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unhappy-last-resort · 2 months ago

Text

Only In Aphotic Hours

Fandom: PTN (Path To Nowhere)

Genre: Yandere, smut, angst

Main Characters: Cinnabar, GN Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Dub-con, fingering (reader receiving/giving), oral (reader giving), lesbian situationship, reader has a vag, Cinnabar is being weird, pre-established relationship

It's cold.

That's the thought that echoes in the empty halls of your tired mind as you stare at your ceiling fan spinning tiredly above your bedroom. There's a metal rattling sound from the other end of your apartment, probably someone going up the rusted stairs. You rub your eyes more roughly than you should and turn to look at your alarm clock, red numbers glaring 1:10 A.M. at you and reminding you that you had work in a few hours, and more annoyed at your early wake-up.

Your fingers tap at the duvet cover as you consider what to do. You stayed up too late this past weekend- waiting for someone who never showed- and you really, really need your sleep. Tea. You'll get some tea, it'll warm you up and hopefully relax you enough to go back to sleep.

With a grumble, you sit up pull a blanket around your shoulders, and stand, wincing as your feet hit the floor and the chill spreads into bone. Sure, you could, in theory, turn off the fan, but you know if you do, you'll wake up covered in sweat—the joys of living in a shitty apartment building.

You hobble down the narrow hallway, the only thing that stood between your bedroom and your kitchen— save for the tiny bathroom tucked into the end of the hallway and right in front of your bedroom door— really, your "apartment" was just a straight line with squares attached to it. You ignore the AC that you knew wouldn't do anything no matter how you fiddled with it, and enter your kitchen; flipping the switch and blinking as yellow light floods your vision.

The one thing you could be thankful for is that the cramped living situation allowed you to see everything immediately. The kettle waiting on your stove, the tea you always use sitting on your counter and tucked against the wall, the coat rack crookedly screwed into the wall, there were no hidden surprises in your place. Everything is as it's presented to you, as you last left it.

You flick the stovetop on and huddle back into a corner of your cramped kitchen, staring absentmindedly at the darkened sky that shows through the large— too large, in your opinion— square window on your door. Maybe if you lived high enough to see over the neighboring apartment building, you wouldn't mind it so much, but you don't and you hate how you sometimes get the feeling of being watched when you're in here. Actually, you've started noticing the peculiar itch of eyes on you even in your bedroom too. When did that start?

There's another, subtle rattle of the metal stairs outside and you still, the quiet buzz beneath your skin telling you to listen. There's a rumble of laughter in the distance that seeps through the walls, and the sound of someone's AC kicking on, but not that distinct rattle of rusted metal you'd come to know. Sure, it could be someone in your building staying out late, maybe getting a breath of fresh air, or looking at the deeply unpleasing view of the dirty street and alleyways below.

You're probably overthinking.

You stared at the tiled floor, it's uncomfortable and icy to stand on, most of the year you don't care, but as you start to smell the snowy tendrils of oncoming winter in the air, the sinking dread of facing another winter alone in your apartment, trying not to freeze as you shiver beneath every blanket you own consumed you. What you wouldn't give for an escape from that torment.

Huh. Escape.

You always dreamed of escaping Syndicate, of going to better, higher places away from the filth and violence that permeated your life like swelling warts, but maybe you've already given up on that dream, or maybe you didn't. Maybe that's why you latched onto her the same way a drifting soul in the sea latches onto a piece of rotted, broken wood from a ship. You believed she could bring you to safety with her loving smiles that brightened the world, her strong arms that held you tightly in the night, her eyes that glimmered like ocean waves, mysterious and gentle as they wrapped around you and coaxed you into the depths of warmth.

You hated the way life would freeze and dull when she wasn't around like spring flowers breaking from the Earth only to realize it was still snowing. You lived for the momentary warmth and unspoken promise of care and safety she brought into your world. You ached for it like a sunflower aches for the sun to shine its light over the horizon.

A loud slam of a door comes from beneath your feet and a tremor runs up the walls. Water bubbles inside the kettle and the metal stairs creak and shake with each heavy step the person on them takes. The man who lived below was old and angry, you'd always hated going down the stairs each morning after a certain incident. You still remember what it felt like, standing on the stairs, hand gripping the railing as you gaped at the window, a black box where hatred and anguish had coalesced into a person staring back at you, the surroundings unfurling like a blooming rafflesia, simultaneously drawing your attention to the-

Door knob rattling.

It's slow, the swing of the door followed by the cold sweeping in and wrapping around your ankles, the boot landing heavily on the small bit of wooden floor that marked a difference between the entrance and kitchen. The tall figure slouching through the doorway, yellow, cracked goggles flashing in the yellowed kitchen light. Matted, wet, black and blue hair sticking to each other; dirty jacket, white shirt, stained brown.

It's her.

Warmth is undercut with the prickly cold of fear, bunching in your veins beneath joy and settling over your shoulders, crawling up your neck, and wrapping upwards to meet your ear. It's different, something's wrong. It whispers feverishly, tugging at your nerves to run back into the box of your room- away from warmth.

She yanked off her goggles and dropped her shield on the floor, the loud thud making you flinch before she started tugging off her jacket. This is…Well, normally, she knocks and says who she is and almost tip-toes her way in, like she was afraid of disturbing the air you occupied despite your attempts to break the delicateness that wove itself between you. She always treated you like something that could be easily destroyed without her realizing, like carefully crafted lace that could fray if rubbed the wrong way, like the very bedsheets you rested on were holy.

This- as you watched her drop her gloves onto her jacket on the floor instead of putting them on the coat rack- was, careless. The most reliable member of Serpent Eye, who always did her job, who was always sweet, and kind, and warm, and cautious to the point it hurt; was being careless. The cold around your neck held tighter and your heart sent a shudder that ran to the pit of your stomach, blossoming into warmth that bubbled in your veins.

"Cinnabar!" She looks at you instantly, her blue eyes wide, and your voice comes out unexpectedly loud and excited. You wince, but she just smiles and you continue, being careful to set a casual tone this time. "I didn't know that you were coming." Is everything okay?

She pauses, sticking her tongue in her cheek before leaning down to untie her boots. "I had an errand to run here and thought I'd make up for the missed date." She glances up at you with a sheepish smile, shy and cheeky- mostly the latter. "It was last minute so I couldn't text you."

You hum, rubbing your thumb into the flesh of your upper arm as you watch her. She'd usually at least knock before coming in, in fact, there was only one other time she ever showed up unannounced and it wasn't like this with her boots printing reddish-looking mud on your floor.

Maybe it was the shitty apartment lighting or the midnight sky that shone through the door's window and framed her face, but her eyes seemed to share the unending darkness of the night- and you are at its epicenter.

She smiled, the corners of her mouth upturned in a familiar way, the stretch of her lips that you'd seen before, the crinkles around her eyes in their expected place; but something about it settled unnaturally in your stomach.

"Hey," She says softly and takes one step forward, one step closer to the threshold between the entryway and the kitchen. "I'm sorry if I startled you." She dropped her shoulders and bent her knees slightly, quirking her head with a wry smile as she carefully stepped her way toward you. Maybe she was trying to appear smaller to you, but it feels like you're about to be pounced on. "I just...really wanted to see you." She's past the kitchen sink now. Her fingers twitch as she drags them over the countertop.

