#lowkey hate the ending

[1117-yungi]

MOONSTRUCK. park seonghwa x gender neutral!reader [1.9k]

on a quiet rooftop under the moonlight, two strangers who have crossed paths countless times finally connect. as the night deepens, their magnetic pull becomes undeniable — they realize they might not need to navigate life’s uncertainties alone under the stars.

genre. neighbor!seonghwa, neighbor!reader, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

warnings. lowkey angsty, swearing, seonghwa has glasses, secret mutual pining, unprotected sex, kind of vanilla in a way, he does choke reader briefly, he's unbelievably cute and gentle with reader its sickening, reader is lonely. pet play? idk bunny used as a pet name. size kink, praise, rushed ending, implied monster cock seonghwa tbh, slight body worshipping, probably more...

note. i have been obsessed with moonstruck by enhypen so this is kinda based on that song and i broke the text where the smut starts so its optional guys...

the quiet hum of the city fades as you step onto the rooftop, the air crisp and cool against your skin. above you, the moon hangs impossibly bright, spilling silver light across the skyline. it's your escape, the place you go when the noise of life becomes too much. your apartment seemed suffocating at this moment, providing anything but comfort — maybe from the thought of finals approaching. it was quiet as always on the rooftop. but tonight, you're not alone.

he's there, leaning against the railing with a look of quiet wonder, as if he's never seen the stars this close before. you don't know his name, only that you've passed him in the halls of your building, shared shy glances in the elevator, and felt a strange pull whenever his gaze lingered a second too long. the idea of making conversation with him during those minimal interactions, if you'd even call them that, was overwhelming.

to your surprise, he makes that conversation. "you come here often?" he asks, his voice soft but carrying in the stillness. god, it was such a line and it made you crack a smile.

you nod, hesitant. "it's peaceful. feels like the world stops spinning for a while."

he smiles, mimicking your own and it's as if the moonlight shifts just to illuminate him. the slight shadow casting over him makes him look just that more attractive. "i get that. sometimes, it feels like we're all just… lost satellites."

the conversation flows effortlessly, surprising you both. you talk about the constellations, the city lights, and the quiet dreams you've kept locked away. there's something magnetic about him, something that feels both familiar and completely new at the same time.

as the night deepens, the gap between you closes. there was once a distance between the two of you, but he changed that. he takes a step closer, then another, until his shoulder brushes against yours. you can feel the warmth radiating from him, a stark contrast to the cool night air.

"i've seen you before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "but i've never known how to start a conversation. you seemed… untouchable, like the moon itself."

you laugh softly, the sound caught somewhere between disbelief and vulnerability. "i'm not the moon. i'm just as lost as anyone."

his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, the world truly does stop spinning. "maybe we’re not meant to find our way alone."

and then, with the stars as your witness and the moon as your accomplice, he leans in, and the universe tilts in your favor.

for the first time, you're not just stargazing — you're falling, and the descent feels like coming home. you don't pull away. for a moment, neither of you move, as if the world outside the rooftop had disappeared entirely. it's just you, and him, and the soft murmur of the city below, distant yet somehow alive, like a quiet heartbeat. his breath is warm against your skin, his presence steady, like he’s been waiting for this moment, too.

the sound of a car horn blares far below, and you realize you're both still standing there, caught in the quiet hum of the night. your hand brushes against his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to reach for him — to hold on to whatever it is that's growing between you. his fingers are warm, his touch hesitant at first, but it's enough. just enough to feel real.

"is it always this easy?" you ask, your voice almost lost in the wind. you half-expect him to laugh or back away, but he doesn't. his eyes are soft, patient, like he's waiting for you to figure out what comes next.

"maybe we're just lucky," he says, his voice low, almost intimate. "or maybe we were meant to find each other tonight."

the words hang between you, like a secret shared under the stars. it feels like a thousand possibilities are unfolding in this one single moment, and yet you both stand there, just existing in it. there's no rush. no need for anything more. just the quiet connection that’s formed in the spaces between your words, in the way your hands fit together so perfectly.

you shift slightly, turning to face him more fully, and for the first time tonight, you meet his gaze with the courage to hold it. his eyes are deep, and you find yourself lost in them, like a new constellation you want to learn by heart. it's an unspoken question between you — about who you are, what brought you here, what you both want. but there’s no need for it to be said aloud. not right now.

"i didn’t think…" you begin, but the words stall in your throat. "i didn't think i'd meet anyone here."

"yeah," he says with a small, almost imperceptible grin. "i didn’t either. but maybe that’s the point. sometimes, the things we're not looking for are the things we need the most."

you smile then, the kind of smile that feels like it's been waiting for years to be released. it's not just about the words; it's about the quiet certainty that somehow, in the stillness of the rooftop and the light of the moon, you both understand each other more than anyone else could.

the breeze picks up, ruffling your hair, and you close your eyes for a brief moment, listening to the night. for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel like you're just waiting for something to happen. the world feels full — full of possibilities, full of moments yet to come.

"i guess we're not alone after all," you whisper.

he steps closer, if that was even possible, his breath warm against your ear, and the space between you is no longer a distance to be crossed. he leans down, just enough to make the air around you both thrum with something electric.

"seonghwa," he whispers. you frown before realizing that you hadn't even known his name. you whisper your name back, making him smile. he repeats it, as if it was a new flavor he hadn't tried before.

his lips brush against yours.

it's soft. a gentle connection. but it lingers, like the promise of something more. the moment doesn't feel like the beginning of something fragile, something that could easily slip away. it feels like the start of something solid, something you can build with each other. your arms wrapped around his shoulder and tugged him deeper into the kiss, offering a more passionate take.

you were breathless after a few moments. as you pull back, your fingers still tangled with his, you know — the city below, the stars above, none of it matters. this moment is enough. it's all you need. you and a stranger.

"you're right," you say, finally finding your voice again. "maybe we weren't meant to find our way alone."

"no," he agrees, smiling like he’s been waiting for you to say that. "we weren't."

the night stretches out before you, wide and endless. next thing you knew, he was guiding you towards his apartment, just down the hall from yours. you had grown so familiar with the front door that seeing the inside was strange. seonghwa was neat, more neat than you had expected.

words didn't need to be spoken between the two of you anymore. his lips found yours with ease; your lips were like a drug and he was becoming an addict, needing another fix. you raised your hands to cup his face, deepening the kiss. the tension had finally boiled over into a heated passion and lust between the two of you, with seonghwa pushing you down onto his couch, not sparing another moment as his large hands begin roaming over your body, worshipping your skin as you made out.

breathy sighs escaped your wet lips, and your gaze drifted along his body before tugging on his shirt, signaling you wanted it off. he let out a breathless chuckle from his throat. "as you wish," he whispered before removing the fabric.

wow.

your hands reached out to touch his abdomen, grazing each defining line on his stomach. he shivered at your touch, melting slightly. and soon enough all of the clothes creating distance between your bodies were removed.

seonghwa reached down, rubbing his hard dick up and down your entrance, attaching his lips to yours once again.  he kissed along your neck as a distraction as he started to slowly to push in, testing the waters, watching your face as he stretches you out. "fuck," you whispered. he was so patient. he watched your reactions and each facial expression you made carefully, making sure he wasn't hurting you in any way. "you okay?" he asked after kissing your temple, making you so overwhelmed with feelings and more importantly, pleasure. it had been a while since you had sex.

he kept placing gentle kisses on your forehead temple, keeping himself still until you give him the okay. you eventually nod against him, your face still buried in his shoulder, holding him to you.

setting a slow pace, he watches your body with an intensity you weren't familiar with. you had never felt so cared for; a strange feeling erupted from your chest. but after hearing your moans start to gradually increase, he picks his pace up, hitting something so deep inside of you that it makes your head fall back. he takes the opportunity to graze his plush lips against your neck as it becomes more exposed.

he's hitting that certain spot inside you, sending a euphoric feeling through your abdomen that makes your thighs shake deliciously. it was like your entire body is infatuated by him. the care, the attention, the fondness, even the angle of his hips as they snap against yours.. it all has your mind floating on cloud nine. and god, you don't want it to stop, you don't ever want this feeling to end. you needed for him to hold you close, to have him in your blood, even. you know addicted just like he was; you've had a taste of him and you knew it was him. just him. fuck, you were moonstruck.

"seonghwa," you moaned in a pornographic way. he visibly shook at the sound, his eyebrows and face contorting for a moment. "fuck, bunny, don't say my name like that, you're gonna make me come," he groans, lifting his head up while adjusting his glasses that had fallen to the tip of his nose. the same hand moved up, applying a slight pressure to your neck that made your head fuzzy with pleasure and emotions.

you barely even registered his words as he spoke. a chuckle erupted from his chest, repeating it. "are you close?" he asks, and you could only muster up a whimper in response, holding tight onto his biceps. "you make me go crazy over you," he says, his upper body falling down on top of yours again, as he holds you close. and then you come, the warmth and safety his body is giving you making you release, every part of your being comforted by the man above you as he orgasms as well, shooting his load deep inside of you.

and for the first time, as seonghwa breathes quietly on top of your sweaty body, you know that whatever happens next — whether it's the pull of a final exam or the quiet moments shared on a rooftop — you won’t be facing it alone. the city hums, but you're no longer lost. you've found your place in it. and maybe, just maybe, it's with a stranger you met under the stars.

[hinamie]

a tribute to celebrate the finale of the manga that has meant so much to me these past few years

[rystiel]

shipping chart thoughts

(billford always happens and they always break up. ford was obsessed when bill was his muse, then bill is obsessed after they’re no longer together and he realizes what he lost) (this dynamic is just canon, really)

(fiddauthor is always present at some point but in one route they end up together after canon events, and in another route fidd moves on) (it’s possible that they had a thing in college but consider it “typical college experimentation” because it’s the 70s and denial is strong. they still go through canon events)

(fiddlestan only happens during the fiddlestan route. otherwise canon events stay the same and they barely actually interact with each other. in the fiddlestan route they work together in the 80s and grow old together)

(billstan isn’t really romantic but it is a one-sided obsession. bill just can’t stop obsessing over the stans… for very different reasons…) (dare i say an unrequited kismesis dynamic?)

(ford and stan are brothers. that’s it. leave them out of the shipping dynamics.)

(fiddlebill isn’t really included here but i feel like the only way this would happen is if bill was possessing ford and wanted to fuck with fidd by using his crush on ford against him) (this one’s basically only possible if it’s fiddauthor-adjacent)

[labotor]

"If I am to stand outside death, I must make peace with others passing through it."

[paingoes]

lot of love in my heart for whumpees who would do the EXACT same thing to whumper if their roles were reversed. i think there's something really fascinating about whumpees who are just as brutal and cold as their whumper - but whumper is in power and they are not.

[sematarygirls]

The House On Peachtree Lane — Rafe Cameron.

pairing: serialkiller!rafe x fem!reader

summary: the abandoned house across the street had always given you the heebie jeebies, its crumbling foundation, and overgrown lawn looking like something straight out of a horror movie. however, when you began to notice a dark figure sneaking in and out of the house at odd hours of the night, you started to wonder if the house across the street was really abandoned at all.

warnings: very dark; viewer discretion adviced, male masturbation, sexual fantasies involving violence, icky rafe, stalking, mentions of murder, degradation, reader is a little freak, some manhandling

word count: 5.6k words !

a/n: starting off october right, yall. i have a strange fascination with writing characters that are actually batshit insane

The abandoned house on Peachtree Lane had a looming presence that seemed to overshadow the other houses on the residential street. Perfectly manicured lawns with each blade of grass a blindingly vibrant shade of green and cut to a perfect two and a half inches—never more, never less—lined the street of white picket fences and pristine white two story homes.

Peachtree Lane was the picturesque suburban neighborhood that you envisioned when you thought of that perfect, upper-middle class lifestyle. Each house was filled with a matriarch that had placed their entire self-worth into being perceived as the nuclear all-American family.

Then, there was that abandoned house. It threatened the image that had been so pristinely crafted to reflect the traditional values of suburban America. It was a blemish on the otherwise immaculate, postcard-worthy neighborhood. It stood tall and haunting in stature, casting a dark shadow over the neighborhood like a storm cloud foreshadowing the eventual fall of rain.

You, like the house across the street, were out of place among the families and elderly couples that lived on your block. You were a single woman in her twenties that had inherited the house after your grandmother passed away—a fact your mother nearly had a conniption over.

Your grass was a dull green, always too long or too short to fit neighborhood standards—both facts that you'd been reminded time and time again to remedy, but you didn't pay the PTA moms much mind. You knew they didn't have anything better to do than fuss over a strangers lawn, especially when they were so desperately trying to ignore the fact that most of their husbands were probably repressed homosexuals or fucking their secretaries.

You felt a sense of kinship with the abandoned house, an odd comfort with the fact that you both seemed to be peculiarly out of place. you often stared at it for hours, observing every detail.

It was a beautiful house with dark, Victorian architecture that stood out among the carbon copies surrounding it. The windows that weren't broken were boarded up, the tall, waist-length grass that surrounded the property and the animal carcasses hidden amongst it acting as a 'keep out' sign for potential trespassers. The roof looked like it was practically caving in on itself, and you couldn't help but wonder why the house was still standing. Why hadn't it been bulldozed and been replaced with another cookie-cutter American Dream Home? It was strange, intriguing even.

Even more strange was the fact that the house, at times, seemed to stare back at you.

Your fingers curled onto the edge of the windowsill, leaning forward and sticking your head out to feel the cool night breeze on your face. Almost instantly, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck perk up, bumps raising on the backs of your arms as the feeling of being watched crept up on you.

Your gaze immediately fell on the house across the street. The pit in your stomach that formed when your eyes darted from each shattered or dirtied window to the next seemed to confirm that your subconscious was almost positive that the pair of eyes on you was in that house.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as your eyes narrowed, trying to see past the darkeness and into the old house. You felt a strange vulnerability despite having checked and double-checked the locks on every door and window in your house atleast ten times that night.

Everyone knew of the serial killer that had been plaguing your town for months, brutally killing the fathers and occasional mother of the exact type of families that lined your street.

Knowing that you weren't his target demographic did little to ease your worry, though. There was always that nagging thought in the depths of your mind that you could be next, and that's what made this uneasy feeling of being watched all the more troubling.

Unbeknownst to you, the house on Peachtree Lane that everyone feared—whispers and rumors of monsters and decaying bodies inside keeping anyone from staring too long at the decrepit structure—was not abandoned at all.

