#punishing gray raven roland

[unhappy-last-resort]

The Puppet In A Forest (Yandere Roland x GN Reader)

Warnings: forced kissing, bone breaking, drugging, implied minor surgery performed without readers consent, tracking

A/N: I apologize for any stiff writing or grammar mistakes. This was literally just supposed to be this short little 1 AM thing for his birthday and it fucking spiraled into this

Status: edited

You wade through crystal waters, fireflies twinkling around you like little stars in the night and comforting you ever so slightly, the quiet chirping of crickets in the distance is calming enough to make you almost forget there was an ongoing war outside this place, but unfortunately not enough to make you forget why you're here. The letters you received six hours ago have led you to an rural town in the outskirts of Kowloong, to a pond with bamboo growing in its edges.

You suck in a breath and steady your grip on your gun. You really shouldn't be here, not for the reasons you're weaving through towering rods of bamboo, anyway. Your heart tussles with itself, one part saying that you should turn back, the other telling you to push forward. Meeting an Ascendant isn't just dangerous to your prestigious position as Gray Ravens commandant, but also physically.

You're going to the coordinates you found inside the Russian dolls Roland sent you and the thought that it's just a trap has never once left your mind. Roland is a trickster, murderer, manipulator, and an actor, there is absolutely no reason you shouldn't have forwarded those letters to Hassen and Nikola, no reason for you to be here alone, and no reason for you to feel a painful tug in your heart when you read the last line of his second letter.

"I'll be waiting for you and gladly accept whatever you have for me, whether it's a bullet, a restraint, or an Activation Date gift."

In your uncertainty, you've prepared all three, your gun loaded and drawn at any potential danger, the restraints dangling off your hip, and a small box of chocolates sitting securely in your bag. It's unconventional for a birthday gift, but you don't have time to look, or make something more appropriate and frankly, there's no reason for you to put more effort in. You're enemies, not friends, and you don't owe anything to him.

You keep moving, the mud of the ponds floor squishing beneath your thigh high boots, the water beneath you littered with fallen leaves from the bamboo above you. Gradually, the bamboo starts to thin out, easing you into a small empty space. There's a rock sitting in the center, bathed by the moonlight as fireflies dance around it.

You can't see anyone, or a sign that anyone was here to begin with, although it's not like you'd find much in a shallow pond at night. You carefully feel out the ground ahead of you before stepping forward, it's easy to fall for the illusion of ground beneath you and end up much more wet than you intended and it'd be much harder to explain your little trip to your team if you came back dripping wet.

You reach the center of the clearing and look around. No one's here, it's just you. The water sloshes and ripples with every movement you make, announcing your presence to the surrounding silence...was it always this quiet?

Plunk.

You whip around, gun pointed in the direction of the sound as you glare into the dark, as if the very darkness itself would somehow lift to reveal what hides inside it. You stay like that for half a minute, ears and eyes straining for movement, but there is none. No more noises, just silence. It's only now do you realize that the fireflies that were here have disappeared, as if they'd been scared off by something, but what could scare a bunch of bugs?

You look around again, re-observing your surroundings. You look down and see these tiny little black dots in the water, confused you reach down and scoop one up in your palm and bring it close to your face.

It's an insect, it looks like a firefly. Your eyebrows furrow and you check your terminal, scanning the air quality...nothing. Punishing levels are low, and nowhere near fatal for a human, and there are no other toxins present in the air. You rack your brains, trying to think of anything that might cause a bunch of bugs to just die like this, but you come up with nothing.

You inspect the bug again, as if there's anything else a simple big would be hiding-

Wait.

There are tiny, inconspicuous little ball joints on each of its legs, and a very thin seam where the body connects to its abdomen, which on closer inspection is just an LED light trapped in a casing. It's mechanical. It's a fake. You've been surrounded by hundreds of mechanical bugs since you came to the clearing, maybe since you first stepped foot near the pond.

You drop it from your hand, it's body making a small plink sound as it falls into the water. You sigh and look up, only to find yourself caught in the gaze of a pair of eyes.

A figure clad in black and white with grey hair stands as still as a statue. His hair is undone and pulled forward, his long locks falling over his shoulders, his eyes glow like jewels in the moonlight, the cool tones of his outfit making his eyes stand out even more.

"Prefiero un minuto contigo a una eternidad sin ti." He whispers, the silence around us making even the quietest whispers apparent. "I never thought you would come. Hah...I thought I'd made myself a fool again."

You sigh through your nose, your grip on your gun is tight, but pointed at the water. In your shock you hadn't pointed it at him, your mind still trying to fathom how many fake fireflies there were and what else around you was an illusion that, you hadn't thought of giving yourself a defensive position. And getting into one now may escalate things.

"You're always a fool." You mutter ruefully, keeping your eyes on his. "Why would you think your enemy would respond to you?"

A grin stretches across his face, growing wider until he bursts into a chuckle. "Well, you did, didn't you? Besides," He pauses, smile dropping into a deadpan. "I did say I wanted to get you out, no matter what. Didn't I?"

"What would you have done if the letters hadn't worked, then?"