She's close enough to smell now, smoke, gunfire, and something tangy that tickles your throat. You don't know when you were caught in the corner where the counter and wall meet, but Cinnabar's in front of you, the sheen of sweat highlights the muscles flexing beneath her arms as she places them gently on either side of you, the wall creaking behind you.

Your breath is caught in your throat the same way your eyes have been captured by hers. You can feel her breath brush against your skin like a bubbling inferno that spreads throughout every inch of your skin and ignites with an ache to burn.

"Is that alright?" She whispers, but it's so loud it's the only thing you can hear. It's the only thing that rings through your mind, ricocheting off walls and silencing the cold that was on your shoulders, sealing it somewhere deep beneath your skin.

You can feel one of her hands inching toward you as she tilts her head to the side, her smile patient, gentle, and a little needy as it always was in the moments before you'd find yourselves tangled in each other. Yet you could tell something was interwoven in the texture of her skin and the fire behind her lashes, something that seemed insatiable and greedy. "I don't…know?"

She chuckles, her Adam's apple bobbing in her throat. "Flustered?" She leans in and cups your cheek, glancing at something off to the side for a moment. "Don't worry, just think of it like last time."

A tense beat of silence and then the kitchen light is snuffed out with a click and her lips are on yours in the same instant, feverish and sloppy and unlike any other time she kissed you. You're left reeling, grabbing at her shoulders as she drags you out of the kitchen.

Her kiss is rough and consuming, suffocating in ways you didn't know she was capable of. Her starting kisses were never like this, never did she part your lips with her tongue so eagerly, never did she hold you, hostage, against a wall with her fingers prying at the edges of your shirt with too much eagerness for precision. It was never like this, but it has never been more intoxicating than now.

You could stop her, you could pull away, but as you push her into the closet door of your hallway, you feel her smile against your lips as your hands drift and squeeze at her ass and thighs- why should you stop?

She pushes you in the direction of your bedroom, finally slipping a hand beneath your shirt and wrapping it up your back to keep you upright as you both stumbled your way in the dark, reluctant to let your lips separate farther than a breath as if you might disappear if she can't hold you and keep you close.

Your knees catch the edge of your mattress and your lungs are burning for oxygen as you both crash onto the bed and she finally lets you breathe. You stare at the fan spinning overhead, perpetual and ordinary, as Cinnabar's calloused fingers hook the band of your pajamas and pull it down. You hear her sigh as you come into view and she swipes two fingers over your wet folds, before dragging them up to tease your clit. That's not ordinary- it's a special occasion, it always was. You wish it was ordinary.

She leaned over you, resting her forehead against yours and despite the bubbling pleasure that slowly spread through your veins- your hips bucking into her hand, you found your eyes solely focused on her face, on her eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, and the oceanic blue of her irises which were usually gentle and patient had a frayed sense of restlessness you couldn't place your finger on.

She didn't let you think of that for long as she slipped her fingers down, pushing into you gently and curling your fingers, before dragging them up to your clit again, her lips pressing kisses into your neck.

She moves to suck at a spot just beneath your jaw before she lifts her head and kisses you softly. You hold each other's gaze as soft moans fall from your lips and your hands wander to cup her breast, kneading and pulling at the soft flesh. Her other hand drags up your arm and intertwines with yours, pulling it away from her breast to kiss your fingers, her eyes staying locked on yours as she leans in to gently bite into the tender flesh of your wrist.

She tore her gaze away from you to her fingers, smiling softly. "You always feel so nice to touch." She looked at you again and you were rendered breathless with how much adoration she held within her eyes, like it was pouring out of them in a thick sludge that threatened to choke you.

"I've never stopped thinking about you since we met." Her pointer and index finger move in a slow, circular motion, now she suddenly wants to take her time to appreciate you. "I was just…"

She takes a deep breath, her voice sounding unnaturally frail and small. "I was worried you'd get hurt." She shifts, cupping her free hand against your cheek and tracing your features. "I couldn't stand the thought of that, but I also couldn't live without you."

"Are we doing this now?" In a way, it's everything you ever wanted from her and it also couldn't be farther from it. You had tried so many times to have a meaningful discussion about this and she always answered with a sigh and a kiss before leaving your bed cold.

Her eyebrows twitch downwards, bunching the skin on her nose, her lips forming a sad, thin line. She looks like she wants to say a lot, but instead, she forces into a smile so painful looking, you don't want to look at it.

"Look, I…" She waits for a while, choosing her words carefully before sighing. "I know I haven't been the most transparent." Her fingers rub your bud languidly. "But, I promise things are going to be different from now on." She slips her fingers down in between your folds, pushing them as deep as they can go and spreading her fingers apart. "Trust me, okay?"

She smiles as she pulls her fingers out, lifting them enough for you to see them glittering with your arousal in the moonlight before she pushes them back in again and rubs your nub with her thumb as you gasp and squirm on the sheets beneath you.

She leans in and you feel her breath, hot against your skin, before she closes her lips on your neck and bites into it. You tug at her tank top mindlessly, wishing she would've taken it off earlier as your hand's fumble upwards, feeling the soft firmness of her abs, one hand tangling into her hair as the other pulls her shirt up. You can feel her muscles shift beneath your touch, her heart pounding so loudly you can feel the tremors through her skin.

Your head rolls to the side, catching your own hazy eyes in the mirror, watching as the muscles in her neck flex as she works to leave a hickey on your skin- something she always does when she visits you and that you always admonish her for when you have to go to work the next day.

You watch as she pulls away from your neck with a wet pop and turns her head to look at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin on her lips.

She leans forward, lips ghosting your ear as she keeps her eyes on your reflections. "Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby." She whispers huskily. "Don't look anywhere else."

You squeak out a hum of approval and she chuckles airily. She drags your pajama shirt up until your chest is exposed, you watch her lick her lips before she leans down and flicks her tongue over your nipple. You gasp with a jolt and you feel her smile against your skin.

You swallow as you watch her lips close around your nipple, and her fingers begin to slide in and out of you, her thumb brushing your clit as she goes up to her knuckles in you. Her tongue rubs against your nipple in a circular motion as she sucks on it as if it's her favorite thing in the world.

Your back arches and your hands find themselves in her hair as her teeth drag over your nipple, her fingers curling to reach that spot at a brutal pace that puts stars in your eyes, the coil in your stomach tightening until your thighs start to shake and-

Your arms wrap around her, feeling the warmth of her body kiss your skin through her tank top. She releases your hardened nub and moves her hand up your back to cradle your head, making you look at her in her dilated eyes and wetted lips, feel her hot, shallow breaths on your face as your hips roll to meet her fingers as she curls them to hit that spot.

The dark room gives way to a blinding all-encompassing, white, accompanied by the press of her lips on yours as your orgasm stains her fingers.

She only pulls her fingers out when your breath evens and puts them in her mouth, sucking them clean. "You did a good job." She whispers as she pulls you into a hug and lays down.

Your breath softens into quiet, heavy breaths as your consciousness is returned to its body. You feel the dampness in the sheets beneath you, the smell of sex in the room, the brush of air from the spinning fan, and the distant sound of cars somewhere outside.

Cinnabar lingers, nuzzling into your neck as if she felt the same euphoria you did. Slowly, reluctantly, she slid her fingers out and you watch as she pushes them past her lips and sucks them clean.