Cameron Development owned the building, and when Rafe Cameron took over for his father, he made sure that the house stayed in his possession and that any attempts to renovate or demolish the property had fallen through.

The house, despite being an eyesore, had actually garnered significantly less attention than one may think. No bored, gossip-hungry housewives or nosey elderly couples with nothing better to do with their retirement than people watch would be intruding on his business and noting his presence if it was perceived as uninhabited.

Any spare glances at the house were brief and filled with distain. No one wanted to look at the rotting wood and trash-littered lawn for longer than they had to, which worked in the man's favor. No one would notice him entering and exiting at all odd hours of the night, nor would they think twice about the sharp, metallic smell that permeated the air around the house. It was the perfect cover.

He watched from one of the battered second story windows, sitting on a metal fold out chair with his legs spread wide, his presence hidden by the cover of night. A camera stood on a tripod in front of him, aimed strategically at your bedroom window.

He had been watching you since you moved in, and he knew that some deeply in tune facet of you was keenly aware of this fact. Subconsciously, like the way your eyes flickered to the 'abandoned' house when you felt your hair stand end, you knew someone was watching you, and he suspected that a part of you even liked it.

The way you pranced around your bedroom in your short nightgowns—fitted with a lace trim and small bows or flowers that made his dick twitch in his pants—and got changed carelessly with the windows open, blinds raised, and curtains parted for anyone to see. You were putting on a show for him; he was sure of it.

His bedside table was filled with pictures he had taken of you through your exposed window. In some of them, you were fully clothed—just having gotten back from work or the gym. In some of them, you were wearing those tempting, delicate little nightgowns that he was dying to rip off of you, and in the rest of them, you were completely naked—or naked adjacent. Pictures of you in nothing but a towel, in your underwear, and even completely nude with your tits or perfect ass on display made up most of his perverted little collection.

Nothing came close to the highs he felt when he came to your photos. He had tried, and failed, to find release in other women, fucking them hard and without reprieve to let out his pent up frustration. He even tried pretending they were you, pushing their heads into his pillows, so he didn't have to see their faces and be reminded that they weren't really you, but none of it worked. You were the only thing he wanted.

He watched your gaze dart from window to window, brows furrowing slightly as you searched for the source of that uneasy feeling that had settled deep within you. Strangely, you seemed more curious than you were afraid. He couldn't help himself as he ran his hand slowly up his thigh, fiddling with the button of his jeans and popping it open before pulling the zipper down.

He had a victim in his basement, probably screaming their head off and tugging at the restraints binding them to the chair, but he didn't care. His attention was fixed on you, and the way you seemed to search for him despite not really knowing that he was there.

He pulled his hard cock from his underwear, spreading his legs wider as he leaned back against the chair. His tip was flushed and leaking precum, just the sight of you working him into a frenzy. He swept his thumb over his aching head, smearing the evidence of his arousal across his hot skin. A sharp hiss tumbled from his mouth as he captured his bottom lip between his teeth, watching the way your gaze lingered on the very window he was in.

For a moment, as he dragged his hand down his throbbing length, the thought that you could see him flickered across his mind, and for that brief moment, he wished it was true. He wanted you to see him, to know that you had caused this.

But, then, just as quickly as your gaze had seemingly fallen on him, piercing into his soul in a way that had him groaning with animalistic need, it had retreated.

He watched with frustration, his movements speeding up, mimicking his inner strife for your actions, as you pulled back from the window and drew the curtains. You were teasing him, and he didn't like it.

Your curtains were sheer, so with the wind blowing in your window and the blinds still hiked up, they did little to actually disguise anything going on inside. This fact only fueled his annoyance because it meant that your act was out of defiance rather than self-preservation. If there was anything Rafe hated, it was when people defied him, especially when that person was you.

He tore his gaze from your house, head falling back and lips parting in pleasure as he continued to work his hand up and down his cock. He let his eyes flutter closed as he imagined all the things he'd like to do to you.

He pictured you, bound to the chair in his basement that so many had met their demise in. He would run his knife along your soft, smooth skin and watch you shudder in a mix of fear and anticipation. He wanted you teetering on the edge of terror and desire, never knowing whether he was going to fuck you or kill you.

He let out a low moan, imagining the tip of his knife dipping into your plush thighs. The sight of thick, hot blood dripping down your flushed skin as he carved his initials into your perfect flesh.

He could practically hear your soft whimpers and cries, his hand moving faster as he felt his pleasure building within him. You would beg and plead for him to stop, looking up at him with teary eyes that would only encourage him to keep going, to see how far he could go before he lost all self-control.

He couldn't decide what he wanted more: to hurt you or to pleasure you? Just as easily as he could see you in the basement of his murder house, he could imagine you laying in his bed, blissfully unaware of his dark side and the hundreds of pictures of you just beside your head. He could mold you into whatever he wanted, filling your pretty head with lies that he knew you'd eat right up.

The combined images flickered back and forth between domestic and depraved finally sent him over the edge with a cry of your name—which he'd learned by looking through your mail—as hot spurts of cum covered his hand and jean-clad thighs.

He panted, picking his head back up to look at your bedroom window. You had turned the light out, your room engulfed in a darkness that signified you had settled in bed and would soon be drifting off to sleep, if you hadn't already.

His gaze lingered for a moment longer before he let out a deep sigh, his brows furrowing as he tucked his softening dick back into his pants and stood, stretching his limbs as he wiped the sticky, white substance coating his hand onto his jeans. He walked to the door, giving your window one last glance before leaving and making his way down to his awaiting victim.

You had eventually brushed off that intense feeling of being watched after carefully examining the house and coming up empty. You had chalked it up to your paranoia surrounding the serial killer running amuck in your little town and settled into bed, letting your unease be washed away by the comfort of sleep.

It was only a couple hours later when something jolted you awake, your heart racing as your peaceful state was torn from you, replaced by an indescribable panic of unknown origin.

Your eyes darted around your bedroom, searching for any potential threats that could have been the cause of such a violent awakening, but you were greeted with nothing of note. You exhaled in relief as you confirmed that you weren't in immediate danger, trying to slow the pounding of your heart.

You swung your legs over the side of your bed, toes brushing the soft fibers of your plush rug, which provided a sense of comfort that grounded you to reality as you pushed yourself off the bed and into a standing position. Curiosity gnawed away at you with each growing second that you didn't have an answer for what had stolen you away from such a blissful dreamstate.

For reasons unknown to you, you felt a pull inside you, urging you to tiptoe over to the window. You moved slowly, tentatively, as if any sudden movements would somehow put you in harms way.

When you reached the window, curtains blowing wildly with the force of the wind, you hesitantly reached out, pulling back the sheer pink fabric so you could get a good look at the dimly lit street below.

Goosebumps raised on your arms, a cold feeling creeping up your spine from the mix of the chilly night air and the anticipation of what you might find.

You didn't truly expect to see anything. You lived in a safe neighborhood where the greatest crime to be committed was bringing a gluten dish to one of the neighborhood potlucks, but still, in that same part of you that feared being the Kildare Killer's next victim and always knew to look across the street at the abandoned house when you felt a sense of being watched wash over you, you knew something would be waiting beyond those decorative curtains.

You squinted, eyes scanning the sidewalk for a moment for anything out of the ordinary when suddenly, movement in the tall grass beside the old Victorian home caught your attention.

A figure, clad in a dark jacket with the hood pulled over their head, was dragging something heavy toward the street where a large, dark-colored SUV was idling. Your head cocked to the side, brows furrowing in a mix of confusion and curiosity as you watched the person intently.

Even from this distance, you could tell they were tall and, judging by the size of the object they were lugging, strong, which led you to theorize that it was mostly likely a man. You couldn't help but notice how suspiciously human sized the trashbag seemed to be, your mind immediately jumping to the countless news stories detailing the crimes of the Kildare County Serial Killer you'd half-listened to while making dinner countless nights.

You were frozen in place, the rational part of you screaming at you to run to the phone and call the police, but again, that darker side of you prevailed, keeping you exactly where you were as you watched him load the person object into the SUV.

Your trance was only broken when the man lifted his head and looked directly at your window, almost as if he had known you were there. Your eyes widened as you quickly dropped to the floor, not even attempting to get a good look at his face as your self-preservation instincts finally kicked in, and you rushed out of view.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you sat there, waiting for something to happen. You half expected to hear glass breaking or knocking on your front door as the man tried to dispose of the only witness to his crime, but your house remained silent, eerily so now that you were thinking about it.

You stayed on the floor, your knees pressed to your chest, for what felt like hours as you mustered up the courage to peek out the window and see if the man was still outside. When you finally pushed yourself up, glancing down at the street below, you found it completely empty.

A relieved sigh fell from your lips as you braced yourself on the windowsill, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself as you tried to rationalize what you'd seen.

Maybe it was just someone cleaning out the old house. In the middle of the night? Your mind had nagged, despite your best efforts to push your doubts away. There was no way a serial killer was operating out of your neighborhood, and there was no way that you had just seen him. You wanted to remain blissfully ignorant as to what you'd witnessed, deciding against dwelling on it if you could help it.

The next day, around three in the afternoon, you were in your kitchen baking obsessively—your own little way of trying not to dwell on the possible murder aftermath you witnessed the night before—when a knock sounded at your front door.

You huffed, wiping your flour-coated hands on your jeans as you approached the door, expecting to see one of the mom's from the neighborhood that wanted to bitch at you about stuff you didn't care about or one of their children telling you that they accidentally threw a ball over your fence, and you had to retrieve it.

However, your eyes widened in surprise, a soft "oh" falling from your lips as you opened the door and came face to face with a tall, imposing man. He was incredibly handsome, clad in black dress pants and a white button up with the sleeves rolled back to reveal his forearms. His brown hair was fairly short and slightly tousled—a contrast to his otherwise put-together appearance.

"Um, can I help you?" You asked, your words laced with confusion. His smile seemed to widen as he took in your shocked expression, gaze darting to the white powder on your jeans before meeting your eyes again.

"I'm Rafe Cameron," he introduced himself, his blue eyes seeming to search yours for any sign of recognition.

"Nice to meet you, Rafe," you said, brows furrowing and tone uncertain. He found your confusion endearing in a pathetic sort of way, though, he was glad. This meant you didn't get a good look at him last night, and the lack of crime scene tape around the house across the street meant you hadn't called the police. Maybe you were more clueless than he thought.

You hesitantly introduced yourself because, even though you were completely unaware of who this man was or why he was at your door, it was the polite thing to do. You stared at him for a moment, cocking your head to the side as the name Cameron echoed in your mind.

"Do I know you?" You asked suddenly, crossing your arms as you pondered. The name was so familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place it. A flicker of darkness crossed Rafe's features at your question.

"No, I don't believe so. I'd remember a pretty little thing like you," he flashed a charming, disarming grin and suddenly, it came to you.

"Cameron Development," you said, demeanor brightening as you finally recalled where you'd heard his name. That smile he gave you was the same one you'd seen on signs in countless empty lots throughout town. "I've seen your signs."

"Right, yeah," he nodded, visibility relaxing a little bit. "I'm just in the neighborhood asking around about that old house across the street. We're interested in renovating it, but we need to do our due diligence."

"Well, what do you want to know?" You asked. There wasn't much to tell about the house. It was old, practically crumbling, but you could see that just from looking at it.

"Well, have you noticed anyone hanging around, maybe squatting inside the house or loitering?" He asked, watching you with an eerie intensity. "I only ask because it could make our job more difficult if we have to fight with any unwanted guests."

"Yeah, no, I, uh, I get that," you cleared your throat, shifting your weight uncomfortably. You didn't like to lie, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell the truth either. You were, undoubtedly, afraid, but overshadowed by that was this morbid fascination that you'd found yourself having for the house and the strange man you'd seen. "I mean, I haven't noticed anyone," you shrugged casually.

He smiled again, still regarding you intensely, but now, also with a glint of curiosity. He nodded, seeming satisfied by this answer. "Well, thank you for your time," he thanked you, your name rolling off his tongue in a way that made your stomach flutter. He said it so confidently, with a certain familiarity that put you strangely at ease for a reason you couldn't quite place.

"Of course," you smiled at him, your cheeks heating up as he stared at you for a few long seconds, taking in every dip and curve of your face, memorizing the way your lips quirked up and your eyes sparkled. He'd never seen you this close before, and it took every ounce of self control not to push his way inside.

"Have a nice day, ma'am," he nodded politely before hesitantly turning and heading back to his car, which was parked right in front of your house.

"You too," you called after him, leaning against the door and biting your lip as you watched him retreat. Once he reached the sidewalk, you reluctantly pulled back and pushed the door closed, not wanting to be caught staring and be perceived as some kind of creep.

Despite knowing where you'd seen his face, you couldn't shake this sense that you knew him from somewhere else, somewhere other than those advertisements posted around town. There was a strange nausea that settled in your throat as you watched him leave, a feeling of dread that perplexed you.

In the following weeks, that gnawing feeling only intensified as your paranoia did. Little things started to catch your attention, your perception of reality cracking with each slightly opened window or drawer, missing piece of clothing, and creaking noise that jolted you awake during the night.

You weren't sure if it was just your mind playing tricks on you or if something was really going on, but you felt like you were going crazy. You felt unnerved being in your own home, like you weren't safe. The feeling of watched had grown to something thick and suffocating, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it.

You should've called the police. You should've went to your mother's house or a hotel, anywhere to get away from the man across the street that you suspected was to blame for all the out of the ordinary occurrences, but you didn't. You stayed put, letting yourself be the mouse in whatever sick game he was playing because deep down, a part of you—that you wished desperately didn't exist—was enjoying the attention.

It was around two a.m., and you were tossing in bed, a restlessness settling over you. You'd been obsessing over that house, always staring and seeking signs of life now that you knew someone had been there, and it was starting to take over your life. You needed to know what was in there. You needed to know if it truly was a murder scene.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself up, leaning back on your arms as your eyes darted around the room. Were you really going to investigate a potential serial killer's house in the middle of the night? You pondered the question, briefly wondering if this would classify you as clinically insane.

Clearly, your survival instincts didn't fully develop as a child because you found yourself pushing the comforter from your body and getting to your feet.

You grabbed a plush throw blanket from your bed and wrapped it around your body for comfort and to keep warm as you traversed through your house, down the stairs, and to the front door. You steeled yourself for what you were about to do, slipping a pair of shoes on.

You sucked in one last breath before unlocking the door and pulling it open. Stepping outside, you found yourself pulling the blanket tighter around you as the chilly air brushed against your exposed skin.

