#greaseball: exists
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#greaseball: exists#dinah: 😍#greaseball#dinah#greaseball x dinah#greasedinah#starlight express#stex london 2024#al knott#eve humphrey
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Finally drew the trains (plus caboose)!
#starlight express#c.b.#the red caboose#I said I was gonna draw C.B. and I shall do so lol#stex electra#electra the electric engine#greaseball#greaseball the diesel#ignore the mispelling on the paper jt doesn't exist shhhhh#I love these guys#I keep humming their songs lol#stex
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How long were you stuck with the curse?
200 YEARS I THINK
It felt like that to him. In reality it was more around... 10 years. -Gerome
#((the math here is all levels minus bosses and final x 10#((since each world in each gate seems super developed and established. not to say they didnt exist before john but they thrived#((such as greaseball's restaurant and pig city#((not to mention totino boy's restaurant too#;pizzacanon#;johnmageddon#;gerome speaks#;john speaks
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OH MY GOD HI FUNKEN!! ( I call him funken 😭)
I LOVE WORKSHOP ELECTRA SO MUCH. He's just a weird zombie-ish guy that doesn't know how to interact with people. Just like me!!!
realising i never posted workshop electra on here. peak design i love them
#starlight express#stex#stex electra#workshop electra#Workshop Electra you're my baby I will protecc you#also he explodes from stress. JUST LIKE ME FR 💜#ALSO. let's remember hes the only one that doesn't argue with Greaseball. he's just there#existing#barely breathing#he just wanted someone :((((
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☆ 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊 ☆
sub!ellie x dom!reader
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚘𝚞, 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚝-𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙹𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚘, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎.
𝚊/𝚗: 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝-𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 kind of shitty really bad 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 that i absolutely despise but spent too long on to keep in the drafts 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝e𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 ♥︎
It's been dark for a few hours now, light pooling into your room from the flicker of a candle and the red lava lamp you stole from Dina's room.
She's gone again and the apartment feels hollow. Still, you're sat at your desk working as the regimented tick of your clock beats on in the background.
A shuffle and the click of a door capture your attention.
Ellie's here. As per usual.
You let out a strained puff of air and swivel your chair around to face the source of the thud that’s now aggressively rubbing her eyes and sitting at the foot of your bed.
“Ellie.”
“Hm?” she croaks out.
“You bored?”
“Hmmm…” She finally looks up from her palms with slightly blood-shot eyes and freckled skin splotched pink to meet your inquisitive gaze.
“Dina said she was gonna watch Back to the Future with me and then she ditched me for Jesse… So, now I’m left with you, the roommate.”
“The roommate, huh? I see how it is. What if I beat your ass? Then what?”
Your attempt to lighten the tired atmosphere lacks much spark, but Ellie’s bored enough to bite. Her green eyes are illuminated by the dim glow of the lava lamp as she waves you off dismissively and, for a split second, they’re flecked with the purest gold you’ve ever seen.
You play it totally cool, with your arm strung over the backrest of your chair nonchalantly, as though you didn’t just witness a scene that will be burnt onto your retinas and play late at night when you’re trying to sleep.
“Pfft, like you could fight anyone.”
You scoff indignantly, mock offended, and stand up from your seat, leaving it spinning behind you.
“Uhhh, at least I got meat on my bones.”
“Yeah! And absolutely none of it is muscle.”
“You askin’ me to unleash the beast, E-bone?”
God, you become the biggest dork around her… It's like you both morph into your thirteen year old selves, sitting on Ellie's disheveled bedroom floor after school and bickering about anything and everything until Joel yells up about dinner being done.
Times were simpler. Then, you got older and the buzz you felt each time your hands brushed, which was so easy to downplay, gradually became gaping - virtually impossible to ignore five years down the line. Once the door was open, there was no looking back.
Didn't help that Ellie only got hotter and hotter.
The thought of losing her over something like this makes your stomach writhe inside you though, so you keep the fantasizing to a minimum. Kind of.
The apples of her cheeks puff out rosy in an unrestrained grin, as she announces,
“Bring it, dude. I’d like to see you try,”
“I’m gonna rip your non-existent balls off,”
“Oh, I am just shaking with fear!”
“Fuck off, you little greaseball,”
“Pfft, please, that’s just my aesthetic appeal. You’re gonna have to try harder than that to insult me, bud.”
Your mind flurries with a million responses but the beckoning of your open laptop, begging for your attention before the fast approaching deadline, cuts through the buzz with ease.
Unfortunately, you can’t just ignore it this time. You’ve got less than twenty four hours to complete the soul-draining assignment, and you've spent the last few hours sighing periodically as you looked over the mediocre jargon you’d written so far instead of adding anything.
Great.
But it’s so tempting to forget about the essay completely and let go: focus all your attention onto doing dumb shit with Ellie like you usually do.
“Okay, I do not have time for this, I’ve got a whole ass essay due.”
Ellie sits up with an exaggerated groan, tugging you in by the arm.
“You always have something due!”
“Not always… And, yeah, Ellie! That’s college.”
“Dude. You’re either studying or working all the time and you barely leave this room.”
“Hey, I happen to think it’s pretty cozy in here.”
Ellie rolls her eyes before taking in the contents of the room, scanning the papers and lone items of stationery cluttering, no, invading your cramped desk space.
“Yeahhh… real ‘cozy’ in here. Do you ever clean?”
“Oh, big talk from someone who lives in a literal pig sty! I'm working so this doesn't count. Plus, it’s paper mess, not actual junk.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least your bed’s comfortable…"
She turns her head to face you, watching your expression become slightly conflicted.
“Come on, dude, take a break from working for five minutes! Just five!”
You look back at her for a moment, at those eyes you desperately want to please even in the pettiest of situations, and sigh before sitting beside her.
“For the record, it won’t be ‘just five’, and you’re a bad influence on me.”
Ellie chuckles as the bed dips nearby with a soft creak.
“How am I a bad influence? I’m simply encouraging you to relax with me.”
The weird thing about your relationship is that, having been friends for so long, the bickering is intrinsically woven through every conversation you have, and it often leads to the kinds of petty arguments you're having now: the kind that you don't even remember the cause of.
“Uh, yeah?”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Suuuuuure-”
“Shut up, Ellie.”
“No.”
“You know what? Get out of my room.”
“Fine. Asshole.”
The kind of dumbass arguments that Joel would have to come in and alleviate without knowing the cause of either, because it was always something incredibly stupid anyway.
Joel's still back in Jackson though, while the two of you are miles away, and sulking's kinda pointless when there's no one around to see, so Ellie gets back up from her sprawled out position on the living room couch out of boredom and asks if she can come back in.
Same solution you used back when you were 12: you smirk deviously to yourself as you recall the memories before muttering,
“You can come in but you have to sit on the floor.”
Ellie scoffs, recognition evident in the unimpressed raise of her eyebrows. This pissed her off beyond measure back when you were kids, but now it weirdly brings on a sense of nostalgia, so she lets it slide, coming in and suppressing the small smile playing on her lips.
“Fine… Jackass.”
She lowers herself to the scratchy rug beneath your bed and leans against the wooden frame. She’s facing away like she used to too, always trying to avoid the embarrassment of having to look up at you. She still looks up over her shoulder at you with an exaggerated expression anyway though.
“Happy now?”
You look down at her and smirk.
“Very.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You're really enjoyin' this, aren't you?”
“Yep! You know, you’re still so easy to work up. Must be pretty uncomfortable down there, huh?”
“Shut up, asshole. I’m waaaaay more cozy down here. This carpet's amazing; you're missing out. I could fall asleep any second.”
Ellie's voice rasps as she rambles on, looking up at you with those big eyes that make you weak in the knees, and you can't resist the urge to just reach out and ruffle the auburn tufts of hair laying chaotically on her head, smirking as you mutter,
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
Ellie’s cheeks almost immediately flush. Her gaze begins to flicker away from you, no longer so unaware of the intricacies of holding eye contact.
She opens her mouth in shock, and then her eyebrow furrow quickly to cover up with a scoff,
“You are such a dick.”
“What? I didn't even do anything!”
“Dude, you do this every time and it pisses me off! You can cuss me out one minute and say you hate me and then be all corny the next?!”
“Okay, that was in the heat of the mo-”
“Yeah, right, 'in the heat of the moment.' You say shit like that every time we argue and you don't even apologize. At least be honest.”
Her expression looks earnest and it makes your heart contract a little tighter, the hot bite of guilt nipping at your insides. But something else stirs too.
You hate how attracted you are to her when she’s frustrated.
This room, with the warmth of body heat and candlelight intoxicating you and the red glow that casts over Ellie’s pretty face, makes the gaze she holds up at you so sweetly drowsier through the obscurant of her thick eyelashes, makes the swell of her bottom lip as she releases it from a harsh bite seem so much more enticing, makes you feel like your inhibitions are strapped to a ticking time bomb.
The pull is electrifying - more than magnetic, and you'd give anything to lay your skin onto hers, to feel each touch, so gentle, ignite your skin, and embrace her wholly. Consume doesn't even seem too strong a word.
“I don’t hate you, Ellie. Here, come sit."
You shift aside and pat the space next to you, watching intently as she huffs and rises to her feet before flopping down beside you.
Unbeknownst to her, all her movements are so much more sensuous now - you’re trying desperately to ignore the sliver of skin that showed as her shirt rode up her stomach when she got up, but it’s almost getting painful.
So much so that you have to physically drag your mind away from it.
“Anyway, have you had dinner yet?”
Ellie blinks a few times, caught in the crossover between the two completely separate conversations as she fumbles her way through a response,
“No, not yet. I was planning on ordering something later though. Why?”
“I’m starving.”
She chuckles and you feel the tense disposition of your muscles physically loosen.
“Oh, you’re hungry, huh? You want me to order food for you too, don't ya?”
“And you’ll do it because you’re the absolute coolest, most awesomest person in the whole entire world, right?”
She smiles softly, "Alright, alright, tell me something I don't know."
As your eyes meet, something in you clicks into place.
Your heart is thumping erratically in your chest. She’s so close; her hands are so near. You could lean in ever so slightly and your lips would meet.
For some reason, something in you is saying that it’s now or never, so the petrifying thoughts of any possible consequence arise again.
It’s realistic to be scared. That’s why you pushed down these feelings away for so long. But, in a moment of clarity, you realise your relationship is strong enough to withhold something like this, even if it would be devastating if Ellie didn’t feel the same way. You’ve known each other since you were children, your childhood homes are only a few houses away from each other, all your friends are friends, and even your parents are friends. There’s no escaping this.
Even if it doesn’t go as planned, you have to take the leap or you’ll never get over her.
“Thank you, Ellie... God, this is gonna take a really long time though, isn’t it?"
“Pfft, you’re such a baby. It’s gonna take like 30 minutes max, just chill.”
You smile, the thumping of your heart becoming supermassive. You can feel it filling your being and surrounding you completely. Then, you mutter,
“Maybe we can keep ourselves entertained in the meantime,”
and the seal is broken.
Ellie is perplexed. From where she sits on your bed, you’ve suddenly become a lot more tense, and your gaze bears into her much more sharply than she’s ever noticed before. But it makes her feel weird… in a good way, and her throat runs dry as she raises an eyebrow skeptically.
“And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?”
You shrug,
“Can I try something?”
“I’m kinda terrified but okay,” she chuckles
You hum, falling into a rhythm, the nervousness so intense that it numbs you.
“Lay back for a second.”
Ellie’s eyebrows draw together with a burning curiosity, feeling a heat rise in the pit of her stomach which seems to answer her unspoken questions.
She know what’s going to happen now, but it feels so surreal, it can’t be.
She shuffles back and lays into the embrace of your pillows, surrounded by the sweet scent of your perfume. She’s been dreaming of this moment as soon as she realized she saw girls differently.
How could she not? You've always been right next to her, and you were perfect in every way - you are perfect in every way. You’re smart, funny, sweet, and she thought you were beautiful as soon as she saw you for the first time, gazing at you with her jaw dropped for, most likely, a few too many seconds. Then it happened again one day when she was 16.
You’d both gone out to get ice cream and she became enraptured by the hazed look in your eyes as the liquid dripped down your chin and over the smooth skin of your hand, your soft hair, tussled by the summer breeze. Her breath caught in her throat as she scrambled to look away. She knew there was no turning back.
But most of all, you’re the one she goes to before anyone else, and it’s always been that way. You’re the only person that brings her a different kind of peace, that indica high, calmer than she feels with anybody else. You’re her girl. Always have been; always will be.
All the playful flirtation and lingering glances - she’d never imagined would really result in this.
“What now?” she whispers, her voice coming out quieter than she intended for it to, giving her away in an instant. She clears her throat but you can't help but play into her discomfort, pleasure woven through the feeling you get when you make her needy. You already feel a buzz from the fact that she’s not pushing you away or playing you off. This was only ever a daydream in the past, but so, so much better than you'd hoped.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that; you just make sure you’re comfortable. Are you comfortable?”