She smiles at you again, teeth peeking through as she lays down next to you, a kiss on your cheek and a red glint hidden in the depths of her pupils. "I missed hearing you like that." She thumbs your cheek, breaths mingling together in the small space between you.

Warmth, joy, and safety, are what you choose to associate her with in your mind, and you want nothing but to embed your roots in her skin and sear yourself into her heart. Entwine your existence with hers so she can't leave you frozen and alone-"Then why don't you stay?"

Her smile falters for a fraction of a second and another hairline crack goes through your heart and creates another rift in your soul and her warmth retreats faster than you can stop her.

"I forgot something." Your hand misses her arm as you reach out. She disappears into the darkness beyond your doorway without another word, the cold air stings you and dives beneath the skin to ripple through bone.

You plop your head against the pillow, staring at the ceiling fan as it continuously spins as if nothing happened. As if you weren't just left alone again by the only person you'd ever shared your bed with.

Every time she leaves, you feel a part of you goes missing, like each time she visits she carves into you and doesn't give back the pieces. Maybe you should just end things. Cinnabar is the description of a perfect potential partner, but ever since she came into your life it's been rough waters, choppy seas, and stormy nights that leave you empty in its wake.

You weren't sure what you were hoping for when you…well, now that you think about it, you never really agreed to this, did you? Maybe that's another reason you should-

"Hey, sorry for leaving you." She whispers and you hear something heavy and metal being set on the floor- right next to the bed. "I just really needed to get something." she nuzzles back into your neck and sighs.

Your fingers twitch at your side, tiny fractures sting your fingerpads, hesitation filling their gaps as you slowly raise your hand to reach over her side and you turn until you're both facing each other.

Your fingers ghost over her cheek and trace her faint smile that grows a little wider at your touch and down the center of her neck- Adam's apple bobbing with a swallow- and down the divet of her chest, over her abs, and stop at the belt of her pants. She watches your hand as it slowly undoes the belt, her hand drifting to squeeze your hip while you work to open the fly of her pants.

You bite your bottom lip as you get a peek of hair splayed in every direction and her white, low-rise panties. You tug, revealing the divet where her hips and stomach meet, leaning down to cradle the small mound hidden between her legs.

You slip your fingers down, watching them disappear as you follow the heat and dampness leaking through her underwear, you can feel your finger parting her folds and you curl it slightly, smiling as she sucks in a breath next to your ear.

You roll your finger, feeling that hard little nub through the fabric, a growing itch in your throat to bury yourself between her legs until she shakes and cries for you. Until she begs for you not to stop in that heady, breathless voice until she tugs your hair and pulls you in deeper with her legs until you almost suffocate from her.

You sit up and her grip tightens on your hips. "Stay close to me." She tugs you forward until you almost fall on her, a hand gliding down to your thigh to push your knee in between her legs. "I wanna hold you."

You sigh and watch as your hand drags up the side of her hips and latches around the hem of her top. "Fine," you lean in until your noses brush against each other, her soft pants brushing over your lips. "If that's what you want." This time, when your hand travels up the expanse of her stomach and cups her breast, she doesn't stop you. Instead, you feel her hips softly grind against your leg.

Her lips feel soft against yours, she opens up and allows your tongue to slip inside, tangling in each other as you palm her breast. You can hear her breath get heavier between kisses, feel her heart race in your palm, and taste her hunger on your tongue.

She's hot, her skin is hot with a light mist of sweat as her hips roll more fervently. You kiss from the corner of her lips to the cut of her jaw, to the tender flesh of her neck. Her pulse beats in your lips and you catch it with your teeth as Cinnabar writhes in delight beneath you.

Her fingers grab at the plush of your thighs, your name on her lips as her fingers find your folds once more.

You gasp as her slender fingers toy with your bud and your hands move to rub her clit through her clothes. You find yourself grinding on her leg as you suck languid spots of her neck, feeling the fabric dampen with each movement of your hips.

Her breathing starts to run ragged and she pauses her ministrations with the slightest hesitance to yank her pants off, finally growing tired of the barrier between you— which you gladly assist her with.

You move back and slip your hands beneath her knees, holding her legs apart as you take her in. Her half-exposed chest rises and falls with every breath, her eyes now half-lidded and completely clouded in a smokey haze that watches you with a barely restrained eagerness, the divets of her hips that glide down to the band of her white panties.

You lean in, eyes locked on each other as you place a kiss on her clit, watching her breath hitch as you slowly drag your tongue up the velvet part of her folds.

Your lips close around her bud as two of your fingers slip inside. "Oh my god…" She gasps and throws her head back, writhing her hips. "Yes, please, right there!"

You thrust your fingers in sharply, smiling at the stilted moan she lets out and her pleading, watery eyes. You swirl your tongue around her clit as you set a fast pace with your fingers.

Your name falls from her lips, the pitch getting higher each time as she mindlessly grabs at the sheets and pillows.

"Please, please...Yes!" Her hips jerk up, eager to draw more pleasure from you as slick builds on your fingers. You curl your fingers upwards and watch her eyes go wide before her lashes flutter as her eyes roll.

You feel her muscles twitch and pull away just enough to see how her swollen folds glisten. You pull your fingers out and replace it with your tongue, pushing it as deep as you can go, grinding your nose into her clit as she grabs fistfuls of your hair, her body curling upwards as her moans and whimpers of your name become more desperate.

You feel the telltale stutter of her hips and tremble of her thighs before she even says anything and you bury yourself further in her, lungs beginning to cry for air as you work your tongue further and further in until she suddenly jolts and a new, warm liquid coats your tongue.

You pull away, panting as you lap up her climax. Sweet and salty, just like you remembered. Did you taste the same to her? Or would she know certain notes and undertones about you that no one else would?

"Oh…" She mutters under her breath, slowly blinking at the ceiling. "Thank you. Fuck I needed that so much."

You hum, more entranced with how her muscles would twitch whenever your tongue brushed over a certain spot.

"Hey," She grabbed your hair again and gently tugged you up to look at her, her hair a mess and lips bitten raw, voice raspy between her chuckles. "Let me breathe for a moment?"

You wipe your chin and cheek as you crawl forward, ready to spend the night cuddling until she— you don't wanna think about that. You just want to savor this moment, this moment that wasn't infrequent enough to be rare, but is just far enough apart to make you crave her presence, her voice, her touch. Her very existence has been memorized on your heart, little engravings on the muscle that ached constantly.

She caught your lips in a kiss so slow and soft and deep you felt your thoughts scramble and shatter, only focusing on the dance the dance and pull she invited you to indulge in. You open your eyes as your lips separate for a moment and find hers looking back at you, watching you, drinking you in as if she can't get enough of what she sees. Does she always kiss you with her eyes open?

She breathes into you, soft and melting as if you were made for each other as if the place you belong is in her arms and on her lips. A hum, a final note in your union as she rests her head on your shoulder. Your fingers comb her hair, gently detangling it as you pray for sleep not to take you— to allow you these few hours of the night to relish in her arms around your hips so tightly it almost hurts. It almost hurts.

It's a slight numbness that's accompanied by the distant hum of cars that draws you to sleep in her arms. Praying once again, that this time— this night, she'll stay until you wake.

