chrollo met your eyes through his hooded ones. Without a doubt, ecstasy slowly consumed both his body, and mind with how he subtly rocked his hips against the mattress—cock aching for any kind of contact but Chrollo had to focus more on holding your hips down while you unceremoniously thrashed around, trying to slow your impending orgasm.

As Chrollo continued his torture, it didn’t take long for you to let pleasure consume your body as a whole, and cum on his tongue.

He drank in your pleasured state—lips parted, brows furrowed, and back arched off the mattress; the orgasm that hit you was intense, as though your whole body has been electrified, and the only way to respond was by moaning his name like a sacred prayer in hopes you keep you grounded to reality.

Relishing the taste of your essence on his tongue, he closed his eyes, humming against your sensitive nub in complete satisfaction which had your legs shaking, and hands attempting to push his head away. He gave a few more gentle licks before pulling away, revealing his chin completely drenched in your filthy arousal—Chrollo paid no mind, simply bringing a hand up to his face to wipe at it.

You watched through a lustful haze as Chrollo finally worked on his shirt, each button undone growing closer, and closer to exposing the entirety of his torso.

As he shrugged the fabric off, you couldn’t help but reach out to touch his bare skin—it was pale, fascinatingly chiselled, and scarred; Chrollo’s torso was decorated with a few raised, discoloured patches here, and there indicating the rough past he had. He stared as you traced a scar with your forefinger—a ghostly touch that brought a shudder down his spine—but before you could move onto the next one, Chrollo gently grabbed your wrist, and brought it up to his face, placing a chaste kiss on the heart of your palm.

By no means was he insecure about those scars, in fact, he proudly wore them like a badge, to serve as a reminder that the rest of the world wasn’t his friend.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat or two.

The kiss from Chrollo was different—different from the one Euan had given you during the company event. Yes, the latter was full of sincerity but it didn’t bring warmth to your face like Chrollo’s one had.

Or maybe it was just because of how lost you were in pure lust, unable to decipher even the simplest feelings.

“Tonight is all about you.”

Chrollo shouldn’t be doing this, it goes against his beliefs, and goals—against the very reason why he turned into the person who he was right now.

Mingling with the wealthy, even going to an extent as to have sex with you, if his younger self saw him right now, he wouldn’t be able to believe it.

But what was it about you that had Chrollo rewriting his rules? Why was he so willing to throw away the deep rooted anger inside his heart to pleasure you?

Moreso, what did he gain from all this?—not money, not power, definitely not the justice he sought.

Nonetheless, Chrollo threw those thoughts in the moonlit window—he’d grab them again later at the crack of dawn while guilt eats him alive. Slowly, he dipped his hands below his torso, fumbling with the zipper of his slacks; Chrollo felt your heated stare on his crotch, how your short breaths quickened as he tantalisingly pulled the metal zip down, the sound echoed along with your breathing, allowing Chrollo to bask in your desperation.

You thanked the stars above as he bared himself without anymore teasing, articles of clothing that once hugged his body were now strewn across the floor of your room like unmended pieces of oneself.

Moonlight surrounded Chrollo like a serene aura, an angelic-like glow that had his skin radiating beneath the celestial gleam, turning his hair into the colour of the first starlight. It was hard to focus on his heavenly appearance when sin was right between his legs.

“Do you want me to stop?” 

No, god, no, just the thought of Chrollo completely leaving you high, and dry brought tears to your eyes. Shaking your head vigorously, he crawled atop your lust-fuelled body before placing a chaste kiss on your temple then onto your nose, trailing further down ‘til he reached the valley of your breasts. You let out a shudder as Chrollo lapped his way down, not forgetting to tease at your pebbled nipples by giving them a light nip.

“Chrollo, please . .” For once, this was different from what was usually thrown his way—most people begged for their lives as they stared down the barrel of his gun with pure horror in their eyes, lips disturbingly quivering as they pleaded during their last moments.

Wasting no time, Chrollo met your gaze once more, his face mere centimetres from yours. You gasped as his cockhead gently prodded at your entrance as he reached down between your bodies, he rubbed it a few more times, the sinful contact earning low grunts, and moans from both of you.

Chrollo connected his forehead with yours, damp obsidian hair ghosting over your warmed cheeks, holding it in a gentle caress

Letting out a shaky breath, his cock slowly pushed your folds apart as he inched in. Immediately, your legs curled around the dip of his bare waist, interlocking behind his lower back; your hasty movement jolted Chrollo forward which forced his cock further into the plush of your velvety walls.

He sighed, cursing the eye rolling pleasure sent his body into a pathetic tremble. Though, you were no better, clenching around Chrollo every time he pushed deeper—not only did it test his sanity but it also tested his patience.

He reminded himself a million times that simply fucking you like a mere cocksleeve was not his intention for tonight. Or ever. Rich or not, you were still a woman after all, one deserving of nothing but genuine pleasure.

As Chrollo bottomed out, he held your starry gaze, watching as your eyes glistened with tears—whether it was from the bliss his cock had you under or from sadness, he had no idea.

You felt so full, as though the gaping void inside you had been magically sealed—his cock sat there unmoving yet it hit all the right spots, the ones that had you trembling a little harder, and moaning a little louder.

Hot breaths mingled as the two of you let out heavy pants, he stilled inside your wet cunt, allowing both himself, and you to adjust to the feeling, “You’re so tight—fuck.” You gave your hips an experimental rut at his words which pulled a long hiss from him, brows furrowing together.

After a heartbeat or two, Chrollo slowly pulled out, the languid drag of his cock against the plush of your walls had you whining in the shape of his name. It went straight to his cock, twitching at the pornographic sound you let out—if you noticed, you didn’t let on, you were too focused on the way he moved inside you.

With only the tip remaining, Chrollo pushed his hips using the same pace; all the way until he disappeared in your folds once again, heavy balls kissing the skin of your ass.

You could feel the entirety of his length—every dip, and curve which had your legs shaking, and toes curling a little harder. Chrollo’s cock was slightly curved upward which allowed an easy reach to your sweet spot, and with every languid thrust he gave you, his cockhead kissed it repeatedly.

Hands that were pinned to the pillows were released as Chrollo brought a hand to caress your cheek while the other supported his weight. You leaned into his fiery touch, as if doing so was going to ground you from cloud nine. 

Setting a deep, slow pace, Chrollo’s face remained a breath away from yours—he kept eye contact, nothing but an endless pit of alluring onyx that pulled you further into the ocean of bliss. Every languid stroke pulled oxygen from your lungs, it had you desperately gasping for air, one which only Chrollo could quench by whispering sweet nothings mere inches from your parted lips.

Mixed with breathless sighs of pleasure was the soft creaking of the bed frame which sung in unison beneath the weight of your rocking bodies. The air grew impossibly thick, and hot allowing the sheets to stick uncomfortably to your bare back but you didn’t care, not when Chrollo fucked you into the mattress as if the sun was going to burn out tomorrow.

You pulled him closer, arms instinctively wrapping around his torso to decorate his back with crimson streaks.

The sharp sting of your nails fuelled Chrollo’s drive—he picked up the pace but remained bottoming out with every powerful thrust, causing your body to jolt in response.

You clung to him tighter, legs painfully locked behind his back as he did his best to move in, and out of your sopping cunt. You were close, and despite Chrollo taking you for the first time, he knew—he could feel your body stiffen with each passing second, the way your greedy cunt grew impossibly tighter, making it hard for him move, and not to mention your broken cries of his name so close to his ears that those were all he could hear.

“I’m so near—god, please don’t stop, Chrollo—!” You sounded so vulnerable, so bare it made his cock twitch.

Greed consuming his pleasured state, Chrollo wrapped an arm around your shoulders, deftly snaking it between the mattress, and your back. He pulled you closer, the weight of your limp torso straining against his curled limb while the other supported his own body.

Chrollo cradled your head with his palm, pushing your face closer to his ‘til the tip of his nose brushed your own. Oh, how tempted he was to kiss the very lips that cried out his name as if he were your saving grace—an angel with his hand stretched out to you.

Barely a whisper above the heavy breaths you exchanged, your name smoothly rolled off his tongue. It was the first time Chrollo did so, and god how addictive it sounded; you shuddered at it, his dulcet voice engulfing the entirety of your being right down to your very core.

“You’ve been so good, are you going to cum? To let go, for me?”

With the minute space left between the two of you, you vigorously nodded your head, too fucked to care about the desperation that seeped from your skin like sweat. Chrollo moaned at your wordless response, fingers slightly curling at the back of your head, his nails dragging across your scalp,

“Haah—! That’s right, give in to it.”

And you did.

With a final drive of his hips, you came undone—the pressure that’s been slowly building up finally bursting inside you.

A broken moan escaped your lips, body arching closer to his as you let your orgasm take you beyond cloud nine.

As if you weren’t already breathless from panting like a whore, Chrollo greedily pressed his lips against your quivering ones to capture them in a passionate kiss.

His lips were soft, and sensual, like it was sculpted by the goddess of love herself. He greedily drank in every moan, and whimper you had to offer, claiming them as his own prized possession to keep. Chrollo’s pace faltered at the feel of your cum coating his cock in a warm embrace—a feeling he’s been deprived off, a feeling he didn’t know he needed.

Pulling away from the kiss, he spoke, breathless, “I’m close—fuck. Where do y—” “Inside.” Chrollo swallowed thickly with your legs tightening around him. It dizzied him, the thought of you so willing to let your insides be marked by him without a second thought.

A small gasp escaped you as he gently set you down onto the mattress, his cockhead brushing your sensitive spot. With his orgasm near, Chrollo dropped his body on top of your own, torsos flush against each other as he trapped you with his weight.

With his own pleasure in mind, Chrollo gave short, hasty thrusts, desperately rutting his hips to chase the growing bliss. The only option for you was to lay there, and moan his name from overstimulation; with his weight on yours, you couldn’t squirm your way out of the immense pleasure.

“I’m here—ngh! ‘M close.” Chrollo whispered into your ear, a hint of apology laced his tone, most likely from how overstimulated you were.

After a few more desperate thrusts, he stilled, sheathing his cock all the way inside your cunt, you felt him twitch before releasing his load with a low moan. 

Feeling his hot cum paint your walls white, you mirrored the sound he made. Loud, wet squelches filled the room as Chrollo rode out his high, effectively fucking his cum deeper.

The two of you stayed still for a moment, letting your bodies bathe in serene moonlight. You laid beneath him, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat pound away against his ribcage, it effectively lulled you to the borders of sleep, your heavy eyelids slowly closing in exhaustion.

Though, before you could fully close them, Chrollo rolled off your body with a soft grunt, his cock slipping out in the process. The loss of contact had you clenching around nothing at the feel of his cum slowly seeping out of your cunt. Before you could speak up, Chrollo beat you to it,

“I should go.” He cleared his throat, voice low, a hint of sadness laced in his tone. Though, you didn’t catch on. Chrollo quietly gathered his clothes, putting them on layer by layer until he was fully clothed. An indiscernible emotion washed over you as he made his way to the door, each quiet step taken tugging at an invisible string tangled in your heart. Oddly enough, it stung.

“Yeah . .” You nodded in a daze.

The lack of response from your end tore at Chrollo’s insides—it made sense, after all, he was nothing but a quick fuck, what did he expect? For you to convince him to stay the night? That was beyond delusional.

As Chrollo reached for the handle, you called his name out of instinct. His heart skipped a beat. “Yes, miss . . ?” He spoke your title in a small voice, unsure which name was appropriate in this situation.

“Thank you.”

That was all you could muster. What else was there anyway? Chrollo wasn’t a person you were supposed to be sleeping with in the first place, nor was he your lover who you could be intimate with after sex.

He was nothing but a bodyguard, and will remain your bodyguard. Whatever happened in this room was to be forgotten.

The sound of the door clicking reached your ears, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. His scent lingered in the air, becoming one with the sweet aroma of chrysanthemums.

Within the next coming days, you were right, and wrong. Right because in the face of others, the professional relationship between you, and Chrollo remained—a bodyguard, and his principal.

Wrong because stupidly enough, the both of you had not forgotten what happened a couple of nights back. The days were filled with stolen glances, and stuttering heartbeats, you couldn’t stand by idly while your heart yearned for your bodyguard.

At first, you convinced yourself that this feeling was purely lust-driven, it was only natural to seek out Chrollo’s presence after a night with him.

You believed it for a week.

One whole week until you felt your heart clenching at the sight of your bodyguard exchanging a conversation with one of the maids. Chrollo was all smiles, the kind that reached his eyes; the maid wasn’t any better, an obvious blush extending from her cheeks to her ears said it all.