Another chuckle. "Oh, wouldn't my little rabbit like to know? Tell you what, if you can win my game, I'll tell you."

Roland starts moving towards you, he moves silently, so much so that if you hadn't seen the water moving you would have thought he was a ghost or a figment of imagination. It was like he was one with the space around him, seamlessly fitting in as if he belonged there- as if he was always there.

You breath, feeling more anxious by the moment as Roland closes in at a steady pace. "What game?"

"It's just a simple question, if you answer correctly you win, if you don't..." He smiles again.

"...What happens if I lose?"

"Hmm....I get to take a present from you." He stops at arms reach from you, smile still plastered on his face and an undeniable glee glinting in his eyes.

"I already brought you one though." His eyes widened in surprise, his smile faltering for a moment.

"You really brought me a gift? Here I was expecting you to restrain me and bring me back to Babylonia."

You watch him for a moment before reaching a hand into the bag at your hip, Roland's eyes flickering from your hand to your face, the flurry of emotions behind them tells you he's as desperate as he is distrusting of you right now. Slowly, you pull out the chocolates and hand it to him.

"Aww, do you really have to be so stiff?" He chuckles, tilting his head slightly, it felt half mocking, half curious as he graciously took the box from you and gingerly opens it.

"Oh my, this is quite a romantic gift. Could it be the Gray Raven Commandant is harboring feelings for an Ascendant?" He muses, feigning shock.

You roll your eyes and attempt to snatch the box out of his hand. "I can always take it back."

He leans back, looking almost offended, keeping the chocolates out of your reach. "Of course not! Anything from you is treated with the utmost care."

"But this is the first time you're getting something from me?"

He smiles, popping a chocolate in his mouth before tucking the box away in his coat. "Well now, should we start the game?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Is this place real, or an illusion?" He stares at you, smile still on his face as the question hangs in the silence.

"...What?"

"Is it real, or an illusion?"

His expression is indiscernible, emotions hidden behind the thick curtain of a jester's smile. The silence of the area you're in is deafening, the previous chirps of crickets had long gone, leaving you and Roland in a pool of knee deep water, sprinkled with mechanical bugs on its surface.

As much as those things may have been fake, you were certain the rest couldn't be. The lake, the bamboo, those things had to be real. The amount of materials required to do something isn't something Roland would have access to, not to mention the time required.

"It's real."

He looks pleased, too pleased for your liking. "Is that your final answer?"

You hesitate. Are you wrong? Or is that just what he wants you to think? Indecision rips at your mind, your thoughts circling each other over and over, never getting any closer to an answer. Is he playing a trick, or are you overthinking? But he looked so happy when you said it was real, so you must've gotten it wrong, right?

"Uh...No!" You fumble, almost out of desperation. Your answer swings like a pendulum in your mind.

"No?" He drawls, putting a hand to his chin as he watches you.

"No...it's fake." You breath.

Roland raises a brow. "Are you sure?"

You suck in a breath, if you take it back again, you'll just be stuck in a never ending loop of second guessing yourself. "Yes."

Roland laughs and it makes you flinch, it feels especially loud in your ears for some reason. "Alea jacta est. Congratulations, my dear little puppet."

He announces with all his usual bravado as he closes the distance between you two. Alarmed you move back only for his hand to grip your wrist, rendering your hand with the gun useless. You pull at your arm as hard as you can, but you only succeed in earning a chuckle from him.

He pulls you close and before you can realize what's going on you feel lips press against yours in a greedy, pawing kiss. His teeth nip at your bottom lips, his tongue swiping over and attempting to push through your lips. You resist, refusing to open your mouth and using all your strength to break yourself free.

"Quit struggling." Roland grunts and twists your wrist unnaturally, a snap sounding up your arm and you open your mouth to scream, only for it to never make it out into the world and being swallowed by Roland instead.

His tongue explores every inch of your mouth with a fervor that speaks of an untold longing and desperation, an insatiable need that quickly overwhelms you with the pain in your wrist.

You feel drowsy, the edges of your vision blurring as continues his forced affection. You try to fight it, but you can't, your vision fading on a string of saliva between you and eyes of amber and ruby aglow like flames.

You gasp, your heart pounding as you stare at the wooden beams above you. It takes you a moment to realize you're in the abandoned tea house, the one you and your team decided to camp in.

You sit up slowly, your sleeping bag rustling quietly as you move. Your head hurts and you feel woozy just from sitting up, it takes you a moment to realize one of your wrists is bandaged, although it doesn't feel like it was done well despite it appearing to be wrapped properly.

You groan, how did you end up hurting your wrist again? Everything feels so foggy in your head that you can't remember.

"Hey Command- what the hell?" A captain dashes over to you, you vaguely remember his name being Casper.

Ah, that's right. You were sent on a mission to Kowloong to help assist a team that had gone for artifact retrieval. The battle ended a while ago and your team agreed to wait until day break to return to Babylonia.

Casper looks flustered, gently bringing your arm up to inspect your cast.

"Hey, Didi! Get Mao and have him dress a wound the Commandant got!" He yells to the door before turning back to you. "How did you do this? You should've asked one of us to help you if you didn't know how to wrap your injury."