Golden rays shine into your tiny bedroom, lighting up the otherwise bland room in a hue of yellow that invites you to stay conscious for just a moment. To appreciate the new day before you remember to dread it. You groan and stretch your arms, hissing when you move too much for your sore muscles.

Like every morning, you reach for your phone and mindlessly scroll through your various social media. Nothing unusual, but a post catches your eye.

It's a public announcement. It says,

Warning all civilians, wanted Sinner—

Cinnabar's lips find your neck as her hand covers the screen, turning your head toward her only allows her to find your lips, her hips pressing against yours. Unlike last night, the kiss is gentler, still eager and still speaking of an appetite not yet fully sated, but she was taking her time in tasting you.

"What do you say," She mumbles between kisses. "We go on a trip somewhere? Together?" She pulls back just enough to let you talk, not enough to let you see anything else but her.

"A trip…?" Going on a getaway with her. It's a dream come true all too suddenly, but letting the dream go feels like eating coal.

"Yeah, just the two of us." She smiles forlornly. "Maybe a nice cabin in the woods for a few weeks?" She traces the side of your face and you see that restlessness again in her eyes. "It'd be nice to be surrounded by nature."

You thought about it. About the life you've lived amongst concrete dirt and brick trees, of the people who treated you like a rat more than a human, and about the life you could live, with her— if even only for a few weeks amongst dewy air and crunching leaves. Alone with no distractions.

"Sure, just let me pack—"

"No need." She smiled and placed a soft kiss on your nose. "We'll have everything we need there, you don't need to bring anything."

"But—"

"Shhh, relax. I'll take care of you. I promise."

More kisses, more gentle touches, but her nails dig slightly into your skin and her teeth nip at your lips. When she sat up to press your wrists down into the sheets, fingers bruising, you saw that night in her eyes again. The endless, wanting, encasing, drowning, darkness that eclipsed her pupils—

It was a thing beyond love, beyond care, a thing that seemed not to hold you, but to own you. To encase itself inside you and rot your heart until you cannot tell where love ended and obsession began.

Perhaps what's worse than that, than the subtle thought she communicated through her blunt nails painfully pressing into skin, is that you went lax and doe-eyed, that you returned her rewarding kiss with fervor, that you let her mark and marr your skin again.

Perhaps the worst thing of all is your loneliness.

#unhappy writings #yandere ptn #yandere cinnabar ptn #yandere path to nowhere #yandere female #yandere #yandere fic #ptn #path to nowhere x reader #path to nowhere fanfic #path to nowhere #ptn x reader #ptn cinnabar #ptn cinnabar x reader #ptn x gn reader

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shalomniscient · 9 months ago

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(I’m desperate for angst so—)

Wonder how you will react when Zoya’s disappear after the Black Ring accident thingy? Even better if you’re married at that time. Poor wifey’s heart couldn’t take the pain of Zoya just disappear without a trace with Bai Yi. (Bai Yi, I love you very much darling but WHERE IS ZOY—😭) Anyway… I’m craving angst, that’s all. 😊

(Feel free to ignore this if you’re uncomfortable with this.)

[zoya story spoilers utc—]

now this? this hurts. when i first started ptn i cooked up kind of an oc or at least a zoya x reader plot where reader is leggett's (zoya's kind-of father figure) daughter and it's kinda childhood friends to lovers because i'm a whore for that shit tinged with a whole lotta angst because zoya's backstory is just chock-full of it. you and zoya join the legion at the same time because zoya refuses to go anywhere without you, so earl is forced to cave and let you in too.

horo looks up to you as much as she looks up to zoya, and idolizes the kind of relationship you and zoya have. horo and by extension the legion is there for nearly all of you and zoya's budding relationship, hell, i'd even say that earl was the one to officiate the wedding. all in all the legion becomes the one big found family everyone involved has been craving, with you and zoya at the heart.

so when zoya 'dies', it's a devastating blow to all of them. not to mention earl, too. i can picture you grabbing chief by the collar and demanding to know where zoya is, only for chief to helplessly say they don't know. zoya's alive, but no one knows where she is. you aren't the same after that, and horo has to watch her older sister figure sob into the arms of a stranger because there's no one else left.

things get a little better when horo steps into her new role as the leader of the legion. she isn't zoya, nowhere close, but she's what they all need right now. you and horo find some comfort in each other, as the only remaining family they have. but sometimes you need a little time alone, and you heads to a spot you and zoya used to frequent as kids, then teenagers, then adults, but always together—until now.

there's a sort of commemorative representation of zoya there, erected by the remnants of the legion, and you just kind of sit there for a while, hoping it can substitute the absence of your wife. it doesn't, but you try anyway. "come home," you whisper to the wind, but the echoing silence is your only answer, as it has been since the day you lost her. so you get up and leave, before your grief roots you to the ground.

(little do you know, in the shadows of a crumbled building, your wish reaches its receiver. and it takes every ounce of strength in her not to step out of the darkness and back into your arms.

she grits her teeth and walks away, just like you. there is something she needs to do first, but then, she'll run right back home. back to you.

she swears it.)

#sev.responses #ptn #zoya #zoya x reader

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whenstarslie · 5 months ago

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Made a tier list about cat!chief in your fic

Been playing ptn for a while and I don't know much of these characters so I based them on vibes and appearance feel free to change it

If your wondering why wolverine is on top its because I hc during the incident cat!chief has some beef with Pippy as for tetra and princilla probably because they are the Fox and Rabbit idk just te vibes

Anyway have a Good day :DD

Ooh, this is good! I imagine this is how cat!Chief will separate Sinners by their likeability after Nightingale calms her down and can't return to human because the neutralizer is unavailable. Bet the Sinners will try to get cat!Chief to like them, but she's just too fickle and unpredictable to figure out and please.

I made an extensive tier list based on yours and explained why I categorize a specific Sinner in a tier. This only covers globally released Sinners up to Bianca. You can see it below.

Will straight out murder you in your sleep / Will sacrifice you to the gods

Peggy - noisy as fuck #1

Joan - noisy as fuck #2

Dr. Iron - smells like a hospital; doctors/veterinarians and cats often don't mix well.

Chameleon - tried to hypnotize cat!Chief once and ended immediately on the hit list.

Dudu - noisy as fuck #3

Echo - noisy as fuck #4

Shawn - I don't think any explanation is needed on this one.

Raven - terrible poetry and can be classified as 'Wants you out of her territory' because of her ink ravens.

Wants you out of her territory

Wolverine - Pippy

Chelsea - Sitri is seen as an intruder, and gemstones don't make good cat toys. Boxes make better beds than expensive plush ones, sorry.

Serpent - snakes

Doesn't want you near 24/7

Lisa - it's actually the other way around; Lisa doesn't want to be involved.

Kelvin - I'm sorry, Kelvin, but your powers do not agree with cat!Chief.

Gekkabijin

Demolia - the smell from scavenging does not sit well with cat!Chief's sensitive nose, is only tolerable if she approaches after a bath.

Flora - smells like smoke.

Victoria

Cassia - cat!Chief isn't a fan of her perfumes

Stargazer

Enfer

Oak Casket

Cabernet - close to joining the 'Will straight out murder you in your sleep / Will sacrifice you to the gods' squad.