She stutters through an answer, taken aback by the silkiness of your tone. God, she had dreamed about this so many times and never imagined you so like this, never imagined herself so submissive.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m comfortable… You… You aren’t fucking around, are you?”
“Fucking around? Gonna need you to be more specific, Els.”
She forces a gulp down her now dry throat, looking up at you and she mutters,
“Uh, I don’t know… Like… Like that one time you twisted my arm because you wanted to see-”
She hesitates, cutting herself off, her eyes drifting down to the curvature of your body that she’s wanted to feel for too long for just a split second.
“Can I touch you?” she splutters as soon as the thought enters her mind, overwhelmed with a sudden panic, her eyes flit up again to meet yours, flickering between each pupil in desperate search of any confirmation.
A shudder ripples through her body as your hands move closer, taking the lead before you give her the chance to. Her heart is racing.
“Can I touch you?”
She nods, almost too eagerly.
She curses internally.
You let your hand hover over her shoulder for a moment,
“Hmm, and where is it okay to touch you, Ellie?”
Ellie feels dangerously flustered. She tries to regain her composure, but it’s long gone out the window, and she’s like a handful of clay, soft and malleable, pervious under the sensational pressure of your fingertips.
“Anywhere.”
A soft smile graces your lips.
“Thirty minutes.”
You run your hand down her arm, grazing the skin gently with your nails and then down her stomach to her hip under her shirt, taking time to fully feel the gentle grooves and curves of her body for the first time.
“Is this okay, Ellie?”
She lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hand trailing over her skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. She swallows once more before replying, her voice unsteady.
“Yeah… Yeah, that’s fine. It feels… nice.”
“Hmm,”
Then, you place your palm on her ankle and begin to move up, ghosting your hand over her inner leg,
“I want you to tell me what feels good. Okay, Ellie?”
“Y-yeah. Sure. I can… I can do that.”
“Good. Good girl.”
You sit up and straddle her lap, and it catches Ellie off guard, suddenly feeling so much more at your mercy as you stare directly down at her, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her pink ear. Her breath hitches but she instinctively brings her hands to rest on your waist. You lean in to whisper,
“You look comfortable. Are you comfortable? I want you to feel good.”
And she tries to make sense of the fuzz in her brain to answer the influx of questions you’re asking. They’re barely keeping her grounded. Her hands move down to hold your thighs.
“Y-yeah, I’m good. You… You’re making me feel… good.”
“That’s good.”
Though you're dragging it out, teasing her because her neediness makes you wetter, eager to make her eager, you are just as needy, if not more. You're desperate to taste her, to be close to her, to feel her lips moving sensually with yours.
You place your hand over one of hers on your thigh and mutter, your words like the wisp of a feather caressing her skin,
“I’m gonna kiss you, Ellie, is that okay?
Ellie thinks she might die. The way her heart buffered in her chest once she processed your words felt too intense to not be her going into cardiac arrest. Either way, she's happy. What a way to go.
Somehow, all her feelings have culminated in this moment, in something she would never have expected, and her grip tightens to remind herself that that is really your body she’s feeling and this is really real.
She nods slowly, drowsy eyes meeting yours.
“Yeah… Yeah, yes, fuck, y-you can kiss me. Please.”
But, fuck, you just can't help teasing when she looks like she's yearning for you so sweetly that it makes your pussy flutter.
So, instead, you lean forward and kiss her forehead, listening to her labored breaths catch and watching her lips twitch in confusion when you pull back with your hands on either side of her head supporting you. You look her in the eyes and move one of them to caress the red stray hairs clinging to her face away.
“You look so beautiful."
“Th-thank you… You’re…”
It's obvious she's flustered, and it only makes you feel more high, so you pull back and kiss her cheek, mocking,
“Hm? You gonna finish that sentence, Els?”
“You’re- fuck… Y-you’re beautiful… too.”
“That’s my girl.”
You kiss the corner of her mouth and Ellie’s heart is beating hard enough for her to feel like her whole body is pounding as she squirms to lean into your touch.
“Y-your girl?”
“Yeah, Ellie.”
You lean in and finally connect lips, words blanketed by the contact.
“My girl.”
Ellie melts beneath you as you finally kiss her properly. Despite her usual nature, she finds herself completely powerless against the feelings coursing through her body. You’re completely overwhelming her senses, and you’ve never seen her like this.
She wraps her arms around your waist, and presses into the small of your back to pull you impossibly closer as she kisses you back deeply, losing herself in the moment.
You sink into her, deepening the kiss with impatience and roaming your hands along the expanse of her freckled skin while gently rutting your hips into her.
Ellie moans against your mouth at the pressure, and you use the opening to circle her tongue with your own, making her body arch up into you.
She runs her hands along your sides, her fingers groping the fat of your ass as you grind against her. The sensations are overwhelming, arousal pooling in her underwear as her desire for more continues to grow.
“God… Please…”
You pull back, sealing your thirst with a peck on her lips.
“You’re so good for me, Ellie. You want me somewhere else?”
When she looks up at you, her eyes are clouded with desire. She can’t find the words to express herself properly, the intensity of the moment rendering her speechless, but she pushes through the fog,
“Y-yeah… I need you… more, fuck, please.”
It's blatant that your own arousal is overtaking your need to push her, so you lift her shirt up and place kisses along the soft, velvety skin of her chest, circling her pebbled nipples with your tongue. Ellie lets out a soft gasp at the warm and wet feeling, tingles erupting through her chest, and her body caves to feel the gentle pressure deepen before you get up from her lap and lift her thigh.
She watches you go with wide eyes, following you away by pushing herself up off the mattress in a subconscious attempt to remain close to you. You’re already looking back at her for permission before tugging off her sweatpants,
“You know something, Els?”
Her eyes are dark with desire and her response is hoarse.
“What… what is it?”
“I’m still really hungry.”
You push her leg up and place an anything-but- chaste kiss upon the fat of her inner thigh, watching her shudder and her eyes roll back ever so slightly in pleasure,
“Can you help me?”
Her breath hitches in her throat. She nods once, swallowing hard before replying.
“Yeah... Yeah, fuck. Just... Please,” she thrusts her hips up against you.
You run your fingers down her stomach, over the wispy auburn curls trailing down to her pussy and and over the damp fabric of her underwear, drunk off the sight of her flushed beneath you,
“Do you think you can handle that?”
Ellie's body tenses as she gasps out,
“Y-yeah, I can handle it… Fuck... You're making it really hard to think straight.”
You just smile as you drag her underwear down her legs agonizingly slowly before throwing it aside haphazardly. She watches you lower yourself in front of her pussy and it makes her throw her head back.
It's swollen and glistening, squelching quietly as she tenses above you in hungry pulses, and the exhale of a warm breath over it causes her to shiver. You chuckle.
Ellie bites her lip to muffle a moan, knowing how fucking pathetic it is that she finds it hot when you're mean, and that the breathy melody of your laugh only turned her on even more, when she didn't think that was possible.
“Please, baby…”
You run your tongue over your bottom lip and push your face in to kiss her protruding clit gently, feeling her convulse before you. She wants nothing more than for you to give her the release she craves but, before she knows it, you’re pulling away abruptly, and her throbbing pussy is left dripping again.
“Patience, okay?”
She strains out a scoff with the last shred of sanity left in her and mumbles,
“You're really testing my limits here,”
“What was that, sweetheart?”
Ellie meets your gaze with frustration, her body thrumming with need. Your teasing and the way you tower over her laying body are making her feel insane, making it difficult to get any words out. She swallows hard before replying, her voice slightly breathless.
“I said... You're testing my limits... Don’t tease me... Fuck, you’re such a dick,”
“I don’t think…”
You lean closer and run the tip of your tongue from her hole over her swollen pink clit, smearing her slick up crudely. Ellie squirms, her body taut with need.
“I don’t think I like your tone, baby, do you want me to stop? Is that what you want?”
Her eyes widen as she shifts into pleading,
“No, no, don't stop. Please... I don't want you to stop. I'm just... Fuck... You're driving me crazy.
“I’m the one who gets to call the shots, okay, Els? I’m gonna need you to say sorry and then maybe I’ll consider giving you what you need.”
“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just... I need you so bad. Please, baby, fuck…”
Ellie feels a surge of impatience, desperate for your touch and frustrated by your insistence on making her wait. She needs you, and she'll do anything to get you to give her what she wants, but what you want is to make her writhe. You kiss her forehead,
“Good girl,”
and then you crawl back to where you desperately need to be: between her legs, and push her thighs up to her chest before burying the lower half of your face into her core without warning, your tongue flexed erotically as you slurp the slick from her pussy like you're starving, flicking your tongue erratically and eagerly.
“Oh, fuck... Just like that... Please, don't stop...”
Ellie’s moans are sweet and debaucherous, with her hands scrambling for purchase, grasping at the wrinkled sheets beneath her when you thrust your tongue into her.
Your eyes never leave her face, watching the way she sinks further into the loss of control, mouth opening wider, eyes rolling back further. You slowly sink a finger, and then another, into her drooling hole with ease, feeling her pussy flutter around you.
The hold you have on her thighs is tightening mercilessly, but you're losing yourself too, untouched and squeezing your legs together to satiate your own ache.
Quickly, intoxicated by the depraved squelching sound filling the room and the suction of her walls taking in your digits, you plunge them deeper, in and out, in and out.
“Oh, oh god... Fuck, baby, please don't stop... Fuck, I'm cumming, I’m-”
Ellie arches her back, lifting off the mattress, her body tensing up as the pleasure builds to a peak within her, faster than you had anticipated. You keep your eyes trained on her, and they meet when she looks down on you, bottom lip red and raw, tugged between her teeth, eyebrows knitted in rapture.
She's completely captivated by you, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge of climax, but the sight of your half-lidded eyes gazing up at her knocks her over the edge with intensity.
She lets out a groan and then a cry of ecstasy, her body trembling beneath you as the intense waves of pleasure wash over her. You don't let up. She gasps for air, her hands rushing to your head to simultaneously push your face into her as she thrusts her hips against you, and pull you away by the hair as the pleasure becomes too much.
Her chest heaves for a moment before reaching a pinnacle in a soft sigh and, gradually, the room floods with silence. Ellie turns her head to gaze at you hazily, eyes honeyed with affection and exhaustion, and she grins toothily,
“That was... amazing... Holy fuck… You're amazing...”
Finally, you lift yourself up and hover over her.
“Yeah?”
Ellie wraps her arms around you, pulling you against her, and the tenderness of it all makes your chest fill with a tingling warmth reserved just for Ellie.
Her body still thrums with the aftershocks of pleasure,
Yeah... Yeah, that was... incredible."
“You’re pretty cute when you get all flustered, Els.”
Ellie blushes at your words; you hoped to draw that out of her, and she huffs slightly in feigned annoyance, though it’s completely half-hearted.
“Shut up.”
You chuckle, but it dies out quickly as she looks down at you longingly, elaborating,
“I... don't know if it's kinda late to say this now but... I love you... I mean, obviously, I do, but as... more than just a friend. I've known for a long time, I've just been too scared of ruining things to actually tell you-”
“Pussy-” Ironic.
“Shut up - you know, that is incredibly rich coming from- fuck, forget that, it's been... building for a while now, and, if you feel the same, I wanna take you out... Maybe, next Friday? Or whatever day works for you…”
She pauses before meeting your gaze, her eyes searching yours intently as she mumbles,
“Please say something. Preferably other than ‘pussy.’”
“Ellie.”
“Yes?”
“I love you too, as more than just a friend... I would love to go out with you and thanks for letting me eat you out. That was pretty awesome."
She grins stupidly,
“You're welcome, it was pretty awesome for me too.”
“Nice.”
Ellie smiles, the furious blush unfading on her cheeks as she studies your expression.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you, you little asshole.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
You place a gentle kiss on her freckled cheek and pull back to see the way she grins, but then her face drops.
“Fuck, I forgot to order the food.”
#ellie x reader#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie fluff#ellie the last of us#tlou2#ellie x y/n#ellie williams smut#ellie smut#tlou ellie#ellie williams fluff#ellie x you#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fanfic#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams tlou#friends to lovers#ellie x bf!reader#smut#wlw#lesbian#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou au
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Rich people: Scrooge McDuck is not supposed to be a role model. That motherfucker got his money from the diamond trade, and we all know what that actually means. Best to simply ignore what he's doing entirely. Especially since I'm about sixty percent sure that jumping into a bank vault full of coins like it's a swimming pool will actually break your neck. And then you'll look really stupid at the hospital, explaining to the cute nurse that you are so rich that you hurt yourself with your own money.
Another, better, way to hurt yourself with your own money is a car collection. Lots of rich folks are getting into it: buy a bunch of cars, put them in a room, and then look at the cars instead of ever driving them properly. That's boring, and it's not least so because the rich people have no taste. Who wants to go see another 2024 Ferrari F-seven-billion when they could instead see a 1986 Wartburg 353? Nobody, but I bet you'll never find a billionaire with one of the latter. Like I said, tasteless.
