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Yandere TYL Sawada Tsunayoshi

🔥Tsunayoshi as the Vongola Decimo is definitely a heck lot more comfortable as well as confident in himself as well as in controlling his obsessive behavior which he probably wouldn’t have been able to hide as good as he can do now. His mind has matured over the years and he is certainly lucid of the way he is feeling for you but instead of having a hysterical and ashamed reaction of it as his younger self might have been, Tsuna is now able to hide everything beneath the surface to a much better degree. That obviously doesn’t take away from the fact that he is still feeling reluctant as he is aware that his position could bring you in potential danger if someone should decide to target you and use you as a bait. The part of him that just feels guilty for simply being so obsessed has probably shrunken considerably over the years where he has grown somewhat accepting of the fact his obsession won’t get away.

🔥That doesn’t mean that he has thrown away all of his morals though because there are still rights Tsunayoshi honors and methods he doesn’t accept. Just because he has accepted his role as the next Vongola head doesn’t mean that he has completely fallen. Instead he is prioritizing your safety and comfort. There are unfortunately just some things he can’t get around without using his influence but it is a small evil in exchange for your greater good. So there might be some of his men, especially some of his Guardians like Gokudera or Yamamoto, stationed around your neighborhood to keep an eye on you and he might even let his men secretively follow you around town if there is a reason to be alarmed but such occasional things are sadly just necessary at times. It’s not like he is keeping a constant surveillance on you but you have to bear with a slice of his overprotective tendencies in exchange for a relatively normal life and relationship.

🔥He’s grown out of the time where he was constantly doubting himself and as a result he has stopped being the slightly nervous mess he used to be whenever he saw you speaking to someone he didn’t know. Tsunayoshi now doesn’t have any reasons to question anything unless he has a valid reason for it. Honestly, considering his power he now has it would be quite easy to get hold of any information he desires if he orders it but this isn’t his way of doing things. He is much more merciful and sympathetic in comparison to some of his own Guardians. Which doesn’t imply that he will just sit back and do nothing if someone really likes you as he has long learned to accept that he wouldn’t do well if he would try to let you go despite his obsession. If push comes to shove he will step up with a polite yet firm and controlled exterior to stop any admirer from trying their luck with you.

🔥Once again this man finds himself in a position where he could easily get rid of someone and cover any traces that would lead back to his organization. Tsunayoshi is an exceptionally kind individual though and is very much against involving innocent people in anything. He isn’t impulsive and would never consider harming someone just because they like you a bit too much. A lot of threats and warnings are always handed out to other people in most cases where Tsunayoshi never directly tells anyone who he really is but lets them know enough to know that they shouldn’t try to mess with him. He’s very tactical and experienced in battles and strategic planning by now and uses those abilities to his best to never let any situation escalate. There are probably some instances though where his responsibilities or his own obsession don’t allow him to keep someone alive though in which case he has to execute his duties and live silently with the guilt afterwards.

🔥Despite some small hindrances and restrictions that I mentioned earlier, you have probably more freedom with the Vongola Decimo than you would have if some of his own Guardians would be the ones obsessed with you. Tsunayoshi is adamant to interfere with your life as little as possible and to not abuse any of the power he has by now obtained. If any danger appears though, there will be according measurements to counter those threats. Tsunayoshi is efficient in his planning and his actions in an emergency situation and even if it is a reluctant choice, he can and will get a lot more controlling and will make a lot of choices for you in such a scenario. He knows that you aren’t thrilled in the least about it but he’s asking you to bear with it for the time being until he has solved the issue.

Khr Hc’s

Lambo Bovino (10 Years Later)

🐮​There is nothing quite like seeing Lambo age throughout the years as he turns from a demanding and spoiled child to a true lady's man, though he is still prone to reverting to his crybaby personality. The thing about Lambo now though is that he actually knows how to approach someone he finds attractive and that is quite useful for him the moment he develops an obsession with you. With an increased amount of awareness that he has earned over the years he is actually lucid of his obsession and is even tactful enough to decide that it would be wiser to not let you know about that for now. That is a problem for future Lambo for when you do find out eventually but it isn't something he should worry about too much in the present. He has had a lot of experience at this point already with receiving affection from other people, mainly women who swoon over him, and it is this experience that actually helps him to get successfully closer to you as he knows how to charm his darling with sweet words and gestures.

🐮​Despite the lazy demeanor that he often carries around with him Lambo actually pays close attention to you. His feelings are serious after all so it is in his interest to get to know you better and it is this attentive behavior that earns him a lot of points with you. After all it is very flattering to experience that he notices it when you wear new clothes or have a new haircut. Sometimes he still reverts back to the childish antics he often exhibited during his childhood, especially if he is upset or scared. It is a stark, and admittedly jarring, contrast to what you are used to, especially since he seeks you out for comfort afterwards. In such moments he is clingy and demanding, unwilling for you to leave him alone as he cries tears. You may have pity on him whilst he is in such a condition which he might use to his advantage or you might just find him annoying and plan to leave him alone which honestly only makes things worse as he would wind up crying only more when figuring out that you plan to leave him alone.