You consider saying something, but instead you give a half-hearted smile and apologize. You don't want to cause them more grief than you likely already have.

An airy chuckle dances in the wind as the transport craft from Babylonia lifts off with its passengers. Pointlessly, Roland waves it goodbye as if you could see it- not like you'd appreciate it even if you did. Maybe you'd even hate him by now, if you hadn't before.

Still, like a fool he clung to the hope that you'd be someone he could count on. No, that's not quite right. Something he could own, a person he could claim for himself and not share with others.

As much as the temptation to whisk you away as you rested unconscious in his arms was deliciously enticing, he would be a fool to think he could protect you from Babylonia's lackeys, let alone in this old frame. Without a doubt the best of the best would come from you and he had difficulty enough with just Gray Raven, and that Kamui fellow and his original have been a pain too. The only way he'd be able to do that now would be to go to Der Meister himself and he made his skin crawl. He would never trust the likes of him with Luna, or you.

For now, he'll just have to settle with knowing where you are. He did his best to make sure everything was sterile when he made the incision, although he was still worried that it might get infected...Oh well, even if it did and that tracker got discovered, there are still others among your things, so it won't be that big of a deal.

"La vie est une fleur dont l'amour est le miel. 'Til we meet again, my dear."

[goshushin]

that one shitpost of Roland and skk that lives in my head rent-free ※oc指揮官 , very subtle roland/skk

[artistic-aidorus]

girl help i cant stop making Roland ones

[valsshadow]

so. i found out where the fandom get its delicious official art from(i love cn servers for this)

here’s some of the official arts i found that i dont think are being circulated about the fandom as much. TIME TO UPDATE YOUR WALLPAPERS GUYS

enjoy

this is like one of the rare times i appreciate knowing chinese. the chinese wikis>>> they have so many high quality official arts. and all the fanart is also linked to it. there are some upright ones for phones too

yall dm me if theres a particular chatacter you want i have some more downloaded(but its mostly the guys)

[morninglight07]

Are we all set ? Alright lights , camera and action! Do your best my dear ;]

[keilng]

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧。◟ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ! — PGR Men x reader

last night, I laid in bed so blue / then I realized the truth!

summary // how do your favorite constructs kiss you?

a.n. - post Valentine's post :D I've been so busy with irl lately, I only just got back on my Tumblr 🫠 how'd your valentine's go?(I had a date with my school project :'D so peinful)

pairing(s) - lee, chrome, wanshi, kamui, camu, watanabe, noan, roland, noctis x f!commandant (and can be gender neutral!) (separate!)

content // suggestive LOL basically how your favorite playable characters would kiss you scenarios~

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Lee: Hyperreal

Kissing Lee is like breathing.

Inhaling, in the way his hands are on your jaw, the little smile on your lips when his breath fans yours. Breathing in, the smell of the cologne you've gifted him makes you dizzy in a good way, the softest brush of his mouth on the corner of your lips. Taking in, the taste of chocolate; bitter as the coffee you made the first time, yet morphs into something so sweet as sugar cookies, and you can feel him smiling as your lips meet, savoring every drop he offers—

Exhaling, as Lee pulls away to give you air, foreheads touching, because you are both too intertwined to move away from one another.

“We made quite a mess here,” you giggled.

The newly-made kitchen of the Gray Raven base is as messy as a child's breakfast: pots and pans strung everywhere, chocolates and other liquids splattered all over the counter, the drain is probably clogging for some reason (it was Lee's fault), and there was a burnt cake placed somewhere (your fault) but you both never minded those.

“I told you to let me handle all the baking,” Lee huffs, thumbs unconsciously caressing your jaw, “You had to be so stubborn.”

“I knew what I was doing,” you pout, “You always follow the recipe, even though you could just do some feeling!”

“I am starting to doubt your feelings. Remember the first-”

“-not another word.”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry to burst your bubble.” Lee smiles at you, hands now placed beside your legs on the table you sat on, “We might as well clean up and just order something else.”

“Nooo,” you whine, tugging on his 'Kiss the Cook' apron, “The last cake is in the oven. It'll be done. I promise, it will taste yummy.”

Your lover laughs, his head rubbing your cheek, “Remind me again why we are baking?”

“It was supposed to be my surprise for you for Valentine's.” You admit, sighing, “You had to come and ruin it.”

Everything feels natural; his body fills in the gaps in yours. His head rests on your neck, your hand on his cheek and hair, his arms on your waist. You breathe in the same air, laughing off the smell of the burnt cake from earlier.

“I'm sorry,” he softly murmurs, his lips lightly kissing your neck, “...at least I get to take you out tonight.”

“Tonight?” Did you have a plan for tonight?

“Yes. I reserved a table for us at the restaurant you like.”

What a surprise. Pulling away to look at Lee's cerulean eyes, you somehow realized something:

“I thought you hated dining outside of our lounge.”

“I do,” Lee purses his lips, before sighing, “but I know we've been busy and you wanted to eat outside. Besides, it's still practical because of the restaurant's offer for Valentine's.”