Etti - her idea of 'playtime' isn't feline-friendly

Shalom - poor Shalom, even Rahu is more liked than you; does not stop her from trying and taking pictures of cat!Chief

Lady Pearl

Bianca - considered a nuisance by cat!Chief, she's this close to joining the 'Will straight out murder you in your sleep / Will sacrifice you to the gods'.

Aggressively bites

Tetra

Pricilla

Mess - only if she annoys cat!Chief, which is often.

McQueen - gets chomped on the moment cat!Chief hears her voice

Corso - For the last time, Corso, you don't challenge a cat to a fight!

Uni

Zoya - thinks it's amusing; gets climbed on a lot because of her height; her head scratches are giving her way to 'Will tolerate you (within limits)'.

Langley - no one bosses a cat; they make the not-so-evil boss and her cat duo work, close to joining 'Will tolerate you (within limits)'.

Bullies you for fun / Messes with your stuff

EMP

Levy - needs to rethink bringing in expensive stuff inside the bureau; cat claws are pretty sharp

Nino - her streams always get interrupted by cat!Chief taking over her keyboard or chewing on the computer cables

Eureka - cats and potentially dangerous inventions don't mix well

Summer - the frustrating combination of Nino and Eureka

Bai Yi

Coquelic - her flower beds were ruined, her clothes shredded to pieces, etc.; might as well be allergic to cats at this point

Donald - see that luscious blond hair, now it's a mess; surprisingly good with cats, close to earning his way to 'Likes you'.

Vanilla - same as Eureka

Eugene - gets bullied on day one, and continues to get bullied afterward

Will tolerate you (within limits)

Pepper

Macchiato - good with cats, might join the 'Likes you' squad soon.

Wendy - murder buddy #1, they surprisingly vibe together

Roulecca - don't let them team up during a gamble/bet

Mr. Fox

Luvia Ray

Ariel - would have joined the 'Likes you' team if she hadn't accidentally stepped on cat!Chief's tail many times.

Anne - only if she's not in the medical ward with cat!Chief

Kawa-Kawa

Letta - nap buddy #1

Christina - if she's not investigating who stole someone's food (cat!Chief is the culprit, btw)

Golan

Eirene - chess games go wrong

Demon

Deren

Du Ruo - only if the incense doesn't smell strong

Likes you

K.K. - cat butler #1

Che - nap buddy #2

Sumire - gives excellent head scratches #1

Cinnabar - cat butler #2

Lynn - the only one who cat!Chief approached first

Garofano

Matilda - one of the few that do not bother cat!Chief, gives excellent head scratches #2

NOX - cat butler #3

Hamel

Dreya - they vibe together when stargazing

Rahu - surprisingly more liked than Shalom

Eleven - nap buddy #3, her voice is soothing for cat!Chief

Angell

Wynn

Likes you because you're a heater / you always have food

Labyrinth - cat butler #4, heater #1

Pacassi - heater #2

Ninety-Nine - heater #3, food buddy #1

Ignis - heater #4, food buddy #2

Thistle - tries to be subtle when giving food

Adela

Yao - first falls under the 'Food' tier and later becomes heater #5

Faye - bribes with food, gets an increase of visitors in the Supply Office and revenues in exchange; catnip dealer

Sees you as one of her kittens / kids

Hella - gets scolded often #1

Oliver

Horo - gets scolded often #2, play buddy #1

Hecate

Dolly - play buddy #2

Crache - murder buddy #2

OwO - gets scolded often #3, play buddy #3

Eve - best lap pillow

Yanyan - play buddy #4

Bites, scratches, and cuddles affectionately / Loves you / Will listen to you

Nightingale - the only person who can make cat!Chief listen...but that does not mean she will obey

Food

Lamia

Mantis

Ducks - nearly got eaten on day one, now terrified of cat!Chief

Scared shitless of you

No fear. Cat!Chief's a hellspawn.

#ask me stuff #ptn asks #path to nowhere #pathtonowhere #I had fun replying to this

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sinful-lanterns · 2 months ago

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‼️CW: THIS POST CONTAINS CN ONLY CONTENT‼️

I’m like a day late to talk about this but—

Wow. Pylgia is so unnervingly beautiful. All the coral around her gives off such an unsettling vibe, but I rlly dig it. Also, it seems that PTN is starting to really like making gingers, as Zephyr is now our 5th ginger haired character 😭😭 (Christina, Pearl, Echo, Korryn). I don’t mind one bit though, another orange to the fruit basket!

As for the skins, it seems that Vanilla is an Android and you know what that means? CLANK CLANK CLANK— anywho, Oak Casket and Dudu appear together once more! This time with actual Halloween-themed costumes. I never thought Oak Casket could get any cuntier but yet here she is, serving cunt once more as a sexy carriage driver <3

#⛓️ inmate confessions #path to nowhere #ptn #where is my mantis skin tho #where is my bby

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slimeranch7 · 1 year ago

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Would you mind a Countess Chelsea request?! I don’t see a lot of any PTN fics so I’m kinda desperate :~: the sky is ur limit with this one if you do do it!

Fun fact: the name of this draft is called "Chelsea req attempt 6"

ao3 link

Content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence and murder

-----

The gentle beat of a heart that isn't yours pounds in your ears like a heavy, persistent drum.

Lub dub… Lub… Dub…

It doesn't feel real. The guttural imagery forever burned through your rose tinted glasses, impossible to scrub the scar off your mind. You could never forget the way poor Sitri writhed until bright red blood stopped spurting from the gaping hole of her chest. She goes limp without a sound.

Your throat was raw from screaming and begging. Eyes burning, yet still endlessly welling with tears. Your grip on the hem of father's coat loosened, leaving behind deep, ugly wrinkles in its wake.

Father was never this cruel. Father was strict, yes. He demanded only the best from his only daughter, he expected polish and grace. He worked Chelsea to the bone, but provided more than enough for her and Sitri to live comfortably as your family's lapidarist.

Father was stern and rough, but he never… He would never…

Sinew and blood drips from his hand. Your own pulse drowns all else out of reality, and leaves the world to spin on an uneven axis. A heap of pink before the dark shadow of your father, separated by a deepening pool of sickly red.

You trip over your own two feet to get to Chelsea, landing painfully on your knees, but the imminent bruising was the least of your concerns. Your father, terrible, cruel father, calls your name, but it echoes like a distant howl lost in a vast garden of fury.

Arms wrapped delicately around her head, pressing her flush against your chest to let her know you're here through the frenzied rhythm of your heart. Delicate, manicured fingers gently cards through long locks of pink. You're here. You're still here even if Sitri isn't.

A shadow casts over your trembling figures, accompanied by the familiar clicks of expensive heels.

"Stay the fuck away from my daughter…!" A monster rages behind you.

Even as he pulls you by the collar, you persist and instinctively drag yourself against his force, fear and defiance taking the helm of your body and mind. Bloody, warm knuckles brush against your neck and sullying your clothes. It sends sickening shivers down your spine.

But he doesn't get far.

Chelsea lurches forward, reaching behind you and grabbing your father by the wrist. In an instant, he violently recoils, a blood curdling cry cut short by a string of the most vulgar curses you've ever heard him utter.

Glass shatters behind you, pelting against marble tiles. Your father's anguished howls don't stop even as the chamber empties of all other sounds.