If you're super-rich, a little bit amoral, and willing to completely subserve your judgment (and power of attorney) to a greaseball with taste, I'm your guy. For just a few million dollars a year, I'll travel the world on your behalf, buying the most fascinating shitboxes in existence and commissioning the world's finest artisans to do immaculate restorations of them. I will, however, laugh in their face as an exotic Italian carrozzeria with hundreds of years of history is forced by the mass of cash involved to create all-new turn signal lenses for an extremely high-mileage base-model Fiat 600.
How can you turn that offer down? You can't. Even Scrooge McDuck couldn't, if he were real and not being controlled behind the scenes by his "sailor" so-called nephew, Donald. It's your turn to prove that a pantsless mallard doesn't secretly control your empire, by paying a sometimes-pantsless human a whole shitload of money to go buy a beater or two for you.
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Chrollo Lucilfer Yandere Analysis.
Yan Chrollo x F Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, not SFW (both non-con and dub-con), the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectfully, forced tattooing, Chrollo having a god complex but that's nothing new lol, Stockholm Syndrome, stalking, parallels to religion (mainly Judeo-Christianity), implied body transformation (using Chrollo’s book), masturbation, manipulation, and violence/gore.
Word Count: 13k.
credits to @ddarker-dreams for the yandere MBTI and like everything she writes for this creepy greaseball (check her out if you haven’t already!!) <33333
another thanks to @depravitycentral for the inspiration! check them out too!!!! their general profile and nsfw profile for mr. chrollo specifically BUT everything they write is pretty good! <33333
one last thanks to @phasmophobia-territory for the ultimate yandere types list and @blughxreader for the yandere personality meme. both have inspired the unique qualities part of this analysis, so please be sure to check them out! <333
also, for quotes i tried to do something like genshin impact/honkai: star rail voicelines so i apologize if they aren’t good (メ﹏メ)
*~*~*~*
I look forward to living life with you from here on out. However, just know that there will be many different roads we will walk together on. Their lengths will depend on you, for better or for worse. As time goes on, however, I know that they will all end eventually.
→ Introduction.
The very definition of an empty shell, Chrollo has had his humanity stripped of him from a very young age. The only people who have ever made him feel something are all members of the Troupe or are buried underground, burning in hell or soaring above the clouds as angels, either one a much better existence than the life they all spent in Meteor City. So, when he sees you, someone who has been able to make him feel something without interacting with him at all, without the use of Nen, without even brushing your shoulder against him while running to your train in a hurry, he does not know what to do.
He feels like he is back to being a small child, roaming the streets and looking through dumpsters for anything of value trying to ignore the pain of the cuts and infections all over his body. You bring up a feeling he has not felt in years; fear. Despite this situation being far, far different from those times, his brain thinks otherwise. It sends him a fight or flight response every time he sees you, as much as he hides it, much like he hides himself among the crowds and crowds of people as he follows you home. You have resurrected a beast thought to be long dead, something innate, animal, almost carnal, without even lifting a finger.
Is this who he is, he wonders? He finally feels something, for once, a sense of belonging and identity and… humanity.
It fills him with a sense of euphoria, while you view it with dread every time his Zetsu slips for just a moment. You always look over your shoulder during those times and start walking faster, but definitely not enough to deter him, and it will never be enough.
→ Darling Character Analysis.
Creative.
Chrollo has a deep curiosity about the world and appreciates a darling who shares this thirst for knowledge and intellectual growth. The form of expression doesn't matter to him, whether it's through writing, music, or eloquent speech. What truly matters to Chrollo is that his darling can communicate uniquely and authentically.
In a concerning manner, Chrollo imitates his darling’s behaviors to an extreme degree, devouring everything they do with an insatiable appetite. It doesn't matter how his darling presents their interests to him, whether it's straightforward or not. For instance, if his darling mentions their love for playing the violin after spending days alone with only Chrollo for company, the next day a brand new violin will mysteriously appear on the table beside their side of the bed. Chrollo will secretly learn to play the violin himself, the one he purchased as well as the one he gifted to his darling, practicing when they are not paying attention or are fast asleep.
As a result, his darling may find themselves obligated to reciprocate this behavior by learning Chrollo's favorite musical pieces.
He will experience immense joy, perhaps so much that he will hold them down on the bed and shower their face with kisses while they squirm and kick. Even when they eventually stop, he will continue, disregarding their pleas for him to stop.
As always, his strength is overpowering, leaving you with no action to do other than to say no.
At least there is some form of care after it is all over and done with, although it always somehow involves blending with whatever activity preceded it. For instance, if it was playing the violin, he would play you with both your favorite pieces on the gramophone he put near the bathtub while giving you a massage and preparing a relaxing bath for both of you.
It is painful, more so than the usual ache between your legs, because he pays attention to your desires and exploits them, even when he appears to be gentle. The pain lingers, no matter how hard you try to disconnect from everything happening around you.
He gives you everything you want, and it hurts because you always know why.
Bold.
A darling who never hides their intentions and just goes for it would spark some sort of admiration in Chrollo, especially if they use their boldness on him as a manipulation tactic.
He finds it entertaining most of all, but also there is a small part of him that is grateful for it because it makes his darling seem more human to him and not just something to own.
Boldness is quite a human trait, one that he so adores, especially with those he holds close like fellow members of the Troupe. It is also quite a trait that can easily be manipulated.
If you attempt to flirt to lower his guard, he will flirt back twice as hard.
When everything is over and done with, he will admit he knows exactly what you are doing as he kisses you again, you not kissing him back this time, as good as your acting was, much to your horror.
Resourceful.
Chrollo sees himself above the rest of man, a God in his way, so a darling who is quite similar to him he would adore.
That is not to say he could not fall for someone the complete opposite of him, someone who is impulsive and wears their heart on their sleeve and everything else he does not and cannot do, but the probability is low compared to a darling that plans everything and keeps their cards close, much as he does.
That makes escape attempts though, quite common, considering how resourceful his darling can be, like using a file to saw the metal in one of his safes or the iron on their leg keeping them in his penthouse. But he loves it, it is one of his favorite things about them.
It is endless entertainment to him, a sort of fight against himself, albeit he is much, much stronger when it comes to wits most likely. You can think on your feet as much as you want, but so will he.
He will mirror their actions until the end.
Independent.
Much like his beloved's cleverness, he derives amusement from their self-reliance. He takes pleasure in dismantling their barriers bit by bit until they have no choice but to rely on him completely.
Indeed, Chrollo views his beloved as simultaneously superior and inferior to him.
There is no equality between them, only a shifting power dynamic that his beloved will soon discover. They will never be certain if his actions, like retrieving their favorite snack from the top shelf of the pantry, are expressions of love or gestures of mockery.
At times, it may be both. At times, it may be neither.
His thoughts remain inscrutable, and he revels in it.
Cunning.
Chrollo loves it when your eyebrows furrow, when you’re deep in focus, especially when you are trying to come up with an escape plan and not noticing him right behind you, because of that expression on your face.
It’s unholy, the way he worships you with sacrifices both living and not. He wants to ruin you, yet keep you as you are. So, after a long time of pondering, he concludes. He will remake your shape, not enough to completely alter it, but just enough for your walls to tumble down and let him in. That is why while he will let you try and try again to escape, he will still attempt to get into your head. He is like a poison, a parasite, imprisoning you in your fears, insecurities, and plans that are doomed to fail sooner or later. It is what he wants to be, but he also wants to be more.
More and more he will be, and more and more he will take from you. It is only natural to want more than what is given, correct?
It is how Chrollo and the other Troupe members survived so long in Meteor City. They take and take, not caring who they hurt because it is human instinct to want and seize. He will argue as such whenever you try to guilt him because you will soon know that he holds no shame in whatever he does. He is selfish, and he wants to stay that way. He wants you to do the same, so he loves it when you fight him or try to run away because he knows it is only nature. Nature will run its course regardless of who wants it to not. Nature does not care, so why should he? Why should you?
But he also wants you to not be as selfish as him, despite him knowing that it most likely will not be unless you are broken down enough. But that is fine, Chrollo tells himself because that time will eventually arise.
Mature.
Maturity is an elusive quality that characterizes Chrollo, yet eludes him as well. It ebbs and flows like a breeze, carrying seeds to unknown destinations, beyond the perception of onlookers. Unfortunately, you, the observer, are an unwilling participant in the multitude of games he plays and the various disguises he dons. Occasionally, Chrollo can act impulsively, adopting yet another facade acquired from others in the interludes of his life. However, there are moments when he patiently waits for the opportune time to strike, akin to a cunning serpent. But this outcome relies on your level of vigilance or innocence. Perhaps, one day, you'll find it best to surrender to his will. Chrollo eagerly anticipates that day.
Hardworking.
Chrollo feels a mix of jealousy and a desire for control when he sees someone truly dedicated to their pursuits. He wants to replicate their passion and adopt a similar persona. At the same time, he is intrigued by their determination and ambition, as he wants to understand every aspect of their character. This admiration creates a thrilling challenge for him, as he seeks to imitate their drive while also appreciating it. He wants to both admire and exploit this trait to engage in a game of cat and mouse until they submit. Perhaps it would be good to do just that, to prevent yourself from getting hurt again.
Observant.
Chrollo finds great pleasure in the thrill of the hunt, especially when his keen-eyed darling begins to notice subtle indications of being watched. These signs, carefully planted by Chrollo himself, make his darling increasingly cautious. For Chrollo, taking risks brings great rewards. Although these signs are intentional, they still hold, don't they? A lingering footstep behind them. A faint smile on a stranger's face, an unfamiliar figure lurking in an alley near his companion's residence. These signals confirm that they are being stalked, and Chrollo is entertained by the fact that their sharp instincts assure them that this is no mere coincidence or misunderstanding.
Logical.
Chrollo's beloved should possess some semblance of logic, even if it deviates from conventional understanding. The key lies in their thought process, rather than adherence to reason. This cognitive approach, be it driven by emotions or rationality, captivates Chrollo. They meticulously evaluate facts, evidence, and outcomes, exercising caution in moments of perceived advantage, as well as during bouts of insecurity and danger, where they must think quickly on their feet. This mental calculus can either serve them well or inadvertently lead to their downfall. They carefully weigh the pros and cons, thus fueling Chrollo's insatiable desire for the fun of the chase, which hinges upon ultimately catching his beloved in the act.
A Leader.
If you hold a position of leadership, whether at work or among friends, this situation will be even more perplexing and distressing for you. In an instant, you were no longer in charge, forcibly removed from your familiar surroundings and confined. Your authority, influence, and status, which held great significance, have been stripped away. You may experience a profound sense of helplessness and powerlessness as if all your hard work has been unjustly taken from you. Chrollo, as your captor, will seek to exert even more control over you if you possess the characteristic of leadership. He finds it ironic that you are now compelled to follow him, forever robbed of the opportunity to lead while you remain in captivity.
Confident Outside, Insecure Inside.
Chrollo takes great pleasure in this particular attribute, as a mere few words, be they soothing or otherwise, have the power to manipulate you effortlessly.
You find yourself compelled to dance and sing, controlled by invisible strings or some intangible force, as there seems to be no other recourse in this predicament. After enduring prolonged isolation, you will unquestioningly revere Chrollo's words, no matter how distorted they may be, treating them as a testament to be praised. And Chrollo eagerly anticipates the arrival of that day.
It instills fear in you, as both of you are aware that such a day will inevitably arrive.
With a few choice words, Chrollo can elicit tears or smiles from you, a feat that few others have managed to accomplish.
You despise it, while Chrollo utterly loves it. Intelligent.
Intelligence encompasses a wide range of abilities, making it possible for Chrollo to be drawn to various types. However, what truly captivates him is a darling who possesses either linguistic or interpersonal intelligence, or even better, both. He desires someone who can effortlessly decipher people's intentions, using words that ignite a fire within him, even if those words are aimed at him or others.
The type or types of intelligence his darling possesses greatly influences their relationship. How he presents himself in public, whether as a kind gentleman or someone who keeps his distance, depends on their emotional intelligence and intuition. Additionally, Chrollo finds it incredibly appealing when his darling shares a specific interest that is completely new to him. This not only allows him to learn something new but also adds another mask to his ever-expanding collection.
Someone who is emotionally intelligent, like his beloved, would pose a challenge for him to manipulate. They possess the ability to understand him better than most, making it all the more satisfying for Chrollo when they succumb to his desires. After all, as Chrollo often says, the greater the risk, the greater the reward.
→ Yandere MBTI: CAMS. (Cruel, Aware, Manipulative, Strict)
Chrollo possesses great skill in dismantling individuals but lacks the necessary expertise to reconstruct them according to his vision. Unfortunately, you have become an unwilling participant in his experiments. Share with him your deepest anguish and vulnerabilities. Chrollo also portrays himself as a universal remedy, claiming that he holds the power to alleviate all your suffering and resolve your troubles, provided you heed his advice.
However, he waits until he has captured you, and your defenses have crumbled. In that moment of vulnerability, when you are cut off from the world, consumed by sorrow, unable to eat or speak, he reveals himself as a deity. He extends his hand to you, leading you along a path he meticulously constructed. This path is filled with suffering, a never-ending cycle of waiting for both of you. But at the end of this dark tunnel lies Chrollo's ultimate desire: your affection.