The house looked even more imposing the closer you got to it. In the darkness, it seemed like it could come to life and eat you whole. It made you feel so small, so insignificant in a way as you looked up at the looming structure before you.

The wind whistled, echoing through the silent night, which set you even more on edge, but still, you didn't turn back. Your curiosity was stronger than your fear—an incredibly dangerous thing.

You seemed to shrink in on yourself as you stepped onto the pathway to the front door, the untamed grass reaching across the concrete to grab at you. Grimacing, you pushed the grass aside with one hand, the other keeping your blanket securely around you.

Stepping onto the porch, you were careful to step around the patches of collapsing, rotting wood. The front door stared back at you, daring you to open it and satisfy your gnawing curiosity, and you obliged, shaky hands reaching for the knob.

You turned it and pushed the door forward, a deafening squeak of the seldom used hinges reverberating off the ruined walls. The smell of rot immediately infiltrated your senses, making your face contort in disgust as you stepped into the house, eyes flickering from the delicate ground to the dusty furniture inside.

A deteriorated stone fireplace sat against the left wall, the mantle filled with dusty photos encompassed in cracked glass and broken frames. An old, red cabriole sofa—which looked more like a muted maroon color from all the dirt and grime coating it—sat facing the fireplace, a matching arm chair adjacent to it.

You could imagine how lively and warm the house likely once was, with children's feet pattering against the hardwood as they chased each other through the home, careful to avoid their parent's precious vases and other expensive decorative items.

It made you feel sad that such a beautiful home that once knew vibrance and love was now left to be forgotten to the unforgiving perils of time—all the priceless memories and moments that had happened within the walls obsolete when compared to the true vastness of the universe.

You continued your journey into the home, the scent of decay growing stronger with each step you took toward the unknown. You entered the kitchen, brows furrowing as you saw a small doll laying in the middle of the floor.

You crouched down, refraining from reaching out to it. It was a pale fabric doll with stringy, dirtied yellow hair and big blue eyes. What caught your eye, however, was the big splotch of dried blood on the front of her pink dress.

You shuddered, standing back up straight and letting your gaze wander the kitchen, taking in the beautiful antique architecture and color scheme. The cabinets were a rich brown with green accents, a chunk of remaining glass in one of them indicating that it was once a lovely diamond pattern.

Suddenly, a hand snaked around your waist, pulling you from behind into a hard chest. Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth to scream, but the person behind you quickly clamped their other palm over your mouth.

"You shouldn't be here," the man said threateningly, his breath hot against your ear as he dipped his head down.

Your heart raced in your chest, breath quickening in shock and fear. Your fight or flight instincts took over, unfortunately deciding to freeze instead of doing anything helpful.

Through your panicked haze, you realized that you knew this voice. You had been replaying the short conversation you had with that handsome man since it happened, his deep, smooth voice that made your legs clench and your heart flutter echoing through your mind on repeat.

"What am I gonna do with you, hm?" he hummed, his fingers dancing from your mouth to your neck; meanwhile, his other hand stayed splayed on your stomach, keeping your body firmly pressed against his. His large palm wrapped around your neck, squeezing gently, which elicited a gasp from you.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" You could hear the amusement in his tone as he mocked you. "You're fuckin' sick, aren't you?"

In one fluid motion, he turned you around and shoved you back against the kitchen island. You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth as your back collided with the edge of the counter.

You looked up at him, your eyes widened as your mind raced with conflicting thoughts. You knew you should've tried to run, but when your eyes locked onto his cold, blue ones, you found yourself glued in place.

Your compliance seemed to please him. A sadistic grin tugged at his lips as he looked down at you, reaching out to grab your jaw roughly, his grip bordering on painful. "You saw me the other night, didn't you?"

Your breath hitched, and after a beat of silence, you hesitantly nodded. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you.

"God, you're fucked up," he laughed cruelly, causing your brows to furrow. Was the serial killer who gutted people and staged their bodies for their families to find really calling you fucked up?

"Aw, I'm sorry," he cooed mockingly, leaning so close that you felt his breath fanning your face and could smell the faint scent of beer and a breath mint. "Did that upset you?"

"You killed them," you finally spoke, your voice quiet and shaking with fear and uncertainty.

"Uh huh," he grinned proudly, his voice dropping as he spoke again: "Does that scare you?"

It probably should. You should be shitting yourself right now, screaming and crying while trying to escape. Instead, you were curious—an emotion you couldn't seem to shake lately.

You wanted to know more about him. Why did he kill, and more importantly, why mostly family men and father figures? You wanted to dive deep into his psyche. And, truthfully, the feeling of his hands on your skin was addicting. Now that you'd felt it, you wanted more.

"I don't know," you practically whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up as he regarded you with that same intense stare. His thumb caressed your cheek, feeling the growing heat against the pad of his finger.

He grinned at your answer, his grip on your jaw tightening as he pulled your face forward, smashing his lips onto yours in an aggressive, sloppy kiss. You gasped softly in surprise, allowing him to deepen the kiss by sliding his tongue into your mouth.

Every inch of you was screaming at you to pull away, but you hadn't listened to the rational part of yourself at all thus far, and you weren't planning to start now. Your hands curled into the material of his grey t-shirt, pulling him closer as a small noise of pleasure bubbled up your throat.

His hand slid back into your hair from your jaw, gripping tightly as he tugged your head back a little. His other hand gripped your waist roughly, his fingers digging into your skin through your nightgown.

Rafe had been fantasizing about finally getting his hands on you for months, but never did he think that you'd walk right into his little murder house and practically serve yourself up to him on a silver platter. Something about you knowing what he truly was and fearing him but also desiring him made him want you more than he thought was possible.

When you finally pulled away, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, Rafe's grip didn't let up; in fact, he tightened it the slightest bit, as if he was afraid that you'd change your mind and try to run.

"You know I can never let you go now," he hummed, a hint of smile pulling at the lips. "Can't risk you exposing my little secret."

You looked up at him, your eyes widening slightly as you processed what he had just said. "What?" You asked, lips parting slightly and brows furrowing in confusion.

His gaze darkened as he imagined shoving his dick between your pretty parted lips. "You're mine now, doll," he clarified, leaving no room for argument. "If you're a good girl, I'll let you stay with me at home, but if you try to leave, I'll lock you in this very basement."

You swallowed hard, considering his threat carefully. You didn't want to know what was waiting for you in that basement if you decided to be difficult. "Okay," you conceeded, nodding as you sealed your fate and agreed to your new life under his surveillance 24/7.

As you watched his features soften slightly in satisfaction, you thought about all the barbaric things that had probably happened in this house, all the wonderful memories you'd imagined before now tainted by the sheer weight of what Rafe had done here. How had the once beautiful house on Peachtree Lane, filled with life and love, turned into a house of horrors?

tags .ᐟ @nemesyaaa

[kunshokunsho]

that one togachako art as jaya…

[leconcombrerit]

This thing had been rotting in my files for a year (minus three weeks but that's basically a year). It was a redraw of one of my first ever pieces for this fandom, and I still find it quite okay if a little stiff in places, so I thought I might as well share it since I don't draw that much anymore.

And then I had second thoughts, which obviously led to me posting it anyway, as you can see, but I realized I've almost made it a point not to draw anything related to Sasi anymore. As in at all. I can't, and I don't want to, and even sharing old art feels a bit 'meh'. It's too directly linked to my long going art block.

What I mean by that is that if I took all the followers I have out there and asked them what they know me or initially followed me for, you might have a fair amount of Lis 2 and the occasional Desert Bluffs afficionados, but you'd get an overwhelming majority of Sanders Sides. Sanders Sides fashion posts even. I was by no means famous for it or anything, but at my small artist scale, it was the biggest success I had.

And it makes it much harder to go back to it at all now. One, because I don't give a damn about the show anymore. Two, because I haven't been properly obsessing over anything in a while (there was a series early this year but given the actual emotional distress I get thinking about it I'm ruling it out). I haven't had real engagement from my own brain, nor real engagement from a broad audience -which makes sense, I'm not posting for anything that will reach a broad audience. But it takes its toll regardless.

Even when I finally finished writing a long fic, I couldn't help but feel 'all this for what ? Ten people or so and two hundreds have dropped it ?'. Which is a bad way to think about stuff you write for your own enjoyment but, you know, the brain gets happy with external validation even if you pretend really hard you don't care.

And so it feels tempting to go back to the golden goose just the time to get the creative juice pumping back, and I try, and I always end up frustrated and angry and feeling even less like making art that before. I'm not having fun with Sasi. Like an old friend you have nothing to say to and yet you have so much to say otherwise, so you get a bit frustrated, you know ? Not sure I'm making much sense, but that's how it feels. I want to have something like that again, but it won't be with Sanders Sides, and I somehow just want if off my radar.

It was left hanging, then lost its spark, and then I stopped caring altogether and I most likely won't even watch the finale when it does come out. I'm over it. I wish I wasn't though, because it does feel like the artistic spark won't come back all on its own this time, and the buzzing community made it so much easier to bounce back and do shit when your brain got wired all wrong.

It sounds like I'm just bawling after love and likes and stuff, and I guess that's part of it, in a way ? Like I'm in no place to do things for myself, and seeing the one thing I used to use to get back in the flow giving me a bored sense of dread doesn't feel too great.

Yet this drawing is still good ! I find it good ! I don't remember everything, but I can tell from the looks of it that I spent a while on it ! It's nice ! I should celebrate that. So I'm sharing it. I think it will be the last piece of Sasi I ever share, though. I'm not watching the finale when it comes out. I don't care about it. I'll just keep doodling my OCs and characters from cool books every once in a while. I'll write little things.

I just really, really need to stop trying to go back to it when it's clearly not working and not even for good reasons. It was a fun ride though ! So yeah. Basically. A whole ass rant for a one year old piece of art. I'm in my bi-annual depresso mood, nothing too surprising there.

[guinevereslancelot]

what was with cameron house md she spends 90% of the episode saying she wants their patient to die bc he's a genocidal dictator and her colleague husband says "babe it bothers me for ethical reasons that you want our patient to die :(" and she said "hm maybe you're right :/" but when it comes down to it the genocidal dictator lays a finger on her in an aggressive manner and chase instantly commits medical malpractice to murder the guy and then when he tells her she LEAVES HIM bc boo hoo he's a murderer now like GIRL he killed a man for you!!! he's wracked with catholic guilt!!! he's being crushed beneath the weight of his sins because he chose his devotion to you over his devotion to god!!! he literally could not get any sexier at this moment in time!!!

[witchspeka]

When Ritsu grows up he'll exclusively wear trenchcoats and one day he'll be walking down the street and see Reigen and they'll be wearing the same coat and it'll be the worst day of his life

[aaabatteryy]

Week 4 (FINALLY.)

@localcanadiancreature62

[crazplats]

Regulus ending up with a muggle (NOT a muggle-born but like an actual muggle) can honestly be something so personal y’all don’t even understand

[rollingsim]

Eri Mihara - heiress to her father's tech company and Asahi's first ex-gf

[kissingarthurclaus]

'Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love and war but I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me'

I've been wanting to talk more about Crosshair and Brea's relationship for a WHILE now, but I never really found the 'right' time (in my silly brain) I guess you can say they...know each other very well! As you can imagine it's filled with drama, romantic tension, and lots and lots of angst! 0u0 a little more info + textless illustrations under the cut ♡♡♡

Sooooo, I tend to think of this as sort of an AU! If I'm being SUPER duper canon-compliant with my self ship lore it's not really the focus, but if I play around with timeline a little bit I can come up with this. Brea is a newly knighted Jedi, having just passed the trials, and despite holding rank in the Clone Wars she's not a general because she has no battalion. HOWEVER, there is a band of misfits that have been sort of running around doing their own thing, going where needed, sort of the way she does. The idea is what if for a short time she was the BAD BATCH'S Jedi?

In this scenario, the boys are a bit reluctant to take orders from her because they don't believe they NEED a Jedi. They're not really about rules and protocol and mandates...but they soon find out that neither is Brea! She's perfect for them, she matches their energy and allows them to make decisions the way they want. They all become very close...except for Crosshair, who still doesn't trust her. He only trusts his brothers, everyone else is an outsider.

I'll probably talk about it more later, but she does something or other that proves her care for them as individuals and one thing leads to another, Crosshair and Brea are something of an item. Not a couple per se, but FAMILIAR if you know what I mean. However, it's because of Crosshair's emotional constipation that it doesn't really go further than that, and it's ALSO because of his emotional constipation that things start to change between them! And when you bring Brea's new Padawan Kepler into the mix, things go very sour very quickly.

To make a long story short, Crosshair burns his bridge with Brea long before he joins the empire and he didn't even know it. By the time he does, she's moved on and is in love with a certain other clone! All of that is more stuff to talk about another time though ^ 0 ^ if you've read all this thank you so much and ilysm! 🫶🫶🫶

Taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @miutonium @cherry-bomb-ships @rosieaurora @rejaytionships @sunflawyer @in-true-blue-love @tropicalgothships @little-miss-selfships @hotrodharts @cupiidzbow @frozenhi-chews @limey-self-inserts @candyheartedchy

[mercillery]

Can you do the yandere alphabet for Julius and Lucius?

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + YANDERE THEMES + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: Anon, I’m gonna be honest with you—I haven’t written for Lucius in so long I lowkey kind of struggled for his part…so sorry about that ❤️‍🩹

JULIUS NOVACHRONO

A = Affection (How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?)

Julius is a naturally affectionate guy, no doubt about it. But as a yandere? Oh, he cranks that up to eleven. He’s not just attentive; he’s hyper-attentive, to the point where you might start wondering if he’s somehow become omnipresent. His affection goes beyond sweet gestures and into full-on "I need to know you’re okay every single second" territory. He’s always there, making sure you’re comfortable, cared for, and wrapped up in his Time Magic like some magical security blanket. The man’s like your personal space heater—but, you know, with magic.

And if we’re being real here, he’s not shy about physical affection either. He’s always reaching for your hand, brushing your hair out of your face, or hugging you like you’re going to vanish if he lets go. It’s sweet, but it’s also a little intense—like he’s trying to make sure you don’t forget for even a second that you’re his. Honestly, it's like the guy can’t breathe without you nearby, which is pretty ironic considering he’s the Wizard King with control over time. He could literally freeze a moment and stretch it out forever, but nope, he’s right there, all up in your business 24/7.