He never smiled at you like that.

Why was he treating you—his boss—any different? Chrollo was always nonchalant with you, barely any words spoken yet here he was animatedly cracking jokes left, and right like he had some kind of alter ego. It pissed you off.

More so, being angry at the fact that Chrollo treated you differently upset you even more. At best, this was a trivial matter, something you shouldn’t even think about. 

But you couldn’t let go of it, not when he gazed at you the same way he had done so that night.

Within the next week, you’d realise that merely having Chrollo by your side wasn’t enough.

On Monday, you did your best to converse with him while buying chrysanthemums at the boutique, even going as far as giving him a flower from your bouquet, hoping that he’d think of you whenever he looked at it.

On Wednesday, instead of asking your personal assistant to grab your lunch, you took Chrollo instead, and headed out the office which gave you more alone time with him. 

And by Friday, you couldn’t take it anymore. You called Chrollo into your bedroom late at night after finding the courage to do so. Naturally, he stood inside as if he didn’t have you filling the room with your own moans two weeks ago.

The familiar sweet scent of chrysanthemums filled his lungs, taking him back to the pleasure-filled night with you. Chrollo pushed the thought down, deeming it extremely inappropriate, especially being alone with you like this, again.

He swallowed as you pat the empty spot next to you, your vulnerable state beckoning him to devour you. Who was he to deny himself of acting on his predatory instincts? 

“This is . . rather unprofessional, miss.”

That was the last thing he said before he found himself sitting on the edge of your bed, kissing you like he loved you. Did he? Large hands cupped your jaw, eagerly pulling you closer to his face. Even though Chrollo didn’t bare his heart, the zeal behind his kisses revealed the truth hidden in his chest.

Both lips fell into a unison, slotting into each other like they were made for one another. Before getting carried away, Chrollo pulled back, brows lifting in amusement as he watched the way your face leaned in, searching for his lips.

“What—What about Mr. Euan?” He asked, breathless, onyx strands dishevelled, courtesy of your wandering hands. 

You both knew you didn’t have feelings for Euan but saying it aloud wasn’t going to change the fact that a ring sat on your finger, it was far more complicated than that.

Lowering your gaze, you shrugged. Guilt picked at your skin, the thought of disrespecting Euan had you freezing in place. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be prying.” Chrollo whispered, hot breath fanning across your face. He tucked a strand behind your ear before sliding his digit down to your chin, lifting your face.

“Kiss me?”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

What the two of you had wasn’t exactly a relationship—beyond a professional relationship but less than a romantic one. But Chrollo cared for you all the same, even if it meant watching in the sidelines as Euan made his polite advances—kiss on your cheek, a hand on the small of your back, his fingers tucking stray hairs aside, Chrollo endured it all. Whether or not it affected him, he didn’t let on.

Instead, he returned affection tenfold in comparison to what Euan gave you. Your room had turned into a rendezvous—every night, behind its closed doors, Chrollo took you in his arms, and whisked you away from reality, from all the inhibitions you felt. And amidst all the meaningful conversations, the shared pleasure, the tears shed, a bond deeper than one could comprehend blossomed within these walls.

Chrollo became a rock you could lean on—a significant person you could be vulnerable with, and bare your heart on the table, unguarded. He listened to your problems, and silly thoughts with open arms, and ears, stroking your hair beneath the moonlight as the two of you lay underneath the ivory sheets.

With you, he was a completely different person, a person who he deserved to become. One that could relate to the little joys in life—whether it be chasing sunsets, dipping salty fries in vanilla ice cream or looking up at the night sky without any remorse in one's heart.

With you, Chrollo had a fleeting glimpse of the life he was robbed of because all he knew was how to survive for another day—how to kill swiftly, and effectively.

And he’d be reminded of all these when returned to his own quarters in the dead of the night. That the sole purpose of his arrangement in this estate was to take you out—not to nurture a bond with you, not to have sex with you, not to listen to all your thoughts, no. Chrollo was here as your assassin.

To hold you so gently in his hands knowing they would be the same ones covered in your blood. It was almost laughable, it surprised Chrollo how he—a person conditioned to destroy—was able to touch you with the utmost gentleness as if he’s never once tasted violence on his tongue.

Clearly, you both felt something for one another but acting on it was easier said than done—not to mention how this mission wasn’t supposed to end up like this, all tangled up in a web known as you. 

Did Chrollo love you? Truth be told, he didn’t know. He never had the privilege of experiencing what romantic love was. Wanting to be by your side was the only thing he was certain of.

Lying in bed, Chrollo looked over at his nightstand, it housed a singular piece of chrysanthemum soaked in a glass of water—one that you had given him earlier this week. Now, his room smelled just like yours, the flower’s sweet aroma lingering in the air.

It helped Chrollo sleep a little better; smelling its familiar scent tricked his mind into thinking he slept in your presence.

A little over a week.

That was how much time Chrollo had left to get the job done assigned by Ciaran. It wasn’t long, and he knew he had to make the decision soon but not before taking a gamble.

As Saturday arrived, you stuck to your routine as usual, the only difference was, the late night was spent driving around with Chrollo.

The atmosphere inside the vehicle grew thicker by the minute, he could tell something weighed your mind from the way you pursed your lips, and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. But of course, the ever polite man he was, he waited ‘til you opened up to him—Chrollo knew you like the back of his hand, whenever things bothered you to an extent, it didn’t take long for you to break.

“Can I tell you something?” You murmured above the hum of the engine. Staring to the side, you watched as Chrollo wordlessly nodded his head, stealing a brief glance your way before focusing on the wheel. He took notice of how you sat on the front passenger seat instead of your usual spot.

Looking out the window, you spoke up, “I . . don’t know how to deal with all this.” Chrollo remained silent, urging you to continue. “I’m going to be married to a man I don’t love, and I’ll be running a company I don’t want. And us. I want you, Chrollo, I really do but I . .”

Chrollo’s grip tightened around the wheel.

“Why don’t we just run away, and leave all this behind? We can build a new life together and—” 

“Is that what you want? To run away with me?” Chrollo cut you off. Coming to a full stop at the red lights, he turned to you, the seriousness in his expression made you somewhat nervous.

Would it be foolish of him to comfort you with words he partially meant?—words that would only hurt you in the end?

“I can give you that.”

At this point, Chrollo was lying to himself. To be so brazen, and accept running away with you knowing well enough his neck was chained to the underground—loyal to his roots.

Weighing the options, it was crystal clear that the odds were against the both of you. Of course, you didn’t know that, you had absolutely no idea Chrollo had underground ties nor was he assigned to kill you by none other than Ciaran.

Considering the latter’s involvement in underground business, you wouldn’t be the only one with a target on their back; it only made sense for Ciaran to put a hit on Chrollo as well for disobeying his orders if he were to consider running away. It would elicit a whole lot of enemies, and he couldn’t put you in a situation where he was willing to risk you dying in someone else’s hands. 

Living a life hiding from dangers of the world—that’s what you would have to go through if you, and Chrollo were to run away. Did you really deserve to live that way? Did you deserve to live in the conditions Chrollo tried to run away from?

The answer was more than obvious.

Obviously, a life with Euan benefitted you more—you’d have more stability, and security. Who was he to take away all those things from you?

Having never tasted something as sweet as this feeling with you, Chrollo found himself holding tighter rather than letting go, he fed on greed, and delusion. 

Truth be told, it tore him apart. A part of him cursed, and yelled at him for being so naïve, and easily moved by a woman he had only known for a month and a half—not to mention how he despised your kind.

The other part urged him to reach for the unthinkable, and build a new life he deserved, with you. Chrollo was ready to lay his weapon down if it meant being by your side ‘til the end of time.

Maybe in another life.

He knew he had to make a decision. Soon. Ciaran had been making calls to his burner more often than not, and he could sense the former’s patience growing thinner, and thinner as each day turned into night.

Whatever Chrollo’s decision was, he just hoped you’d still love him all the same—forgive him.

There was one crucial piece of information Chrollo had remembered. On Sundays, you dismissed all security staff that accompanied you, including the chauffeur, Lukas. This meant that for one day, you were completely unguarded, and alone.

Chrollo was unaware of the reason but it was obvious you wanted to experience a sense of independence one way or another.

Nonetheless, he managed to keep an eye on you by using an ample amount of distance—it was a piece of cake, after all, he tracked his targets in stealth mode for a living; akin to a predator sizing up its prey before sinking its canines.

Sundays weren’t particularly eventful, you spent the day alone running around swiping your credit card left, and right until it made you feel a tad better. So when Chrollo had ‘accidentally’ bumped into you at the parking lot, hidden from public cameras, he was aware of how effortless it was to whisk you away from the public.

“Chrollo? What brings you here?”

The bodyguard was dressed in his usual attire, a white button down neatly tucked beneath his black slacks, and this time, he didn’t wear a blazer.

“I figured you’d be here, miss. Something came up at the estate—you’re needed back home.” A lie.

Chrollo observed as the sparkle in your eyes drained at his words, genuine concern rolling in like grey clouds looming above on a stormy night. His heart clenched. Not in a good way. “Don’t worry, no one is hurt.” With his reassurance, your shoulders dropped with ease, the breath you’ve been holding slipped past your lips in a relieved sigh.

It pained the assassin how trusting you were, how easily one could play you into the palm of their hand the same way he did right now. Why?—why didn’t you question how effortlessly Chrollo pinpointed your exact location? The city was expansive, no normal person would be able to trace your steps unless they followed right from when you left the estate.

The vehicle was quiet, leaving room for Chrollo to notice the faint scent of chrysanthemums inside—it was your personal car, not the one Lukas used to drive you around hence the flowery aroma.

For some odd reason, the smell no longer comforted him the same way it did whenever he frequented your room. It made him nauseous. If Chrollo was to put it in words, the aroma smelled of sweet death, and it reminded him of the church back in Meteor City.

Consumed by concern, and lost in your own thoughts, you paid no attention to your surroundings outside, how it grew less, and less familiar with each kilometre driven by your bodyguard. You also didn’t notice Chrollo repeatedly stealing glances through the rearview mirror every now, and then, missing the way his steely gaze housed a hint of nervousness—an emotion he didn’t normally harbour.

Though, as you finally came to, you gazed out the window, eyes carefully scanning the fleeting hues outside as the car drove by. Soft colours of pinks, and oranges seeped through the glass which casted an ethereal glow inside, it hinted at the setting sun, and the darkness that loomed just around the corner. As your brain registered the foreign roads, confusion settled in, 

“Are we taking a detour, Chrollo?”

He wordlessly nodded. You mirrored his action in acknowledgement but the feeling of unease was oddly difficult to dismiss, especially with how deserted these roads were. The streets were decorated with construction sites, abandoned buildings, and old houses that were decorated with wooden planks to seal off windows, and entrances.

A weird feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You caught the way Chrollo’s stone cold gaze locked with yours for a split second but didn’t dare speak up.

Just as your heart started to race, the vehicle came to a halt, Chrollo had parked in front of an abandoned building—an old church, based on its architecture. Its unmistakable pointed roof aiming at the skies above, and stained glass windows marked with angels, and other holy beings said it all.

The building was surrounded by overgrown greenery, and wrecked furniture dumped on the side which hinted at years of apparent neglect. Its dressed stone walls were the epitome of sacrilege itself, littered with colourful vandalism from top to bottom; even just seeing it with your own eyes felt like a grave sin. A forbidden image.

“What—” “Get out.” Chrollo cut you off. For a tone so cold you could’ve swore a subtle shudder ran down the length of your spine. His stare met your own through the mirror for a second time and your heart sank all the way down to your stomach at how serious he was, dread slowly engulfing your body. What the hell was happening!? Why was Chrollo acting strangely?

“No.”

Chrollo turned to face you, still wearing that stoic expression. You felt small under his gaze, it almost felt predatory—no—not almost, it did; you didn’t want to admit but you caught a glimpse of the way his eyes sparkled with sharp, murderous intent.

Swallowing thickly, you crossed your arms, trying to appear nonchalant, albeit, it was more for yourself than for the man before you.

“Not until I get an answer. You mentioned something had come up at the estate, so why aren’t we—” “I lied.”

Before you could question his motives, Chrollo swiftly got out, the resounding thud as he shut the door closed had your body flinching a bit. You watched as he rounded the car, and made his way just before your door.

Opening it, a hand reached in for your wrist; gentle fingers curled around your skin as if you were a delicate flower—a daring contrast from the way his piercing gaze stabbed shards of unease throughout your body.