Ah, this man is so smooth. You already knew that it wasn't just for that reason. Leaning to press your lips into his, you could feel your heart leap out of joy. You could hear the ting of the oven, but you never cared. You only wanted Lee's kiss— Lee's love, in the form of inhaling, taking in, exhaling.

“Commandant,” Lee pulls away slightly, whispering, “the cake-”

“I love you, Lee,” you giggled, hands threading in his hair as you purposely let your leg catch that particular spot that made him shudder, “You're so sly.”

“...You better finish what you've started, Commandant.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Chrome: Glory

Kissing Chrome is needy.

It's hot, it's heavy— his hands that grasped your shoulders, almost afraid you'd disappear if he wasn't careful; yet, still so gentle— his lips on yours are so soft, you feel like you'd melt if he wasn't holding you.

“I missed you,” Chrome mumbles when he parted from yours for air, “I missed you so damn much.”

It's not a common occurrence for the both of you to be away from each other. He was the Captain of Strike Hawk, and you had your own team. But to be away from the public eye, to be in some random corner of the streets, as your heavy breathing mingled with one another and your bodies touching, you remember that you couldn't be away from your lover far too long now.

“I missed you, Chrome, I missed you, too.” You could sob from the intensity of your situation, hands reaching for whatever part of him—his shoulders, his arms, his cheek— “Thank God, I can finally see you.”

“Me too,” Chrome breathes, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, “I couldn't wait any longer.”

“Do you still have more appointments?”

“I do,” he groans, frustration evident on his pretty face, “I still have to meet a few more people...”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Chrome is the one who apologizes instead, starry eyed twinkling that made you frown instead.

It's always busy and no rest days. Apart from your lover being such a dependable leader, sometimes, your greed makes you want to steal him away. But alas, as you caress his cheek, the cool touch of his skin underneath your fingertips, it makes you lean onto him, lips kissing his jaw.

“[Y/N]...?”

“I missed your touch,” You admit, hands now on his cheeks, “I missed your face. I missed your hands, your kisses— I don't want to be away from you longer.”

Was it your position that somehow made you hot? Or was it the way Chrome leaned more into you, kisses reaching every inch of your face, to your chin, to your exposed jaw— you stifle a quiet moan, as Chrome nips at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, something that you've never touched before, something that was a step closer into your relationship.

“I am trying so hard not to overwhelm you, [Y/N]. I missed you so badly,” Chrome groans, “but finally seeing you, finally being able to touch you...I want to show you how much I missed you, but I'm afraid it'll be too much...”

“Don't stop,” Boldly, you proclaimed, hands running through his hair, disrupting it into a messy one, “Let's go home, Chrome. Show me how much you've missed me, and I'll show you mine.”

Pulling away so slightly, Chrome's turquoise irises reflecting a darker shade amidst the light from the crack of the corner. In between those eyes and your pending responsibilities, you already made your decision. As you feel Chrome's hold on your hips, you pressed your lips to him.

“I hope you'll stay true to that offer, [Y/N].”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Wanshi: Hypnos

Kissing Wanshi is dreamy.

In the tender tones of daylight, the artificial sun bleeding into your skin. There are too many touches all at once, but neither the two of you bother to pull away. Wanshi's lips find your skin without a hassle, humming when you swallow your laughs. He's everywhere— your hand, your arm, your shoulder, the dip of your breasts, your clavicle— everywhere but your face.

“Wanshi,” you purred, never bothering to open your eyes, “you're so needy...”

“Hush, let me dream a bit longer,” your lover sighs in your neck, nibbling your skin, “it's not everyday I get to kiss you like this.”

“We'll both be late at this point. Didn't you say Captain Chrome warned you already?”

“He already put those rules before,” he pauses, yawning, arms now wrapped possessively around your waist, “I'm exempted.”

“I won't be surprised if you get to be deprived of your capsule for another week...”

“Hey, this is about us today,” he murmurs, lightly kissing the side of your neck, “I don't want to hear another man's name in our bed...”

Your lover never learns. But still, you couldn't help but laugh at his antics. It's his problem anyways, not yours. As you giggle, your hand finds itself cupping Wanshi's soft cheeks, squeezing it.

“Wanshi, darling, we really need to get up soon. I also have work.”

You could feel Wanshi pouting against your skin. Without a warning, he gets on top of you, golden eyes looking at you. “Five minutes. Give me five more minutes, and I'll let you go.”

As you were about to ask what he meant, Wanshi leans down to capture your lips with his. You squeak from surprise, but in the end, you couldn't help but submit to his whims. His soft lips, the love that permeates from him, slipping in so deeply into you as you felt yourself buried deeper into the sheets. Your hand finds his, intertwining as he leads it above your head. Forget your job, forget that it's another shitty work day; it's only you and Wanshi, in your bed, and his dreamy kisses.

You love Wanshi, and you'd always pick him, despite his sleepy circumstances, despite everything else.

“Mm...Wanshi, give me more than five minutes.” You mutter, letting your legs wrap around his waist, pressing into him.

“Oh?”