But here’s the thing: his affection, while overwhelming, is never meant to be suffocating. He genuinely means well; he’s just so head over heels that he’s a bit clueless about how overbearing it comes off. He’s like a puppy who doesn’t realize he’s grown into a full-sized dog and keeps trying to fit in your lap. It’s not that he’s trying to smother you; it’s just that he’s so wrapped up in his feelings that he can’t handle the idea of being apart from you for even a nanosecond. He might be the ruler of time, but when it comes to you, every moment feels like a lifetime without your presence.

B = Blood (How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?)

Julius does absolutely everything in his power to avoid physical violence; he’s the kind of yandere who prefers to get what he wants through clever manipulation and the strategic use of his magic. He’s got that "I’d rather talk it out" energy, or maybe "I’d rather warp time and rearrange the situation until it works in my favor" kind of vibe. Bloodshed? That’s like, plan Z—wayyyyyyyy at the bottom of the list of options. He’s not eager to see anyone hurt, especially since, despite the whole obsessive yandere thing, the guy still has a heart. It’s just a heart that happens to be laser-focused on you. But hey, at least he’s consistent, right?

Even in his yandere state, he’s still compassionate and empathetic; he genuinely believes violence isn’t the answer. It’s like he’s trying to show that even with his unhealthy levels of obsession, he can still hold on to some of that Wizard King morality. But, and it’s a big but, if it ever came down to it—like if he really had no other choice, if every possible peaceful method had failed—then yeah, he’d resort to violence. He’d do it swiftly, though. Julius isn’t the type to let things get messy; he’d use his time magic to make it quick and painless, like pulling off a band-aid (a magical band-aid, mind you).

It’s not that he wants to spill blood; it’s more like he’d do whatever it takes to protect what’s most important to him: you. And if that means ensuring anyone who threatens you is out of the picture, well, he’s got the power to handle it discreetly. He’s not about to let things get dramatic or drawn-out. In his mind, if it must be done, it’s going to be done efficiently, with as little suffering as possible. He’s still got that compassionate side buried in there—just wrapped up in a whole lot of obsession.

C = Cruelty (How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?)

Honestly, kidnapping isn’t Julius’s style—even in yandere mode. The guy’s all about playing the long game, keeping things friendly, and working his charm. He’s got that Wizard King charisma, and he’d much rather convince you with sweet words and acts of kindness than snatch you up and lock you away. But, alright, let’s imagine he does resort to kidnapping—because, you know, the question calls for it.

If Julius were to kidnap you, it would be the most polite, gentle kidnapping imaginable. You’d almost be confused, like, “Wait, am I being kidnapped, or am I on a really weird vacation?” He wouldn’t be rude, mocking, or condescending—no, no, that’s not how he treats his beloved. Why would he ever speak harshly to you? You’re the person he cherishes above all else. So instead, he’s all smiles and soft words, doing his best to make the whole situation seem as un-scary as possible. It’s almost unsettling how sweet he is about the whole thing—like, you know something’s not right, but at the same time, how could someone so gentle and caring be the bad guy here?

At first, he might go a little overboard with the pampering, trying to ease you into the situation and get you comfortable. He knows what he’s done doesn’t sit right with you because, you know, kidnapping is usually a red flag, so he’s on a mission to prove that it’s not as bad as it seems. Expect all the royal treatment—meals brought to you, cozy blankets, books, and entertainment, anything to make you feel comfortable and safe. It’s almost like he’s overcompensating, trying to fill the awkwardness of the situation with as much affection and care as possible.

In his eyes, he’s just doing what’s necessary to get you past any fears you might have of him. But here’s the kicker: he’s so nice about it that it makes you question everything. It’s like he’s trying to rewrite the narrative of kidnapping itself—“Oh, you’re not my captive; you’re my honored guest!” And throughout it all, he remains respectful, patient, and kind, making it clear that no matter how strange things are, he’d never dream of being cruel to you. In his mind, if he’s as gentle and caring as possible, you’ll come to accept his affection and eventually see things his way.

D = Darling (Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?)

Like I mentioned just now, Julius isn’t the type to jump straight to abduction. He’s all about patience and subtlety. But, okay, if we’re diving into this hypothetical where he does kidnap you, it’s a bit more complicated. The thing is, it’s all about time—fitting for someone with Time Magic, right? At first, he’s going to do the classic yandere thing: take away your will (and ability) to leave. No sneaking out, no slipping away when he’s not looking. You’re basically stuck, and he makes sure of that. He might not be thrilled about it, but he’s too concerned and worried to let you out of his sight at first. You’re kept safely in his space, just like any other yandere would do.

But here’s where things get interesting. As time goes on—because, hey, no one’s as good with time as Julius—he’s watching you closely. He’s waiting for that moment when you start to calm down, to settle into the situation, and maybe even… accept it? He’s hoping that as you mellow out and get more comfortable around him, you’ll start to relax. And once he sees that, he’ll start to loosen his grip. Slowly, he’ll give you back a little bit of freedom, like easing off the brakes after a long stop.

It’s not because he wants to keep you locked away forever. No, deep down, Julius wants you to be free—he really does. He’s not one of those yanderes who thrives on control just for control’s sake. But the problem is, he can’t risk losing you. The thought of you just up and leaving one day? Terrifying. That’s why he kidnaps you in the first place. He can’t take any chances.

Once he’s confident that you’re not going to bolt the second he lets you out of his sight, he’ll start letting you do things on your own again. Maybe you get to wander the streets alone, maybe you can hit up your favorite shops or go about your day-to-day life—just with one little catch. He’s still watching, of course. You might not see him, but trust me, he’s keeping tabs. There’s always going to be that sense that you’re not totally free, but hey, at least you can stretch your legs a little, right?

Of course, privacy is another story. Even when you get your freedom back, he’s always going to know where you are and what you’re doing. It’s like he’s given you a leash, and though it’s longer now, it’s still there. So, freedom? Kind of. Privacy? Not a chance.

E = Exposed (How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?)

Oh, this man is exposed—and not in the typical yandere "I'm hiding my true nature" kind of way. No, Julius is out here practically wearing his heart on his sleeve, and honestly, it's almost a little surprising for a yandere. You'd expect someone in his position to keep up a facade, maybe hide behind his usual charm and playful attitude, but nope. He only keeps up his playful and charm facade in public—you know, as the Wizard King. But with you, he drops that mask like it’s nothing, and what you see is raw, unfiltered Julius. He lets you in on his biggest fears, especially when it comes to losing you, and trust me, he's very open about how much he loves you. Like, almost too open. You might even find yourself thinking, "Wait, is this guy trying to guilt-trip me? Am I supposed to feel bad for him right now?"

And look, with most yanderes, you’d probably be right to assume that—emotional manipulation is kind of their bread and butter. But not Julius. When I say he’s exposed, I mean really exposed. He’s not out here playing any mind games; he’s just laying it all out there, hoping you understand how much you mean to him. No deception, no schemes—just pure, unfiltered sincerity. It’s like he thinks, “Hey, if we’re going to be together, we’re going to be real with each other,” and he genuinely believes that.

Sure, it might come off a bit intense. I mean, how often do you meet someone who's so emotionally vulnerable they could basically be the poster child for a heart-to-heart conversation? But that’s just how he is with you. You’re his lover now, and in his mind, that means no more walls, no more pretending. It’s just him, being 100% honest with his feelings, whether you’re ready for that level of sincerity or not.

It’s not about guilt-tripping, and it's definitely not about manipulation. Julius genuinely just wants you to understand that when he says he loves you, he means it with every fiber of his being. So while most yanderes might use their emotions as a weapon, Julius is over here treating them like an open book—one he’s inviting you to read cover to cover.

F = Fight (How would they feel if their darling fought back?)

Oh, this man is absolutely HURT. And not just the "ouch, you hurt my feelings" kind of hurt, but the deep, soul-crushing, "why are you doing this to me when all I want is to love and protect you?" type of hurt. You can practically see the disappointment etched all over his face, but it's mostly that emotional pain that gets to him. You fighting back? It genuinely confuses him. In his mind, he’s doing everything out of love—so why would you resist?

But let me be clear: Julius isn’t the type to snap or lash out if you push back. Oh no, he’s not going to raise his voice, throw a tantrum, or get violent. That’s not his style. Instead, he’ll let out this sad sigh, maybe give you that look—you know, the one that makes you feel like you just kicked a puppy. Then, without any harshness, he’ll calmly use his magic to gently subdue you. No roughness, no aggression, just disappointment. It’s like he’s saying, “Why are we even doing this? Can’t we just love each other in peace?”

Julius is all about keeping things gentle. Even when he’s feeling emotionally wrecked, he’ll never resort to anything violent or extreme to get you back under control. He’ll probably just freeze time around you for a bit, just enough to calm things down, then softly talk you through it. It’s all about creating this sense of, “Hey, I’m not mad, I’m just hurt—and we can work through this.” Sure, you might not like it, but at least he’s not out here going full yandere psycho.

But make no mistake—while he’s being gentle, he will put you back in your place. He’s got the power to do it without breaking a sweat, but he’s so emotionally invested in you that he won’t cross any lines. You’ll be subdued, but it’ll be like being gently pushed into place by someone who’s more disappointed in the fact that this is even necessary. So yeah, you’re not getting away with fighting back, but at least you can count on Julius being as soft as possible about it—just enough to remind you who’s in control, but never enough to make you fear him.

G = Game (Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?)

It’s definitely not a game to Julius. He takes your relationship seriously—obsessively so. But hey, he wouldn’t be totally honest if he said he didn’t feel at least a tiny bit of amusement when you try to outsmart him. There’s this little flicker of curiosity in him, a sense of, “Oh? What are they going to try next?” It’s almost like watching a puzzle unfold, and Julius can’t help but be intrigued by how you’re going to maneuver through the situation. He won’t admit it outright, but there’s definitely a small part of him that finds your attempts to outwit him... well, kind of entertaining.

That said, don’t think for a second that he sees this as a game. It’s not. He values the relationship way too much to treat it like some kind of cat-and-mouse chase. Julius is all about balance, and even though he might find your cleverness interesting, he’s not going to encourage it. He’s got that Wizard King mentality—risk is not something he likes to play with, even with all the Time Magic at his disposal. To him, this relationship is way too important to leave anything to chance.

But here’s where it gets tricky: Julius is confident. Like, really confident. Not the cocky type of confident—but just normal confident, you know? He knows that, no matter how clever you get, he’s got the ultimate ace up his sleeve—his control over time. That means, in his mind, you can try whatever you want, and he’ll still ensure your inevitable return. It’s not arrogance, exactly; it’s more like he knows that no matter how far you wander, he has the means to bring you back to him. So in a way, he’s fine with giving you a bit of freedom, letting you try to outsmart him here and there, because deep down, he’s certain the outcome won’t change.

It’s almost like watching a chess match when you already know how it’s going to end. Sure, it’s fun to see the moves, but in the end, he’s always a few steps ahead. So, while he might find a bit of enjoyment in seeing what you’ll try next, there’s never any real doubt in his mind that you’ll end up right where he wants you—right by his side.

H = Hell (What would be their darling's worst experience with them?)

Remember how I said Julius is gentle when it comes to putting you back in your place? Yeah, well, don’t let that fool you into thinking his gentleness doesn’t pack a punch. Sure, he’s not violent or harsh, but you’ve gotta keep in mind that the man’s literally the Wizard King. He’s got the power to make “gentle” feel a lot heavier than it sounds.

So let’s say you’ve made a habit of trying to escape. Julius, being the master of Time Magic, isn’t going to get aggressive. Nope. Instead, he gets creative in the worst possible way. Picture this: every time you defy him, every time you make a break for it, he uses his magic to create a loop, forcing you to relive that moment of rebellion over and over again. At first, you might think, "Okay, I can handle this. What’s a little time loop?” But trust me, you can’t. It’s way more than you bargained for.

It’s not just about repeating the same moment. Over time, it wears you down in every way. Mentally, you start feeling like there’s no way out. Emotionally, it’s draining—going through the same motions, only to have him bring you right back to square one. Physically, it takes its toll too, even if you're just walking in circles or struggling to escape. And hey, maybe even spiritually, it’s exhausting, like your soul just can’t take the weight of being stuck in this endless loop of defiance.

For Julius, this isn’t cruelty for the sake of it. In his mind, it’s necessary. It’s a “lesson,” a way to show you that no matter how hard you try, there’s no escaping him. It’s his way of teaching you that resistance is futile—literally. And the worst part? He’s not angry while doing it. He’s just calmly, almost lovingly, reminding you of your place. There’s something deeply unsettling about being punished by someone who seems to genuinely believe they’re helping you.

It’s honestly a terrifying reminder of just how powerless you are against his magic. No matter how gentle he is, the message is clear: you can’t escape him, and the more you try, the more exhausted you’ll become. He’ll make sure you understand that lesson, even if it takes a few dozen loops to get there.

I = Ideals (What kind of future do they have in mind for/ with their darling?)

His ideal world? It’s actually pretty simple when you break it down. Sure, he’s got all the time magic and the responsibilities of the kingdom, but when it comes to you, Julius just wants the domestic dream. You, him, together, living a peaceful life where you accept your role as his partner, both emotionally and practically. He doesn’t envision you as someone kept in the shadows or locked away—he wants you to understand what he does, to support him, and to see that this life he’s offering is the best option for the two of you.

And in his mind, it’s not even a question of if you’ll come around, but when. Time is his best ally, after all. Julius believes that with enough time, you’ll start to see things his way. You’ll realize that being with him is not just an option, it’s the best option. The future he sees is one where you’re both bonded in every way—physically, emotionally, spiritually—living that calm, domestic life, side by side.

He’s not asking for much, right? Just the “usual” life, where you’re always with him, supporting his duties, and, in return, he’ll give you the world—or, you know, as much of the world as the Wizard King can offer. In his mind, that’s the kind of future anyone would want. And with a little patience and a lot of time magic, he’s convinced you’ll want it too.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?)

Julius is definitely prone to jealousy, but he’s not the type to let it spiral into a whole dramatic scene. He’s mature and composed about it, like the seasoned Wizard King he is. I mean, he’s not the kind of guy who’s going to throw a fit or give the death stare to every person who gets a little too friendly with you. He’s got enough self-assurance to know that your relationship is solid and safe in his very capable, time-bending hands.

Honestly, it’s not like jealousy hits him often. He trusts you and he’s confident enough in himself and his connection with you that it takes a lot to push him over that line. When those little pangs of envy do strike, he doesn’t lash out or lose his cool. Instead, he just kind of… silently acknowledges it and then moves on, letting it wash over him like, “Okay, that’s a thing I’m feeling, but it’s fine. We’re fine.” You might not even notice he’s feeling jealous because he keeps it so well under wraps.