You pulled away, easily slipping off Chrollo’s placid grasp before helping yourself out of the vehicle. His hand curled into a loose fist as he watched you exit the car with an evident scowl on your face; funnily enough, Chrollo had the audacity to feel upset at the rejection. Never once have you denied his touch.

Crossing the narrow clearing that led to the unsealed church entrance, chunks of loose stone, and dirt moved beneath your steps; you stared at your feet as they navigated through the unstable terrain.

It was odd. Calm, and composed were the last two things you should be feeling in this situation, given the sudden shift in Chrollo’s demeanour, you were supposed to be fearing for your life right this instance despite your blindness to the hidden danger that lay ahead.

Chrollo . . He would never do that to you, right? Upon taking the job, he swore to protect you. But your better judgement screamed at all the glaring crimson coloured flags—an abandoned church in a deserted neighbourhood? It was the perfect set up for heinous crimes.

Out of instinct, you scanned the layout of the building from where you stood, if it came down to it, there was only one viable escape route which was through the main entrance of the church, the one Chrollo pulled open.

By now, the sun had fully disappeared below the horizon, and the colourful remnants the burning star left in its wake slowly faded into deep hues of night azure. Strangely, this end of the town harboured harsher winds with a freezing bite that had you rubbing your arms over the sleeves of your top.

A heavy groan sounded from the mahogany doors, it cut through the wind’s endless howl as it danced with the leaves, and through the sharp branches, interlocking trees in a soft sway.

A chill ran down your spine at the loudness of it. The doors parted revealing a view you’d expect in an old abandoned church—disorganised pews to create a spacing in the middle, antique chandeliers affixed to the high ceiling covered in thick layers of dust and cobwebs, and trash scattered across its marbled floors; by the state of the inside, squatters most likely frequented the building due to its unsealed entrance.

The inside was dimly lit from street lights outside, it poured through the stained glass windows which allowed a deep scarlet glow to illuminate the building. Chrollo stepped inside, the soles of his obsidian dress shoes quietly clicked with every calculated step further into the church.

Foolishly enough, you followed as though a crimson string bound yourself to his—he was acting strangely, and the most appropriate approach as of now was to question his behaviour, and the bizarreness of the situation. Walking away would only prove useless with how far he has driven, and he had your car keys; at best, you could only cooperate.

“Chrollo, will you please tell me what’s going on?” You navigated inside the old building, the scent of mildew, and rotten wood lingered in the damp air, it captured your senses in a tight hold.

Ruby bounced off Chrollo’s inky strands as he stood at the heart of the church, right beneath the stained windows with divine beings. It turned his pale skin into an angry red, and you wondered if that’s what he felt right this very moment, clearly you weren’t far off with how he pierced your soul earlier.

He turned to face you, “I’m doing this for your sake.” For the first time today, emotion seeped through the cracks of his nonchalance. 

Chrollo looked almost sad, you weren’t entirely sure given the lack of lighting but the unmistakable glint behind those obsidian eyes was anything but foreign. For a split second, it was the same Chrollo that spent countless nights in your bedroom; not as your bodyguard, not as anyone else but simply as Chrollo—your Chrollo.

“For my sake? What the hell are you talking about, Chrollo?” Like the vermillion glow that bounced off your skin as you stepped closer, anger slowly bubbled in the pit of your stomach. Chrollo was nothing but cryptic with his responses, and you couldn’t wrap your head around any of them! He had always been a straightforward person, sometimes blunt, so why was he holding back now?

Standing beneath the scarlet light softly illuminated your features, Chrollo thought you looked exquisite bathed in the brilliance of red. Even with a tinge of doubt, and anger in your eyes, you were filled with love the same way the colour kissed every part of your skin.

“An escape from all this . . That’s what you want, right?” With his right hand, Chrollo reached inside his pocket, it took you a few seconds to identify the item in his hand—a gun.

With the way it’s unmistakable silver glistened beneath the dim lighting, you could tell it was a weapon of his own; not the ones registered under your father’s name. You stiffened, and your body ran cold, gaze met with the barrel of his gun.

“Chrollo?” Barely a whisper, you called out his name above the thick atmosphere, each second spent inside it had you desperately gasping for air; whether it be from nervousness or confusion, you didn’t care to find out.

He swallowed thickly, fingers curling tighter around the handle of his gun, trying to ignore the way your desperate plea violently struck a chord in his heart.

“Chrollo please put the gun down! You’re out of your mind!” Panic surged from head to toe, it came in vicious waves, scratching, and gnawing at your bare skin like a vehement beast. Chrollo tried to ignore the apparent tremble in your voice, he couldn’t afford to mess this up.

“Yes, I want to escape—with you. Why are you doing this to me, Chrollo? Why do you want me dead?!”

The third time his name rolled off your tongue, he was ready to throw the gun across the room, and cradle you in his arms while whispering apologetic nothings in your ear.

But he didn’t.

Chrollo stayed rooted in his spot, gun aimed at you, “Remember Ciaran Driscoll?—” You furrowed your brows. Ciaran? “He paid me to kill you.” A shaky breath, that was all you could muster, your mind was too busy trying to piece everything together.

Ciaran. Chrollo. Kill. Your blood ran cold.

But Chrollo didn’t give you time to breathe, steady clicks of his shoes echoed throughout the church as he paced back, and forth, “I was elated when I agreed to his proposal. Why? Because a pompous soul dying by my hands is what I’m made for—” He was calm, and collected, a faint smile displayed on his face as he slowly walked towards you. “Did you know what your people did? To my home? To my friend?” Stopping just before you, Chrollo leaned in, obsidian gaze piercing right through you.

“A lot of you treated Meteor City like some kind of hunting ground at your disposal. As if—as if its inhabitants were nothing but mere animals. For what? The sake of illegal dealings? For more money? Power?”

Chrollo caressed the side of your face with the back of his left hand—the other remained motionless by his side—his ghostly touch trembled against your skin, afraid that if he pressed down any further, you’d crack.

The situation baffled you. Not only was Chrollo blaming you for the atrocities caused by other people, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he was in cahoots with Ciaran Driscoll to orchestrate your demise.

Is that why Chrollo applied to become your bodyguard? To get close before finally killing you off? You felt another wave of dread wash over you. Everything felt numb, your limbs, your torso, your heart.

Shaking your head, you finally broke the silence with a trembling voice, tears threatening to spill out,  “I’m not involved in any of those, Chrollo. Do you even hear yourself right now?”

He did. God. He fucking did and he felt absolutely foolish for blaming you. After you had bared your soul to him every night, Chrollo stopped seeing you in the same light as he did before. Yes, his deep-rooted disdain never left but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of loving you; it was a battle between desire and duty, and he already knew the victor.

The determination in your eyes, you were set on running away from the current life you had, and as tempting as that was, he didn’t have the courage to lead you into a new life full of nothing but danger.

Chrollo would rather have you dying by his own bloodied hands—for him to live each day filled with regret—than have someone else basking in the glory of killing you. At least that way, he’d be tainted by you.

“You’re all the same. Ciaran’s father is proof enough! You said it yourself that he was involved in illegal business—”

“So those nights we spent together . . were they just all part of the act? You never cared for me.” Chrollo barely caught the last part of your sentence as you muttered it under your breath; he watched as your gaze lowered, a wave of sadness engulfing you for a split second before finding his eyes once again. This time, you wore a glare.

You straightened up, “Tell me, Chrollo. Was it all just an act? A show you put on just to get close to me?” Questions lingered in the air the same way dust did, it sat heavy on Chrollo’s shoulders but he remained stubborn—silent. Would his answer change the circumstances? No.

After all, nothing good came out of trivial matters. At his stillness, you grabbed his right hand, trembling fingers curling around the shaft of his wrist as you brought it up to your face, pressing the barrel of his gun to your forehead. It felt icy against your feverish skin, like the kiss of a grim reaper.

Ever so slightly, Chrollo’s brows rose in shock, breath hitching at your brazenness. “Did you ever love me?” A broken whisper spoken into the crimson-lit night, so dainty, so weak yet it pierced his heart without a second thought. It left a gaping hole, as ugly as sin, and no amount of repentance could heal.

Love. How would one define love? Was it the act of sacrificing someone dear to oneself? Chrollo didn’t know. But more importantly, how did you define love?

“Did you?”

Digging deeper into the subject would only lead to the grave of his heart but Chrollo couldn’t care less, it was already six feet under since the day he sought revenge for his friend.

With a heavy sigh, your eyes finally softened, “Of course. I still do.” You felt his hand twitch in your hold, as if he briefly tried to pull the gun away.

Glimmering like the first starlight were tears staining your cheeks, one by one they fell down as a surge of emotions drowned your body; your brows were furrowed yet your eyes looked at Chrollo like he held the cosmos in his hands.

Is this what was meant when they said love and anger were painted in the same shade of red?

In his line of work, Chrollo has never seen anything as haunting as your gaze. It was natural for his targets to look up at him in complete horror, tears welled up in their eyes as they begged him to spare their lives but you—your eyes were full of nothing but love, and adoration despite his gun pointed at you. That look alone was enough to torment his coming days.

“Do you, Chrollo? Do you love me?” His chest tightened at the hopeful glint in your eye. Nothing good ever came out of trivial matters because at the end of the day, Chrollo was nothing but a man chained to his sinful revenge—blindly devoted to the hatred planted in his heart, and it came with a great price.

A sudden wave of red washed over his body, resulting in an ear splitting bang that resounded within the church’s bricked walls. Chrollo flinched at the sound—he’s never done that before—followed by a heavy thud against the marbled floors. It took the assassin one, two, three seconds to register the situation, the violent sensation of the gun’s recoil still fresh on his trembling hand.

The faint scent of iron hung in the air.

Chrollo looked down at the grisly sight before him, gun in his hand weighing heavy before it finally slipped from his absent grip. The weapon fell beside his right foot.

For the first time, Chrollo Lucilfer—the bringer of death—weeped, and mourned the demise of his target. He wailed into the darkness as warm crimson slowly pooled around your head, it resembled a faux halo, a tainted fallen angel.

Broken sobs, and ugly cries filled the damp building—this was the first in a long time that he had heard the sounds of his own grief. Guilt, and sorrow consumed Chrollo the same way the shadows of the night did but no amount of tears would bring you back to life, no amount of whispered I love you’s would reciprocate his words, no amount of cracks in his heart would turn back time.

You were dead, and it was all because of the man you loved so blindly. ‘Til your dying breath, you were shielded from the secrets of his true identity, and feelings, ones he swore he would take to the very grave he dug.

Chrollo fell to his knees, his fingers dug into his palms hard enough to draw blood. The vile pungence of your blood suffocated his senses, despite something so familiar to him, Chrollo heaved and curled over himself, quivering like an autumn leaf in the wind—he looked pathetic; hot tears and snot covered his reddened face as he cried out into darkness.

Every bit of air left his lungs and each breath felt like a chase he couldn’t win. Truth be told, he didn’t have the courage to reach out to your body, no, he didn’t feel like he deserved to do so.

To taint you more than he already had. So, Chrollo didn’t, instead, he weeped until the moon decorated the obsidian skies, until his tears tried, until your body ran cold, and every bit of colour you wore was gone. 

And when the assassin finally pieced himself together, he did three things.

One, let Ciaran Driscoll know that the job had been done using a burner phone.

Two, with the same device, Chrollo called the police, brazenly letting them know he murdered someone, and the exact location of the crime scene.

Three, he covered your car in flames, and fed the burner phone into it; he watched as bright hues of oranges and yellows devoured the vehicle before doing what he did best: disappearing into the night, and becoming one with the shadows to never be found again.

The night before, he had quietly handed in his resignation to Lukas who gave him an appreciative pat on the back, the old timer parted with words that Chrollo knew would remain ingrained in his mind, ‘I’m quite sure the young miss appreciated your service. Thank you for taking care of her.’ 

His heart shouldn’t have clenched at that but it did, and painfully so.

The coming days blended into nights with Chrollo sitting inside his hideout—a dingy, rundown motel with paper thin walls that housed interesting individuals. Completely unaware of the time, his only company was the ticking ivory wall clock above the cramped dining space.

The hefty payment from Ciaran lay untouched on the bed, concealed within a briefcase. He didn’t eat nor drink, not even having the energy to step outside for occasional sunlight, and every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the look you gave him during your final moments, he remembered the metallic tang in the air.

The old chunky television situated atop a rusty console table was what kept Chrollo’s sanity intact.