“Yes, nngh, you win this time. Now, give me more kisses.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Kamui: Tenebrion

Kissing Kamui is like catching the sun in both hands.

More like a surprise; playful shouting as he wins another round of your favorite game, leaving you dumbfounded in your chair. You love your man so much that you'd rather see him with that goofy smile on his face. But sometimes, some victories feel like they are being rubbed hard on your face.

“Haha! This is the third time now!”

“Alright, alright,” you shrug, placing the controller down, watching Kamui lead out of his seat, “You win.”

“Does this mean I get to have the seat for a week?”

“A month, too, if you want,” you shrug again, “Congratulations, Kamui.”

It's his playful character that made you fall for him in the first place— a unique laughter, the way his eyes crinkled with delight, how Kamui's feet would curl. But unbeknownst to him, however, you had another trick on your sleeve.

“Time for a free round!”

“No, thank you,” you flutter your eyes at him, “I'd like to see you play for now. I might get you next time if I watch your movements.”

Kamui laughs instead, making your stomach jump, “Babe, just watch, then. But I'm sure that I'll win again like always.”

As Kamui positions, your plan goes into play. He won't win against you, the real mastermind of the game.

Kamui's eyes glimmer as he focuses intently on the game. Somehow, in the middle of scoring another new record, his mind lands on you.

“[Y/N]? You seem qui-”

When he turns his head, he is met with a surprise kiss on his lips. Kissing Kamui always felt like reaching for the sun in your hands, especially this way: the surprised sound from his lips when they met yours, the softest yet so hot as he absentmindedly drops his console, reaching to hold you; Kamui doesn't hesitate to kiss you back with the same intensity��� tongue tasting his favorite drink on yours, the smell of your perfume, and the dizzying heat when he refuses the pull away, in spite of your little plan.

You squeak when Kamui gently pushes you onto the sofa, him breaking away to find your saliva strung together on both of your lips. The game plays in the background, forgotten as Kamui straddles you. Looking back at his glinting eyes, you seem to miss this in your equation.

“Really, [Y/N]?”

“Y-you didn't have to- I-I thought you'd-”

“Tsk, tsk,” Kamui laughs, thumb caressing your swollen lips, “[Y/N], you already knew I'd let you win. I guess you'll be getting your present early, then~”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Camu: Crocotta

Kissing Camu is like snow on the beach.

So rare, so sudden. It's the rumble of the vending machine of some unknown brand, dropping a new kind of food. Was it edible?

“So they really did put up these things.”

It's the low sound of Camu's husky voice surprising you on a random sunny afternoon. You quickly pick up the food, presenting it in front of him, “Do you mean this?”

Camu takes the food from your hand. It's a cake in a can, you presume, as it is written boldly on the cover. Squinting his eyes, Camu effortlessly tears off the lid without the use of the safety pin. At this point, such a scenario no longer surprises you.

“A cake in the can?”

“A cake in the can.” Camu affirms, giving it back to you, “It was a staple for the Japanese vending machines back in the Golden Age.”

The little treat (although forced open) seemed cute. Using the spoon provided, you took a few bites. Immediately, a yummy flavor pours into your mouth, making you squeal with joy. You quickly taste more.

“Mmh! It's so sweet~!”

“Yeah, they're usually really sweet.”

Taking a large spoonful, you hold it out to Camu. “Would you like some?”

Hesitant. Camu looks at you, somehow judging you (do you usually hold out food to random people?), yet cautiously leans down to your height. His eyes never leave yours as he takes a bite, even until he gulps it down. Your eyes twinkle as you notice your joy reflected in his, signaling the sweet taste of the dessert.

“What do you think?”

“...it is very sweet.”

“I really want to eat more of this~” you grin, “let me order-”

Camu holds your shoulder, causing you to stop. When you turned to look back at him, focused dark eyes looked at you.

“Wait.”

Camu leans forward, his face inches away from yours. As you feel your temperature grow higher, you only notice Camu's thumb caress the corner of your mouth.

“...you had a bit of cream there.”

Did you only notice Camu's handsomeness just now? Or was it because of the close proximity? His breath is cool on your lips, pretty dark eyes devoid of any harshness that he usually portrays, yet the subtle softness of his features somehow made him look more handsome up close. It makes you want to kiss him.

“I'm sorry?”

Snapping out of your reverie, you blink at him, “Huh?”

“You said you wanted to kiss me.”

Crap. You and your thoughts! You groan, trying to mask your reddening embarrassment, “Ah, Camu, I'm so sorry, I didn't-”

But Camu closes the gap anyways. It catches you off guard at first, but his kiss is cool and warm at the same time, almost felt like bathing in the sea amidst the snow. You taste the sweet cake on his lips, the smell of peppermint invading your senses. It is only a short while, ending as fast as it started. When he pulls away, you find dark eyes reflecting your emotion: curiosity.

“...ah-!”

“Technically, we indirectly kissed already.”

Camu points at the spoon, realization dawning on you. You squeak, trying to assess more of the situation. But Camu, with a small smile on his lips despite the deepening blush on his cheeks, coughs, “...I guess it's time for me to ask you out later during the Valentine's event, then.”