What is your ultimate pain, what is your ultimate wish? I can provide anything and everything for you, beloved if you do not stray away from the light.
If you happen to encounter him in public before he abducts you, it is because he willingly allows you to do so, aiming to create a favorable impression that will prevent you from suspecting his true intentions. However, if you do find yourself growing suspicious, it is not without justification. Nevertheless, he will persist in attempting to dispel your doubts by showering you with more gifts and displaying gentlemanly behavior such as pulling out your chair and kissing your hand or inner wrist. Yet, everything appears excessively flawless, to the extent of inducing nausea. Everything is so… flawless all of the time, but only when you are around him and him alone. Ironically, despite Chrollo's desire to dissuade your wariness towards him, his tender and kind gestures only evoke fear.
Chrollo effortlessly switches between portraying himself as a divine figure and a malevolent force, adapting to the circumstances at hand. On one hand, he displays an uncanny perfection, never making a mistake and seemingly possessing an understanding of your thoughts and emotions even before you do. On the other hand, he reveals his true nature as pure evil by casually initiating a bet to see who can consume the most alcohol, leaving you as an unwilling participant in this game of his. As soon as you become intoxicated, he unveils himself as the embodiment of wickedness, groaning as your clothes rip off and you cry his mouth is on yours and he keeps murmuring things into your ear that are so much more terrifying than sweet and-
Panaceas are eternal, refusing to fade away, regardless of your preferences. And so is this situation with me, my dearest.
Chrollo often repeats the phrase that he would sacrifice his life for you. However, there is doubt as to whether he truly means it. His actions, whether they be subtle or overt, inflict daily harm upon you, both mentally and physically. He disguises his hurtful behavior as casual conversation, a serious one, and everything in between. Chrollo's self-centered nature raises the question of why he would make such a claim.
You remain unaware of his true intentions, as Chrollo holds the knowledge of what is genuine and what is fabricated close to his chest. He perpetuates this ambiguity, ensuring that you will never uncover the truth. Once again, Chrollo finds himself in a position of guilt, but the specific charges remain unknown. As an impartial judge, you can't discern between deceit and honesty when you have never been taught the difference. Chrollo, determined to maintain this state of uncertainty, ensures that the truth remains elusive, no matter what lengths he has to go to to make sure it stays that way.
Chrollo possesses the ability to assume various roles. He can portray himself as a reliable partner rather than a deceitful captor, a compassionate individual rather than a mass murderer, a savior rather than someone in need of rescue... The possibilities are endless. This charade is not merely a game to him, but a necessity to maintain his façade. Even if he desired to, he could never remove these disguises, as he is oblivious to his true identity, because who is he without his lies? Nothing? It is a sorrowful predicament for both me and him, you will think someday, one that may prompt you to ponder whether it is Stockholm Syndrome or your inherent empathy for others.
At some point, you will allow him to take what he desires, whether it be when he reaches a breaking point and loses control, or when you become desperate for any form of human interaction.
Whenever you are in need, call out my name. I will be there to provide whatever cure you desire for the ailment at hand.
→ Unique Qualities.
Yandere Type:
Possessive.
Chrollo in one word would be selfish, and he himself would not deny that it suits him quite well.
Whatever he touches turns to gold in the most metaphorical sense. Whenever he sees something he wants, he will take it. Everything Chrollo takes either has rhyme and reason to it or none at all. He turns them into gold as a sign of who owns them. Even if you have fallen or will eventually fall prey to this touch. The golden touch immobilizes you so you never ever leave him.
Like King Midas, he is selfish, and he takes pride in it. He is never humble in anything he does. That much is certain. He holds you in his arms at night like he knows your weight in gold, that he could never lose you as he lost himself all those years ago. His kisses are gentle when he wants them to be, or they can be as aggressive as he wants them to be. You’ll come to learn that it does not matter what you want, what matters is what Chrollo wants. Does not having a say in your hell hurt? Or does not having a choice help you justify to yourself that you must escape this?
Monitoring. (Watches From Afar / Direct Contact)
Really, it is Shalnark that does most of the work here, but it is still worth mentioning, especially since what Chrollo cannot get through traditional stalking alone, he asks a very teasing Shalnark to get for him. Though, if Shalnark fails, Feitan is put to the task, much to Feitan’s quite less than subtle annoyance, not that he would ever voice it. Through this trio, the work is separated into three strategies.
Chrollo’s way of finding information is as classic as it comes. Either he is observing you go about your usual day, to that coffee shop you visit before going to work, to the library you frequent on the weekends, to a park you like walking in to see the birds and to get a change of scenery while you read, or he is inside your home, looking through drawers, sampling some leftovers even from your fridge, and making a literal list of things to buy you either later or in the present moment and things to take with him when he inevitably steals you away. Shalnark’s way comes through the internet, through placing cameras in your home and showing Chrollo the footage day in and day out, and perhaps even making an online friend of you if you are that social with other people. To him, it’s all child’s play, especially with finding family members and friends of yours for later, to perhaps ask them questions under the guise of a fellow friend of yours even. But the information that neither Shalnark nor Chrollo can get from stalking alone relies on Feitan, which is where all the finding people you know and love trickle down and puddle at the bottom of this sort of vial of differing plans. This is a last resort, sort of, because there are better things that Feitan can be doing, really, but he is nothing less than loyal to Chrollo and the other Spiders, so he’ll find people who may know the answers his boss was looking for.
He does not blame Chrollo, because if the information was something even Shalnark could not find, it is something so secretive that it could metaphorically be so beneath the waves that it is on the bottom of the ocean floor.
Feitan takes on the role of the more experienced diver because he wants to make Chrollo happy.
Thankfully for most of those you know, only a maximum of perhaps five people are flicked off before you are brought to whatever penthouse Chrollo has bought for the next month or so. The rest can continue with their lives as it was, not that Feitan cares or Shalnark cares or Chrollo cares, except for poor, poor you.
Removing Nuisances. (Murder Likelihood: 8/10)
Similarly to gathering information about you, dealing with rivals follows a similar sort of hierarchy. Chrollo follows them, albeit with far less care and perhaps even stealing a few things along the way, if the rivals are rich enough, though that is quite rare to happen. Instead, he would try to threaten them through anonymous emails or letters, perhaps even with a photo of them sleeping thrown into the mix. But if that does not work, Shalnark is up next, digging up past searches and buyings that the rival perhaps regrets or wants to remain hidden. It could be anything, really, and soon this information will start to spread like a flame until the rival’s reputation is utterly ruined. If the rival is still stubborn about wanting to be romantically involved with you, Feitan is last, burying a corpse underground that looks far from the human it once was by the end of it all, and Feitan, unsurprisingly, likes this sort of business rather than simply lying in wait for a friend of yours to unfortunately cross his path.
Perhaps even Chrollo will join Feitan in this session or sessions. It sometimes happens, when Chrollo is too pent up or feeling especially angry, although he hides it well with a smile that is a bit too wide, at this rival in particular. By the end of it, when both he and Feitan look like they took a bath in blood with their clothes on, Chrollo laughs, and Feitan snickers. He feels good, both of them do. Maybe this is why Chrollo is so taken with you, Feitan wonders. The power and control that comes with you… it’s utterly addicting, isn’t it?
Adam and Eve. (Absolute Isolation) (Kidnapping Likelihood: 10/10)
Before he takes you away, Chrollo makes sure that whatever he cannot replace he takes with him. This includes memorabilia, photos, family heirlooms if you have any, and even annotated novels you have on your bookshelf with notes sticking out of them like sore thumbs. He manages to take it all away easily, just like he does with you. Chrollo, despite how selfish he is, still wants in some capacity to make you happy. In your “adapting stage”, you may be able to hide away from him in the bathroom and lock the door, but at least you will have the choice to continue whatever hobbies you had before that Chrollo allows you to do while you are self-isolating.
He sees this small reason for you not to hate him entirely as a win. A triumph followed by many others to come.
Collector’s Habit. (Comfortable Imprisonment / Chains + Cages)
Chrollo’s penthouse is lined with things both of significance to him and you. Almost all of it is stuff that he has stolen, however, not that he cares. The paintings lined up in the dining room, the many pretty dresses put in your closet and you are forced to wear, the jewelry that he clasps onto your neck and fingers and wrists like chains, all of them are stolen in some capacity or another.
The things that he had stolen from your home all look like they belong there, almost. Your favorite pink beret placed next to a porcelain plate of macaroons and fruit a note telling you to get ready for a date later in the evening, an old photo of you placed in a frame that ought to be at least three hours worth of your salary, your most cherished books all lined up next to Chrollo’s own, all the covers and sizes somewhat similar to one another that it almost drives you mad. It brings Chrollo comfort, while it brings you ire.
Possibly, you’ll read one of his Dostoevsky pieces when you think he is gone, or you’ll try on one of his many fur coats when it gets too chilly or when you are curious. But curiosity always finds a way to kill the cat, because when you think you are not going to be caught, Chrollo finds a way to sneak up behind you and simply observe, smirking, even when you see him.
Attention-Seeking.
Chrollo has always been one to utterly enjoy being in the limelight. He loves acting parts, playing parts as classy as a Prince Charming to a part as scheming as a villain that has locked the princess in a tower. You get both, the unlucky person you are. He gives you roses and proclaims poems and confessions of absolute love and undying loyalty, but you then remember that he is the one that trapped you here, to begin with.
This life that was forced upon you is a fairytale very close to cracking and falling apart, but never does.
You are forced to be a helpless maiden waiting for a knight in shining armor to rescue her, but unfortunately for you, that knight is also the very evildoer in this story. So, you try to be your own knight, your own prince, but it will never be as close or as real as an actual hero. So, your attempts fail, regardless of how long they were in the making. You are not strong enough, not fast enough, and you simply cannot write your own ending in this whimsical tale if Chrollo is always aware of them.
But you come up with a plan that takes weeks upon weeks and months upon months for it to bear fruit.
You'll comply with his desires and make your getaway when he least anticipates it. Thus, you're compelled to dance with Chrollo, flawlessly and without objection, to safeguard your plan. However, with each movement, it feels as though nails are penetrating your foot, for you're uncertain if Chrollo is aware of your actions, and it fills you with immense fear.
But it is too late to back out of this, so you keep on doing this waltz.
Eliminating Rivals.
The basement, as always, is filled with dust and dirt with insects both alive and dead scattered on the floor next to Feitan’s equipment. Chrollo does not mind it, though, despite him still wearing the suit he wore when he was following you to the train station, the route you usually took to get back from your best friend’s house to your place. He does not like her, but he decides to let her still do whatever with her life as she pleases, unlike the person currently zip-tied to one of the rusty chairs with broken legs. As long as she does not try to seek to be more than friends with you, she’ll be safe from harm. Even though Chrollo’s gut is telling him that she will try, that she will kiss you, say “I love you” to you and maybe go on top of you in bed and-
He tries not to think about it, he is already behind schedule enough as it is, though he could just make Feitan do the work by himself. He tries not to think about it because he has to start preparing his penthouse for your arrival soon to come. He has already purchased some new comforter sets for the bedroom, along with some of the skincare products he knows you use in the bathroom. He’s busy, too busy to involve himself with something other than torturing this man and getting back on track. He focuses on the scene ahead, trying not to think about that friend of yours or the barista who always looks at you for a tad bit too long. If he let his emotions and not logic control him, he would have murdered half this town already and left love notes on their headstones.
He looks at the man, covered in his own blood, his own vomit, his own feces from being confined there for days before Chrollo arrived, deathly thin from starvation and dehydration. From what Feitan told him, Feitan gouged out one eye one day and the other eye the next day, leaving him blind and weeping, his vocal cords far-reaching past their limit, crying out gibberish like some sort of animal, something not too conscious enough of its surroundings to be anything considered even near human.
“Fei, do you hear that?”
“...I do.”
Sexual Drive: 5/10.
Chrollo knows most of what there is to know about sex, but not for his own pleasure. He uses this knowledge mainly in intelligence gathering, when Shalnark, Feitan, and even Pakunoda are not able to get the information the Troupe needs for their next heist. He holds sex with little to no emotional value because of this, since his love for the other Troupe members is high above what little admiration he could possibly hold for those people that he subtly interrogates while fucking them as gently or as hard as they want him to, whispering in their ear when they are feeling their most euphoric, asking them what dons are trading with each other and with what, asking them how the president of this company makes so much when the value of their imports and exports don’t exactly match up, asking them how exactly many secret passageways this mansion has… it’s endless, really, how much information he can get out of them. The human body is so vulnerable, especially when pain mixes with pleasure or pleasure mixes with pain or pain is alone or please is alone. Chrollo is grateful for it.
But when it comes to sex with you, Chrollo then finally sees the emotional side of this spectrum. Your bodies bond and become one, melting into one another as you both moan out each other’s name, lovingly yours and lovingly his.