Day to night, it blasted morning, afternoon, and evening news—to the point of fellow motel goers knocking at his door to complain about the noise—just to keep up with information about you. As much as Chrollo yearned to bask in the memory of you, seeing your face plastered on television followed by a variety of words such as ‘rest in peace’, ‘murdered’, ‘assassinated’, and ‘dead’ didn’t help his mind at all.

At least what kept him entertained were the updates on potential suspects that may be tied to the crime scene; the murder weapon was an unregistered gun loaded with an unregistered bullet, and the footprints left at the scene had no unique tread.

So at best, there were no concrete leads in the case.

Not that it mattered to Chrollo.

Atop the cheap wooden table on which he sat were two things, the murder weapon and a singular stem of a white chrysanthemum. The one you had given him from your bouquet. Chrollo let the flower sit there for days on end until its ivory petals shrivelled into a brown hue—its sweet aroma turning pungent.

Until it withered. 

Until the scent of death choked him the same way his cries did that night—a mockery of what was lost, of what he willingly destroyed.

One month. It took Chrollo a month to finally step into the day, and out of the drab motel room. Brightness engulfed his vision, the sun’s afternoon rays shone as brightly as ever, enveloping him in a warm, gentle hug as if to welcome him back to reality.

He was certain he didn’t deserve kindness from this world, not even the permission to step foot in the very earth that held your body dearly in its grasp as though you were its prized possession.

Oddly enough, Chrollo found himself standing before a familiar flower boutique. With his gaze locked onto the floor-to-ceiling windows, he looked around the inside, as if doing so was going to have you magically pop out of nowhere, and buy a dozen of white chrysanthemums like before.

But you didn’t.

Pulled from his thoughts, a recognizable voice filled his ears, it was the owner, “Are you here to buy flowers for a lover, perhaps? I can recommend a few—” She stopped halfway through her sentence, realising the familiar face that stood before her. Chrollo watched as her face morphed into a sad smile, the cheery glint in her eyes disappearing beneath the thickness of her lashes,

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re her bodyguard, right?” He inhaled a sharp breath at the mention of you, heart violently thumping against the confines of his chest. Chrollo could only nod, anything more than that would have him breaking.

The old lady reached out her plump hand, and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I’m so sorry for your loss. She was lovely—”

Don’t say that. Don’t say it to me like I’m not the cause of her death. Don’t say it to me like I should be mourning for someone who died by my hands.

Chrollo gritted his teeth, jaw clenching at the sympathy thrown his way. He felt sick and disgusted with himself—as if he were a vile being trapped beneath human skin. All of a sudden the sun rays that gently enveloped his body didn’t feel like a warm hug anymore, sharp, hot prickles spread throughout his clothed skin, leaving a painful itch.

“—and the only customer who bought chrysanthemums frequently. Others usually bought the flowers once or twice for funerals and death anniversaries; she was the only one who truly saw chrysanthemums in a different light.”

A symbol of devoted love and loyalty, that’s how you saw them.

How ironic that the flowers you once adored would be laid upon your grave, holding a completely different message; mourning and grief. That didn’t sit well with Chrollo, you loved white chrysanthemums but not for that reason.

“Apologies, I ramble too much.” The owner let out a polite chuckle before continuing. “Well, can I at least interest you in some flowers? What would it be for you?”

“Can I get a dozen of those?” Chrollo pointed at the lively bunch soaked in water, situated just beside the boutique’s entrance. Following his finger, she looked behind her and smiled, “Right away.”

Its petals resembled rays of the first sunshine, the golden hue it wore promised eternal warmth even after death.

As day turned into night with the crescent moon high above the obsidian skies, Chrollo made his way to your perpetual resting place—it didn’t take much effort to do some digging around to find out where your body had been buried.

The chilly wind howled as it danced with the dark, trees and leaves swaying to accompany it with a silent song. He walked down the moonlit path of the cemetery, land that outstretched before him was decorated with tombstones, and in his left hand was the bouquet he bought earlier.

Moonlight shone over your grave as if the moon herself knew the secrets shared between you and Chrollo on cloudless nights. Bouquets of white chrysanthemums decorated the space around your grave, candles that were once lit rested atop the marbled tombstone that housed your full name.

Oddly enough, this felt like déjà vu. Maybe it was due to the fact that you and Chrollo rendezvoused in your room the same way he visited your grave—under a lonely moonlit night where soft whispers, and beating hearts were heard.

Bending down, Chrollo lightly caressed your carved name, cleaning out stray pieces of grass and dirt blown by the wind. He gently placed the bouquet amongst the sea of white, its colourful hue greedily taking all the limelight from the sombre flowers,

“I know these aren’t your favourite but I figured you’d like them too . .” He paused for a moment, foolishly waiting for you to reply.

“. . Yellow chrysanthemums just like the white ones but—” Who was he kidding? Chrollo felt stupid. Talking to your grave as if you were alive—as if he wasn’t the one who brought you to your demise.

The audacity he had.

Truth be told, every fibre inside his body screamed at him to turn back, and never show his disgusting self but Chrollo was as greedy as the darkness that drank the moonlight each night.

He envied the ground like sin, how held you in its arms, cradling your rotting body in its eternal embrace. It should be him. Now, he’d have to remember you longer than he had known you.

Instead, Chrollo was six feet above—alive; tied to, and haunted by the shackles of foolish regret. The memory of that night replayed in his mind over and over again like a cursed broken record, the disgusting thump as your lifeless body hit the floor, blood pooling around your head.

Most nights he’d find himself calling your name in his sleep—he always dreamt of the same dream: you, running away from him in a field of flowers, no matter how hard he worked his legs, he never seemed to reach your body. 

Chrollo sat before your grave and sobbed, letting creatures of the night feel his vulnerability; as the wind howled, the breeze carried the sounds of his cries to the trees, where it promised him to keep it a secret—a story only reserved for the dead.

Hot tears rolled down his frost-bitten cheeks, pooling on the tip of his chin before it fell on the damp grass beneath.

In antique texts, yellow chrysanthemums represented one’s heart left to desolation. Neglected love. It was only befitting for he has killed the very person who grew to love his blood-stained soul because in the end, he was nothing but a man only adept at destroying.

He let out shaky exhale, and whispered into the night the answer you sought, 

“I love you.”

—

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum & @pixelcafe-network !

[vivisviolets]

just a text post for those who see it- I'm going through a time where i am reversing back into old habits of being,- that usually happens when I'm healing, where I'm doing incredible only to then revert back to something- because I clung onto that unhealthy habit for so many years, out of survival but also a strange comfort,, in other words I'm going through a time that I do not want to give power to in calling it "hard"- but I'll just say that today I've had a headache that literally feels like it reaching all the way down my back that I got after trying to do some mild stretching lol.. so my body is literallyyyy showing me that the healing I have done in opening myself up- has triggered me deeply enough that my body is physically reacting by trying to close back down again... also (tw for menstruation cycle for those sensitive for this next sentence) right as I enter my lutual phase which is always a hard shift in myself physically and also emotionally-... especially rn as I've been doing so much inner healing in regards to releasing old habits i was holding onto out of survival... I'm rambling so hard bahaha 🚕💨- it's just funny to me that at this time where i am finally becoming a fuller version of me than i have ever been is the time where i am also entering into a physical phase where anything i was feeling good about is reversed... lolllll it's very spiritually significant to meeee is what I'm sayin

part of me writing all this is (other than this is my blog lol hiiii) is bc i really want to say,, -even with me affirming that it would go well- and feeling so purely joyful at starting this little tarot space for myself- i am still so surprised by all the attention and people who have followed my blog since just starting it/posting my first ever channeled pac a little under a month ago.. like i don't mean to make it into a big deal but this was a big step into something, and it takes a lot at times for me to not overthink everything.. 😭 I"M A MESS. VIVI IS A MESSSSSS- and i really don't want to leave- but i need to just get this all out of my system and i was called to release it in a public way instead of just in my journal... I'm just in a space where i am taking so many steps back i feel- and i know its temporary and I'll probably feel better and more in tune in my usual giving and creative way, but rn i just feel so not ready and scared and not good enough in anything.. you see though???? <---those are steps back. those are the things that can be and should be released. because they are neverrr true.

anyway. yea- i really really reallyyyyyy want to make creative pacs that put me in that joyful space i tapped into a few weeks ago, and i want to share it with the space that i know i have and will reach and i will by-george do good in- I'm working on what i want this space to be and healing my overthinking at the same time and that can feel slow :'),, but my path comes first and i know i am on the right path- and i know I'll feel better and more tapped into my joy in a way that i can share 💗💗 because i do want that, and i know it will happen.

thank you again to those who have found me!!!!!! i cant wait to become even better a reader for you ♡♡♡ thank you thank youuuu

love~ vi♡

[saffronapplemanga]

Tenmaku no Jadoogar: A Witch’s Life in Mongol - 天幕のジャードゥーガル

HISTORICAL, DRAMA

Tenmaku no Jadoogar: A Witch's Life in Mongol by Tomato Soup

(1 volume, ongoing)

JP only. Hopefully, it gets licensed! Please hire me to translate this, publishing companies. The first 5 chapters are up for free in JP here.

Links to my other manga posts here

An Irani girl named Fatima who’s a captive of the Mongol Empire and uses her education to her advantage??? 

Hello, my name is Fatimah, I’m half Irani, and it’s finally my time >:)

I hope you guys are ready for history and cultural lessons! I worked really hard on this post and she’s a long one... I literally just came back from an Iran trip and got some books, took pictures, and consulted people who know more than me for this post (the trip wasn't for the post, that was a coincidence lolllll).

This series won first place in the オンナ編 (Female Category) for the このマンガがすごい！2023 / Kono Manga ga Sugoi 2023 / “This Manga is Amazing! 2023″. I’ve talked about the Male Category’s 1st, 2nd, 3rd place winners. Check the links if you’re interested :)

This post will be broken up into the following sections - What's It About? - Some Background - Representation - My Localization Choices - Story - Art - Culture Time! - Let's Talk Religion - The First Word From God, "Read".

Enjoy!

What's It About?

I usually don't like to go into plot details too much so you can discover the story for yourself. But since it isn't currently accessible in English at all, I figured I’d summarize the first chapter so you at least know what it’s about. Then I’ll summarize the rest of the chapters in a spoiler section for those who are interested. That way, we can all be informed enough to discuss it. I might touch on themes or other things outside the first chapter in the discussion, but I’ll try to do it in a way that doesn’t spoil for those of you who want to wait and read it for yourselves.

Chapter 1

We kick off with a rather poetic reference to scholars using geometry to measure the earth and the idea of trying to quantify fate. In 13th-century Iran/Persia, in the city of Tous, we meet a family looking for a domestic worker. The family is a woman, Fatima, who is newly widowed, her son, Mohamed, and her brother. A slave trader offers her some options, but they are rather pricey. So he suggests she take a little girl, Sitara, for a heavily discounted price. The slave trader asks Fatima to educate Sitara since they are a scholarly family, so she does.

However, Sitara plays dumb to ensure her value as a slave stays low. That way, no one would bother taking her to faraway lands to sell her for higher prices as she wants to stay close to her home to try and go back. Sitara tries to sneak out and runs into Mohamed, who talks to her about why he thinks learning is so great. He inspires her to pursue an education so she can have the tools to handle whatever life throws at her. Mohamed wants to travel and learn from others to find the "truth" for himself. He promises Sitara that he'll write letters to her and his mother, which further inspires her to learn to read.

The chapter ends with Mohamed leaving Tous, and the narrator tells us it was the last time Mohamed and Sitara ever saw each other.

Chapters 2-5

I'm going to speed through the rest now that we got the setup out of the way.

***SPOILERS FOR CHAPTERS 2-5***

*

*

*

8 years have passed since Mohamed left and Sitara has been pursuing an education under the direction of Fatima and her brother. While the Tous army is investigating strange activity near their borders, Fatima shows Sitara some things her late husband left behind such as books and astrology tools.

As the Mongols are closing in on Tous, Fatima and Sitara hunker down in a cellar to wait the threat out. Unfortunately, they're found, and one of the Mongol princes takes a book that belonged to Fatima's late husband. Sitara tries to stand up to him, causing her to be attacked. Fatima takes the blow, saying, "Don't touch my daughter," before passing away.

Tous is razed to the ground, and its citizens killed or driven out and forced to march to the Mongol camp. Sitara finds out that the city of Neyshabur, the city Mohamed is studying at, was also attacked. His whereabouts are unknown.