You were about to ask what the deal was about, until your mind whirred back to his initial words.

“I thought you don't like Valentine's?”

“I don't like Valentines.” He said.

“So why...?”

Camu, turning away from you, before looking back with a smile on his face, “I like you, obviously.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Watanabe: Epitaph

Kissing Watanabe is always a surprise.

It's when you least expected it. From the sudden kisses in front of children, to meet ups in the warehouse, and even in random times of the day. Watanabe would always keep surprising you, you almost think it's a routine at this point (God Bless your heart; hopefully his antics won't kill you before your fated day).

However, lately, it's almost not happening.

“Hello, [Y/N],” your lover greets you as he passes by, opting to continue talking to the man beside him. You retract your expectant hands.

“Watch out, [Y/N].” Watanabe calmly catches you by your hips, when a child nearly hits you with the ball. You wanted to reach out, but he was already walking away.

“I'll be taking that.” And gone was the playful kiss on your shoulder, instead, it was a smile on his lips as he took the supplies and left you in the dark. What the hell was going on?

On a random evening, he started to avoid you on purpose.

“Watanabe!” You cried out as you watched him disappear from the sea of people.

It was the nth time of you trying to track him down that day. Tired from running around, you slump against the wall, tears filling your eyes. Your tears began to escape your eyes as the atmosphere around you, despite it being Valentine's, was full of love and laughter.

What did you do wrong? Watanabe is your lover, one you've long promised to be with forever. But what was forever if he no longer looked at your way?

“Miss [Y/N]?”

Sniffling away your tears, you looked up to see one of the Forsaken soldiers. “Y-yes?”

“...are you alright?”

“Y-yes, yes,” you were not, but you still stood up, facing the soldier, “What do you need?”

“Could you kindly come with me to the warehouse? I need someone to inspect the weapons before we head out tomorrow.”

Wordlessly, you follow the construct. Your mind swims in a hazy sea of doubts and self depreciation. Should you leave this place? Go back to Babylonia? You are still welcome there, last time you checked. But the people...

It didn't take a while before you both arrived at the destination. Stepping inside the dark warehouse, you failed to notice that the door behind you closed. As you ran to pry it open, from the corner of your eyes, you saw a lone light shine in the middle of the dark warehouse.

It's Watanabe.

All of your anger rushes to your brain. Your legs move quicker, however, sprinting to reach out to the estranged man.

“You selfish little-”

“[Y/N]-”

Anything Watanabe says is fast, but your reflexes are faster. You held onto his arms, your tears of anger flowing as you cried out.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I know, I know-”

“Do you know how sad and angry I am at you? For leaving me with no answers?”

Watanabe does not answer. He lets you speak.

“Why? What did I do wrong? Why are you ignoring me?”

“I am aware, yes.” He answers, sorrowful, “I am sorry for treating you that way, [Y/N]. I know I shouldn't have done that, but my actions hurt you instead.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Watanabe doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches out to cup your cheeks, genuine sadness reflecting in his expression.

“I have been thinking. And I made up my mind.”

He caresses your cheeks with such reverence, it almost makes you melt. “...being away from you is so cruel. I wanted to make such a heavy decision, to leave you so you could be with another human, but I realized that I was just like you— I would be angry, too.”

Watanabe leans down, your forehead touching, “I want to be greedy for you, [Y/N]. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Suddenly, you were aware of the weight of your words from earlier. You weren't mad; you were devastated. Should this man, the love of your life, leave you, what becomes of you, then?

“Watanabe...”

You tug on his collar, whispering, “Don't go. Kiss me, please.”

Kissing Watanabe really is a surprise. It's fulfilling, in a way that completes you like a puzzle, his warm lips on yours. You love him just as much as he loves you, perhaps more— it's agonizing, it's too much, yet you crave for him; he is all you have. When he reluctantly pulls away, he whispers your name.

The lights of the warehouse turn on. And behind him, a dazzling display of flowers and pictures are shown.

“What-”

“I know it's not much, unlike the luxuries in Babylonia,” Watanabe kneels down, the glittering stone on the engraved jewelry in his hand, “But this is all from every corner of my heart; I love you, my [Y/N]. Please accept my proposal.”

You couldn't hold your tears anymore— from anger, they turned into immense joy. The answer has long been spoken.

“Marry me, my [Y/N].”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Noan: Arca

Kissing Noan is sweet.

Little kisses and noises of joy as you take breaks in between your book reading. It's his warm hand on top of yours, the other busy flipping through the pages. Noan's voice is a soothing lullaby, a gentle lull as he reads the passages for you.

“It's quite ironic,” Noan breaks away from the book, putting it aside as he brushes away the hair covering your face, “I thought you wanted me to read to you.”

There you were, comfortably laying on his lap, watching him with tired eyes. Slightly pouting, you weakly tugged on his scarf, “Noan, why did you stop...”

“My lap isn't very comfortable to sleep in. Let's move you back to your base.”

“Nooo,” you stubbornly shook your head, trying not to let Noan stand, “Finish reading the book, please? You're almost at the exciting part...”