This development does not surprise him because he does want an emotional bond with you in some sense of the word, he wants you to worship him just as much as he does with you.
Let us go, shall we? Before you could answer, his hand grabs your wrist, his grip making it impossible for someone like you to break away. We… have plenty to talk about and do, correct?
Violence Towards Darling: 3/10.
Don’t take this as a sign that he will not use violence on you at all. Believing that Chrollo's violent tendencies towards you are limited to slapping or ignoring you is a naive assumption. You soon realize that attempting to strike him is futile due to his lightning-fast reflexes. Fighting back against Chrollo will not resolve anything. Instead, you come to understand that he wants you to be like a pet, constantly performing tricks and obediently following his commands.
You wonder if he would also display you like a trophy. Uncertain, you contemplate whether or not you want to find out. Eventually, a few nights later, you dream of a life without Chrollo's constant control, where he does not touch you possessively and parade you around expensive events. You recognize that you are nothing more than his lapdog, his pet, his trophy.
However, Chrollo claims to see something more in you. Is he being genuine in his belief? Do you really desire to uncover the truth?
Violence Towards Others: 8/10.
In his search for you, he maintains his usual calm demeanor, though his eyes reveal his inner turmoil. Anger fills his vision, overshadowing any light. Surely, you couldn't have gone too far. He frantically scans the penthouse until he finds you on the balcony... in the company of someone else.
“Feeling intrusive, are we?”
He pays no mind to the identity of this person, although it's likely they are a former lover or at the very least, a love interest. Your declarations of love and reciprocated kisses leave no room for doubt. How they managed to reach this height is irrelevant to him.
Without uttering a single word, he opens his book, channeling an unseen force from his hands to your ill-fated companion, causing them to plummet to the ground amidst screams from both of you.
After a few moments of tears, mumbled apologies, and the utterance of their name, he informs you that a serious discussion will take place later. With that, you silently follow him back inside. He will contact Shizuku to handle the cleanup of the body in due time.
Vanilla / Kinky
Favorite Kinks:
Begging.
Both inside and outside the bedroom, Chrollo likes having you beg, from you begging him to let you orgasm to you begging him to get you that new book in that series you were quite interested in before you got stolen away. It’s a power dynamic no doubt, it makes him feel wanted by you, needed by you, loved by you. That’s all he wants, really, your love and devotion and for you to promise to be his sun and moon and stars, for you to say he is bigger and more important to me than the sky, for you to hold him, for him to hold you.
No matter how much time passes, how many different places you both stay in and leave, how many countries you visit for leisure or for Chrollo's next big scheme, he refuses to break this unhealthy pattern, even for your sake. He enjoys this routine, so why would he alter it? He will occasionally tease you for being rather selfish, even as you both grow older and wiser and your hairs both white and your skin wrinkly. He will even say it to you when your corpse is resting peacefully in its coffin, as he sheds tears for the first time in many years.
Every time please, Chrollo, please, I… comes out of your mouth, it sounds like to him, the most beautiful martial vow.
He locks each and every one into the deepest crevices of his heart like unwilling prisoners, despite how small and cold and dead his said heart is, at least to you. They don’t want to stay, but they have to because I want them there in remembrance. Just like you. Poetic, is it not?
Voyeurism.
The screen in front of him showed you coming out of the shower, your body dripping with soapy water with a towel on your body that barely covered anything and a smaller towel covering your hair that was put up in a clip. Shalnark placing cameras all around your place made things much easier to know things about you that he could not find out through traditional stalking alone. He is grateful for him.
Slowly, as he smiled, one of his hands went into his pants, then his boxers as he caressed the half-hard thing beneath them both. He kept groaning as it got harder and harder, his breathing getting faster and faster. He is not sure how much time had gone by, but he knows that there was now liquid, slow and warm, running down his legs and is all over his hand, and as always, you were none the wiser.
Oral. (Receiving)
Your knees are on the floor, having been there so long it hurts. Your neck is curved backward and your mouth is in pain from his large manhood in there like an unwanted intruder, as you desperately gag and choke and cry. The only reason you have not successfully gotten away is because one of his hands is grabbing the back of your head and pulling you every time you pull, hopelessly still trying to fight.
Your hands are tied behind your back with silk to not damage the skin of your wrists, while you desperately try to claw your way out of them.
You’re in the clothing that he wants you to wear, as usual, though calling it clothing would be an overstatement as it hardly covers anything. A black thong with a short skirt, along with a low-cut bralette. As always, you have no say in the matter, and even though you are unable to utter a word, he showers you with affectionate words, as fake as they seem.
Favorite Parts:
Your Thighs.
It is more of a comfort thing than anything else, really. The way that it is one of the softest parts of you, one of the meatiest parts of you, and, most of all, the easiest parts of you to grab and hold and kiss and press hickeys into and fuck.
It’s only natural for a thief to want to keep their prized possessions close to them, is it not, my darling?
While Chrollo still places you all of his mementos and diamonds and paintings among the many, many other things he has hidden away in his current penthouse, seeing you as better than all of those things combined, he still sees you, in some ways, as something to be sanctioned, whether it be for your own safety or just his pure, unadulterated selfishness, or perhaps both.
So, he holds onto your thighs at all times pretty much, squeezing the flesh for either attention or just because he needs some security that you are still there with him, no matter how close you physically are to him.
He will occasionally rest his head on your lap, reciting his book aloud while you are obliged to listen. He never dozes off because he is too cautious for that, although he yearns for it. His desire to lie down and have you run your fingers through his hair as he gradually drifts to sleep almost surpasses all his other needs. It may sound like a fantasy for him, no pun intended.
However, it would be a nightmare for you, whether he falls asleep or not. But as always, Chrollo hardly cares. If you dare to object, your longer skirts, shorts, and one pair of sweatpants will vanish for approximately a month, only to be replaced by outrageously short clothes that barely qualify as attire.
They’re soft, just like your lips, your voice, just everything else about you, you, you. It’s the parts that most perfectly describe you, he’ll say, forcing you to tolerate all his touches because his hand is not going anywhere, just like the rest of me, sweetling.
Just stay still and let me see how plush you are just for me, alright?
If he ignores all the goosebumps and the shivers, he can assume that this is what heaven feels like. It must be, right, dearest?
Your Collarbone.
Despite everything else about him, Chrollo can be a sort of traditionalist when he wants to be. This applies quite rarely though, only really affecting the relationship he has with you, both inside and outside of the bedroom.
He likes how the bones stick out, the crevices just so perfect for him to slide the tip of his fingers across, just so perfect for him to kiss and bite, just so perfect to hang necklaces from so they are on a sort of diagonal and reflect the light, making them shine and making them highlight the hickeys that have been pressed into them, right below them, and right above them…
He forces you to wear all kinds of accessories and low-cut shirts that he can find, not caring how much money it would cost, just to see some diamond-encrusted choker on your neck. He says in the calmest voice he can muster that it is no big deal, darling, just trust me and I got this for you and you alone, now why don’t you be a sweetheart and put it on? You might think that a choker and a collar are essentially the same, as they both tightly grip the neck like a suffocating hold. However, Chrollo pays no mind to this, as owners don't concern themselves with their pets realizing they're wearing such a sign of possession.
Your Feet.
Chrollo appreciates art in his own unique way, specifically when it comes to sculpting and realism. He finds your feet to be truly exquisite, along with the rest of you. Despite your attempts to ignore it or cover them up, he has a clear fondness for your feet. Your toes are round, your heels are perfectly shaped, and your soles fit perfectly in his hands when he places heeled shoes on them. In secret, he also enjoys the scent of your feet, although he would never admit it. He would rather die than confess.
Your feet are cute and can become sweaty and sticky, making them easy to hold onto, just like your thighs.
Those traits really remind him after you orgasm, with you of course begging repeatedly for it a few moments before he lets you.
It's a hidden pleasure for him, even if you were to discover it, he would keep it to himself. You won't be able to get any information from him. If you do happen to find out, don't be surprised when a substantial portion of your jewelry drawer is filled with anklets.
His Fingers.
Chrollo admires his hands more than most other parts of his body. He trims his fingernails every two weeks, putting hand cream every time he steps out of the bath, never skipping this routine of his. The reason he admires his hands so much is that despite all the bloodshed and other dirty acts he does with them, they remain on the outside clean. It boosts his ego, in a way.
There are just so many uses for them, he loves flipping the pages of his favorite novels with them, he loves cutting food for both you and himself with them, he loves squeezing your thigh as either a warning or a sign of love… there are just endless possibilities, at least from his perspective.
But his new favorite thing is to fuck your clit with them, and yours alone.
Is it a privilege, then, that only yours can bring him such joy? Whether you believe it to be so or not, it holds no significance, for Chrollo finds pleasure in this, and only his satisfaction matters, given that he is the one who has taken you captive.
Please, Chrollo, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, I can’t take this anymore I-
His movements are flawlessly executed, almost unfairly so. They are deliberate yet unhurried, demanding your submission. However, he will only grant you this pleasure if you plead for it. The act of begging will consume several minutes, perhaps even a minimum of two, leaving you in a state of desperation. Meanwhile, he will revel in your discomfort, relishing the power he holds over you. This perverse satisfaction is what he adores the most.
As you wish.
Inevitably, you will find yourself succumbing to your desires, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he provides. Despite your stubbornness, your willpower will eventually crumble under the weight of his expertise.
He derives immense pleasure from knowing that he alone possesses the ability to bring you such ecstasy. This knowledge fuels his ego, heightening his sense of self-importance.
His Words.
Chrollo has an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but he also derives great pleasure from imparting knowledge and amusingly embarrassing others. And when it comes to you, he takes it to another level.
He constantly showers you with compliments, comparing you to famous heroines like Juliet and Ophelia from classic literature. He insists that you possess the same beauty as any damsel in distress from those timeless tales. To prove his point, he even offers to acquire paintings of these fictional princesses and damsels for you to admire and compare yourself to.
Wanting a break from his constant attention, you agree to his proposal. Besides, you get the bonus of owning some exquisite artwork. What could go wrong, right?
Well, it turns out to be a colossal mistake.
Upon waking up, you find yourself surrounded by what feels like an entire museum filled with paintings of fictional damsels, duchesses, princesses, and queens. The overwhelming presence of these artworks threatens to suffocate you. And to make matters worse, Chrollo insists on meticulously going through each painting one by one, forcing you to endure this ordeal that could very well last for days.
Your legs resemble hers, your lips resemble hers, your feet resemble hers... every aspect of your physique and the muse's physique that he remarks upon, leaves you feeling incredibly exposed, more so than ever before.
The duration of this process is absolutely exasperating. It leaves you feeling as defenseless as a lamb anticipating its fate in the hands of a butcher.
His Knowledge.
Chrollo truly treasures his knowledge, viewing it as divine nectar from the heavens, if indeed it exists. This belief is so strong that he occasionally overestimates it, taking every opportunity to display it in a way that impresses you more than anything else he does, both inside and outside of the bedroom. Whether intentionally or not, he will state the obvious, like pointing out that the creature you're observing in the rose garden during your “date” is not a slug, but a snail.
It frustrates you, but you acknowledge that it could be worse–he could forbid you from venturing outdoors altogether.
Surely, that counts for something, doesn't it?
…Doesn’t it?
Fantasies. (Consent / Non-Con) (Coercion / Brute Force)
If one were to make a comparison, they would compare you to a piece of art so beautiful, that it is instinct to witness, praise, and worship until their bodies all turn to mere dust, in which they will be swept away by those alive who do not want your refinement to be stained by those who have passed on. For what is a beauty without a beholder? Chrollo will gladly take up that role, as he is the only one worthy of seeing such a piece. You, leaning on the pillows, legs crossed, hair put up in a neat bun, wearing makeup that he has said he likes on you before, looking up at him like he has come to bless you with a mere glimpse of the divine power he holds, wearing the black lingerie he chose for you to wear this evening, made of lace with patterns of roses scattered about.
This is his welcome home gift, from both himself and you. He may have requested that you could partake in this, but since you are doing it without any complaint but instead loving doing the task at hand, he could consider him soon becoming one with your body for the evening to be an award from you for all the work he has done for the Troupe these past few days.
If such a prize is laid before him, ripe for the taking, why wouldn’t he? So, without so much as uttering another word, he starts to undress as you watch, a mix of genuine joy and interest laid out on your face. He hasn’t even touched you yet, and with this simple act, you are bound to him with the invisible thread of lust.
When his boxers are all the way down, he approaches, and you don’t blink, wanting to take it all in. Shall the fun start? When your lips meet, all reservations that you once had dissolve, as few as they are now.
(But don’t think Chrollo respects your boundaries completely when it comes to sex; if you deny him enough, over the course of months and months, he will break his composure and show you where you belong; underneath him.)
→ Strengths.
Realities. (Your Own, His Avow) (Patient / Impatient)
The being that is above you in this bed is unlike any human you have ever met before. His looks and personality are all artificially crafted, like some automaton made to resemble actual living things, but do not stray far from their roots, what they were made for, and what they were made of. I’m real, you think, I’m real. Chrollo is not.