Interestingly, the Mongol prince was specifically looking for the book he took since his fiance had asked him for it. However, the book is in Persian and they are unable to read it. Sitara meets a boy who is interpreting for the Mongols in an effort to make himself more useful to avoid becoming a meat shield in battles for them. While he can speak Mongolian and Persian, he can't read. But, Sitara can. He asks her to team up with him to help each other become more valuable to their capturers. Sitara will read the stolen book, and the boy will translate. He suggests she come up with a more "elegant" or "majestic" name before presenting herself to the Mongol princes. She steps into their tent and introduces herself as "Fatima".

*

*

*

***END OF SPOILERS FOR CHAPTERS 2-5***

Some Background

Quick disclaimer, I'm by no means an expert. A lot of this is what I know and what I've experienced. I might have to make some generalizations or else we're gonna be here all day.

I feel like I’m about to overshare but I want to offer my perspective on this series. I don’t get to do this often so indulge me please. This background is so you have an idea of some things that influenced my perspective on this story.

For those of you new around here, I'm a Kuwaiti/Irani, Japanese-to-English translator (I speak English, Arabic, and Japanese).

My parents know Farsi to varying degrees of fluency as a second language. I never learned it since their first language is Arabic and that was the language they focused on teaching me when I was little. They usually spoke Farsi if they wanted to keep me and my brother out of a conversation between adults, rude. But I can sometimes pick up on some things being said. One of my best friends is Irani-American (Her name is also Fatimah! It's a ridiculously popular name) and our experiences are quite different, but there's overlap as well!

For those of you who don't know where Kuwait is. It's a tiny little country in the northern end of the Persian Gulf in Western Asia. FYI "Mina" in "Mina Al Ahmadi," which you can see on the map, means "port".

Most of our Kuwaiti relatives have Irani roots and some Turkish. There are a lot of ethnic groups in Kuwait because it started out as a port city that was a part of the Silk Road network. (I actually wanna study the Silk Road more!) So lots of people from all over gathered there. There are afro-Kuwaitis, those with blonde hair and blue eyes (my mom's relatives are like this), those with more East Asian features (my cousins), those with darker features (my dad's side), etc.

The Silk Road in the 1st century, courtesy of Wikipedia. You can see the route going through Kuwait. It was specifically part of the Maritime Silk Road route.

Because of all the trade, you can see the influences of many other regions in the food, clothes, language, culture, and so on.

But, yeah! History is cool.

Representation

I am indeed one of those people who is annoyingly passionate about representation. Like, I could write a whole Master’s dissertation on why it’s so important, but I’ll spare you… for now. More eloquent people have already done so anyways.

As you can imagine, I’m not used to seeing myself represented in media. And any representation I did get, was… well, how do I put this… not great? Bad™ actually. Beyond racist tbh. So can you blame me for being excited? I’m still mad about that one episode of Grey’s Anatomy when that girl whipped off her scarf/hijab to save a patient IN A FULLY STOCKED HOSPITAL!!! That would NEVER happen ;_; like imagine if you pulled your pants off to put pressure on a wound when the gauze is literally right there. I CAN’T, where do I even begin??? But I digress.

And even if I wasn’t a person from this culture, it’s just cool to see rep we don’t usually get! For example, Requiem of the Rose King is fresh in my mind right now, but having an intersex main character is not something I recall seeing. While not intersex myself, nor a noble from ye olde times, I related to Richard a lot and appreciate what the story did. I can see people from other cultures relating to Tenmaku no Jadoogar, or simply just learning new things about a culture we don’t get to see a lot of rep about.

My Localization Choices

There are no official spellings for this manga, so some explanations as to why I wrote things the way I did. Thankfully, these are all real-world names with context, so I'm not pulling nonsense out of thin air. Localizing uncommon/made-up names is... hard... traumatic flashbacks to when I had to look up official spellings for Gundam and Kamen Rider and the client didn't give me glossaries... Literally did research about Sypha Belnandes' name localization being all over the place for this blog post. Spoiler, I don’t think it was supposed to be Belnandes.

It really be like that...

Sitara - シタラ "Shitara". This isn't a name I was familiar with, so I asked my mom and Irani-American friend if it sounded like a name they knew. I wanted to say "Sitra" sounds like something that has a more "West Asian pronunciation" than the Japanese pronunciation in the manga. I was wrong and it's "Sitara" which means "star" just like what they said in the story.

Fatima - ファーティマ "Fātima". Same as my name! It's a super popular name. I katakana-fied my name as ファティーマ, which is the same, I just put the dash that elongates the sound in a different place. Why? Fatima is an Arabic name فَاطِمَة. In classical Arabic, it's pronounced like Fā-dtee-ma or Fadt-ma in Kuwaiti Arabic (the letter طِ doesn't exist in EN/JP and the best way I can describe it is it's like D+T sound.) An Irani pronunciation is more like Fā-teh-meh, which is what my grandma and Irani-American friends call me. In English, I personally pronounce my name like Fuh-tee-ma, but people have various preferences. So basically, I took the Arabic and English pronunciations and katakana-fied it how I thought it would sound best in Japanese. And no one has ever pronounced my name wrong in Japan since katakana is phonetic and is actually pronounced how it's spelled. Wild I know. Meanwhile in the U.S. ... *cries* I have a half-Irani-half-Japanese acquaintance who doesn't put any elongated sound in her name like ファティマ, and it's all just preference tbh. There are also different ways you can spell it in English, but "Fatima" is the most common way.

Mohamed - モハンマド "Mohanmado". This one is pretty straightforward. I think most people are familiar with this name. Also super popular. There are various English spellings as well, so I just went with a common, shorter spelling (manga bubble space is limited after all, haha).

The title, 天幕のジャードゥーガル Tenmaku no Jadougal (this is how it's romanized on anilist), also doesn't have an official translation. It basically translates to Witch of the Marquee. Tenmaku="tent/marquee" in Japanese. ジャードゥーガル comes from جادوگر "jadoogar" meaning "witch" in Farsi. The romanization of the title should actually be Tenmaku no Jadoogar. There is no "L" in Japanese, so it often becomes "R". In Japanese, ジャードゥーガル is "Jādoogaru". Without context, it's often hard to tell if it's supposed to be "L" or "R" so I don't blame them for the mistake. But yeah, that's why I wrote it as Tenmaku no Jadoogar for the title at the top of the post. How do I contact the anilist admins about correcting that? The way my brain is short-circuiting trying to combine Japanese, English, my nonexistent Arabic reading skills since Farsi uses basically the same alphabet, and consulting my Farsi "sources"... my brain can only handle two of the three languages I speak at the same time...

Shout out to Fatimah #2 for putting up with all my questions <3 Farsi has some extra letters that aren't in Arabic and I didn't know about that one...

Story

I’m starting to realize that I really dig historical fiction. Things like Requiem of the Rose King (current read, I'm obsessed), Vinland Saga, Bride’s Story (a priority TBR of mine), and Ertugrul (this one is a Turkish drama, highly recommend!) are so fascinating because we get to take a peek at what life used to be like, especially if the author did their homework. This story reminds me of Ertugrul at times since they both take place in West Asia during the 13th century, and the characters in both had run-ins with the Mongols.

This baddie took out three Mongolian soldiers on her own!!! Well, her horse helped. Horses are great. I'm a horse girl, literally took riding lessons for ~4 years.

I found out while researching for this post that this story is in fact based on a real person in history! Here's the Wikipedia page, more info here by Dr. Jack Weatherford who wrote a book that I'm totally going to read once I can get my hands on it. I think this manga is going in a similar vein as Vinland Saga where the events are real historical events, and some characters were actual people in history, but the author is going to take creative liberties. (Check out Merphy Napier and Philip Chase's Vinland Saga discussions. They're great and Philip has a lot of historical knowledge relevant to that series that's super informative!)

The characters are lovable and interesting. I like Sitara's spunk, Mohamed's thoughtfulness, and Fatima's gentle nature, just to name a few. The relationship Sitara has with Mohamed and Fatima was very sweet. I'm interested to see how the relationship that I mentioned at the end of chapter 5 goes. Also intrigued by the bits of relationship dynamics with the Mongolian characters we have so far.

I got super excited when the theme of "learning/education" came up. Seeing how that looked back in 13th-century Persia which was a hotspot for advances in many fields is so cool! This story led me to do some research and asking around on topics I was familiar with, but not an expert on, and I learned things about my own culture/religion. More on learning and education later. But overall, a strong start and I can't wait to read more!

Art

My twitter reading thread for this series

The art is very stylized, like a chibi-esque style with Persian art influences. I like the contrast between the simplified shapes and the detailed bits. I’m a big fan of inky blacks and white whites. I know all manga is black and white but this one feels like it has more contrast due to the simplified shapes. It's got tons of charm!

The shoujo-esque flowery background, but make it Irani-flavored✨ It looks like the rug we got in Iran!

Some pictures I took at historical sites in Tehran with more examples of flowery imagery. Sorry if the image quality sucks, I didn't have my good camera :(

Culture Time!

As soon as I saw this cover, I felt a sense of familiarity. Particularly, the style of henna on her hands made me go, “Hey! That’s similar to how we do our henna!” While we also do the mehndi style henna (Is that the right term? Help) in Kuwait because of Indian influences due to longtime trade, we have another kind as well. You take the paste and hold it in your hands while curling your fingertips into it.

I had such a hard time finding pics that weren’t the intricate mehndi design ones. I would’ve just put henna on my own hands and taken a pic to show what I’m talking about, but it’s winter and it’s not good to use henna in winter because it has a cooling effect. I put henna on in winter once, and it made me so much colder. But makes you feel nice and cool in the summer! That’s why it’s traditionally applied to the head, hands, and feet, which are places you have a lot of heat dissipate from and it saps the heat away. I remember my mom doing that for me and my brother all the time when we were little during summer.

But! With the help of my mom, she helped me narrow it down. I didn't know the actual name of this style of henna. I just called it Kuwaiti-style henna lol. Apparently, it's حنه قصعة henna gasa'a, and bingo!

It doesn't show super well here, but the tops of the fingertips are also dyed like on the cover of the manga. Love that nazar ring though, so cute! 🧿

This is the mehndi style henna that people are most familiar with.

When I was little, I assumed that henna was made from soil because there are soils that can dye things a reddish color. But it's actually from a plant! The leaves are ground into a powder and then made into a paste when you want to use it.

Health, cleanliness, and hygiene are big deals in Islam. Other than being used for beauty and it’s cooling effect, henna is also used to keep oneself clean and smelling nice. It’s said that the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) utilized henna as well.

I actually didn't know much about Iran's henna culture. When I asked my Irani-American friend whose family is from Tehran (northern Iran), she said she wasn't familiar with any. But like Kuwait, Iran has a lot of ethnic groups. It's also a large region (it used to be a whole empire and all that, too), so there are definitely people who do use it!

Turkmen Iranis, dying their fingertips with henna, exactly like in the manga! My family are Turk, too! (From a book I picked up a few days ago in Iran, "Nomads: Migrating with Swallows". What a pretty title...)

The clothing of the characters also felt very familiar. The cover of volume one reminded me of this picture:

Maku Kurd girl ("Nomads: Migrating with Swallows")

Iran grows tons of fruit, herbs, and flowers, famously roses! Rose water is a staple we pretty much always had at home.

Rose water is used for medicinal purposes and has antibacterial and anti-inflammatory qualities. People often wash up with it since it has a lovely fragrance and makes you smell nice. It's also used in foods and desserts or added to drinking water for flavor and health benefits.

Sitara bringing Fatima rose water. It looks just like this 12th-century rose water container. We still have containers like this nowadays and I actually used one to wash my hands recently.

Faloodeh (Persian Lime and Rose Water Granita With Rice Noodles), Bastani Sonati (Saffron and Rose Water Ice Cream), in Kuwait we say Sharbat Nimil but apparently, it's Tokhm-e Sharbatie in Iran (Rose Water and Basil Seed Drink) Fun fact: Sharbat Nimil means "ant drink" because the seeds look like... ants... and the thought freaked me out as a kid, I never wanted to drink it. I thought my aunt was messing with me but my parents said, "Yeah, no, that's actually what it's called."

Dates! Another staple. Always have some in the house.

These are ripe dates. We call them "tamar". Sweet, delicious, amazing.

These are fresh dates! We call them "khalal". Sweet, crunchy, amazing.

The architecture was also, you guessed it, familiar as well. Particularly the courtyards! It really took me back.

Courtyards! My Irani grandma (also Fatima, I told you it was a popular name...) had a courtyard home in Kuwait too, but less fancy, and she had a huge date tree instead of a fountain. We would play there all the time when we visited. Also reminds me of the houses in some of the Irani movies I've seen.