Listen, it’s all about that quiet confidence of his. He knows he’s got the power to keep you with him—figuratively and literally. So while others might lose their temper over jealousy, he’s just sitting there like, “Yeah, no. We’re good.” He’s not worried about someone else swooping in and stealing you away because he genuinely believes in the bond you share. And let’s be real, the man who literally controls time doesn’t exactly feel threatened by much!

K = Kisses (How do they act around or with their darling?)

When you’re around, Julius is just his normal self—just dialed up a notch in the affection department. He’s the same charming, approachable, and easygoing Wizard King everyone knows and respects, but he’s not shy about showing how much he cares for you. It’s not over-the-top to the point where people are rolling their eyes or muttering, “Here they go again.” It’s just… obvious. He’ll casually hold your hand, rest his arm around your shoulders, or throw in a little inside joke that only you two get. It’s enough to make it clear to anyone watching that you’re his, but not enough to be cringe-inducing or awkward for everyone else in the room.

He’s like the poster child for “affectionate but not obnoxious.” People might smile or whisper about how sweet he is with you, but no one’s rolling their eyes or feeling like they need to fake gag. It’s that perfectly balanced PDA that everyone tolerates.

And as for those Yandere tendencies? Forget about it. He’s the picture of a dream man, an ideal partner, always smiling and attentive but not in a creepy way. Nothing about him screams "possessive" or "obsessive." He keeps all those intense feelings and thoughts hidden behind that charming, easygoing demeanor. He’s got his act down so well that even if someone tried to accuse him of being overprotective or controlling, people would probably just laugh it off.

To the world, he’s just an affectionate, doting boyfriend who’s got everything under control—nothing weird or suspicious here! He’s smooth enough to let his true nature simmer beneath the surface, showing you and only you the full extent of his obsession, but making sure everyone else just sees the charming man in love.

L = Love letters (How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?)

Julius’s way of courting is like a masterclass in emotional intelligence. He doesn’t just bombard you with generic “I love you” messages or flashy gestures. No, he’s way more refined and strategic than that. Julius takes the time to understand you—your likes, your interests, your worries, and what makes you tick. And then he crafts these thoughtful, personalized notes that feel like they’re speaking directly to your soul. His letters are beautifully written, almost poetic, without being over-the-top or insincere. He knows just the right words to weave a connection between you two, slowly and subtly drawing you closer to him.

It’s not all grand declarations and roses either. Julius is perceptive and precise; he doesn’t miss a beat. If you ever try to pull away or distance yourself, he doesn’t panic or lash out. Instead, he sends letters expressing his regret, his sorrow at the growing gap between you. It’s not a guilt trip—it’s more like he’s quietly reaching out, saying, “I miss you, and I hope we can find our way back to each other.” It’s disarming in its sincerity and vulnerability, and it makes it that much harder to actually break away from him. He’s not aggressively pulling you back; he’s inviting you to return willingly.

Outside of these carefully crafted letters? He’s just your regular Julius Novachrono. Friendly, approachable, with that same easygoing charm. He doesn’t overwhelm you with constant affection in public or try to flaunt your relationship. To everyone else, it just seems like he’s a genuinely considerate and charming man. No one would guess he’s meticulously planning every word and action to keep you close—he just seems like the perfect partner. But behind every letter and every carefully chosen phrase is that obsessive, love struck side quietly steering the ship.

M = Mask (Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?)

Julius’s true nature is like flipping a coin—one side is the easygoing, jovial Magic Emperor that everyone knows and admires, and the other is a deeply obsessive partner behind closed doors. In public, he’s got his act down to a science. He’s charming, approachable, and always smiling. People see the relaxed, carefree Wizard King who’s both a competent leader and a friendly face. He laughs easily, cracks jokes, and offers that reassuring presence everyone relies on. You wouldn’t suspect a thing from the way he interacts with his captains and citizens—just the same old Julius, with no hint of his hidden intensity.

But when it’s just the two of you, the other side of that coin comes out. He’s still mostly the same Julius, but now the mask is off, and his affection is turned all the way up. He’s more touchy, more attentive, and definitely more possessive. It’s not like he suddenly becomes a different person, but you can tell there’s an underlying intensity in everything he does. Where he might have just given a casual hand on your shoulder in public, in private, it’s more like a lingering touch, a tighter embrace, or an almost desperate look in his eyes. It’s still Julius, just with an added layer of obsession simmering beneath that calm exterior.

N = Naughty (How would they punish their darling?)

When it comes to punishment, Julius plays the long game—mentally and emotionally. He doesn’t believe in physical harm; it’s just not in his nature. Instead, he uses his Time Magic to create these psychological traps, forcing you to relive arguments or moments of defiance in an endless loop until you eventually break down and comply. Imagine having the same disagreement over and over, with no real sense of how much time has passed or when it might end. It’s subtle, but it’s incredibly effective. The exhaustion creeps up on you, making you question your own memory and sanity, and eventually, you’re left with this overwhelming sense of futility.

Julius sees this as a more “humane” form of discipline, almost like he’s gently guiding you back onto the right path rather than punishing you outright. It’s not violent, but it’s still a form of control—a mental cage disguised as an endless rewind button. And if you’re worried about him losing his temper or laying a hand on you? You can let that fear go—because Julius absolutely REFUSES to physically harm you, even in his darkest moments. It’s a line he’s unwilling to cross because, in his mind, what he’s doing isn’t about hurting you—it’s about keeping you safe, teaching you a lesson in a way only he can.

O = Oppression (How many rights would they take away from their darling?)

When it comes to freedoms, Julius’s strategy is all about control and patience. At first, he takes away all your rights and autonomy. He wants to strip away any illusion of independence so you can settle in, and by “settle in”. But here’s the catch: once he notices you’re getting more comfortable—actually comfortable, not just pretending—he’ll slowly start giving you back small pieces of freedom, bit by bit.

Think of it like earning privileges in a really messed-up game of trust. Show him you’re genuinely settling in, and he might let you have more time alone or even go outside under supervision. He wants to see genuine acceptance, not just some facade, and believe me, you’re not fooling this guy. He’ll see right through any fake smiles or acts of devotion. If you think you can just put on a lovey-dovey act to get back your freedoms, you might as well give up now—Julius knows the difference between genuine affection and an Oscar-worthy performance.

In his mind, it’s all about ensuring your “safety” until you can prove to him that you’re truly accepting of this life with him. And once you do? He’ll reward that acceptance with more freedoms. But make no mistake: the leash is always there, even if it gets a little longer over time…

P = Patience (How patient are they with their darling?)

Julius isn’t just patient—he’s exceedingly patient. He’s got all the time in the world, quite literally, and he’s fully aware that winning you over isn’t going to be an overnight thing. He knows you won’t accept his love right away, and he’s perfectly fine with that. In his mind, your resistance is just a temporary obstacle, not a permanent barrier. He believes his persistence will eventually wear you down, like waves gradually eroding a stone. And with his Time Magic, he’s got a pretty big advantage—he can afford to wait you out.

If you’re throwing a tantrum, screaming, or just completely losing it, he won’t get angry or frustrated. Instead, he’ll take it in stride, viewing it as a natural reaction to the situation. Are you crying your eyes out all day, at every hour? As much as it breaks his heart to see you in pain, Julius remains steadfast. He won’t snap or lose his patience—instead, he’ll calmly reassure you, trying his best to soothe you and help you feel comfortable. He doesn’t want to force you to accept his love; he wants you to genuinely come around to it.

In his eyes, all the tears, the anger, and the resistance are just part of the process. It’s all temporary turbulence in a relationship he’s confident will eventually find smooth waters. He’ll wait as long as it takes, and in the meantime, he’s there to comfort you through all of it, always with that patient smile. You might feel like you’re hitting a wall with him, but Julius? He’s got the patience to outlast every outburst, every tear, and every attempt to resist.

Q = Quit (If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?)

If you were to actually die, the heartbreak Julius would feel would be on a catastrophic level—like the man got hit by a million emotional wrecking balls all at once. He might be obsessive, yes, but that doesn’t make his love any less genuine—just more intense. Losing you wouldn’t just hurt him; it would break him. Imagine the Wizard King, the man who leads with a smile and endless charisma, completely shattered because you’re gone. It wouldn’t just be heartbreak—it’d be like his entire world collapsed. He’d probably be so devastated he’d question his own powers, his decisions, everything, and would find himself trapped in a spiral of guilt and despair.

And if you somehow successfully escape? Come on, this is Julius we’re talking about. You might have slipped through his fingers for a moment, but if you think he’s going to let you go just like that, well, that’s a bit naive. He’s the freaking Wizard King with control over time itself—letting you run off into the sunset isn’t exactly on his to-do list. Julius would be devastated, sure—his heart crushed at the idea of losing you. But unlike with your death, where his pain would be immeasurable, escaping just makes him more determined. To him, it’s not an ending—just a setback.

But here’s where things get really intense: Julius isn’t one to just sit back and accept fate. Oh no, he’d bend reality itself to undo whatever it was that took you from him. If you die, he’d rewind time to a point where you’re alive, no matter how many attempts it takes. If you escape, he’d loop back and make sure that door was locked or that your window wasn’t left open—any little thing he might’ve overlooked. In his mind, there’s always a way to fix things, to create the “perfect” outcome where you’re together.

Julius’s obsession runs so deep that he wouldn’t move on, no matter what happened. He believes, with every fiber of his being, that given enough time literally, he can create the future he envisions—one where you’re by his side, no matter the cost. So, if you die or successfully escape, you might think that’s the end of it—but for Julius, it’s just another loop to reset until he gets it right.

R = Regret (Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?)

Julius isn’t entirely blind to the morality of what he’s doing. Deep down, he does feel a sense of regret—not because he’s unsure of his love for you, but because he couldn’t win your heart the way he wanted to, without all these drastic measures. In his perfect world, you’d willingly accept his affection, confine, or control. But reality didn’t work out like that, so here he is, convincing himself that this path is the only way to keep you safe and happy.

Julius rationalizes everything he’s done with a well-intentioned narrative: “It’s for your own good,” or “One day, you’ll see why I had to do this.” He genuinely believes that with enough time, you’ll eventually understand that his actions, no matter how obsessive, were all born from a place of love. And as much as he feels that twinge of guilt, he’s not going to let it change his course of action. Letting you go isn’t an option in his mind—not now, and probably not ever.

Yes, there’s a real heart in there, a genuine, caring part of Julius that’s wracked with guilt over forcing you into this situation. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to set you free. To him, this is the only way to keep you both safe and happy, even if you can’t see it yet. He’s utterly convinced that with time (and, of course, he’s got plenty of that), you’ll come around to understand his love and intentions.

So while he does feel regret, it’s more of a bittersweet acknowledgment that he couldn’t create a perfect love story without pulling some strings. But giving up on you? Absolutely not. In his eyes, this is all just another challenge to overcome—a painful compromise he’s willing to make until you see things his way.

S = Stigma (What brought about this side of them? childhood, curiosity, etc?)

Honestly… it’s hard to pin down exactly where this obsessive side of Julius comes from, but there’s a good chance it ties back to his responsibilities as the Wizard King. Think about it: he spends every waking moment shouldering the weight of an entire kingdom, constantly trying to maintain peace and keep things in balance. That kind of pressure isn’t something you can just shrug off, even if you’re someone as whimsical or carefree as Julius. So maybe, when it comes to you, you represent that rare piece of comfort and genuine connection he craves but feels he can’t attain through his public role.

Being in such a powerful and demanding position, Julius is probably used to people respecting, fearing, or idolizing him—but never really seeing him for who he is underneath all that authority. You’re different, and that’s both exciting and terrifying for him. His obsession might stem from this desire to keep that connection secure, almost like he’s terrified that losing you would mean losing one of the few genuine things in his life.

So in a way, it makes sense that his fixation on you is so intense. You’re not just someone he loves; you’re a refuge from the constant duty and facade he’s forced to maintain. He wants to protect that refuge, even if it means crossing lines or using his power to do so. In his mind, losing you isn’t an option because you’re the one thing in his life that isn’t about being the Wizard King—you’re about being Julius.

Or maybe I’m just reaching for the stars for this one. Who knows.

T = Tears (How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?)

Seeing you cry, scream, or shut yourself away absolutely shatters Julius inside. He’s not blind to your suffering; it affects him deeply, and part of him hates that he’s the reason behind it. But he convinces himself that your pain is just a "necessary step" on the path to a better future together. He’s in denial, really—holding you close, whispering sweet reassurances like, “It’s okay, I’m here,” or, “You’ll see in time, everything will be alright.” Meanwhile, he’s sidestepping the fact that he’s the very cause of this mess.

And your tears? They don’t make him reconsider. In his mind, they’re proof that you’re scared and vulnerable, reinforcing his belief that you need his protection even more. He’s twisted the narrative so tightly around his idea of keeping you safe that your cries and pleas to be left alone only fuel his determination.

So if you try to push him away or tell him to back off, it’s not going to work. He won’t just leave you alone, even if you beg for space. Instead, he’ll double down on the comfort, trying harder to “make you see” that everything he’s doing is for your own good. His reassurances are endless, his grip is unwavering, and his resolve to “protect” you only gets stronger with every tear you shed.

U = Unique (Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?)

Julius’s approach to being a yandere stands out because he steers clear of the classic violent or physically intimidating tactics. Instead, he leans into his mastery of time magic and a softer form of emotional manipulation to create a psychological cage that’s way more sophisticated than a typical yandere’s. He doesn’t need to lock you in a literal room; he’s got the power to make time itself your prison.

What’s even more unique is that, compared to most yanderes, he gradually grants you more freedom. He’s not too keen on the idea of keeping you cooped up forever. As time passes, he’ll give you a longer leash—letting you venture out, make decisions, maybe even regain some semblance of a normal life… sort of. But this freedom is only an illusion because, in reality, his grip remains firm. You may not be physically restrained, but you’re still emotionally and mentally bound by his presence and his magic. So, hooray for a little more freedom… but also, not really!

V = Vice (What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?)

Julius, for all his big-time magic and being basically a living, breathing timepiece, isn’t invincible when it comes to emotional vulnerability. Basically, here’s the small crack in the armor: his need for validation. It might seem like a tiny detail—like discovering Superman’s kryptonite is just a heavy diet of carbs—but it’s key. If you can somehow convince him that you genuinely accept him or pretend, then you’ve got an entry point to start working your own magic. Get him to believe that you’re warming up to him, and you might just worm your way into earning his trust. Once you’re in there, deep in that emotional vault, you’d have more chances to plot an escape.