His entire forearm is taken off- torn sleeve soaked darkly with his own blood, and you could almost see the disturbing white of his bone underneath fibrous, gory flesh. Blood spurts from broken vessels in increments, pooling over Sitri's corpse and soaking her already dirtied fur.

Pieces of ruby-colored gems caked his gaping wound.

You dared to sneak a peak at Chelsea, whose eyes were wide as yours.

Protectively, she pushes you behind her, and lunges towards your father, now more monster than man.

His nose, brows and mouth contorts into a wicked, vile snarl, high on adrenaline, and mindless enough to attempt another clumsy swipe at the younger girl.

She dodges with ease, letting him stumble from his own momentum, before twisting his other free wrist, and oh, you could see it- the way his skin breaks, splits, red, translucent stones slipping from between tight strings of muscle, breaking off bit by bit and scattering like bugs before your feet and rolling to a stop.

He pitifully collapses, face wet with tears and drool and snot. There's a sheen layer of sweat caking his head and neck, from exertion and agony, now that both his arms were turned into pellets of gemstones scattered across the chamber.

You couldn't quite make out his expression, though you're positive it would have looked nothing like the impassive, self-assured father you once had. Chelsea's figure hovers over you, intentionally blocking him from your view.

You can do nothing but stare up, frightful and wavering, eyes drifting over to her fingers.

Chelsea cups your face with her bloody sleeve, frown still apparent, but her eyes hold no ill intent. Rather, it's sad, wet with tears. Having seen too much. Lost too much. Sitri is- was family to her.

Shaky hands grips her lapel as she leans down to you on one knee. You tremble, shaken, mind still lagging minutes behind trying to process your trauma, but your gut doesn't scream danger. It never did in the presence of your Chelsea, after all.

She slowly lifts a finger to trace your hair, experimentally. It doesn't crystalize, or split, or shatter like your father's arms did, so she moves down to your cheeks, tracing a stray tear. You can feel the way it shrivels into itself, hardening and growing heavy, before it falls by itself beneath your collar, sitting heavy and uncomfortable under your shirt, but still warm.

"You misunderstand," She suddenly says, glassy eyes still trained on yours, but she isn't addressing you. "I was only asking for your blessing, not your permission."

Her thumb hovers over your eyes, urging you to close them. Hot lips pressed against yours. Her hair tickles your jaw as she hovers above you, tilting your face to meet hers. You feel her hands groping your thighs softly. The kiss lasts for eternity, drawing your breath, like a feverish, lascivious show intended for the wrong audience…

And suddenly she withdraws as fast as she closes in, air turning frigid without her overwhelming presence. You resist the urge to peak.

There were no final words, no parting jabs. Just a strangled gasp that puts a stop to the incessant, pained wheezing. Then it rained stones. Priceless, valuable gemstones, clacking obnoxiously and echoing across the chamber.

When she prompted you gently, you opened your eyes in search of your lover, you were instead met with a beast, dark and muted pink. Subdued and indistinct. A shadow cast over her face, hiding the dangerous mania residing behind her gaze.

Smiling, she leans down, content, pressing herself against your chest, lulled by the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat. Warmth shares itself between your bodies. Those useless gemstones could never compare. You're still here. You're still here, even if no one else is.

#path to nowhere #countess chelsea x reader #TW: graphic violence

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mang0-after-dark · 2 years ago

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A Sweet Prize

PtN x Chief! Reader

Not really smut or dark, just some dumb fun with some allusion to smut.

Words: 944

Notes: I couldn’t decide on a character to have be the winner, so maybe there will be later fics for different character winning their prize. Any input on who the winner should be is welcome.

"Why did I agree to this?" You whisper to yourself, eyes scanning over the sight that stares back through the mirror. The sound of applause and cheers echo out from the stage that had been set up for the night.

A show and a small raffle, all to raise and keep morale. Some entertainment would be good for mental stability, they said. The whole thing was being run by Serpent, should have been the first clue of your imminent embarrassment, Peggy and Joan would both be performing, Kelvin prepared a wide variety of cold treats for audience enjoyment. By all accounts it would be a near flawless event within the MBCC.

"Alright, my lovely Sinners! You've all made an amazing audience for us tonight! But sadly, all good things must eventually end," Serpent speaks sadly, her voice echoing as she takes careful steps across the stage, "but since you have all made such a good audience, I do have one final little magic trick to show you all!"

It's almost time…

"I'm sure you've all been wondering what the number one, topmost, extra special mystery prize for the raffle is!" Murmurs excitedly weave through the crowd, "well wonder no more! This next trick will SHOW you!"

A pair of staff members roll a pair of large boxes onto the stage, both decorated with bright colors and swirling patterns. Serpent paces across the stage to stand next to one box.

"For this final trick, I will need an assistant, but this time, not from the audience. Tell me, lovely sinners, have you noticed someone missing out there?" Again murmurs rise in the quiet pause, "well everyone clap extra loud for my assistant in this final trick! The MBCC Chief!" She shouts excitedly, the music cue starting up in time with her words.

It's time…

You step out onto the stage to be met with the barrier of applause, all the shackled sinners that have been brought to the MBCC seated comfortably and smiling up at the revelry being displayed for them. A shy smile tugs at your lips, even if your humiliation is nigh, you need to keep the surprise safe.

It was months that this event was being planned and prepared, months that the final prize was a secret known only to you, and to Serpent who came up with the idea.

"Well Chief, just this once, I hold you'll forgive me for being the one to give orders!" Chuckles echo from the crowd, Serpent opens the large box beside her, "well, please step inside here! Wave the lovelies goodbye, Chief!" A small wave as you try to swallow your nerves, slowly sinking into the box as Serpent closes the lid over your head.

"Well with that started, I'll reveal to you all what it is I'll be doing!" Serpent starts, her heels clicking loudly as she walks away from the prop boxes, "a little trick of teleportation! You see, the Chief will disappear! And out of the other box, will be the number one raffle prize!" She explains excitedly, her own giddiness at the reveal being covered up by her normally bouncy attitude.

"Does anyone have any questions before we do this?" Serpent steps out towards the front edge of the stage.

A voice echoes slightly in the room, "what will happen to the Chief?" Nightingale's voice echoes, having been given the night off for the event.

"Oh I promise, the Chief will be just fine! She'll appear a little ways away is all!" Serpent nearly sings, "anyone else?"

Silence hangs, the air buzzing for the next, final, reveal.

Serpent clicks back to the boxes, tapping on the box you had gone into and causing the small structure to fall apart, revealing its newly emptiness. Murmurs echo as she steps across to the second box, resting her hand on its lid as she turns to face the audience.

"Now, on the count of three everyone!" She announces, inciting shouted participation from the audience.

"One!" Here it comes…

"Two!" Will there be any respect left for you?..

"Three!" Well, you guess it doesn't matter now…

Serpent lifts the lid, the box crumbling like the first did, and standing out from the remains…

The chief stands up, lifting one leg up behind them, back straight to their full height, one arm propped against their hip, the other raised in a peace sign in front of their face. All in a playboy bunny suit.

The sparkly cloth hugs skin tight, leaving not a single curve or line in your body to the imagination, the slightly too tight fishnet leggings giving your legs a squishing appearance, the stiletto high heels offering little support but add noticeable height, and the tall bunny ear headband sits over your head, one ear flopping downward from the movement of standing up.