Sighing, Noan picks up the book. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, one of the books that caught Noan's attention. Driven by your immense curiosity and how Noan was itching to read the story, judging by its summary, you thought it was a nice idea to let him read to you. It's hitting two birds with one stone!

“I don't get how you're so interested in the book,” Noan asks, flipping back to the page where he left, “You're already falling asleep.”

You don't have the heart to tell him you've already read it while you were still in the F.O.S. “Well, I think the concept is neat.”

“The concept of a man who has the body parts of dead people off killing people just to appease his creator?”

You shrugged, “I mean...”

Noan laughs, fingers idly drifting and drawing circles on your cheek, “Just tell me that you're just doing this because you think that I'm interested in it.”

“Are you not?” You turned to catch brown eyes looking at you with mirth.

“In a way, yeah.”

You pondered for a bit, trying to remember the contents of the book. Lifting your hand to cup Noan's cheeks, you huffed, “Y'know, you remind me a bit of the monster.”

Quickly catching yourself with your words (to which Noan laughs), “I mean, minus the killing. Wait, no, I mean-”

“Okay, okay, something related to that?”

“Yes, that.” You grinned, “the monster wasn't supposed to mean any harm. He simply wanted the attention and love from his creator.”

Your lover, in a way, was similar to the monster of the book. Rebuilt and revived, nearly as a killing machine. But does a killing machine have to look this beautiful in the hazy afternoon glow? Noan's lips parted for a bit, before pursing them. Lifting your head, you snuck in a short kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“You're similar yet different from the monster, Noan.” You murmured, closing your eyes as you inhaled his smell, “Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin.”

Noan chuckles, lightly squeezing your cheeks, “and you tell me you've never read the book before-”

“I didn't disagree, didn't I?”

“Hmm...”

“Noan,” you whispered, “Unlike Frankenstein's story, you are never feared, nor despised.”

You kissed Noan. It's sweet— the taste of the cookies you gave, the herbal tea; his lips that were made to kiss yours, to fit; and Noan, who went through too much, was yours to protect forevermore.

“You are loved, even more than your creator.”

When you pull away, deep red tinted his cheeks and ears, which made you laugh. “Well, Noan?”

“Mm...I should stop reading the book since you already know-”

“Keep going, please?” You purred, “I like you reading to me.”

“...mh, fine, you're lucky I like you.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Roland: Flambeau

Kissing Roland is, well, comedic.

He's laughing; the crescendo plays a melodic tune, as he plays his role. Your lover is a clown at this point, laughing manically with every step he takes.

But you love him anyway. You love your clown.

“Roland, dear,” you giggle, “Remind me again what's my role?”

He pauses, before approaching you. “Mi amor,” Roland reaches out to your hand, kissing it, “You are the lead of this play!”

As he continues to play his role, you are sitting in front of him, on a fancy chair. For Valentine's, you half-expected Roland to join the theatre, however, he was here in front of you— with only you as the audience and apparently the lead as well.

“What do I do?”

“Sit prettily there,” Roland winks, “That's your role.”

“Alright. Do I still get compensated?”

“Hush, the climax of this story is now nearly in full bloom.”

With a crisp spin, Roland turns to face you, the spotlight hitting every nice angle he had. In his hand, a single, beautifully blooming rose.

“Mi amor, my love, my light,” Roland began his monologue, “Though it has been a very long journey and story, here we are, still alive.”

Ah, you realized this scene now. The first proper confession.

Roland walks to you, despite his clownish appearance, he genuinely had a sweet smile on his face. “Damned by those who defy our circumstances; from this day forward, I am yours, as much as you are mine.”

He looks at you, with gentle hands holding your cheek, “What do you say, mi amor?”

In the original story, you ran away out of fear. But you were in a new scenario with him now. Smiling, you dragged him to you with his shirt, “Hmm, sounds missing.”

You wink at Roland, “Ah, I know now.”

Without a warning, you closed the gap in between your lips. Roland eases into you easily; grasping at hands, responding to your move. It's still soft, his lips that make you dream of oceans and theatre plays— it makes you want more.

But Roland pulls away, chuckling, “Well, that certainly wasn't part of the script.”

“You kept missing the cues,” you stuck your tongue out, “I merely filled in the gaps.”

“That's my girl,” Roland praises, “My perfect muse, my perfect actress.”

Comedic, in a way that it's the perfect timing. You leaned further to kiss him more.

“Mm, I still have a few ideas you can add to your script.”

Roland's hand in your hips tightened, mirroring your smile, “Do tell, we should execute it afterwards.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Noctis: Indomitus

Kissing Noctis is wild.

In how he holds you effortlessly in one hand. You grasp where your hands could reach, but you could only breathe in. In how Noctis's voice sends shivers. A melody that echoes so long.

His lips are begging to be with you. It's almost painful.

“[Y/N], [Y/N],” Noctis whines, “Please, let me touch you.”

“We are in a public area, Noctis,” you whisper, aware of his creeping fingers on your pants, “Mmh, it's not just me...”

Your lover was supposed to be a grown man, but who knew his neediness could make him such a needy child?