Let's Talk Religion

I know religion is historically always a fun and totally not divisive topic, but we're all going to be civil and discuss stuff like adults. I'm not trying to convert anyone, I swear. Chasing after people and forcing religion down their throats is actually frowned upon in Islam believe it or not. I’m also not saying it’s a better religion than others or anything of the sort so don’t come for me. It's just relevant to the story and I'm hoping we can interact in good faith, so let's talk.

I am NOT a scholar, this is just what I know and my understanding so please don't quote me. I probably have to gloss over and simplify a lot because there's... too much.

There are various interpretations of Islam. The Quran, to my understanding, is meant to have its interpretations evolve over time to address the issues of people no matter the time or place. Issues faced centuries ago might not be as pressing now, or we might have new issues today that weren't a thing back in the day. Iranians mainly practice Shia Islam, which is also the sect I know most about so that's what we're focusing on.

Islam is the fastest-growing religion. It's also quite misunderstood due to hate/misinformation, AND — I'm gonna just say it — there are Muslims who have skewed interpretations of Islam's teachings. Am I the perfect Muslim and my interpretations are law? I didn't say that, obviously not. But I'm going to call it how I see it. I don't take sides and I'm not going to defend someone just because they identify as Muslim if they're doing stuff that doesn't make sense (that would be un-Islamic and just... dumb imo). But anyway, there are a few points I’d like to touch on so we all have a base understanding.

Many people think that Allah (SWT) is “the Muslim god” but actually, he’s the same god that brought down the Bible and Torah. He's just... God. This is why you’ll see a lot of crossover between these religions. And Christian Arabs, for example, say Allah because that’s just God in Arabic.

Why did God come up with different religions? It’s my understanding each religion was what the people needed at the time. (Also because of the next point.)

Muslims DO believe in the original Bible and Torah, but historically there's evidence that these books have been altered by people over the years. (Again, I'm not saying your religion is wrong if you're Christian or Jewish. You do you.) Then what about the Quran? I’ll actually address that later.

Muslims DO believe in Jesus. We just think he's a prophet instead of the son of God or God.

Cool? Cool.

Now to address some religion-related things that came up in the story.

The part where there is the selling of slaves made me raise an eyebrow since slavery is not allowed in Islam, because, duh.

I did some research and asked around. I was able to talk to my Irani-American friend's aunt when I visited them during my Iran trip last week since she's studied this kind of stuff. She joked that I should save myself the trouble and not touch the slavery topic, especially with Americans since it's... like... a super touchy topic. But this is an important topic and we should talk about important topics instead of shying away from them. Respectfully, of course. And maybe we can all learn something. It was a perspective on slavery that was very different from what I'm used to hearing about from the U.S. She essentially confirmed what I was thinking.

The Quran envisions the ideal society as one in which slavery no longer exists. Since slavery was such a widespread issue around the whole world back in the olden days, (it still is an issue today, but I'm assuming it was worse back then) it was unfortunately unrealistic to try and abolish it in one fell swoop. Again, this isn’t just abolishing in one country or region, but tackling the issue worldwide. So, in Islam, the idea is that there are steps in place to phase it out. For example:

No free people can be enslaved, duh.

People cannot be enslaved due to debt or crime.

You are encouraged to help slaves buy their way to freedom by giving them money to do so or buying them to free them.

If you are in possession of a slave, you should free them.

If you house a slave, you must treat them well.

This last one is just an interesting thing I didn’t know about that I saw in my research and it came up in the story — Slaves get half the punishment for a sin than if the same sin was committed by a free person.

I wondered why then, did Fatima's family not free Sitara and the other slaves? It didn’t look like they had anything stopping them from running away either. Sure, Sitara got scolded by another slave for trying to leave, but she could have tried again and run away. The other slaves in the story seemed like they wanted to/were okay with staying, even though they did wish they could go home and felt homesick. So what’s up?

It's my understanding that back then, it was common for people to take slaves into their families, sometimes even presenting the option of marriage into the family if they were interested, and offering shelter and and education. It was a way to take them off the streets, away from the slave traders, and keep them safe.

Why not just take everyone back to their homes? Various reasons. They might be in danger if they try to go back. They might not have anywhere to go back to. Also, this was the 13th century. It's not like they could just hop on a plane and go home. There's also no law enforcement the way we have today. Hell, even with all the local and international law enforcement of today, slavery is still a major issue.

Sitara wants to go home but has no home to go back to.

Is this ideal? As I mentioned, ideally slavery wouldn't even be a thing. I’m pretty sure we can all agree slavery=bad. I'm not here to argue that. But I also think it's important to try and understand what things were like back then and why people did what they did. A lot of times I see people measure things with their standards that were developed in modern day, with their own life experience. You need to be careful when doing that. I'm sure in the future, people will look back at us like, "Damn, y'all lived like that???"

Perhaps, this was the best the average person could do. Try to protect them and offer them shelter and an education. As long as we don’t live in an ideal world, we need to consider various solutions to issues. So this was an interesting way to try and tackle the issue given the time and circumstances. It’s rather different from what I think most Americans know about this subject.

Did everyone do this? I'm going to say probably not. Terrible people always exist. Plus there are plenty of people who say they practice a religion, but cherry-pick what they want to follow, do the opposite, have distorted understandings of its teachings, or just downright weaponize religion to suit them. That's a whole other discussion though, so I'll leave it there.

I would like to read more about this topic though, so if anyone knows any sources, let me know!

The First Word From God - "Read"

"Slave or not, it is a Muslim's duty to seek knowledge, as stated in the hadiths."

What's a hadith? Here you go. Also, this is the OG Fatima, Lady Fatima (PBUH).

When God first sent the angel Gabriel down to Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), his first word to him was, "read". Education and seeking knowledge are SUPER important in Islam, and should not be kept from anyone regardless of race, gender, social standing, etc. Seeking knowledge will make you a more rational, well-rounded person. Knowledge in this context is broad and all-encompassing. It doesn't only mean religion, math, and science, but philosophy, art, and so on. Literally anything. I hope I don't really need to convince anyone that education is a human right and empowering and all that stuff, so let's keep it moving.

"Isn't that what learning is all about?"

To address this earlier point:

Muslims DO believe in the original Bible and Torah, but historically there's evidence that these books have been altered by people over the years. Then what about the Quran?

Tbh, I hesitated to include this part because people might misinterpret or take offense. To reiterate for the umpteenth time, I'm not saying your religion is wrong if you're Christian or Jewish. You do you. We’re actually told to respect believers of these religions. I swear!

So, yeah. Moving on.

Another reason seeking knowledge is an obligation in Islam is so that you are able to read the Quran for yourself. When loads of people read it, memorize it, and are familiar with it, any changes will not go unnoticed. This is to stop people from weaponizing and distorting the Quran's teachings. And this is why there is only ONE Quran, and not multiple versions (I’m not talking about translated Qurans). Modern-day Qurans match the oldest Qurans. They haven't changed.

In general, having knowledge about things makes you less susceptible to being lied to or misled, regardless of the topic. Unfortunately, I'm in the camp where I believe not enough people do their own research and reading. And again, I don't just mean religion, but everything. That kind of thing takes effort, and effort is hard.

Go read!

You're Still Here?

Like the first-place winner for the Male Category, The Summer Hikaru Died, which I’ve been pushing on anyone who will listen since volume one hit bookstores in Japan, Tenmaku no Jadoogar: A Witch's Life in Mongol deserves to win the Female Category. From what I can see so far, it’s well researched and written with love. I'm looking forward to seeing how this story unfolds and I may add more thoughts as we go.

Volume 2 is due to come out February 16th, so I’ll be tweeting my thoughts on my reading thread. The link to this post is on Twitter here if you want to share it there. EDIT: Volume 2 post is up!

If there's anything else you'd like to see me discuss or expand on, let me know and I'll see what I can do. I'd love to hear what others think!

I await your email publishers, my resume is ready... fatimahhajiasiri@gmail.com

🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿

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If there’s any Japanese-only manga you want me to check out, let me know! No promises, I’ll only read what I’m interested in, but I’ll take suggestions into consideration. Preferably, shorter manga or newer manga with a few volumes out since I like to take breaks from longer series I’m reading :)

[awda]

18+ Sexual Mars persona chart observations 😳😏 BEWARE 😭 This post is so cringe

Get ready bitches. My Aries Venus has ARISEN!!!

Hi muerte babys 👯👯👯 So this post is very um.. NOT PG 13. I know most of you will ignore the 18+ anyway, but I still put it there because I don’t want people who aren’t mature enough sexually to know what these observations mean

ANYWAYS…

I wanted to do something different 🧍‍♀️ because I’ve just been posting Composite observations back to back, which is totally fine it seems to you guys because y’all always blow up those posts (Which I appreciate sm MWAAA💋💋💋✨)

So I wanted to give you guys something different, test the waters yk? I’ve been wanting to do a sexual astrology observations post for a while now, and I’m finally comfortable enough to put my observations out there for y’all! 💕💗💗 Lmk what you guys think in the comments 🥰

VIRGO VENUS

In the bed Virgo venusians enjoy being in control of sex, they find it to be a turn on to dominate the person they’re having sex with. Virgo venusians find more enjoyment in pleasing their partner sexually rather than themselves because it turns them on to see their partner begging for them to not stop pleasing them 😏 They enjoy seeing their partner whimper from all of the orgasms they’re having from Virgo venus. I bet this is why so many people get attached easily to Virgo placements 👀 Their security & caretaking vibe overpowers any other energy in the connection. Not trying to sexualizing Virgo venusians in any way, but just keeping it real 🍵OOH all the people dating Virgo venusians & engaging sexually w them, y’all are so lucky ISTG😩 Y’all are making me feel so naughty for this post 😭 I feel like this is helping me come out of my comfort zone more though so win, win✨

MARS CANCER

Gives mommy kink vibes LMFAO IDK WHY!!! MANO MARS CANCERIANS IM SO SORRY LMFAO! Y’all just give me mommy kink vibes. Like.. I just feel like in bed y’all would want to be called mommy or vice versa you’d be turned on by calling your partner mommy. I also feel like y’all would enjoy more passionate sex, like you wouldn’t like hardcore shit, you’d like things to go slow and be treated as the bottom. Mars Cancerians aren’t tops fs, they just don’t give off that vibe and don’t act on it either. Mars Cancerians most likely have difficulties orgasming. It takes a lot for Mars cancerians to be turned on and orgasm. They’re literally the last to orgasm and most likely won’t even have the balls to tell you that didn’t orgasm. A year would go by and they’d randomly tell you “I didn’t orgasm”. After sex Mars cancerians most likely 99% feel that weird regret feeling after sex. That “wtf just happened?!” feeling LOLLLLL, and if you have something sexual going on w a Mars cancerian, be patient w them, If they stopped talking to you for a couple days or weeks after sex, is not you, is them. TRUST ME!LMFAO😭😭 LMK IF THIS RESONATES CAUSE IM CURIOUS

No planets in 5H

People with this placement don’t usually talk about anything sexual first, they wait until you bring up sexual stuff and then they’ll get more engaged in the conversation. No planets in 5H individuals usually stay virgins for A LONGGGGGG ASS TIME! They’ll be in their late 40s still waiting. I’m sorry for anyone with this placement BITCH NOT ME REALIZING I LITERALLY HAVE THIS PLACEMENT HELPPPP

VENUS 11H

11H Venusians enjoy phone sex. Like just talking about sex instead of actually doing it turns them on sm. Dirty talk is a huge turn on to them too. Talk to them through their orgasm and next thing yk it they’re your spouse ✨✨✨ Y’all.. Beware of 11H Venusians if you wanna actually make them your spouse though. There isn’t really a specific placement/aspect for cheaters, or infidelity itself but.. 11H Venusians are prone to having flings. They usually are attracted to their friends sexually sometimes too.

LIBRA MERCURY

Libra mercuries, y’all turning my Taurus venus on fr 😭 Libra Mercuries are the type to talk you through your orgasm. They enjoy seeing you whimper as they look at you while you’re going through a crisis of emotions during your orgasm 💀 They don’t even have to enjoy the sex really, but seeing someone enjoying their sexual energy, bumps their ego up SOOOO high! They also like having someone simp over them, like say their name during sex 🧍‍♀️

Whewwww this post was so awkward guys .. I’m nervous posting this LMFAO😭

I hope you guys enjoyed this post ✨💋✨ Lmk if y’all want a part two because I can surely turn this into a series too for my Mars & Scorpio dominants out there.. Don’t even say nothing. I know majority of y’all are Mars dominants who like astrology observations like these.