He’s aware of everything you do. Every step you take. Every word you say.
He is aware. He possesses knowledge of all things, much like the god he feigns to be. His understanding of emotions is as keen as his logical reasoning, resulting in a situation of dread that pertains solely to you.
It instills fear within you because he holds the key to all knowledge, while you remain in not-so-blissful ignorance.
→ Weaknesses.
Lotus Eater. (Dreamy Idleness)
Chrollo, despite his attempts to appear superior to others, is not without his flaws. If those around him stroke his ego, he becomes overly confident. Yet, if one were to try the opposite approach, it would have the same effect as boosting his ego. He is cursed with arrogance, always believing he is superior to others, even some members of the Troupe. Perhaps you can use this knowledge to your advantage. Faking affection could lower his guard and further inflate his narcissism. It is a strategic move, preferable to engaging in a physical fight that you cannot possibly win.
Therefore, when you believe you have the opportunity to escape when his guard seems lowered enough that he won't immediately pursue you, you run. At that moment, his facade will crack, his eyes will grow emptier, and the hollow husk chasing after you will not resemble the Chrollo you once knew.
→ Daily Life.
Welcome. (Day One)
Chrollo remains a mystery begging to be left unsolved.
He rises at his usual hour each morning, and it's a rarity to witness him actually sleeping. His breakfast consistently consists of sausage and eggs, seasoned solely with salt and pepper, as he avoids other spices. He purchases fresh bread from whichever local bakery happens to be closest for the week or a few days ahead. Occasionally, if you're fortunate, he may bring back something sweet while out and about, such as a chocolate-filled croissant or a cherry jam-filled danish. However, trust, whether in platonic or romantic relationships, is something that must be earned.
Interestingly, it appears that regardless of the circumstances, Chrollo seems to possess a certain level of trust that you won't make any foolish choices. On your initial day in this penthouse, he simply greeted you, patiently waiting until the effects of the drugs wore off, allowing you to cry on the bed until your tears ran dry. He comforted you, softly shushing you and gently caressing your cheeks with his thumb.
Yet, he never becomes too intimate.
Was that his motive? Is that why he opted to masquerade as a compassionate gentleman rather than a captor? Instead of asserting his authority, he chose to console you, demonstrating that such solace could be snatched away in an instant. You were oblivious to his true intentions. On that initial day, you wept more than any other day, the taste of mint on Chrollo's breath and the aroma of coffee still etched in your memory. He would inflict further harm, and for the sake of your sanity, you believe it is preferable for him to remain an enigma, shielding you from the repulsive monster lurking beneath his attractive facade.
What Could Be. (And What Is)
Strangely enough, there are still parts of your life after Chrollo has captured you that would still sort of count as normal enough that you could turn the other way and ignore all other cosmic horrors that are happening in the general vicinity. You could still decide what you want to eat and drink that day, what to watch, what to read, what time to wake up and what time to go to bed, what to write in your diary (that not-so-strangely has its lock missing now), listen to the morning birds or to the music that Chrollo allows you to listen to (which is most of it, shockingly)... the list really is endless, really, aside from a few things that you forget sometimes, much to future you’s horror.
But sometimes you forget on purpose, to divulge in the fantasy Chrollo has carefully crafted for both of you, either to fool him or your walls really are as broken down as he wants them to be.
He finds it nice when you ask him questions about whatever place he has rented for the two of you for the time being, the location at hand most likely being related to the Troupe’s plans to steal whatever is of value. He likes to show off, and to listen to him talk for hours requires the patience of a saint.
→ Punishments. (No Punishments / Tortuous Punishments)
Welcome Again. (Failed Departure)
The penthouse looked to be the same after you ran out the entrance door that you lockpicked. The fireplace was still lit. There was still a smell of peppermint in the air along with some scent of coffee, lattes maybe. Everything looks the same, just as it always has. It nearly scares you more, how calm and warm this place is, than the hand that has a grip on your wrist so tight that you feel like he will dislocate it in the very least.
But he does not look angry, but that smile is not good at all either.
He does not say anything as he closes the door behind him, turning the lock on the door so it will remain that way. He does not say anything as he continues to drag you, albeit a bit more tight in his grip now that you are within his grasp once again. Whatever you say goes in one ear and out the other, and you know better than to struggle and scream, because you do not want this day to result in yet another bloodbath, and it would be useless anyway, even if someone came to rescue you. That is why, like the sort of pet you were trained to be, you bite your tongue and obey. He seems to not be angry now, but who knows what awaits you once you are in the bedroom, where most talks and actions are the consequences of your supposed crimes. You can’t really breathe, but that is alright. Chrollo will help you every step of the way after all, as the dutiful owner he has come to be.
Perhaps a pet is all you will be.
He wants you to look up at him like some god, some deity that you worship with all your being. But you can’t, not yet, and Chrollo knows that. Perhaps some methods unknown to you but known to him can help, can’t it?
He hopes so for your sake, but what do you hope for, wish for? You don’t know, and maybe never will.
Venus Fly Trap. (Temptations of a Liar)
Chrollo is well aware of the diverse array of predatory flowers, each manifesting in its own unique way. Perhaps you too possess such characteristics, with your alluring fragrance and honeyed speech, deceiving him into a false sense of security before stripping it all away. However, there is one crucial detail you seem to have overlooked. What transpires when a venus fly trap ensnares a prey that surpasses its own size and devours its own kind and others, rather than the typical fly it ensnares?
Undoubtedly, they suffer. Yet it appears that this lesson has eluded you thus far, hasn't it?
You have displayed kindness, sweetness, and a willingness to comply, within certain limits. Undoubtedly, you possess some degree of skill, though not enough to deceive him, the enigmatic masked orchestrator of this theatrical production.
Therefore, it is without much remorse that he renders you motionless with delicate silk and persuasive words that possess the potential to sting, should you ever dare to push him too far.
However, deep down you are aware of the truth, just as he is aware too. If he doesn't take a firm stance, what other undesirable situations will you find yourself in? With a single hand, he flips open the book, while using the other to shush you.
“A shame,” He says, turning the pages. “A crying shame, really. The sky is so lovely tonight… Who knows when we will get this scenery again, hmm?”
You don’t know what he will do to you.
…Does he?
→ Quotes.
Hello.
Greetings. It is truly an honor to meet you face to face like this at long last, [First]. There is no need to introduce yourself to me as I already know who you are. That, and… hmm. That, and I think you are not all there right now. Please, I recommend relaxing and listening to what I have to say. But just to make sure, try to speak to me… as expected.
Chat: Ballet.
All dancers must put themselves fully into whatever moves they do. I suppose that can be the same thing for you and me.
Chat: Athenaeum.
Libraries and archives are some of the places I enjoy going to the most. Maybe if you continue behaving, I’ll take you to one nearby.
Chat: Reimbursement.
Quid pro quo, darling; I assume you know the best ways to compensate me for the broken locks?
When It Rains.
The rain is perfect for a day of staying inside. Though, hehe… you’ll be indoors no matter what, right? Good thing you have me as company today. …What do you mean? I leave sometimes, mainly to get you things might I add. I suggest being more grateful if you don’t want that koala plush to disappear.
After It Rains.
Sigh… the smell of morning dew and the sounds of birds chirping… simply marvelous. Let’s go dance on the balcony, but be sure not to get your new shoes wet and slip. I would hate to have to bring Machi again.
When Thunder Strikes.
Aw, are you going to cling to me so cutely whenever there is a storm? I wouldn’t mind that, I’ll even give you more blankets to hide in if you wish. …Wait, dearest, come back… sigh… of course she hid under the bed again.
When It Snows.
So cold out there, isn’t it? If you ask nicely, I’ll give you back your socks and slippers. Go on.
When the Sun Is Out.
Let’s go on a walk tonight when it’s not so hot out. The sunset’s beauty will only be second to your own.
Good Morning.
Good morning, love, I made coffee. Feel free to use one of the creamers I got you, and there is oat milk near them somewhere in the fridge… Hm? I have never really been a fan of sweet drinks, so black coffee tastes good to someone like me.
Good Afternoon.
Sure, you can cook lunch. But allow me to cut the ingredients and heat sources. We know how you used them last time.
Good Evening.
It’s so quiet you can only hear the crickets chirping. It’s quite a romantic atmosphere, isn't it?
Good Night.
Ah ah ah. No bed for you yet. Give me a goodnight kiss first. No, you can’t sleep on the couch either. Or the floor. If you keep refusing, I’m going to ask you more questions than yesterday. …That’s better.
About Chrollo: Tattoos.
There is something comforting about them, I think. No matter what the person does to reject it, it will stay. The permanence of such an act should also be what you should be. Now, bite me again and you will sooner than later find yourself in a tattoo parlor. Am I understood?
About Chrollo: Lies.
Don’t say that, my love. I’m not lying to you, I’m just picking what parts of the truth to show and hide. There is no harm in that, I think.
About Us: Home.
This place is much more human with you in it. Do with that as you wish.
About Us: Cull.
Life and death have a sort of agreement. A contract if you will. The more lives taken by your hands, the more your own life is put at risk. Quite poetic. Like everything else in life, there must be balance.
About Us: Matrimony.
Being bound by just a few words… The very idea is beautiful in my opinion. If you want, we can get married. It is not like anyone else is going to put that pretty ring finger of yours to good use, anyway.
About Us: Panoply.
Anything you want you shall receive. Just say the word. Unless it is already here, which is a possibility.
About You: Humanity.
The human psyche is truly fascinating, don’t you agree? All it takes is a few words or a few actions and it all comes crumbling down. Like you.
About You: Epiphany.
Not a man, not ten men, not a hundred men can ever provide me with the same joy you give me. You’re special, you know? You make me feel… alive.
Something to Share.
“Be glad as children, as birds in the sky.” A quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky. But… birds are constantly migrating to better places, so really, are they grateful and glad for the gift of life?
Interesting Things.
I see you are doing experiments with pH again. Just be sure to not use all of the vinegar, please. And no, vinegar cannot melt a door, for the final time.
About Nobunaga.
He thinks more with his heart than his head. But he means well for the Troupe. Or himself when he makes someone call to order takeout for him.
About Feitan.
I learned a lot of torture methods from him. He truly is the best at what he does. As for social skills… not so much. But everyone has their ups and downs, and that is Fei’s.
About Machi.
One of the most loyal people I have ever met. Also one of the most in tune with their wants and needs. If she thinks of something to say, she’ll say it without a doubt. She is very transparent when it comes to that kind of thing.
About Hisoka.
Hisoka… he is very… out there, isn’t he? But he is valuable to me, so I give him free rein to do whatever he wishes.
About Phinks.
One of the physically strongest. Though also one of the only ones to ever get a laugh out of me. Shizuku once asked him why he did not have any eyebrows, and the way he stopped talking and stared at the ceiling caused us all to snicker. Feitan did earn a blow to the head by the end of it because Phinks does not hit women… He is much more gentlemanly than he appears.
About Shalnark.
When it comes to computers and such, Shalnark is the person to do it. He was the one to convince me to get a newer phone model and taught me how it worked. He kept chuckling as he did, and every question I had asked earned a wide smile in response but no actual answer. He says I am an… “old man at heart…?”
About Franklin.
He is not the most talkative one out there, but if ever comes to games to decide matters, he is the one for the job. Once, Uvogin betted fifty thousand Jenny if he ever beat me in chess. Franklin managed to almost win in the end, but he gave up at the last moment. He said he couldn’t bear to do that to me.
About Shizuku.
At long last, she at least remembers my name. She is quite charming in her own way… I see why Franklin took on a sort of caretaker role for her.
About Pakunoda.
Paku… Paku is one of the sweetest people I know. Whenever I didn’t feel well, she was the first one to come and help me feel better. She even fed me her rations, regardless of the tough times we were put through. I should ask her to make me soup again, I have missed the taste of it…
About Bonolenov.
When he trusts you enough, he has quite a humorous and proud side. He is very proud of his culture, and as someone who did not have one as a child, I find it very admirable.
About Uvogin.
I swear he could drink enough beer to kill a whale and still not be satisfied. The same goes for fights. Any challenge goes, whether that is an eating or video game contest.
About Kortopi.
His copying ability is quite useful, and Nobunaga wanted to give him a haircut using his sword. He declined of course, much to Nobunaga’s disappointment. …Hm? A copy of you? No, you are priceless, and nothing can ever compare, even a version of you that does everything I ask. There is a charm to your disobedience. That, and Kortopi cannot make living copies.
More About Chrollo: I.
Come. I got you some books for us to read together. But before you touch them, I must tell you that you can only read them while on my lap. Isn’t that such a great deal, dearest?
More About Chrollo: II.
“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven…” Yes, I can see the parallels between this line and myself. Is that why you decided to show me this? …Oh, you just wanted an excuse to call me Lucifer again. Do what you wish, I suppose. But please put that book back on the shelf where it came from when you are done. You know I hate it when you mess up the categories. …Hm? Don’t do that, or I won’t get you any more mochi. …You know my threats aren’t empty, my dear.