Of course, this isn’t a one-way ticket to freedom; it’s more like trying to sneak out of a house guarded by both a paranoid watchdog and a CCTV system that can literally rewind time. You’ll have to keep up the act without Julius catching on to any hesitation or cracks in your facade. He’s analytical, and the moment he smells betrayal, it’s game over. But, if you can consistently show that “genuine affection” without letting your poker face slip, you might just get the chance to slip away.

Key word: MIGHT

Just pray you don’t accidentally call him by the wrong name or flinch when he goes in for a hug, or your time pun very much intended will be up.

W = Wit's end (Would they ever hurt their darling?)

Julius? Physically harm you? Not a chance. The idea of laying a finger on you in anger is absolutely out of the question. Julius would genuinely die before he let himself cross that line because in his mind, hurting you physically would shatter the very foundation of his obsession—sorry, I mean, love for you.

That said, mentally? Oof. That’s a different ball game. Julius is a master of time and, unfortunately for you, that means he’s got a lot of tricks up his sleeve that don’t involve lifting a finger. So if he’s at his wit’s end, he might resort to more subtle methods, like trapping you in a disorienting time loop. Imagine having the same conversation on repeat, or worse—reliving that one argument over and over until you feel like your brain’s about to turn into scrambled eggs. It's his twisted way of keeping you in line while convincing himself that he hasn’t really hurt you—at least, not in the traditional sense.

So long story short: Julius? Lay a finger on you? Never. But don’t think for a second he’s not prepared to mess with your head if it means keeping you in his grasp. Because to him, breaking you down mentally isn’t the same as hurting you—it’s just helping you understand how much he cares.

X = Xoanon (How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?)

Julius doesn’t just put you on a pedestal—he practically builds a shrine and lights candles around it. To him, you’re not just the center of his universe; you’re the literal center, the sun to his gravitational pull, the glue holding his timeline together. And when Julius sees someone as his key to happiness and stability, that’s not a casual crush—it’s borderline holy devotion. This man will twist reality itself if it means keeping you happy, comfortable, and—most importantly—by his side.

You’re not just the apple of his eye; you’re the entire orchard. He wants your love, sure, but it’s not just a want; it’s a need. To him, you’re like the keystone in an arch—remove you, and his entire world risks collapse. So he’ll stop at nothing to keep you where you are, locked securely in that special place he’s carved out in his heart and mind. And if he senses you slipping away? Expect reality to bend a little more than usual. “All’s fair in love and time manipulation,” right?

When it comes to winning you over, there’s pretty much nothing he wouldn’t do. Time magic? Check. Reality-bending? Check. Gaslighting reality itself into keeping you by his side? Triple check. Because in the gospel according to Julius, if he can convince you to stay with him forever, then all those sacrifices were just acts of devotion.

Y = Yearn (How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?)

Julius isn’t the type to rush into things—he’s got all the time in the world, literally. So when it comes to you, he’s willing to play the long game. This guy will spend months, even years, meticulously observing you like he’s preparing for the world’s most intense final exam. He’ll study your habits, routines, preferences, down to which hand you use to brush your teeth…it’s weird, yeah—but he probably actually knows which hand you use to brush your teeth with. He’s so strategic that if there was a gold medal for obsessively planning, Julius would be its reigning champion.

Now, about snapping—it’s not really his style. Julius won’t just flip the switch one day and show up at your door, eyes glowing with time-warping intent. No, he’s far too patient and calculating for that. He takes his time, crafting an intricate web where every thread is designed to lead you straight to him. If you’re imagining some dramatic, sudden outburst—forget it. What you should be worried about are those quiet, all-too-composed moments where he’s just smiling and nodding, because that’s when his brain is ticking like a well-wound clock, planning every step of your “future” together.

When he finally decides it’s time to make his move, rest assured, he’s not diving in without backup plans A through Z ready to go. By the time Julius “snaps,” he’s really just executing a plan that’s been in the works for ages, and by then, your chances of escape are slim to none. So don’t waste time worrying about him snapping like some unhinged maniac—it’s not the big breakdown you should be afraid of, but the steady, calculated build-up. All those daydreams he’s having about the two of you? He’s already way past imagining—it’s more like he’s making itinerary notes for your future.

Z = Zenith (Would they ever break their darling?)

For Julius, breaking you isn’t the goal at all. He’s not in this to shatter your spirit or leave you a hollow shell—he’s aiming for something far more insidious: a genuine connection, or at least what he thinks is genuine. But the trouble is, his methods are about as gentle as a sledgehammer wrapped in velvet. He might not intend to break you, but the relentless way he traps you in those exhausting, sanity-testing time loops as “punishment” does more damage than he probably realizes. In his mind, it’s all in the name of helping you understand his version of love and care—he’s not trying to hurt you; he’s just trying to make you see.

The irony is that resisting him for long enough means you might end up breaking yourself. Going through that same situation, conversation, or argument over and over—like a psychological treadmill from hell—would wear anyone down. It’s like trying to escape a maze only to find yourself back at the entrance every single time. Your defenses would start to crumble, your mental exhaustion would reach its peak, and you’d feel like you’re at your breaking point. But here’s where Julius’s bizarre form of compassion kicks in.

Julius understands, in his own twisted way, that these punishments are draining. He’s aware that if left unchecked, this psychological torture could actually destroy you—and that’s not what he wants. So in his post-punishment “cool-down phase,” he shifts gears, switching to comforting and reassuring you whether you want it or not. He’ll be there with a soothing voice and a gentle hand, convincing you that he’s doing this out of love, out of a desire to keep you safe, even if you despise him for it. He won’t let you completely tip over the edge because, in his mind, he’s there to be your savior, your protector—even if he’s the one creating your turmoil in the first place.

So while it feels like you’re always on the brink of breaking, like you’re balancing on a tightrope with no safety net, Julius keeps pulling you back just enough to keep you from falling completely. It’s a messed-up balancing act: you’re teetering, exhausted, and desperate for relief, but you never fully break because he’s always there to catch you, to hold you steady at that edge. It’s not freedom, not even close—but it’s his way of ensuring you stay whole, just enough to be his.

LUCIUS ZOGRATIS

A = Affection (How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?)

Lucius’ way of showing affection is like trying to hug a boa constrictor—tight, unyielding, and with the illusion that he's doing it for your own good. His love is rooted in his grandiose vision of creating a “perfect” world, and you, dear darling, are just another piece of that puzzle that he must polish to fit. He’s paradoxically both gentle and overwhelming. Imagine being wrapped in a silk glove that’s ever-so-slightly squeezing the life out of you. One minute, he’s all soft, lingering touches, fingers gliding over your skin like he’s crafting a masterpiece, whispering sweet nothings about your role in his ideal future. The next, his grip might tighten, a subtle but firm reminder that he’s the artist, and you are the art.

B = Blood (How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?)

Lucius doesn’t revel in bloodshed—he’s not here to get his hands dirty for the thrill of it. But if someone threatens his grip on you or his grand vision, they’ve practically handed him a permission slip for ruthless efficiency. Why waste time swinging when he can just manipulate souls? His Soul Magic makes violence almost boringly clinical—like he’s performing a minor surgery instead of altering their life, spirit, and magic power.

If it’s between keeping you by his side or letting a pesky obstacle stand in the way, Lucius won’t hesitate to do what he calls "cleaning up." And by "cleaning up," I mean he’ll just rearrange their soul and make them not be as a pesky obstacle as before, but now an obedient follower of his. He’s more surgeon than sadist, executing his violence with an almost unsettling sense of calm. There’s no splatter for splatter’s sake—just a surgical strike that leaves nothing but a memory in its wake.

But don’t mistake his preference for efficiency as a reluctance to get messy. If his control over you is at stake, he’s willing to go to any length to keep things tidy, even if that involves spilling a little blood—or a lot of it. His method is polished, but the results are as ruthless as they come.

C = Cruelty (How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?)

Lucius isn’t going to resort to something as pedestrian as outright mocking you. That’s not his style. He doesn’t need to throw petty insults or humiliate you outright—his cruelty is far more sophisticated, like a perfectly sharpened scalpel. Instead, he’ll meticulously dismantle your sense of self, piece by piece, until you genuinely believe he’s the only one who knows what’s best for you. Think of it as psychological warfare but with an air of twisted benevolence. He wants you to think he’s your savior, not your captor, all while he’s slowly tightening the chains.

Lucius is the master of emotional coercion, guilt-tripping, and gaslighting with a side of faux concern. You think you made a decision on your own? He’ll subtly remind you that, no, it was actually him who enlightened you to the “right choice.” You feel like pushing back a bit? He’ll sigh and tell you how disappointed he is. And don’t even think about disagreeing with him—it’s not that he’ll punish you with overt anger; he’ll just look at you with that disappointed, pitying gaze, as if to say, “Oh, how misguided you are to think you can question me.”

D = Darling (Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?)

Lucius isn’t the type to leave your free will intact if it inconveniences him. He’d rather meticulously construct a situation where your "choices" just happen to align perfectly with what he wants. You see, Lucius isn’t going to chase you down every time you try to rebel. Instead, he’ll craft a neat little reality around you where disobedience feels almost... impractical. He’s like that overbearing GPS that keeps saying, "Recalculating," but with a sinister smirk, making sure you only ever take the route he planned.

And let’s be clear—he’s not just putting up a few guardrails. We’re talking total control over your environment. Expect him to start chipping away at your connections to friends and family faster than you can say, “Hey, why haven’t I heard from them in a while?” He’ll isolate you, all while making it seem like he’s protecting you from those "unworthy influences." Before you know it, you’re depending on Lucius for every ounce of interaction, like your entire social life’s been relocated to one dude.

Restricting your movements? Oh, he’ll do that too—both figuratively and literally. Try to wander too far or question too much, and suddenly he’s there, gently redirecting you with that eerie "You don’t know what’s best for you—I do" look. He won’t lock you in a dungeon—that’s too obvious. Instead, he’ll subtly corral you into the life he envisions, all the while making you feel like this new “freedom” he’s given you is a reward for your cooperation. It’s like he’s got a monopoly on your entire existence, and you didn’t even realize you were playing Monopoly in the first place.

And while all of this is happening, Lucius will maintain that level-headed, smug facade, as if gaslighting you into compliance is his way of showing love. Because, in his mind, molding you into his ideal companion isn’t just a desire—it’s his way of showing you your "true potential." Really, isn’t that the worst part? He honestly believes he’s doing you a favor. It’s like if a life coach got way too into your personal life and then decided to stay there... forever.

E = Exposed (How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?)

Lucius baring his heart? Please. This man doesn’t just hide his cards—he’s got them locked in a vault with security clearance. Vulnerability is not in his playbook, and he doesn’t feel the need to let you in on his deepest fears or insecurities. Instead, he opts for the grand, sweeping gestures of devotion that feel almost like a politician’s campaign speech. He’s all about selling you on a dream—his dream—where you’re his perfect partner, standing by his side as he "revolutionizes" the world (or, you know, controls it, but he wouldn’t phrase it that way).

Lucius isn't about confessions; he’s about convictions. He’s not sitting you down for some heart-to-heart where he spills his childhood traumas and secret anxieties. Nah, he’s sweeping you up in these grandiose promises, like he’s the protagonist in some tragically romantic opera, whispering about destiny and greatness with an air of suave authority. Call him a smooth operator—because he really is one. I mean, you could play Sade in the background, and it would probably just feel right. (🎵No need to ask, he’s a smoooth operatoooorr... 🎵 You know the song. You get it. Do I sound like a loser yet.)

To him, his version of vulnerability is trusting you enough to buy into his vision. That’s about as bare as his heart gets. Instead of crying on your shoulder, he’s the type to look deep into your eyes and say, “Together, we’ll reshape this flawed world”—like it’s some kind of love declaration. Emotion, to him, is just another tool to wield, another smooth line to draw you in closer. And he’s dangerously good at it, like a salesman who knows exactly which insecurities to poke at so you’ll buy that overpriced insurance plan.

And when it comes to being “vulnerable,” Lucius isn’t trying to share his fears—he’s trying to share his certainty. He’d never confess to a weak spot, because in his mind, having one is almost beneath him. Vulnerability, after all, implies you have something to lose, and Lucius? He’s above all that. He doesn't need to break down walls when he’s too busy building castles in the air—castles where he’s the king, and you’re meant to stay locked away, admiring the view.

F = Fight (How would they feel if their darling fought back?)

Oh, Lucius would find it downright adorable if you tried to fight back. Imagine a cat lazily watching a mouse try to scramble away—it’s almost endearing to him that you’d entertain the idea of resistance. He’s not going to lose his cool; in fact, he’s amused. Like, “Oh, look at you trying to assert your independence—how precious.” To him, your rebellion isn’t a threat; it’s just another bump on the road to your inevitable enlightenment.

Lucius views your resistance as a misguided phase, like you’re a rebellious teenager acting out because you haven’t grasped the bigger picture. In his mind, you’re simply wrestling with your own ignorance, and it’s his job to guide you towards acceptance. He won’t lash out or lose his temper—no, that’s beneath him. Instead, he’ll just subtly tighten his grip, metaphorically speaking.

Open rebellion would be met with that signature Lucius approach: a gentle but unyielding restraint, like velvet shackles. He’s the type to softly say, “You’re only hurting yourself,” while making it clear that resistance is pointless. He’d see this little rebellion of yours as something to manage, like a storm that he knows will pass. He’s patient enough to wait it out, firm enough to hold his ground, and calculating enough to subtly nudge you back into line without breaking a sweat.

G = Game (Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?)

Lucius wouldn’t call it a game—he’s far too self-important for that. In his eyes, this isn’t a playful chase; it’s more like a refinement process. Your attempts to escape or resist aren’t a source of outright joy, but rather, validation of his own self-appointed mission to "perfect" you. Your struggle is proof to him that you’re still not seeing the light, which only reinforces his belief that he, and only he, is capable of guiding you towards that enlightenment.

But don’t get it twisted—there’s definitely a little smirk hiding behind that stoic mask of his. He’s not cackling like a cartoon villain, but deep down, there’s a twisted satisfaction in knowing that you’re trying and failing to break free. It’s the intellectual thrill of having a puzzle to solve. He sees you as a challenge, a work of art that isn’t quite complete yet, and he’s the artist holding the brush.

Lucius enjoys watching you resist, not because he takes pleasure in your suffering (he’s not that overtly sadistic), but because it feeds his ego. He interprets each failed attempt at escape as further evidence of your imperfection—a flaw that he must correct. It’s like watching a child trying to color outside the lines; he finds it endearing, even admirable in its own misguided way, but he’s fully committed to making sure you stay within those lines. In his head, he’s your savior, guiding you away from your own ignorance.