Stunned silence is quickly stomped out by deafening applause and cheers, even from up on the stage, you can feel the burning gazes of the sinners on your body.

Serpent speaks to pull attention off you, if only slightly, "you see, Lovelies, our number one prize tonight, is a simple, but very intriguing one." She steps around to hold a hand out to the Chief, helping you step down from the box's display, "one night, no shackles, at least not for you, with the Chief! Anything you want to do, anywhere you want to go, all expenses paid by Minos! Just our lucky winner, and our lovely bunny Chief. Alone, and free to do whatever the winner wishes." Serpent practically purrs the last sentence, her own searing gaze being clear to anyone watching.

"So then, shall we start the game?"

#path to nowhere #path to nowhere x reader #Serpent #joan #peggy #Kelvin #not smut #just fun #please tell me who should win

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crimson-lair · 10 months ago

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HEYY HELLO, I COME WITH FULL ON IDEAS (that are slightly for fluff and affection only.. but I'll try not to disappoint ! Long post ahead though.. I couldn't help but type out my ideas !)

I was thinking of maybe jealous bots of ptn women, how would they act if they see y/n or user be so close with other people? Here are my ideas:

Rahu - Need I say moreee? Rahu is maybe really stoic and the type to not get jealous quite easily, but I think she'd be the type to get jealous if someone starts to take her duties away from y/n, like, the person starts to somewhat be too close to the user to the point where Rahu can't even approach y/n or fulfill her duties to keep y/n protected.. since the person is replacing her and is creating a distance between her and y/n. Rahu might deal with this in a way where she'd start to act touchy whenever it's only her and y/n or she'd outright find ways to find excuses to get y/n away from that person! She finds it difficult to approach y/n about it since she's quite shy and she doesn't know how to talk about it..

Shalom - MMMMM, Shalom shalom shalom, y'all probably would know where this is going.. once the most calm and reserved type starts to get jealous that's a big uh oh! I think Shalom would be jealous because of how a person starts to display a sense of superiority or closeness over y/n, as in the person keeps on winning y/n over Shalom in certain things, like going to missions, instead of Shalom going with y/n, someone else slipped in, orrrr when a person starts to be so touchy to the point where Shalom can't even do any small amount of physical gestures to y/n. Shalom might deal with this in a rather straightforward way, since she's the type of woman to become blunt whenever necessary especially when it comes to y/n, but sometimes, Shalom can really be condescending especially when she becomes way too jealous, she might show the person just how y/n is really close with her, or the fact that the person would have no chance to get to y/n because of how competitive Shalom is (e.g. Shalom will compete with the person through missions, quality time with y/n, etc)

Zoya - Here's our favorite, going once, going twice, maybe more than twice.. no, 5 times, 5 bots of her 😭. A jealous Zoya, will be a much bigger uh oh than Shalom's. Zoya might get jealous if y/n's attention or interest keeps going to another person. Zoya might also get jealous if the person keeps impressing y/n to a point where y/n can't even pay attention to Zoya anymore. Zoya might deal with this directly and almost immediately after she notices things started to change. Zoya would outright intimidate the person, like "If you keep pulling this sh*t I'll show you real sh*t" or she might end up driving the person away with threats, as said before.

BUT ANYWAY THANKYOU FOR READING MY TED TALKK, THIS IS ALL I HAVE TO SAY.. I HOPE ITS NOT TOO MUCH!

my darling anon 😌 ARE YOU THAT PERSON WHO PREVIOUSLY GIVING IDEAS ABOUT RAHU? if yes, such a big brain anon i have (you must be secretly a writer). regardless, i love your bunch of ideas 🫶

rather than making bots (i don't know how to make these jealous bots 😭) I'll be writing small scenario based on this!

can only do Rahu tho cuz, well, easier to make it comedy

---

Rahu paced silently through the corridors of the MBCC headquarters. Her normally stoic demeanor betrayed a flicker of agitation. She couldn't shake off the disquiet that settled within her whenever she witnessed that newcomer growing closer to you. The duties she held, the protective shield she formed around you, seemed to be slipping away, replaced by the unwelcome presence of another.

Every moment that newcomer spent in proximity to you felt like a dagger twisting in her chest.

One evening, as she stood vigilant by your side during a mission briefing, that person's laughter echoed in the background. Her silver eyes narrowed, and her fists clenched, but her external facade remained impassive.

Days passed, and she struggled to find a way to express her discomfort. Her stoicism, a shield against the world, became a barrier that even she couldn't dismantle. Instead, Rahu found herself acting out in small, subtle ways. She became touchier in moments when she was alone with you.

A soft hand on the shoulder, a protective stance when you walked together. Or during a team meeting, she'd strategically positioned herself behind your chair. With ninja-like finesse, she'd do a subtle shoulder massage, all while maintaining an innocent expression. Or even, when you engaged in conversation with that newcomer, she would swoop in, spin around, and deliver a high-five so intricate it left everyone bewildered. "Just checking in on Chief," she'd casually say before walking away.

---

discovery of the day: im such a bad writer

#zio's chains of curiosity

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shackld · 1 year ago

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im pretty sure ptn knows my least favorite event was the fuckin echoes thing and thats why they brought it back

#i dont like i dONT CARE #whatever it is they have rn i dont like it #;sir this is my emotional support cringefail gacha game protagonist. (ooc)

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serpentide · 2 years ago

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﹙ -`♡´- ﹚ › @wolvensden has bought a ticket for the circus :

❛ if you become involved with me, you will be throwing yourself into the abyss. ❜ ptn verse :3

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 ! 𝐇𝐄, 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐎��𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄, 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐁 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍. ophidian vixen swallows his words without chewing nor gnawing on them, for she knows that she will not enjoy their taste 'pon her tongue ; he speaks of the morrow as if it had already been written on stone and he was one of countless messiahs blessed with the ability to read the language of gods [ ... ] how unnerving to be judged by another with such keen eye, as if she was naught but that lonely girl in front of the camera once more ( how she wishes to bury her past where neither angels nor demons will ever be capable of unveiling its nauseating rot, how she wishes to shed this corrupted skin and be birthed anew into a woman that can finally be whole and filled to the very brim with merry sentiments / this mortal husk is hollow, hollow, hollow ) .

a hand raises, and the python languidly slithers across the lithe length of her arm 'til its head finally reaches her knuckles, black scales gleam beneath the dim light of the chaotic alleyway and its hisses of warning echo through the sonorous vacuum of their ruinous environment. not once has serpent's sugar - coated simper faltered, nor has she allowed the lineaments of her beauteous visage to express any emotion that was not an offspring of mischievous delight, speckled with a generous dose of taunting amusement ; his warning is not heeded, she was never meant to be the princess in this fairytale, after all. ❝ we have just met and you are already concerned over my safety ? what a darling, you are. ❞ whenever she speaks, she does so in song and rhyme ▬▬ silver bells chime between one syllable and the other, she is the serpentine siren luring him into a scaled embrace. ❝ however, i believe that you should not lower your guard around me. i am the manufacturer of the ambrosia and as such, you can rest assured that i am in need of neither protection nor concern. what solely matters to me is that our deal is finally officialized and that you will aid me in selling more and more ambrosia ! thanks to our precious partnership, everyone will be happy, everyone will finally be able to experience the sweetest dreams. ❞

#• ⸺ ﹙ -`♡´- ﹚ › verse : serpentine enchantment ┊ ( ptn ) .#wolvensden #i ... have no idea of what i'm doing #so please go with the flow lmao

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ptn-imagines · 6 months ago

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Hello I'm the person who ask for some advice in ptn. Thank you for ur tips, I already lost NOX which is sad but I'm alright with my team so far, I'm taking your advice on upgrading Raven more, I also tried to spend my 6 arest warant cuz why not. Only b character and echo which is cool. Thank you again for the tips

Not a problem! If you ever do get NOX in future, you should pretty much beeline for upgrading her, though.