I apologize for the unrelated tags 🥲

® awda

all rights reserved

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

I have a few more winter prompt ideas for the NFL AU! Take your pick or do all of them if you want! 😄 1) This is for any of the snow ones (first snowfall/building snow people or sculptures/snow angels/snow down the back of the neck/catching snowflakes on your tongue/taking pictures in the snow): It's film review day at the practice facility and it starts snowing really heavily. Someone on the team notices and runs out to the practice field to make a snow angel/snowman & they convince the rest of the team to come out and play in the snow. Fluff & shenanigans ensue. Maybe also the team's social media team manages to grab some candid footage of the whole thing, posts it, and something Jake & Ronnie do in the background gets the fans speculating as to their relationship. 2) Building a gingerbread house - Ronnie convinces Jake to invite the team (or at least the rest of the offense/other TEs) over to his place for a gingerbread house decorating party.

3) Secret Santa or other gift exchange/White Elephant gift exchange - A team gift exchange of some kind? Maybe Jake gets Ronnie for secret Santa? Or Ronnie gets Jake?

I love every single one of these, get ready for some classic annie bullet points

okay so with the one with the playing in the snow on the practice field

it's definitely mickey that goes out into the snow first

mickey is baby in every universe, and no one can say no to him

so when he runs out and starts yelling at everyone to join, they roll their eyes affectionately and go out onto the practice field with him

and i think pretty much every snow activity would be taking place lol

snowball fights, making snowmen, snow angels, EVERYTHING and it's glorious cause it's just a bunch of huge beefy dudes playing in the snow like a bunch of kids and I'm simply obsessed with the visuals of that lolllll

and YES to the social media team getting a few vids and Jake and Ronnie being freaking adorable in the background

maybe they're making a snowman together, or Jake wraps her up in a hug cause she's cold

the fans are SPECULATING. someone zoomed in on them and posted screenshots on twitter. it turns into a whole thing.

can you imagine a gingerbread house making party with an entire offensive line?

they turn it into a competition obvs

Ronnie is the judge since she is an unobjective third party (though really she's just there for the gingerbread and probably eats the majority of someone's roof entirely on accident)

and they all try....SO HARD. like it's honestly hilarious.

In the end though, I think Reuben would win. He just looks like a dude who knows how to put a mean gingerbread house together and ronnie cannot deny that his is the cleanest.

no matter how much jake whines about it when everyone else finally decides to go home lol

and for a team gift exchange, i think jake should get ronnie. girl is under enough stress as is and i will have mercy on her in this one regard lol

he gets her one of those battery-powered massage things, not a massage gun but just like a small thing she can carry in her bag

cause she keeps talking about how her legs hurt all the time, and she's constantly massaging them herself

it's a very practical, but thoughtful gift and it makes her damn heart flutter when she asks the group who her secret santa was and jake shyly raises his hand

it's just so sweet and kind and she uses it for the rest of the party lol

Thank you so much for sending this in Indy 💖💖

[michaels-office-hours]

The shallow issue.

Harvey Dent is shallow. And also underused.

SPOILERS!!!!!!

In a vacuum, would you have known what his fate was? No. Good! They did that part right.

In a vacuum would you have known he’s a man with anger issues about to snap after one thing a little too big pushed him over the edge? I seriously doubt it.

Now I will compare the show to BTAS in a few ways? Likely more than seems… unbiased. But it’s more because they actually did the things I liked and I’ll explain that more later. But for now? I’m not saying this show is trash. What I’m saying is the foreshadowing was executed better.

BTAS Harvey Dent was a man who wanted to clean Gotham up, fix the town. And he put that weight entirely on his own shoulders, because he couldn’t see anyone else doing it.

Under the weight, and the strain of seeing just how bad Gotham is? He started slipping, the mask genuinely slips! And we see Big Harv, his anger issues and guilt, and shame, but mostly rage, personified.

When he eventually snaps? These are his two sides.

Caped Crusader Harvey Dent is a man who “Wants to clean this town up!”™️…. Catch the difference?

That’s totally cool!! I actually love that! Having a politician that is against corruption, but is himself corrupt? That’s brilliant. But when do we see this? Having his main motivation be a lie, at least to an extent? That’s an excellent start to a very fascinating character!! More please!

Where is this seen? … well…

Maybe I’m blind? But not very often.

Barbara doesn’t like him. Which we’re supposed to trust Barbara… unless this is a vacuum, and then we don’t know to trust her until the Harley episode.

He acts shady sure, but do many people know how coast cases work to spot that?… bruh I’m talking to the Batman fandom. Of course y’all know. So that one is good. 10/10 don’t change it.

He tends to jump in front of cameras to pledge his case? But that’s the scripted thing of what he “wants” not what he wants or how he thinks.

So we actually see very little of that.

Okok next point.

Caped Crusader Havery is a man with anger issues.

He threw a snow globe at his assistant. That was it.

I mean he looked mildly grouchy at things other times. But not really in a… “oh crap he’s gonna snap” way.

Which- no I’m not gonna help by over diagnosing anger issues. That’s hurtful and unhelpful to those who have them, and straight up harmful to those that don’t. Anger is a normal emotion, it’s ok to feel it.

So he has one instance of it (I’m counting things before he snaps btw. After that he has a LOT XD and btw? You go my dude. Lolllll)

Caped Crusader Havery was pushed into a deal with Thorne, because he was down in the poles.

Very good idea! I actually love the take that this version of Havery? Brought his accident upon himself by doing the very thing he preached against.

BTAS was hurt because he was clean, and Thorne wanted to teach him a lesson for daring to do that.

So the difference is very striking! Very new and fresh! And I LOVE it!

So how does it play out?

Thorne bribing him is a longer lead up than Harvey having Thorne lord it over him…

I just… why?????

Like yes suspense.

But it’s more suspenseful to have Thorne finger on the trigger behind Harvey’s head, than going “we should make a deal with that guy”

Idk why they held off. They should’ve made the deal the same episode it was brought up! More time for Harvey to squirm, and possibly make mistakes, and possibly show those anger issues he allegedly has, and more time to show how dangerous Thorne is. Setting him up as a fake final boss.

Ok I won’t try to fix things too much in this post, that’ll be the next one. Anyway.

Caped Cruiser Harvey split into a very cold, and angry man, and a man who was very sad for what he had done.

Ok so uhm… I have OSDD. Hi. I know what it’s like to have people in my head. This is done so badly no offense to those who relate.

BTAS Harvey was said to have DID, I don’t personally agree? The fact the two sides talk is a little more in line with OSDD? But other than that it’s pretty solid. A traumatic event in his childhood, caused a split. Which was found later in life and that alter eventually took over.

Caped Crusader? Cant decide between if he has a very bad anxiety issue, or if he really suffers from a personality disorder. (I say suffers because bro has an alter that makes him kill people, and he can’t control it without outside help. That’s suffering)

DID and OSDD don’t come on later in life. They have to start between the ages 2-7. And yet we never see an appearance of “the other guy” before the big split.

Aside from the chase through the docks, a couple moments at the prison, the moment where Batman stopped him, and mayyyybe the moment in the glass? That one is hard to tell. Those are the only times we see the meager personality in the show.

All of these are after the big freak out. And after the accident.

Harvey having PTSD and anxiety, making him lash out in moments of high stress, fear, and anger? Believable. Especially after what he went through.

Harvey having DID or OSDD? …. I’m not really seeing it coach.

Now that’s my experience. I would like to hear others!! Let me know if I’m being too single sighted.

Caped Crusader Harvey is controlling, and manipulates situations to best fit him.

Did I throw this last one in here because I wanted to end on a positive?

Yes. Yes I did.

I love this so much. I love how the coin is used to goat people into making decisions too quickly. I love how he always gives the person heads, aka the good answer. I love how Barbara uses it on him later.

I. Love. This.

More of this pls. Isgkehgdkhgkeg

Caped Crusader Harvey dies.

I nearly forgot this.

I’m sad.

I love Diedrich Bader, Two Face is my favorite villain, I genuinely liked how he was characterized in this, I just felt he needed more screen time.

But I’m actually ok with him dying……. I say while pulling teeth.

Ok I’m actually very unbiased on the rest? This pisses me off as a fan. He’s my favorite sue me.

I do like it narratively though. …… if it weren’t for a few other things in the show.

But I’ll go into that in another post ;]

The Batman: Caped Crusader’s Harvey Dent is shallow

Good but shallow

There’s many ways to fix him. That would actually tighten the series together and help a lot with a few other things.

Btw no I’m not saying “make it more like BTAS” I’m saying you didn’t use the time wisely, and there’s a MILLION small, time efficient, subtle ways you could’ve set this up better.

So yes I’m asking permission to rant. If anyone wants to hear this. I wanna go into how I actually agree with the characterizations, I just think they need a little extra polish to help them really shine.

Full disclosed? I do like BTAS better. But I really do enjoy the different views Caped Crusader gave! So I want to talk about that show, not comparing it to what came before.

Also I’ve seen way too many hot and cold takes.

“You’re stupid if you like [blank] , the old stuff didn’t do that” sit down and shut up until you can form an opinion in a constructive way.

“The new stuff is amazing! No issues!! If you critique it you’re [idk man some insult]!” Also blatantly false. A 10 episode time frame is NOT enough at the best of times, add in the budget cuts? This is good at best. Defending it like this means there’s no improvements. Criticism is good and needed! And also the creator’s probably won’t see this post. So it generally won’t hurt their feelings I promise.

Anyway. Anyone interested in something far too long? XD

[ticklygiggles]

Obey Me! N$FW Headcanons!

Written with @otomiya-tickles

Oh goodness, sweet Ginny and I are way too invested on these boys! We've been talking about the Obey Me boys' virginity and masturbating likings, and we decided to post these bunch of naughty hc’s. We hope you enjoy them~

Diavolo

We think this sweet looking guy has fucked at least once (don’t let him fool you, he’s fucked more than that)

We also think it can be because he was feeling horny and wanted to satisfy his needs or because he wanted something in return

When it comes to masturbating - he’s a shameless one

He’d go to the bathroom before a meeting or in the middle of the day to jerk off!

Goes back fresh as a lettuce, uf

One of Diavolo's fantasies is having someone looking at him while he masturbates!

He also has very sensitive nipples, you can’t change our minds

We think that when it comes to sex, Diavolo wouldn’t enjoy it as much if he’s not doing it with someone he loves

He’d just do it for some regular sexual thrill, but nothing too exciting

All for the dick, lololololol

Lucifer

Oh goodness, we think he wouldn’t be that interested about sex, but he’s up to do it if he feels the need!

We dare to say that he’d try to please Diavolo if he’s asked to, just like in our tickle hc’s!

L: “Fine. *sigh* if you must… Can I refuse?” D: “Noooo!!!” L: “Alright,, but make it quick” D: “I will, I will!!!”

Something like that, lolololololol

But sometimes when he sees how happy the other person gets he might smile a little (which is just too charming), or when he makes the other person feel real good

He will have a satisfied smirk

We think he’d be the pickiest little shit out there when it comes to choose a sex partner

He just won’t have sex with anyone! It doesn’t matter if they’re the most beautiful being alive, if there’s something he doesn’t like, then he won’t have sex with them!

Unlike Simeon, he’s not that flirty and doesn’t tease much, but of course he’d be so hard to get!

Both in ship and non-ship case, we think he’ll help Diavolo fulfill his sexual needs, but other than that he seems a very hard one to lay a hand on!

We thiiink Diavolo would make him watch while he masturbates, huhu

And Diavolo would be like “Touch my nipples?” and of course, Lucifer can’t deny him

We also think that since the MC manages to win him over, he just has the sexual hots for them!

We think Lucifer wouldn’t be horny for celestial beings since he wants nothing to do with heavenly things!

He knows and acknowledges angels are attractive but somehow horny is just not in his book

Unless with the one he really likes then he can be a beast xD

Omg, Lucifer banned the word Sex in the House of Lamentation, hahaha!

He really doesn’t like his brothers talking about sex. He’s just not interested in their sexual lives!

The horny bunch got their own chat room to talk about their nasty sex xD

Be it Mammon or Asmo talking about it (they both do it a lot) or they making remarks about Levi jerking off to things (Levi is flustered)

Those kinds of talks are not appreciated by almighty Lucifer

Asmodeus

Of course you won’t expect the Avatar of Lust to be a virgin, right? Because he is not!

He’d have sex with anyone attractive and that wants to have sex with him!