And, of course, he’s got that "I told you so" energy just waiting to drop the moment you realize the futility of it all. He won’t rub it in your face, but he’ll have that air of subtle superiority. "See?" he’d say, with that maddeningly calm voice. "This is why you need me." It’s not exactly a game, but he certainly enjoys being the only one who knows all the rules.

H = Hell (What would be their darling's worst experience with them?)

Your worst experience with Lucius wouldn’t be a single dramatic moment, like an outburst or a locked room—it would be the slow, creeping realization of just how much control he has over every part of your life. He leaves no detail overlooked, no thread loose. One day, it’ll hit you that every little bit of "freedom" you thought you had was an illusion, and every rebellion you plotted was something he anticipated ten moves ago. He’s essentially playing chess while you’re stuck with a Rubik’s Cube, and he’s somehow rigged that too.

The real nightmare isn’t just the physical cage; it’s the mental one. Imagine realizing that all your options, all your allies, and all your potential escapes were subtly cut off, one by one, without you even noticing. You’re isolated, surrounded by an ever-tightening web of manipulations and lies, all crafted by someone who genuinely believes he’s saving you from yourself. It’s like finding out your house has been bugged for years by the person who hands you the keys each day with a smile.

But, of course, Lucius wouldn’t stop at that. One of the weekly specials on the Lucius Manipulation Menu would be his "playful" teasing about his Soul Magic. He’d drop it into conversation like a casual remark, mentioning how he could manipulate the souls of the people you care about most. It’s almost like he’s dangling that possibility over your head, watching to see your reaction. It’s the ultimate "Just kidding... unless?" routine. And even if you tell yourself it’s all just talk, the thought of your loved ones being turned into Lucius’ puppets? That sticks with you. It’s a psychological hammer he’s always holding over you, ready to swing if you step out of line.

The worst part? Deep down, you know that this isn't just an empty threat. He already knows exactly who you care about and how much, and he’s not afraid to use that knowledge against you. He’ll smile and say he’s just teasing, but with Lucius, every joke is laced with the possibility of it becoming reality. Keep pushing him, and who knows? That nightmare scenario of seeing a friend or family member turned into one of his obedient followers might just come true.

Imagine the heart-wrenching feeling of watching someone you love look at you with empty, compliant eyes—all because you thought you could push back against Lucius. It’s psychological warfare, with Lucius playing both the aggressor and the savior in his twisted little mind. And that, my friend, is pure hell.

I = Ideals (What kind of future do they have in mind for/ with their darling?)

Lucius’ dream future isn’t just a cozy cottage with a white picket fence. No, we’re talking world domination with a side of soulmate goals. His ultimate vision is to bring “true peace” to the world under his iron-fisted rule as the Final Wizard King, with you at his side as the perfect partner. And when I say "at his side," I mean more like his arm candy-slash-right-hand in this dystopian peace project. Forget romantic beach sunsets; think more along the lines of overlooking a perfectly ordered empire where every single person is molded to fit his definition of perfection. Ah, romance!

Lucius genuinely sees the two of you as a power couple—the sort that reshapes the world together. While he’s out there "purging imperfections" and ruling with divine authority, he expects you to be his unwavering support, his confidant, the one person worthy of standing at his side in this shiny new utopia. It’s not just about love, per se; it’s about unity in a grand vision, like you’re Bonnie and Clyde except Clyde controls life and death and has a thing for social engineering.

And don’t think you’re getting off easy in this future—he’s got very specific expectations of what this partnership should look like. You’re not just an accessory; you’re his proof that his way is the right way. He imagines the two of you as the embodiment of order and perfection, ruling over this so-called paradise he plans to create. You’ll smile approvingly at his every decree, nod in agreement when he lectures about his higher purpose, and maybe—just maybe—hold his hand as he declares peace to the masses he’s, uh, "perfected."

In Lucius’ mind, this isn’t just a power fantasy; it’s a destiny he’s generously letting you be a part of. Lucky you, right? He’s convinced that once you fully embrace his vision, you’ll be just as devoted to this future as he is. After all, what’s more romantic than ruling the world together in a meticulously crafted utopia, where every rebellious soul has been neatly dealt with? Who needs candlelight dinners when you can have the eternal glow of world peace and unwavering loyalty?

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?)

Jealousy? Oh, Lucius doesn’t have time for such petty emotions. He’s way too busy planning to become the Final Wizard King to let a little thing like envy get under his skin. He’s not sitting there stewing because someone else got a smile out of you or made you laugh. Lucius is above that.

But make no mistake: just because he doesn’t throw jealous tantrums doesn’t mean he’s totally indifferent. Lucius’ possessiveness isn’t driven by insecure jealousy; it’s rooted in his self-righteous belief that only he understands what’s best for you. You’re his project, his masterpiece in progress, and he’ll be damned if some outside force messes with that. Anyone trying to influence or take up space in your life? Yeah, that’s just an annoying little speed bump on the road to his perfect future.

If someone gets too close or starts tugging at your independence, Lucius won’t be flipping tables or throwing out dramatic ultimatums. No, no—he’ll quietly and efficiently eliminate the competition, like sweeping crumbs off the table. Imagine he’s a master chess player, and whoever’s making you smile a little too much is just a pawn in his way. He’ll rearrange circumstances to remove that “threat” without you even realizing it. Maybe that friend moves away, or that co-worker suddenly gets transferred. He’s not lashing out in a fit of rage; he’s methodically tightening his grip on your life while maintaining that unnervingly calm smirk of his.

And why doesn’t he lash out? Because Lucius is secure in his belief that his hold over you is already ironclad. He’s so convinced of his control that he doesn’t see other people as competition—just minor nuisances to be managed. In his mind, no one else is worthy of you, no one else can offer the “enlightenment” he can, and no one else can possibly sway you from the path he’s set for you. So, why waste energy on jealousy when he’s already five steps ahead of everyone else?

K = Kisses (How do they act around or with their darling?)

Lucius doesn’t suddenly switch gears and act like a giggling high schooler when you’re around. He’s still got that intense, calculated presence—except with you, there’s this extra layer of possessiveness wrapped in a cool, collected demeanor. He’s not the type to whisper sweet nothings in your ear or give you playful little pecks. His idea of intimacy involves more of a quiet, commanding closeness that lets everyone know you’re his.

People around him can tell instantly that you’re not just another pawn in his grand plan. You’re something more—a critical piece of his vision, someone he sees as an extension of himself. Lucius doesn’t try to sugarcoat it either; there’s no facade of “Oh, we’re just partners in this journey of life.” Nah, everyone and their grandma knows you’re more than that to him. He doesn’t even bother pretending that you’re on equal footing—he’s got that possessive aura turned up to eleven, and he’s not hiding it.

And why would he? Who’s going to call out the all-powerful, soul-manipulating, future-ruling mastermind for being a little overbearing with his partner? Exactly, no one. It’s not that he’s outwardly aggressive about it; it’s more like the possessiveness is so deeply woven into his character that it feels natural for him to treat you like a prized possession in the gallery of his perfect world.

So while Lucius might not be all about sweet kisses and innocent gestures, he’ll place a hand on your shoulder in a way that speaks volumes, like silently reminding you and everyone else who’s in charge. His actions aren’t loud, but they don’t need to be—his grip on you is as subtle as it is unyielding. It’s not romantic in the traditional sense, but for Lucius, it’s all part of letting you and the rest of the world know exactly where you belong: at his side, under his rule, in his version of paradise. 🎉

L = Love letters (How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?)

Lucius’ idea of courtship isn’t flowers and chocolates; it’s more like a TED Talk on why you’re the keystone in his grand mission. He’s not the type to swoon or stammer over his words—oh no. When he approaches you, it’s with the confidence of a man who’s already calculated every possible outcome and knows you’re going to be part of his life. And if he chooses to write you a letter? You’d better believe it’s going to read like a mix between a philosophical manifesto and a business proposal.

In typical Lucius fashion, he wouldn’t start with “Dear love” or “You’re the light of my life.” Instead, it would be something like, “In you, I have discovered the necessary component to achieving true peace.” Talk about romance! But hey, he’s got a vision, and you’re smack-dab in the middle of it. He’d lay out his admiration for your qualities not as a starry-eyed lover but as someone acknowledging a key asset in his grand design. Basically, Lucius’ version of “I love you” is more like, “You are indispensable to the perfection of this world.”

If you’re expecting compliments on your eyes or how lovely you looked that one day, forget it. His words are grandiose, with a touch of that almost cult-leader-like conviction. He’ll go on these long, eloquent monologues about your “significance” and how your role aligns perfectly with his destiny. It’s not flattery in the traditional sense—it’s more like he’s handing you the script for your role in his self-written narrative. No pressure, right?

And while he might not shower you with declarations of undying affection, his words would make it abundantly clear that he sees you as a vital piece of his world. He’s not just saying “I need you,” but more like, “You are essential to the future I will create, and together, we will bring forth a new era.” So romantic, in a vaguely threatening, “join me or perish” sort of way…

M = Mask (Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?)

No.

Nope. Not even a little bit. Lucius isn’t out here juggling different personas like he’s in a soap opera. What you see is what you get, and that’s the same calculating, self-assured, and slightly terrifying visionary in every setting. Why would he bother putting on a mask when he’s absolutely convinced that he’s already right about, well, everything?

Lucius walks into a room with that "Final Boss" energy, and he doesn’t turn it off just because the audience changes. He’s not going to smile more to put someone at ease or crack a joke to lighten the mood. There’s just no mask to peel away. Lucius doesn’t see the need to hide his true self, because in his mind, his true self is the ultimate truth. And if people are uncomfortable with that, well, they’re just not seeing the bigger picture.

N = Naughty (How would they punish their darling?)

For Lucius, punishment isn’t about causing you physical pain—it’s about a “course correction” in line with his grand vision. He’s not going to lose his cool and lash out at you in anger or frustration; Lucius sees that as a waste of time and effort. Why would he bother bruising your arm when he can bruise your spirit and realign your thinking instead?

If you step out of line or fail to meet his expectations, Lucius’ go-to punishment would be isolation—cutting you off from any sense of independence or connection you might have left. He might lock you away in a grandiose, almost monastery-like room where you’re left to reflect on your mistakes, with nothing but silence to keep you company. No visits, no communication, no freedom—just a constant, suffocating reminder that he’s the only person in your world who matters.

It’s not physical harm—it’s deprivation of everything that makes you feel human. Your agency, your choices, your connections—they’re all privileges that Lucius grants, and he can revoke them just as easily. The psychological weight of it is immense, and that’s the point. He doesn’t want to just punish you; he wants to reform you, make you understand that defiance isn’t just a mistake—it’s a deviation from the path he’s so kindly laid out for you.

At his most “severe,” Lucius might resort to a firm grip, just to emphasize his dominance and remind you of who’s in control. But even then, it’s more about sending a message than inflicting actual pain. Why break you down physically when he can dismantle you mentally, piece by piece, and rebuild you into the perfect companion for his vision?

In short, Lucius’ punishments are carefully crafted exercises in psychological dominance. He wants you to understand the extent of his control, to feel that your entire existence is tied to his approval. And by the end of it, you’ll be questioning if your defiance was ever worth it, or if freedom is just another illusion in the perfectly constructed world he’s created for you.

O = Oppression (How many rights would they take away from their darling?)

Lucius wouldn’t just show up and say, “Hey, guess what? You’re no longer a free person.” No, his methods are much more insidious and calculated. He’s the kind of guy who’d frame each new restriction as a favor, something he’s doing for your own good. He’d tell you it’s all to keep you safe, enlightened, and on the path to perfection. It’s like being caged in gold bars—looks pretty, but you’re still trapped.

Lucius’ approach would be gradual. At first, it might just be limiting who you talk to, convincing you that certain people are “distractions” or “unfit influences” on your growth. Then, maybe he’d start scheduling your days to align with what he believes is best for you. As time goes on, these restrictions multiply like rabbits until, before you know it, you’re in a psychological straitjacket. Even your thoughts start to feel like they’re on a leash.

He wouldn’t go for outright physical restraints because, honestly, Lucius doesn’t think he needs them. His control is so overwhelming that he’d rather manipulate your mind and emotions into a state of dependency, making you almost grateful for the structure he’s imposed. It’s not just about taking away your physical freedoms—it’s about reshaping your reality to fit his narrative. In his mind, you’re not losing rights; you’re gaining purpose. How thoughtful!

But if—and it’s a big “if”—you cooperate with him genuinely and truthfully (and he’ll know if you’re faking it), Lucius would ease up on the restrictions. He might even give you back “most” of your freedoms, like a benevolent ruler granting privileges to a loyal subject. You’d still never get full autonomy, though. Let’s not kid ourselves; in Lucius’ world, true freedom is the freedom to agree with him, and anything beyond that is just chaos.

Overall, you might get some breathing room if you play along, but Lucius is always going to keep a tight leash on the bigger picture. After all, he’s not just managing your life—he’s saving the world, and you’ve got a part to play in that whether you like it or not.

P = Patience (How patient are they with their darling?)

Lucius isn’t just patient—he’s practically the epitome of patience. Think of him as a human chess master who already knows how the game will end, no matter how many moves you make to try and outsmart him. He’s not rushing because, in his mind, your resistance is just a temporary obstacle in the grand plan he’s set for you. You throwing a fit is like a kid throwing sand at the tide—ineffectual and almost cute to him.

You could hurl every insult in the book, scream until you’re hoarse, or try every last wrestling move you’ve seen, and Lucius would barely flinch. He’s got the patience of a monk combined with the smugness of someone who knows he’s already won. If anything, your outbursts just seem to reinforce his belief that you’re not yet “enlightened,” so he’s more than willing to wait out the storm. After all, why would he let a cute, lovely little thing like your rebellion ruffle his feathers?

That’s the maddening part—he never loses his cool. You could literally slap him, and he’d still be standing there, looking down at you with that same composed, slightly amused expression like you’re acting out a scene he’s already memorized. It’s almost as if he’s silently challenging you to try harder because deep down, he finds your defiance more of a mild inconvenience than a genuine threat.

Honestly, it’d drive you crazy. It’s like trying to fight a brick wall that occasionally lectures you on why resisting is pointless. That patience? It’s not just a personality trait—it’s a weapon. A weapon he wields with precision to wear down your will until resistance feels as exhausting as arguing with someone who thinks pineapple on pizza is non-negotiable. Your resistance is a formality, a box to check off on his way to reshaping you into the perfect piece of his grand design. And he’s got all the time in the world to let you figure that out.