“Please, please, I promise it won't take long,” He groaned as his fingers rubbed your thighs, “I'll be very quick.”

Sighing, you try to look around you. Making sure that no one else could see, you pulled Noctis closer, lips mere inches away from one another.

“Be quick, okay?”

And you trust Noctis. Kissing him is wild— as if asking to be breathed back to life, he kisses you with such fervor. Never minding touchy hands, it's so hot that you unconsciously opened the buttons on your shirt. Noctis loves hard and harder, the beating of his heart a testament. His tongue on yours, hands everywhere else.

“Thank you,” he cries out, making you throb, “I owe you so much...”

“How about pushing it past my limits today, Noctis?”

Without a word, Noctis slips into you for one more stolen kiss. “You have my word, then, [Y/N].”

Writing this half asleep HAHAHAHAHSHSHA

— starry

[ghawst37]

Cookie.

[slaughterlmao]

[disonad]

[narzissenkreuz-ordo]

this man is so wife material and no one else sees my vision........

[unhappy-last-resort]

Vampire Drabble

Fandom: Punishing: Gray Raven

Warnings: Yandere, forced blood sucking (?), angst, lmk if I missed any

Word Count: 768

A/N: I initially had another fic planned for Halloween but it's grown into something too large to cram while also trying to keep up with what I'm already scheduled to write.

This can be read as either Chrome or Roland.

Crimson is not his favorite color. It's a blossom he'd seen more times than he'd prefer, a condemnation to both those he loved and himself. It was a reminder of what he'd done, and what he'd failed to stop.

He hated silver, the color that hung in the sky that now served as his sun and the little glittering specks surrounding it that looked down upon the Earth he tread with cold disdain.

He hated iron, the rustic scent that seemed to always be in his nostrils, the slick liquid that coated his tongue every night and poured down his throat…

—and what dragged him to your door, breath ragged, nails curled into claws, and throat dry with a thirst that wanted more than just the life that flowed in your veins. He can still remember when he first met— no, you didn't meet, he merely saw you, smelled the traces of your home on your figure, and heard your vocal cords string a song that's made him weak in his knees ever since.

It's humilating, how he's found himself crumpled on your doorstep, shaking with trepidation as he warred within himself. Should he call to you? Prey on your good will to let him in just a little closer? Should he control himself and rip away from your homestead and find some poor, hapless, livestock to drain?

Let's not pretend.

He takes a breath, his lips parting slowly to let the most pained, desperate sounding cry he can muster. "H-hello? Is anyone home? I'm injured!" He waits, listening as he wets his dried lips.

He can hear your sheets rustling further inside. If he had to guess, your room must be the second. He knocks at your door haphazardly, hoping to curate a sense of urgency. "Please! If anyone's there, please help me!"

Success. He could hear your quickened steps patter out from your bedroom to right in front of him, your fingers fumbling with the lock as digs his nails into his shoulder, tearing through the flesh until the familiar chill of his blood gushes over skin.

He hates the color crimson, but he can't deny its usefulness sometimes.

The door swings open and he falls forward, hands catching him at your feet as he hears you gasp above him. Panic laces your voice as you stumble, muttering a mix of "are you okay" and "what happened" as you awkwardly half-crouch in front of him, unsure if you should come closer or keep your distance.

Just a little more.

"Ow! Please…This— this really hurts, if you could—"

Of course, you respond beautifully. Gently pulling him up and leading him to the kitchen, your soft hands are so warm it almost burns him, almost makes him want to recoil from you and retreat back to the cold and dark where he belongs and not the warmth of your home, not the kindness that lurked in the corners of the room.

Almost.

You rush off to find wherever you keep medical supplies and he contents himself with listening to your heart beat and your little, puffed breaths as you rummage through the cabinet.

It's a mistake, on your part. To have your back turned to someone— something you don't know.

It would be so easy for someone to just…

Come up behind you.

You thrashed a bit— or tried to, anyway. It felt a bit like holding a mouse and watching it fruitlessly try to wriggle and nibble its way to freedom. Soft, cute, and precious.

He held you tight, arms wrapping around you in something between comfort and confinement as eyed your neck. Should he start with a kiss, or leave that for later?

Perhaps later, you're starting to cry and he doesn't need to drag out am already traumatic event for you.

You seem to know what this is all about before his breath even grazes your throat, you jerk away and shout, beg, for him to stop or someone to help, so he whispers apologies to you.

He would be lying if he didn't say that a part of him enjoyed your sudden stillness as his teeth pressed into your flesh and your blood oozed eagerly. That he didn't hold you a little tighter at your muffled squeak as you froze into place, that he didn't memorize the taste of your iron that he'll hate tomorrow.

Maybe one day you can forgive him for the marks left on your neck, and maybe one day he can forgive himself for craving you more than anything in the world, even more than his disgust of himself.

[goshushin]

roland ->>>>> skk (ocskk) +extra under cut

[orukadoruka]

🤏

[valsshadow]

i may or may not have fallen in love with pgr wallpapers again. anyways heres more

[morninglight07]

The sillies :D