More About Chrollo: III.
…Do you need something from me, dearest? No? …Why am I asking? So you just happen to be pressing your chest against my arm for no apparent reason? …I see. Well, if you want my attention so badly, who am I to refuse?
More About Chrollo: IV.
Yes, that note is from me. That gift is also from me. Open it, please. …You should try wearing that set next time. Your thighs will stand out better. You were the one that was asking last night, not me. Ah, you are feeling rather adventurous these past few weeks, aren’t you? …Looking for something? Is this it? You know, I’m disappointed in you, to put it frankly. I thought you were coming around. You know what happens now, don’t you?
More About Chrollo: V.
Time has certainly sped by, hasn’t it? Let me give you a word of advice. No matter what happens, always remember those who have gotten you to where you are now. As a result, your situation can prove to be much less isolating that way. …Yes, that includes me. For when you are alone, my dear, your mind always finds a way to eat you whole.
Chrollo’s Hobbies.
Leading an orchestra and executing a grand theft operation share fundamental principles. It is imperative to maintain a commanding presence, ensuring that others adhere to your lead. Collaboration becomes the pivotal factor in achieving triumph during such endeavors.
Chrollo’s Troubles.
I find it perplexing how some individuals effortlessly navigate life with a serene demeanor, rooted in their unwavering sense of self. Maybe it stems from a twinge of envy, or perhaps there's another elusive element at play. But being envious is part of being human, is it not?
Favorite Food: Black Squid Ink Carbonara.
It is briny, and salty, like the sea. Quite refreshing as well, especially paired with homemade pasta. Only the best quality is allowed. …I am not being too picky. Do you know how many children in Meteor City have grown up never eating from a fast food place, much less a local restaurant? I simply am greedy because I can now. I couldn’t before, and that is why I do so as an adult.
Favorite Food: Opulence.
As an adult, my current ability to indulge in greed is a newfound privilege that I couldn't have experienced previously. Hence, I find it impossible to resist the temptation of adding an extra serving of truffle or caviar to my plate.
Least Favorite Food: Canned Cabbage.
One of the very few foods I refused to eat unless absolutely necessary was canned cabbage. It was slimy and always came in watery vinegar with mostly moldy parts… I was desperate, but not desperate enough to eat that. Machi, Nobunaga, and Phinks all agreed. Feitan didn’t, much to everyone’s annoyance.
Least Favorite Food: Waste.
Paku, Machi, and Feitan had a sort of pact that they forced on the rest of us to never throw away things that were still edible. According to Shalnark and Uvogin, moldy food is still edible. Phinks and I disagreed but… we got outvoted.
Receiving a Gift: I.
Indulging in scrumptious meals truly possesses the power to alleviate all worries. So, how can I express my gratitude?
Receiving a Gift: II.
Oh? Thank you, dearest. …For your own good, you better not have put salt instead of sugar this time.
Receiving a Gift: III.
Ah... considering you seem to have a moment to spare, would you be interested in sitting down and enjoying a shared reading session? The choice of material is entirely up to you, of course.
Chrollo’s Birthday.
You are such a prize, you know? You’re in an outfit worth its weight in gold, actually, now that I think about it, diamonds. Autumn has set in, the weather gets colder, and the food gets warmer. Perfect time for spending quality time with someone, wouldn’t you say so? Please, allow me to do this with you, [First]. I have never really cared for this day if I am being honest, but… now that you are here, I feel like new opportunities are around every corner.
Birthday.
Happy birthday, [First]. Within reason, I would like to treat you to whatever your heart desires. Food, art, wine; anything, just tell me, alright? I will see to it. …Heh. I’m afraid a fall from this penthouse will not be enough to kill me. …No, I am not going to put it to the test, since I am certain about it. Please think of something else. The world is your oyster, dearest. But… remember that I can always close it before you can get to the pearl.
Feelings About You: Ethereal.
This feeling… I haven’t felt something like this since… Hmm? Am I? Quite the observation.
Feelings About You: Euphonious.
…I miss your voice, you know. I always like it when you get caught up in a topic that interests you, no matter what it is. …But last time I took the gag off and took you out, you behaved quite terribly… Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll take the gag off, and I’ll get you something related to your interests, and then we can talk about it. Does that sound good to you?
Feelings About You: Eternity.
We shall be together forever, bonded at the hip if we must be. I promise you. Do not worry about the details. It does not matter if you like it or not, because I will take care of whatever obstacles get in our way. Whether that obstacle is you or any… outsiders.
Feelings About You: Elision.
Do know that I do mean it when I say that I do want to make you happy. Yes, our relationship is less than ideal, but in the end, just know my feelings for you are indeed sincere. …I’m not exactly willing to take criticism, but I could try, perhaps. If you like to do so, I am willing to compromise, though.
→ Conclusion.
You never hear Chrollo in his movements, but you do in his actions when he wants you to.
He puts far more effort into the little things, the details than outright saying his feelings for you, or just telling you his threats. That mysterious gift that appeared on your bed while you were away at work, that just so happens to contain some of your favorite sweets?
The bouquet on your kitchen table that was placed while you were asleep? The box of dozens if not at least a hundred pictures of you by your mailbox when you tried to file a police report?
Chrollo is patient to a fault. You will never know what is happening, at its fullest, until it is far too late.
You can put as much blame on yourself as you want, and hate yourself as much as you want, for not realizing how dangerous this entire situation is. But this position under Chrollo’s thumb is so much more horrifying than you could ever imagine, so do not blame yourself for not noticing everything at once.
That is not to say Chrollo won’t try to degrade you into thinking this is all your fault.
Your walls will be as good as broken and crumbled down sooner than you think.
#aya analyses#yandere hxh#yandere chrollo#yandere chrollo x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere hunter x hunter x reader#yandere hxh x reader#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere chrollo lucilfer#chrollo x reader#hxh x reader#yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader#hxh smut#hunter x hunter x reader
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C.B. headcanons because I'm insane about him!!!!
(productions will be specified if needed ^^)
Original London Cast C.B.
He sometimes forgets that he's not on radio and uses 10-codes while talking to people face to face
He has dyed his mustache before for the rockies when they were 'younger' (or however trains age)
Always has a small comb in his pocket even though he never uses it bc of his hat lmao
He loves 80s slang sm and is always using it. He says tubular and radical unironically and thats kind of iconic
He is SUCH a morning person! It's almost annoying how early he gets up and moving. He is out of the house by 6a and he just has to meander the tracks bc no one is up and work doesn't start until 8a
Pre-2018 Bochum Caboose
He wears suspenders and its so so bad. The ugliest things you've ever laid eyes on
TMI doesn't exist between him and Dinah.
^ Off of that: They've been friends since she arrived at the yard! I like to imagine that they got there around the same time, maybe Caboose a few months before
Seasonal depression like a mf but in the summer. He HATES the summer sm because he doesn't like the heat, and then he and his partner (either Electra or Greaseball bc i can't pick) can't cuddle without sweating to death
The can of pomade hates to see him coming. He uses so much, frankly TOO much, product in his hair. It's like a ritual that he takes like half an hour to do his maybe 6 inches of hair.
He isn't a morning person. Unlike OLC c.b., you cannot get him up before 8 and he is late to work almost, if not every day. How he hasn't been fired is a question no one can find the answer to.
im not doing B.V. because I strongly dislike him🩷 (im working on it but its so hard to like him when olc cb and caboose are right there) (im sorry bv likers😔)
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is the way you interpret the stex characters, are they robots or a mix? since they don't feel pain, but bleed oil etc. what is the lore? are they built at a young age or are they built into adults? (p.s your art is delicious too look at !!)
ohohoho boy, the lore i have for you, strap in
(brief note, this is all my personal interpretation and is definitely not the word of god lol. I genuinely love every interpretation and believe that headcanon variety is vital to a healthy fandom ecosystem)
So, this is something I have thought a lot about and still continue to think about. I'm pretty sure I've nailed it down but it might still be a little nebulous so bear with me.
In the most basic sense, my interpretation of Starlight Express, and all of its characters, is that they are real world pieces of rolling stock that have the ability to shift between a train form (primary configuration) and a human form (secondary configuration). Not an uncommon idea in this fanbase.
However, I'm an overthinking bitch, and I love going in-depth on things like this, so let's expand a little.
There are three main phrases that I use to define my interpretation (headcanon? au? lore?) and to keep myself on track when developing ideas. Sort of layers, if you will. They are as follows:
Fabricated manifestation of psyche - This is rolling stock's appearance in secondary configuration, or what we see in the musical. Their human bodies are a cosmetic representation of their will. A psychological trick. It reflects their personalities, their jobs, their mental age, the demographics of the region they serve. There about a million different factors that go into how they look, and like us, they can't control it. (well, except for CB, but he's another story) It's important to note that this is a manifestation. They are not Transformers. Secondary configuration is not 1:1. There are certain things that get muddled in the changeover. Wheel arrangements being different, missing certain parts, changed color palettes. You could open one up and see parts but not in any sort of similar arrangement to their blueprints. I mean, who can honestly picture every single part of their body in perfect detail and then reinterpret it into a new shape? (this is in part my answer to discrepancies between the real costumes and my lore shh shh)
Counterfeit reflection of humanity - This is their minds. They are our copies. They experience everything we do. They work, play, socialize, fight, fall in love. You could talk to a piece of rolling stock and have a fully human conversation. They are people. However, the longer your conversation goes on for, you may notice certain...oddities. Gaps in their knowledge, speaking in rhythmic sentences, constant repetitive movement. Someone copied humans and didn't do the most perfect job. Like looking at human culture through a lens. Many a train has pondered the simultaneous existence of being machine and being alive.
Physical incarnation of industrialism - Now this, is the origin of all of this. The humans did not create trains to be the way they are. Every piece of rolling stock is designed as they would be in the real world: vehicles to transport people and goods from one place to the next. No one designed Greaseball's slicked back hair or big, studded belt, they designed an EMD E7 built for pulling fast passenger trains. My point is, at the advent of industrialism as we know it, the trains manifested their secondary configurations themselves. They are the offspring of humanity, sired by ingenuity and innovation and birthed from the overturned earth of the Industrial Revolution. No one knows how or why, they just are.
So, in summary, they're sort of robots? Sort of a power of the mind situation? Sort of my own self-reflection on the nature of being alive?
Bonus facts!
Indeed, they do not feel pain. In fact, much of their sense of touch in general is limited. It ranges from same sensitivity as human flesh (hands, face, wheels) to just registers contact (shoulder boxes, hip plating, couplers). I have a diagram of the exact distribution somewhere lol
They bleed? Kind of? If parts are pulled off or damaged, they sort of…leak. Also, if their fleshy bits are "injured", the wounds only heal when the actual machinery is repaired. Also also, if you remove a human part (arm, leg, head, etc.) it will turn back into a train part!
Their temperature resistance is notable too. Comfortable is between -10 F to well over 500 F. Anything above or below that, and they start to complain. Wooden rolling stock have a harder time than steel ones.
They're afraid of deep water and tornados.
In addition to their nails being painted in relevant colors (which I believe is a semi-popular headcanon already), their mouths are the same. Some more unnatural colors include, black, yellow, and blue!
Tall! Generally between 12 and 17 feet. Loosely correlates to their height in primary configuration. Some are the same height, some are taller, some are shorter. Really depends on personality. I contemplated once to have their heights be the length of their primary configurations, but that would result in some pretty awkward height differences and they would be too big for their loading gauge.
They always manifest as adults, or at the very least, late teenagers. They kind of age? Sometimes? Momma started out a bit middle aged, but Rusty has spent like 50+ years looking 25. Really depends on the person, workload, environment, etc.
#asks that make me pace around the room screaming in delight#thank you for the ask and compliment!#starlight express#stex#starex#heacanons#factoanthropology#ask#blazingphantom#from the cab
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monty. tell me everything you can about your stex au. its consuming me
OKAYYY ill give a plot and like. how it works rundown
so the au takes place mostly a british primary school (because stex 2024 has the actors using their natural accents) and the whole racing part is done in the form of foot races at recess
the catch is, this whole racing game that the kids called “the train game” has been going on for years, and as students graduate and start at the school the competitors change. and as the name implies, if you want to race, you have to pick a train to play as (and a train name)
kids who pick engines tend to be the ones who race more, while kids who pick things like coaches and fuel trucks race slightly less
you can pick any type of train as long as it’s real, and some kids get pretty technical with it
pretty much all of the stex characters are kids at the school (with a few exceptions) who play this game, and it’s the main way to determine popularity there
for example, grace, aka greaseball, started playing the game when she was in year two, as a diesel engine, and she dominated the competition, even beating the older kid who was the champion. and since then shes pretty much stayed the champion.
for the train names (or how i decided whether or not i should give each character human name) there’s three categories
- characters whose names are already regular sounding enough (tassita, dinah, belle, etc)
- characters who go by nicknames regularly that they use for their train names (rusty, pearl, killerwatt, etc)
- and characters whose train names are things they came up with on their own (greaseball, electra, the wembly engine crew, etc)
a bunch of characters who don’t exist in the 2024 revival still appear, but as parents to other characters (i have another ask ill use to talk abt that)
im gonna flesh this au out more but thank you for the ask fen!!