He’s also on the top of the masturbation list

Kinky bastard

Oh goodness, we think Asmo and Mammon have horny competitions like “how many times can you cum in one night?” or “how many times can you make your partner cum in one night?”

Actually these competitions were one of the reason talking about sex is banned in the House of Lamentation

Lucifer was like “Enough, you nasty pigs!” With that offended expression (you should know which one): wide eyes, a little gasp, a hand against his chest, yes. He’s pissed

Beelzebub

We think Beel is too busy with his food to notice that he has sexual needs

… Unless he’s making out with his S/O, then he realizes how needy he is!

He also likes to use his mouth! Be it nibbling, sucking, biting, licking, just everything!

He will eat the other person and make teasy remarks that they taste good!

He’s not necessarily kinky, but anything that includes food is a bonus for him!

Like whipped cream on his partner’s body or flavour oils!

We think Beel would come up to his s/o with his happy smile holding up a new flavour oil like “I got this. Let’s use it tonight!”

We also think he’d be so good at kissing (and blowjobs) because he uses his tongue a lot!

He’s an expert with his mouth. Just him kissing and sucking a neck can make a person weak already!

Barbatos

He’s also fucked before, so no Royal Virgins

We think he’s so into blowjobs and handjobs (mostly receiving)

He hardly ever jerked himself off, he will let others do it, omg!

He’s also so kinky: humiliating his partner, spanking, bondage, he’s up to everything

He's pretty resilient tho, like he can do a lot without getting hard yet hahaha!

Simeon

We have no shame. Where’s the fun if our hot angel is not in these hc’s?

We think Simeon is the candy everyone would want but can’t get!

Honestly, this man doesn’t need to be naked to turn people on!

He’s sexy and hot and hard to get, so he might please others sometimes

He doesn’t get touched or fucked easily because he’s definitely “keeping himself” for the person he loves!

He’ll give someone a handjob, but then the other person wants to do something back to him and he’s like “Naaaah” *graciously leaves*

We think he wouldn’t use his mouth on someone else, though, so he’d be like “Hmm? I can give you a hand job”, while he does a very dirty move with his hand, ay

He’s also extremely skilled at it! Like??? How?!

He’s also a tease!

He’d say things like “oh goodness, you’re so wet. Does it feel that good~?”

And it’s so frustrating because he doesn’t get hard! Only for the person he loves, fufu

Leviathan

It’s a dirty Otaku, no kidding LOL

We think he fantasizes, watches (you know what) and jerks off a lot

However, when it comes down to it he's shy and awkward

Definitely knows how to touch himself, but having someone touching him and/or touching someone???

Levi. exe has stopped working

He’s super subby and likes being told what to do, but he’s also cute and clumsy!

We think Levi is into many nasty things lolololol

As a dirty otaku he's seen a lot of things including the kinky shit: bondage SM/ tentacle sex (lolllll) so not really vanilla x'D he's just shy to ask or suggest anything

But he does get super hard whenever someone is dominant over him

He's definitely curious about all things he's seen, but he's way way too shy!

We think he probably just sends screenshots of the things he'd like to do and his partner is like "you want that? We can do it~"

We also think that he's jerked off so much and he knows how to please himself so well that it's a bit hard for him to come!

Like he needs a lot of pleasure and build up and other turn ons (like the kinky shit), and lots of verbal teasing to get him over the edge

Levi just needs a lot of stimulation, even though he is a virgin!

We also think he apologizes so much during sex! He’d be apologizing through all his moans and cries sdnjdsg

Like he will apologize if he doesnt come and then when he does come all over the other person he will apologize too haha

He's kinda into edging/denial? Like it takes a lot of time to make him cum, so it'd frustrate him so much if they stop when he's finally so close!

And he loves it when the other punishes him, like he doesn't necessarily act like a brat or something to be punished but he gets it on him anyway and when he does,it’s such a turn on for him haha!

He'd probably like to be spanked, but nothing too intense because he's baby

Levi usually talks SO much, so we think his dom can often tease him with that! Like “where are your big talks now~?”

To which Levi makes very courageous remarks like "don't touch me, normie" between moans and broken voice and his partner just "*spank* how did you call me?”

We think the whole concept of sex just changes him into this cute shy boy who's only had much experience with porn and fantasies

So he goes from the HOOOOOH loud Levi to just cute mewls, moans and apologies hahaha

We also think that he’d get ticklish when touched for the first tiiime, he’s so nervous and jumpy! Imagine him letting out this moany surprised giggles asjnd

He's also so ripped! He'd get flustered if you comment about his muscles!

His partner could be like "look how good your body is even if you're just an otaku staying inside all day long" and Levi is like "so meeaaan!!" All teary but his cock’s jumping skdjnff

While we do think Levi takes long to cum, he DOEs get hard pretty fast hahahaha

like maybe even when he's not fully undressed yet the bulge will already be visible!

We love cute kinky submissive dirty otaku boy >:)

Solomon

He’s kinky, HAHA

A top tease! Like 24/7 smug and teasy and he will make the receiver beg and ask for it and play dumb like "What do you want? You'll have to be specific."

He’s also very hard to please!

Like even to get him hard it’s hard xD he's enjoying his time with his s/o, but he's skdkf not hard!!

He can endure a lot without getting horny but he just loves to watch a person get weak under his touch

We think even when he's on the receiving end, he gets all teasy and constantly challenges the other, like “is that all you got? 8-) You gotta try harder~”

We also think he can control himself a lot! Like he can hold his orgasms for quite a long time and be like "I’m not even close~"

He rarely jerks off because he's not that entertained by it, he just needs someone to tease and make crazy haha

We love the idea of almighty Solomon getting overpowered by an even higher top!

We don't think he will ever 'break completely' and beg or do anything uncool but he'll definitely have less of an attitude once taken good care of

He’d be like "o-okay that's... That's enough" and his partner all like "huh? We're just starting, Solomon, so keep yourself together" while he blushes a lot!

He sounds so hot when he moans and gasps! His voice is a hidden treasure!

And once he finally DOES reach his orgasm his entire body gets sooo sensitive!

He'd be a whiny mess if his partner brushes their fingertips or nails against his skin!

He'd squirm so much and maybe let out a whiny giggle????

Belphegor

Belphie can be both genuine and teasy at the same time like "Does it feel good?"

He often needs confirmation and he often says things like "I'm inexperienced" or "I'm not sure how to do this" but he tries his best anyway

And besides saying things like "I'm inexperienced, I'm not sure what to dooo" he might say things like "Beel probably knows what to do." and he adorably tends to mention beel and the receiver will have to be like x3 omg no belphie you're doing fine

He'd be a little lazy to please his partner xD like he tries his best, but after he's like "I'm tired" and he wants to be taken care of!

He tends to get overwhelmed pretty fast by pleasure so he might ask the other to stop even when his body doesn't want it to stop but he's just like PSPHHgailugigh

He probably comes too fast the first times he has sex with his partner! He maybe just cums when they play with his nipples because he’s that sensitive!

He is so sensitive and his moans are so cute and whiny

We think he might be sore the next day xD he will complain a lot about being sore and tired haha

His body also gets tired fast during any intercourse, even though he does feel good and enjoys it, he will whine and whimper about it haha

He’d like to find little hickeys on his neck, chest or thighs the next day too!

He’s also very sensitive to neck kisses, probably enough to already stimulate him sexually since he’s so sensitive!

His little moans would be the cutest! And if he gets to make the other party feel good, he will show his precious smile!

Satan

We think Satan wouldn't be too interested in sex, (he spends his time trying to be better than Lucifer skdndnd)

BUT we also think that he reads erotic books every once in a while and like those book don't necessarily turn him on per say, but make him feel blushy and a bit giddy about having someone to enjoy sexy times with!

He'd be quite knowledgeable and a bit shy like “I read that this feels good, may I?” He is not like super horny but he likes to experiment a bit and is just so sweet 😍👏🏻

He's got skills to make his partner feel good, but he'd be so, so blushy and would feel flustered if his partner compliments him about how good he is!

ALSO! Someone should not mention Lucifer in any competitive matter because that might activate his hidden beast

When he's receiving, he tries to hold himself back so much! Like his moans and any noises!

He just wants to hide how sensitive he really is!

His s/o would be a little pouty like "are you not liking it?" and he just adorably nods but he keeps controlling himself as much as possible hehe

And sometimes a cute little moan escapes and he blushes so much omg

Also he has super sensitive nipples, if he gets touched there he'd be arching his back so much and would cover his mouth with one of his hands to hold back his sounds and would grip the sheets with his free hand!! He'd be all beggy like "please don't touch me there~" while his hips circle and thrust because it feels so good!

We think bondage will work really good on him since he tends to squirm a lot and cover up. He’s so helpless if he can’t!

He'd be pulling at his restrains and biting his lip so hard and begging for his s/o to let him go (even though he can escape on his own), and they're just teasing him

He’d also get extra sensitive if he’s being edged, like everytime they deny him his release, he'd just feel more and more sensitive and eventually won't be able to stop his sounds!

Satan begs a lot and he whines adorably but he’ll never say a safe word or give up

Satan being like this makes us want to wreck him!

We think he'd get a bit turned on if his s/o brush their fingers against his sides and he’d be so shy if he lets out a little giggle here and there!

"don't- don't tihihickle me right nohohow!" And his cock is shaking dkdnf

He’s also the type to get ticklish and super sensitive everywhere especially after an orgasm

And his giggles and moans are so cuuute and he sounds tired and whiny and he shakes his head adorably omg

His cheeks super red babyyyyyy

Mammon (tumblr didn't let me upload a pic, wtf?)

He’s a beast! Will have no mercy, so brace yourself!

To be fair, he’s really good in sex, so he loves praises! Compliments stimulate him. He needs to hear how good he is!

What can you expect from the Avatar of Greed, right?

He’s the typical guy to run after his dick, lololol! He’s all about money and sex!

We think he gets horny and hard in the most uncomfortable moments. He gets so many boners a day wtf

Even his brothers just stare awkwardly at his crotch… “wait… are you hard? o_O”

We also think he loves receiving blowjobs and he loooves to hold his partner by their hair!

He’s a passionate mouth fucker

He probably feels a bit vulnerable when people touch him elsewhere like, he just wants the attention for his dick!

And he might be sensitive somewhere else but he doens't quite like to be touched unless it's his love haha

He's really picky! Like if he's with someone else, then it's just dick attention, but if it's the person he loves, then they'd let him touch him everywhere!

He's a bit less casual about it than Diavolo, but he does jerk off from time to time and people will be able to tell from the look on his face haha

And he doesn't like to be confronted and teased with it, while Diavolo won’t give a shit

However, Asmo would tease him so much just because he knows Mammon hates that!

He’d be like "woah! Did you have a good one, Mammon~?" or “what did you think of mammoonnn?<3”

Also Asmo and maybe even the others might make some remarks like "Ugh, Mammon would jerk off to this"

Probably besides Asmo he might have some arguments with Levi from time to time, like Mammon's a nasty perv normie and Levi the dirty otaku

Levi would probably agree whenever someone's like “ugh Mammon would jerk off to this” or any other remark like “oh, he probably just gonna suck on his own dick!

And mammon will fire back at Levi for being a dirty otaku

We also think that Mammon has walked into Levi's room when he was watching anime porn hahaha

Mammon thinks his own porn is superior and Levi is like "that normie stuff is gross, this is way better" so Mammon ends up watching hentai with Levi xD

Also if people ever need condoms he probably has a good stash. He's really picky, so of course he'd have his stash of condoms! We're not risking anything here hahaha

It’s hard to Dom him, like he’s not super Dom, but he likes to be the possessive one!

He also might have a lot of kink stuff stored but in the end he just doesn't end up using it?

He would like to be kinky but in the end he just has normal sex

He’s also easy to distract! Like he's super horny and has the handcuffs or something else kinky ready, but the other person just can give him a blow job and let him fuck them and then it's done and he's like ohh oh well

He'd also be a bit turned off easily, like, he's still hard and all, but at then he ends up having sex just because, but he's bored, but if he's turned ON he can stay turned on for quite a while haha hes a beast!

Like fuck after fuck even after he comes! He likes it raw and he loves to hear his partner whining so much about how they just came too

He also likes to hear his partner saying just how tired they are and he'd give them this wide, lethal smirk and be like "we're just starting, so put yourself together"

And he's sweating a bit and his cheeks are a bit flushed and his skin just glooowwsss because he's feeling so good!

We also think Mammon is not too loud when having sex, he’s just not a moaner, but he will grunt and huff and occasionally you'll hear this kind of growl that just proves how good it makes him feel