Q = Quit (If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?)

Let’s get one thing straight: for Lucius, the concept of you “dying” is laughably moot. I mean, really, it’s a non-issue. Thanks to his powers, he can revive you from the most gruesome fates—fatal wounds, near-dismemberment, anything. In his eyes, you’re practically immortal. So unless you spontaneously combust while trying to flee, he’s not letting go that easily.

Now, as for escaping? Good luck with that. The moment you think you can slip away, Lucius will dispatch an army of clones and his Paladins. They’ll be scouring every corner of existence to bring you back, because in Lucius’ twisted logic, you’re not just a person; you’re a vital part of his grand scheme. Spoiler alert: they WILL find you. He’s the sort of guy who has contingencies for your contingencies, and his persistence is truly a sight to behold.

So let’s be real: the whole idea of him moving on is laughable. There’s no “what if” scenario here; the thought of you escaping or being lost to him is about as likely as Lucius turning into a puppy. He’s more likely to turn every corner of the world upside down in search of you, employing every method at his disposal until he has you right back in his grasp. You’re stuck in this elaborate game of emotional chess, and there’s no checkmate in sight until he decides it’s over.

The only real hope for escape lies in a heroic intervention, like Anti-Magic Asta swooping in like some over-the-top action hero to save the day. But until that happens, forget about quitting or getting away. You’re in Lucius’ world now, and the rules are all his.

R = Regret (Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?)

Oh sweet summer child, if you think Lucius would ever feel guilty about abducting you, then you clearly haven’t been paying attention. In his world, he’s like a knight in shining armor—except the armor is made of manipulation, and the shining part is just his unshakeable belief that he’s the savior of this twisted story. To him, your abduction isn’t a crime; it’s a necessity. He’s saving you from the chaos and flaws of the world outside, and he views his actions as a kindness—like taking a cat off the street and then refusing to let it go because, let’s face it, it just can’t take care of itself.

Regret? Guilt? Those words might as well be in a different language for Lucius. He’s convinced that he’s doing you a favor by keeping you close, and he’ll definitely remind you of that whenever you express any desire to escape. You see, in his mind, letting you go is as absurd as handing over the keys to a sports car to someone who can’t even reach the pedals. You’re integral to his grand plan, and he doesn’t just mean you’re some interchangeable pawn on his chessboard; you’re the queen, and he’s not about to trade that piece away for anything.

So if you’re imagining some heartfelt moment where he pauses and reflects on the morality of his choices, you can forget about it. That’s not happening. Instead, he’ll probably double down, pulling out his smoothest lines about how it’s all for your own good, and how lucky you are to have him as a guide.

Letting you go? Now that’s just funny. If you think he’s going to open the door and say, “Okay, you’re free to go, my darling,” you’re about as mistaken as a mime trying to order a cheeseburger. He’ll hold onto you tighter than a kid gripping their last cookie in a room full of friends. You’re not just a part of his life; you’re the centerpiece of his meticulously crafted plan for world peace.

S = Stigma (What brought about this side of them? childhood, curiosity, etc?)

His overwhelming desire to “improve” you mirrors his quest to perfect the world around him. Picture a painter with a vision so grand that they can’t help but see every imperfection as a flaw to be corrected, and you’ll start to grasp where he’s coming from…

T = Tears (How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?)

To Lucius, those tears are not signs of weakness; they’re just proof that you haven’t quite accepted your role in his meticulously crafted vision. It’s like he’s been waiting for you to see the light, but instead, you’re still fumbling around in the dark. He views your pain as confirmation of the world’s corruption, reinforcing his unwavering belief that he alone possesses the key to your salvation. In his mind, every tear you shed is just another layer of the flawed reality he’s determined to erase. So, while you’re thinking, “I’m a hot mess right now” he’s over there with his metaphorical clipboard, taking notes and strategizing on how to guide you back to the path he believes is right.

U = Unique (Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?)

Lucius stands apart from your classic yandere archetype like a fine wine at a party full of boxed beverages. While many yanderes are often characterized by wild emotions, impulsive decisions, and an insatiable craving for their darling's attention—think of them as the love-struck tornadoes—Lucius operates with a cool, calculated precision that borders on eerie.

For Lucius, love isn’t just a feeling; it’s a meticulously orchestrated strategy aimed at achieving his vision of a perfect world. He’s not driven by mere passion or jealousy but by a steadfast belief in a future where you play a pivotal role. Instead of relying on chaotic whims and emotional outbursts, he’s more like an architect sketching out blueprints, ensuring that every element fits seamlessly into his grand design.

While your average yandere might resort to dramatic gestures—like stalking, melodramatic threats, or even impulsive violence—Lucius opts for subtler methods. He’ll employ psychological manipulation, social isolation, and emotional coercion like a seasoned chess player maneuvering their pieces across the board. He sees every interaction as a move toward the endgame he’s envisioned, where you’re not just a passive participant but a vital component of his master plan.

This calculated approach means he’s not just obsessed with you in the traditional sense; he views you as a unique puzzle piece essential for his envisioned utopia. He’s not out to cause chaos for the sake of chaos; rather, he’s on a mission to “save” you from the flaws he believes the world has imposed upon you. So if you think of your typical yandere as a whirlwind of emotions, Lucius is more like a storm that’s been perfectly predicted, with every gust of wind and drop of rain serving a specific purpose in his eyes.

V = Vice (What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?)

His greatest weakness is, quite ironically, his own towering ego and his unwavering conviction in his ideals. He’s like a walking billboard for self-assuredness, strutting around with the kind of confidence that could make a peacock jealous. You might think, “Great! I can totally use that against him!” But here’s the kicker: it’s not as easy as it sounds.

See, while his ego is a glaring flaw, it also acts like a protective shield, completely insulating him from doubt. He’s so convinced that he’s the master architect of a perfect future that any attempts to exploit this weakness will likely bounce right off him like a rubber ball. You could try to shake his confidence by questioning his plans or pointing out flaws in his grand design, but he’ll just smile that smug little smile and dismiss your concerns as naive, silly ramblings. It’s almost impressive how firmly he believes in his own infallibility. In a nutshell, your chances of exploiting Lucius’ vice for a successful escape are pretty slim—very slim. Sucks to be you, huh?

W = Wit's end (Would they ever hurt their darling?)

When it comes to Lucius, the idea of him hurting you is far from the chaotic, reckless violence you might expect from other characters in the yandere genre. Instead, his approach is a meticulously calculated maneuver. If he ever resorts to hurting you, it’s not out of rage or whimsy; it’s a carefully considered act intended to teach you a lesson about the consequences of disobedience, a lesson closer to molding you into his perfect lover for the new era he’s planning to create.

As for physical harm, Lucius will only ever resort to a firm grip, to reinforce his point or to remind you of his control. It’s less about inflicting pain and more about establishing dominance. He won’t be throwing punches or engaging in dramatic confrontations; instead, he’ll assert his authority in subtle yet powerful ways. He thrives on the knowledge that he can manipulate the situation to keep you in check, all while maintaining that charming demeanor of his.

So while Lucius may not physically hurt you in the traditional sense, the psychological scars he leaves behind can cut deeper than any knife ever could. In his eyes, hurting you is a necessary evil, a step in the process of molding you into the companion he believes you should be.

X = Xoanon (How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?)

Lucius doesn’t quite revere you in the typical, candlelight-dinner-and-flower-petals kind of way. Instead, he sees you as a vital component of his grand design—an irreplaceable vessel for his vision of a perfect world. Think of it this way: to him, you’re not just a person; you’re the keystone in the arch of his ambitions, and he’ll do everything in his power to ensure that you fit snugly into that role.

His “worship” is less about adoration and more about control. He doesn’t bow down or sing your praises; rather, he orchestrates your life as if you’re a piece on his chessboard. He believes that by reshaping you, he’s doing you a favor. In his mind, this isn’t just manipulation; it’s a profound act of love—though it's a love that feels more like a gilded cage than a romantic fairy tale…

So what lengths would he go to win you over? Imagine a meticulous architect ensuring every beam and support is in place to create a flawless structure. Lucius would cut off access to your friends and family, restricting your movements and molding your thoughts to align with his ideals. He’d shower you with grand promises of a better world if you only surrender your will to him. Every act of control is couched in this twisted reverence, as he believes he’s guiding you to enlightenment.

His lengths are vast and thorough, employing every tactic at his disposal—from emotional manipulation to subtle coercion—because in his mind, any means justify the end goal: you becoming the perfect partner in his quest for a utopia. So, while you may not find him kneeling before you, he certainly sees you as a treasure to be safeguarded.

Y = Yearn (How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?)

Lucius isn’t the type to suddenly “snap” like a character in a drama who loses their cool all at once. Nope, he’s way too composed and strategic for that. Remember, patience is his thing. He plays the long game, seeing your resistance as a temporary hurdle on the road to what he believes is inevitable acceptance.

Lucius would never show desperation or impulsiveness, even if it feels like it’s taking forever to get you to fall in line. It’s almost eerie how collected he remains, waiting as you resist, plot, or even openly rebel. He’s that guy who could be waiting for the stars to align, and he wouldn’t flinch once.

Instead of snapping, he slowly tightens his grip, all while maintaining a serene demeanor that’s somehow more unsettling than someone who flies off the handle. If anything, your continued resistance only fuels his belief that he’s right to keep pushing, right to reshape you for “your own good.” He’d say, with that ever-so-slightly patronizing smirk, “It’s only natural for you to struggle—it shows you’re still finding your way. But don’t worry, I have all the time in the world.”

There’s literally no snapping point for Lucius because his patience is practically unbreakable. He doesn’t have a dramatic breaking moment—he’s like water, slowly wearing away at a rock until it’s shaped exactly the way he wants it.

Z = Zenith (Would they ever break their darling?)

Lucius isn’t actively trying to crush your spirit into dust—at least not in a straightforward, malicious way. His endgame isn’t about making you a shattered shell but transforming you into what he sees as your “ideal self,” molded to fit neatly into his grand vision. In his mind, breaking you isn’t breaking at all; it’s refining you, burning away all those pesky imperfections that keep you from seeing things his way.

However, because Lucius’ methods are so intense and unrelenting, achieving that level of transformation might mean pushing you to the edge or beyond. He views it as a necessary sacrifice, like pruning a tree to help it grow properly. If you end up emotionally drained or feeling like you’ve lost yourself, Lucius wouldn’t see that as cruelty. He’d see it as progress, another step toward perfection.

To sum it up: Lucius wouldn’t set out to break you, but he’s perfectly fine if that’s the collateral damage of “perfecting” you.

[lovesickeros]

☆ love; heretical and divine

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 0.8k

To love a God is heretical. It is an act of blasphemy– it is to drag them down from their throne of hollow gold, to topple the pedestal the worshipers uphold on their shoulders like lambs at the herders heel. It is the act of forcing them to their knees and ripping that beating heart of glorious gold and beautiful, cruel divinity from their chest, so pure it burns.

To love a God is to make them sin. To make them painfully, horribly human.

To love a God is to sin.

The love of a worshiper is no love at all, brilliant in its raw purity, untainted by sin. It is fear and obedience masked by adoration so overpowering it corrupts. It makes the lamb so unquestioning in it's faith it will never question the knife that cuts, the teeth that rip, the claws that tear. If the Creator deemed them unworthy of the very life crafted by their hands, then they must have committed a sin so grave there lay no salvation for their horrid soul.

But she is no worshiper– her lips speak of heresy as easily as she breathes, her words nothing but lies, cold and cruel like the ice that crawls along her skin like webs.

She loves a God like a lover should.

A damned sinner reaching longingly for the heavens.

She loves a God in the subtle brush of their lips, their muffled voices behind closed doors as they indulge in curiosity untamed. She is a sinner through and through, but she feels herself fall further with every brush of her hand across their cheeks, every touch she bestows upon them like a lover. She memorizes the imperfections of their body like memorizing a map– every scar, every mark, every line drawn on their body like a canvas, her touch the brush that stains the pristine white.

No devoted lamb shall ever see the painting they create in these stolen moments– it is for the eyes of a heretic so vile it makes them shudder, their body dirtied by the love of a woman so vile even their divinity is obscured by the ice.

The lambs may be satisfied with fleeting glimpses of gold and empty words from lips that guide them to the jaws of the wolves, but she is not. Her hands crave them like a starving hound, aching to touch that imperfect skin hidden by the veil of gold that obscures the painfully human body beneath. She longs to free them from the golden cage that binds them– to see their wings blot out the sky, their divinity tainted by sin and making them all the more beautiful for it.

It is a longing that leaves a festering wound that cannot heal, will not heal. Even if it could, she would not let it.

For as much as she tries, deny it as she may, she is no better then the blind lambs following the herder who holds a blade in their hand, glittering like gold in the sun, stained by dull red.

She is a fool, and what a fool they make of her with the touch of their hands against her skin– so cold it leaves frost on their fingertips. Yet they do not fear the cold, mapping out every inch of her imperfections, carved into her body by her own hands.

She has always been a heretic, cursing the divine until she could speak no more, but if divinity can be found in them – in this love that consumes, that burns her hands and her lips – then she is a Saint, praying at the altar until her throat bled.

But in the end, she has and will always be a cold woman with hands stained with blood. Until it is all she can taste, until it is all she can smell, until it is all she can feel. These hands of hers, heretical and divine, will bleed the God from their veins– she will become the wolf to their lamb until the rivers of Teyvat run gold with their ichor, until the gold bleeds into red, the taste of their divinity on her tongue.

Until she drags a God from their lofty throne and makes of them a monster.

There is no greater triumph to the heretic then to love a God into sin. To make a God sin to love.

To love is to be human, and they are no God.

Even if she must tear the gold from their very being until all that's left is something human. Even if Teyvat crumbles and decays, even if it begins over and over again..

She will do it again and again, until the gold can bleed no longer. Until her sins grow too great for Teyvat to contain.

To love a God is to devour, and be devoured. An endless cycle of sin that dulls the glow of gold into something new– something horrifying and divine, in it's own right. Something just as horrid as her, just as divinely corrupted by the sins she carries on her shoulders like a trophy, as gold as the sun and as cold as ice.

Divinity, carved into something human by love all consuming, until it all bleeds away and they begin their dance anew, for as many cycles as it takes.

An eternity, if she must, of dooming this world of theirs to fire and decay for a glimpse of the being snared by their golden shackles.