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Thinking about Greasey being like...aggressively soft
She will Not let Dinah get stuff for herself if she's already up. Literally "Baby, sit your ass back down, let me get it, starlight"
Sooo many eye rolls because Dinah is so fiercely independent and she just wants to take care of her!
"Get off the damn counter, I got it." Physically removes Dinah from whatever she's climbed on to get something out of her reach
Her favorite thing is to say "I got it." Dinah is always stressing herself caring for everyone, so sometimes it takes Greaseball literally forcing her to chill out for her to just exist
She never Seems happy about it (she's having a party on the inside every time Dinah lets her do something for her, DO NOT BE FOOLED)
Most of the time when Dinah tells her to do something she says no (whilst actively doing it) because she's the worst
If Dinah actually asks her for help? OOOOOOHHH she's getting that shit done immediately, nothing can stop her
She's a massive grump but she's sooo full of love for her girl ok
This here Greaseball can fit so much love and affection for Dinah
#a phenomenon i witness w my grumpy friends and their partners#starlight express london 2024#starlight express#stex#dinah the dining car#rory rambles! 💕#greaseball the diesel#greasedinah#dinah starlight express#greaseball and dinah#dinah x greaseball
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WARNING! SPOILERS
As someone who has only seen the new london revival of starlight express, I really don’t see what people’s problem with it could be. I know that with a lot of people, as with anything else, don’t particularly like when things may change, but if you look at what the director and producer and things say, it’s a play that’s designed to change with the times.
The first major change that I’ve seen people have a slight issue with seems to be the change in songs. The thing is though, I’d been told beforehand that the show tends to cut old songs and add new songs with every new production. The songs felt modern, engaging and fun in a way that dragged me, a young adult, into the atmosphere, and did the same with people of all ages around me. I understand that people seem to have some favourite songs that have been cut (my personal favourite that I’d listened to before the show was “A Lotta Locomotion”, but that had been cut) but it seems like the reaction is slightly bigger than that.
Obviously, one of the other major changes is the reworking of a large number of the roles, with the racers, freight, electra’s components and two of the coaches being changed from existing characters to new characters. I understand the issue there may be that people had their characters that they get attached to, but a lot of the characters weren’t fully new characters, having the personality and plot/lines of the previous characters. The characters such as the racers have been stated to have been changed as the concept of the new production is more intergalactic than international, as they are running more with the idea of the stars and space.
The change in the concept and ideas can also be seen in the costumes of all of the characters. By the concept being slightly bigger than earth, the space-like, futuristic vibe of the costumes worked well with the other parts of the play. If the costume designer had been anyone other than Slade, would be less likely to draw the connections between Six’s costumes and StEx 2024’s costumes, with the link being that they’re both highly stylised modern/futuristic costumes, so it’s not surprising that Slade created designs that people believe are similar.
For obvious reasons, I’m going to address the changes to the main characters of Greaseball, Electra and Momma/Poppa. Momma/Poppa is the change I’ve seen the least amount of issues with, mainly because there’s less of a change than can be seen with the other two in my opinion. Electra’s change was from a previously male, Bowie inspired train to a much more androgynous, sleek train, going from male to non-binary. This androgynous, sleek version of Electra worked really well in my opinion, characterizing the idea that Electra is the newer, modern, almost Robotic train that’s powered through electricity. Greaseball, last of all, has the most backlash out of the three changes. Personally, as someone who has never seen a previous production of StEx, I loved Al Knott’s punkier, lesbian Greaseball. From what my family have said, Greaseball’s personality hasn’t changed much at all - the main thing that’s changed in reality is the range of notes and the way that Greaseball sings.
Overall, the fact of it all is that this is a play about a child playing with their trains and dreaming this fantastical race, a point put across perfectly by the addition of Control as a character that interacts and causes certain moments in the play. I think that as someone who had no expectations of the play (except that it would be good), there was not a single thing that I came out of the Troubadour thinking that wasn’t good about the new shows.
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Unorganized ramblings on London 2024 below the cut! Spoilers abound!!!
- I think despite the lack of train details seeing the new costumes in motion has made them grow on me a little.
- I am REALLY into Belle³ for whatever reason. She gives me Space Channel 5 vibes.
- The freight and components could’ve used some individuality IMO. I’ve seen some takes on the components and this incarnation of Electra that make me go “okay that tracks” but the freight all look very similar beyond the color.
- Sapphic and They/Them trains yippeeeeee!
- My usual mantra was that showing Control on stage was a sin but from what I’ve seen and heard it’s really funny with this child running around. Giving Dinah a tissue?? That’s great.
- They managed to somehow pull off female Greaseball?? She’s FEISTY! “GET OUT OF MY WAY!!”
- Honestly the new look is making me more okay with how much this production deviates from what we know? I kinda hope this isn’t Lord Andy’s “new new new Starlight” going forward but if it’s allowed to exist as its own thing I’m down for it in all honesty!! Better than trying to fix something that isn’t broken for the 4th time.
- Music SOUNDS great but I’ve only heard the Megamix as of right now. Here’s to an audio soon!!
- Slick Oil sounds like a mid replacement for our beloved Ceebert but the red herring with her and Hydra is actually really good???
- Stealing the freight, engines, Tassita, Belle, and female Greaseball for headcanon universe.
lol k thanks bye
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I’m so frustrated. Im severely obese. I got diagnosed with PCOS about four years ago during a severe period of grief and did not take take it seriously, not only due to my pre existing internal issues but also because my doctor was extremely uninterested in the diagnosis. She made it come across as a super mild unserious thing. So in an already busy mind, that’s what I went with. Now years later i’ve lost half my hair and no it won’t grow back ever, i’m severely obese, I have really bad acne, i’m ALWAYS hungry, tired and unfocused, i feel so disillusioned with life. I’ve gone to the doctor since to get help with getting my symptoms under control, but besides birth control, no help can be given unless if I should want children. I’m basically on a sentence to early death. I will probably eventually develop diabetes because of this. I have doubts I’ll ever lose weight because it doesn’t matter what I eat or don’t eat, It’s like I have a black hole in my stomach and hunger cues are nonexistent now. I’ve tried protein rich diets, I’ve tried carb rich, I’ve tried mediterranean, fiber rich, keto, no sugar, nothing makes me feel less insufferably starved. I hate myself. I wanna scream every time I see my own image. I look like a man. I see women on here make fun of trans identified men’s hairlines and all I can think is mine is as bad or even worse sometimes. My worth was never based on looks but now that i look not human anymore i very much care. im grotesque. One big stretch mark, flappy, I feel like I can never get my hair clean for long or my body odor stay nice for more than a few hours. I shower and clean myself thoroughly every day, I’m super strict with my hygiene but it’s like my body is set in being one big greaseball. I don’t wanna go out. People stare. Why wouldn’t they? It’s shocking to see such a case.
I'm so sorry, anon. I wish I had some encouraging response that gets you fired up and has the secret to all your problems, but i don't. I'm not familiar with living with PCOS so I don't even want to presume what a hassle that is to live with. I'm sorry you weren't taken seriously by medical professionals who should've done all they could and I'm sorry
I can't offer you much except sorry. And I hope I am not the first person to say this to you. 💜
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Hello friends, thought I should make a new post just to introduce myself since the brain rot is so intense I felt like I needed to make a side blog!
My name is Pebs, I’m 24 and I use they/she pronouns. I’m an nb lesbian living in the uk. My main is @femme-psyche (same on Bluesky).
I am mostly obsessed with the current incarnation of the show from 2024 since that’s the one I saw a few weeks ago and I have NOT stopped thinking about it since, however I love the Bochum/OG London characters very much too. They exist side by side in the yard of my mind. I have an old ass CB focused blog from like 2018 that I lost the password to.
My favourites are Hydra, Rusty, Dinah, and Greaseball. Pumping iron lives absolutely rent free in my brain.
I write fic! Just finished some GreaseDinah hurt/comfort and my Hydra/Rusty SickFic (kinda). Currently writing 2 things! An ice dance tendersteam AU, and a follow up to the Hanahaki fic. My asks are always open should you want a little 1k Drabble, but replies may be slow since I work full time.
Thinking about making a Hydra cosplay. I’ve never cosplayed before so tips and tricks are always appreciated
Standard DNI criteria. I am an adult, please bear in mind.
My DMs are always open!! I have so many aus about these bleeding trains that I want to develop so talk to me about anything
I know the StEx fandom is bigger on the app formerly known as Twitter but I’m not touching that with a barge pole
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pls give deets on ur CB interpretation
HI I LOVE TALKING ABOUT CB IM GOING TO DUMP MY CB REWRITE/BACKSTORY HERE HAHAAAAA
Small mentions of death and injury /judgements on disability/ mentions of the post race crash. Nothing major I just like to make sure people know.
Ok so I know some people would be a bit disappointed by this but my Red Caboose is 2015 Caboose. and the OLC CB design is like.. tbh I don't know what he's doing he probably exists because most the OLC guys also exist in my au but I have yet to decide so I never redesigned/drew him. Oops. A lot of my OLC cast is dead and or uhhh idk like old. And Vic ( 2018 caboose. ) is not related to CB, simply the only other car with the same job.
( CB is a caboose and Vic a Brake Van. Same purpose, different ways they do it. Also Vic is British and CB is from New York. GET THEM!! )
C.B. is old. He's a red wooden cupola Caboose. But if you looked at him you would not be able to tell his birth year was 1891. As he's ( now ) very up kept and in surprisingly good condition. Not a single white hair in sight! And he regularly washes and repaints his wood.
He's younger than all the oldies ( momma, poppa, belle ) but he's like... Up there. Though mentally he's been stuck at like 19-23 for.. basically his whole life. As most trains are mentally younger and stuck at a mental age.
Simple start. CB was a red boxcar, he had a few brothers that were also color coded and he spent all his time with them. Similar to the Rockies- but not... Boxers. They were considered annoying in their yard but they specifically annoyed rambling McCoy! A new young steam engine who was trying to prove his worth to impress Memphis belle. CB- who was Nick named red. Raced with McCoy during this time. And even after McCoy won and got the heart of Memphis belle. Red and McCoy still partnered.
At some point in the early 1900s-1910s red was injured and then converted to a Red cupola Caboose. And was moved to another yard. This conversion..went poorly. Mostly because it was from a nearly lethal injury to being partially rebuilt. CB found himself deaf and having essentially forgotten all the details of the last decade of his life. To this day CB doesn't remember his childhood or his time with McCoy and his siblings. He just knows he was a boxcar. And since he was at a new yard. He didn't have anybody to help him remember. CB lived in yards ranging from New York to Michigan to Ohio. He spent some time in Canada for a while too. And he was deaf for a long time. But he got very good at sign language and reading lips. After being outcasted and downright mocked for his disability ( specifically by other caboose and engines. He befriended a lot of coaches back in the day. And still spends most of his time now with the coaches instead of his co-workers. ) he learned to slink to the shadows and help the people who were stronger than him. Around this time- was when he started crashing trains. Usually he just wanted to injure the engines that had wronged him or a coach friend of his. but eventually it became a mix of impulse and a desire to be better than those larger than him.
He was moving around until the 1960's, when he finally was brought by poppa to the Apollo-Victoria. Along with a certain coach named Dinah! As the two had become friends ( and exes ) for some time before poppa had managed to get them moved over to the Apollo-Victoria.
CB also looked like *crap* during all those years. As he was moved around and was simply not well taken care of. Along with generally not taking good care of himself... Like at all. Paint was peeling and his wood showed signs of potential rot. Along with his hearing aids that he had managed to acquire just being low quality. And uncomfortable for him to wear. ( As he had them under his hunky headphones. ) But he was updated and fixed up. Around this time, Dinah started dating the upcoming racer that was greaseball. And CB helped poppa raise who was young in the freight. ( Which included flat-top, rusty and Dustin. )
CB also got kinda conspiracy theorist during this time. Hes a big hypocrite... And hes still crashing trains. But now he's directly helping specifically greaseball. ( Or anybody who asks, or he feels like telling ) He befriends every coach who comes along. And sucks up to any engine in power. Ignoring "lesser" engines basically. And becomes a brother figure to most of the freight. ( Though the Rockies and flat top like to mock him. ) Most in the yard don't know anything about CB.
CB only started to really realize what he was doing ( or.. care. About what he was doing ) when after the race, nobody really particularly seemed to... Care. GB had Dinah and his gang. And Electra had his components. But CB found that only rusty and poppa actually acknowledged him while he was injured and stuck in his home at the old radio tower. He was really injured. And this time he actually remembered all of it. A taste of his own medicine some would say. And afterwards. He really worked to fix his reputation and seem- normal. compared to the others. He befriended Dinah again. And spends most of his time with greaseball and Electra now. ( I'm a big Electra/CB enjoyer... Also a big GB/CB enjoyer )
And he maybe took in a certain young oil tankerrrrr...
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