#not imagines #again this is just my opinion

0 notes

grabthathorn · 2 years ago

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My favourite character from PtN is Langley (my beloved), even tho I don't have her (though I spent quite a few bucks in this game I have everyone but her sadly).

I'm actually brainrotting over her being the elusive lady that she is.

As a Chief it's our duty to catch her at all cost and bring her to justice, but the ting is : she always slips away no matter how much effort we put into the chase. Like a game of cat and mouse between us that lasts for a very long time.

It's frustrating how many times she just evaded us.

But what if one day this chase turns around? Where we are the prey? And she's chasing us and will not rest till she sinks her claws into tender flesh and rips us apart with her fangs?

Just... feral criminal lady getting sick and tired of this charade of cops'n'criminals and just makes us submit to her by any means.

(NEVER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I WANTED TO BE TOPPED SO BADLY. EVEN ZOYA AND 99 DOESN'T COME CLOSE HOW I FEEL ABOUT PRETTY BLONDE LADY WITH A GUN. But Iron comes the closest lol.)

anon you are absolutely unhinged and i respect it so much

cw // gunplay and a smidge of blood, 18+

By all accounts, the Chief of MBCC had made a series of grave mistakes.

While today was one of the rare occasions she had been offered a reprieve from taxing work - work that had spanned a far greater amount of land, people, and crystals than she had initially expected - that reprieve was proving to be far shorter than she expected. Sinners were the beginning and the end of her responsibilities, inextricably tied to every move the Chief made.

It didn’t help that many Sinners had become aware of her existence, often seeing her as a target to be eliminated.

Not that she could blame them - after all, losing your freedom to the state is far from an ideal lifestyle.

Yet, the Chief had been put on Langley’s case a few months back, the woman supposedly behind the breakdown of peace talks that were, for all intents and purposes, once-in-a-lifetime.

So as she ruminated over these thoughts, the Chief stumbled into an alleyway behind the bar she drank at, blinking through alcohol-blurred vision. She could make out an imposing figure at the other end, even in the dim light. What little light crested against the details of the woman’s figure bore her signature button-up and coat, alongside the skirt that hugged her hips and thighs.

The Chief didn’t even need to be sober to see the wide-brimmed hat that hid electric-blue eyes.

“Funny, isn’t it?” the cock of a gun echoed in the narrow alleyway. “All this searching put on a rookie…only for you to get caught first.”

Langley wasn’t wrong. Through the five months that the Chief had been assigned to her, there had only been one occasion in which she got close enough to possibly shackle her. Even then, Langley slipped through her fingers like grains of sand and was gone just as fast as she was found.

There would be no way the Chief could reach her in time before a bullet was put between her eyes.

It seemed the Sinner knew that as well.

Rounding on her heel, the Chief sprinted out of the alleyway, her adrenaline outdoing the effects of liquor. Now, with her heart pounding at the ribs in her chest, she could hear steady steps behind her, unwilling to even try to match her pace.

The Chief reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone, dialing anyone, Nightingale, Hecate, anyone at the MBCC who might be able to reach her in time.

BANG!

The phone clattered to the floor, and the Chief’s ear and thumb began to drip blood.

“The next shot won’t miss.”

Turning back to face Langley, the Chief backed herself against a wall, scowling. Her head felt hot, and she could scarcely keep her legs straight. Perhaps she shouldn’t have gotten so deep into the city.

With quick strides, Langley was inches in front of her, pressing the barrel of her gun against the underside of the Chief’s chin. Now, the officer could do little else but swallow, meeting that cold gaze with one of her own. Not that it could ever compare.

“Thinking about shackling me?” Langley murmured.

The frigid barrel was like a brand against the Chief’s skin. Though she knew she could easily touch Langley, the likelihood of shackling her through leather gloves and a nigh-incorruptible mind seemed unlikely. The Chief kept her gaze focused, yet kept her body still.

“What do you want?”

The barrel began to drag down the officer’s throat, catching at her collar. “Hm…Do you think our little game is fun?”

“Game?”

“Yes, game.” Langley tugged the gun down, ripping the top two buttons of the Chief’s shirt apart. “Where you chase me, desperately hoping to get me under your thumb like the rest of your lackeys…only for me to slip away just before you touch.”

The Chief gulped, the barrel now firmly pressed between her breasts.

If Langley hadn’t shot her by now, there was another reason for this play.

The Chief grabbed Langley’s wrist, and though it tensed under her touch, the trigger remained in its place. Langley chuckled, pressing her body closer.

“Stop pretending you’re above me, that you could ever hope to shackle me.” Langley sighed. “You were mine the moment you accepted my case.”

With one fell swoop, the gun did away with the rest of the buttons, resting the top of its barrel against the Chief’s cunt. The Chief made no move, both too paralyzed and too shocked to process what happened. No words were spoken in the moments after, and dark, warm lipstick left its mark against the Chief’s throat.

“What are you…”

“Shackling you.”

Langley’s mouth opened, her teeth digging into the Chief’s neck with enough ferocity to warrant small puncture wounds. Despite herself, the Chief sighed into the pain, her hips rocking back and forth against the barrel. It had barely been a minute, but her panties were already soaked through.

The hitman’s free hand reached up to palm one of the Chief’s breasts, digging her fingers in hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks, even with her leather gloves.

“How long do you think it will take for you to break?” Langley murmured, lapping at broken flesh. “Did they train you to withstand pain?”

The Chief’s head hung as Langley pulled away to watch the officer grind against her barrel, turning it slick.

Without a word, the Chief reached out to lean on Langley, grabbing her shoulders while whimpering nonsense.

In the back of her mind, she couldn’t fathom why she became so beholden so quickly. Perhaps, in this long-standing chase, a part of her had become fixated on Langley, wanting to find the layers beneath that murderous exterior. Or perhaps she had grown tired of controlling others, wishing those black-gloved hands would wrap around her throat.

“Oh my, it seems you’ve already broken.” Langley chuckled, wiping her lipstick off the Chief’s neck.

The Chief nodded, whimpering as she tugged on Langley’s tie, wanting to feel that bruising, cutting pain once more.

~~~

In the end, Langley gave herself freely over to MBCC. While her subordinates had drawn attention to its suspicious nature, the Chief waved them off, insisting that another Sinner shackled would be a net positive, no matter what ulterior motives Langley could have.

“Ma’am, Langley’s returned from her dispatch.” Nightingale announced.

With a nod, the Chief entered her office, finding Langley in her seat.

“Do you want to know what I’ve found?” Langley murmured, undoing her tie.

The Chief gulped, and locked the door behind her.

#quinnanswers #quinnsdrabbles #path to nowhere #langley x chief #langley

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