🐮​Jealousy is one possible emotion that can make him upset and reduce him to a crying mess. Luckily there is some time you have before it gets that far as Lambo figures that he doesn't help his image by letting you see him as a bawling and sniffling mess. He ends up digging his own grave more than just once though as he never rejects invitations when he is being invited to parties and he takes you in most cases with him which means that he lets you be surrounded by lots of other people. He doesn't mind if you socialise with others, he isn't that needy and insecure after all. What tends to get under his skin quickly though is when you start complimenting other people or gushing over them excessively whilst he is right next to you. He starts tugging nervously at his collar as the atmosphere turns quickly uncomfortable whilst he tries to save his face and slowly guide you away. If worst comes to worst though you are left with him sobbing and throwing a tantrum all whilst clinging to you.

🐮​In actual fights Lambo has grown a lot more dependent but he still needs another 10 years before he is completely unfaced. Still though, he will defend his darling or at the very least run away with them to ensure their protection if he realises that he is being overwhelmed in a fight. In preparation to hopefully never embarrass himself in front of you by running away from an opponent though Lambo is surprisingly thorough to ensure that you are well protected so that hopefully a situation will never even escalate that far. Being one of the ring bearers for Vongola brings its advantages after all which means that he is able to keep tabs on you and place you under special protection. During fights he'd probably have to ensure that you are not anywhere within his vicinity since he is not yet in full control of his powers and wouldn't want to accidentally hurt you with his electricity. I don't think that he has yet fully gotten the needed willpower to take someone's life, that is going to need another 10 years.

🐮​A certain amount of protection is going to be needed considering that he is the Lightning Guardian yet Lambo does ensure that there won't be any grand restrictions within your overall daily life. He can't let you walk around completely unprotected either though but he is actually able to reason pretty well with you as he explains the situation to you. Some small sacrifices have to be made but otherwise he promises you that you can go on with your life however you wish to do. In case of an emergency you will have to be escorted away though, especially if your identity is leaked to potential enemies of Vongola. That is probably the closest you will get to an abduction with this Lambo though even if this might already be a scary and equally upsetting experience. You're most likely going to be kept under tighter security from that day on, may even spend a longer time in their headquarters until the risk has been removed or until Lambo has regained his shaken composure which may take a while, especially if you were hurt or got dangerously close to being injured.

🐮​At times it feels like you are dealing with two different people. Sometimes Lambo is the more rational one in situations who acts for the most part calm and mature and in other moments you have to baby him as he loses his composure and starts seeking protection from you. You receive a ton of different gifts from him, he is especially fond of gifting you clothes he believes would make you look even prettier than you already are. Honestly, the relationship works pretty well as he flies very well under the radar due to his largely serious and calm attitude but the problem appears the moment his composure is stripped away from him and he is reduced to a crying and frightened mess. He knows that it's pathetic but he hasn't worked out just yet how to stop acting like a crybaby and if you were to be appalled by this clingy and unbearable part of his personality Lambo may grow more desperate and would in return be more prone to burst out in a tantrum in front of you.

Rokudo Mukuro

🌫️​From his respective verse Mukuro is honestly one of the worst choices one could end up with. He's cruel, manipulative, apathetic, controlling and incredibly possessive of his darling. He owns you and for that he is free to do with you whatever he wishes to do and you can either give in and accept that or try to rebel, entertain him a bit before he punishes you and then slowly breaks you apart. It's no secret that he has a sadistic side to him and whilst he may claim that neither one of you enjoys it when he has to punish you for throwing a tantrum, you know better than to believe his words if the gleam in his eyes is anything to go by. The only small blessing that you have that Mukuro treats punishments very much like reprimanding a disobedient dog. As soon as he believes that you have learned your lesson he will stop tormenting you, though he won't be the one who will directly take care of you afterwards as he instead asks Chrome, Ken or Chikusa to cater to your basic needs afterwards whilst he observes from a distance.

🌫️​He can really get into your head. He's perceptive, he has done his research on you and to make things even worse he is a talented illusionist. It is terrifying to be within his presence as he notices every twitch of your fingers and every subtle move of your body, there is really only little that you can hide from him. He's scheming, he knows how to shut you up with a few simple words and he knows what spots he has to target to threaten you to burst out into tears and all of that whilst not even raising his voice once. There is this air of superiority and intimidation that he always carries around with him and Mukuro has no plans to lessen the fear you have whenever you hear as much as his name. He wants and needs that level of control above you. He's a terrible person and he has embraced that already long ago so he sees no need to play pretend with you. You're going to see the real him and you will fear and adore him equally for it the longer time passes and the more he starts messing with your mind.

🌫️​He is possessive, not jealous. He'd like for you or anyone else to not even dare to associate such a pitiful feeling with him as he sees himself above it. He is above it. Loyalty and obedience are after all two things he expects from you whether he is currently spending time with you or is taking care of business which leaves you a little room to breathe as his mere presence is enough to often make the act of breathing normally a task incredibly difficult. You would be sorely mistaken to believe that just because he is gone you can sneak away and meet people you haven't seen in months due to the isolation he puts you through. Just remember that Mukuro always finds out the truth and you would only get yourself in more troubles if you were to lie to his face in the naive hope that he wouldn't see right through you. Do you just enjoy being punished by him? If so you could have just asked him kindly instead of getting other people involved. Begging and apologising won't work on him as you plead to leave innocent people out of it. After all both sides have to learn a lesson, wouldn't you agree?

🌫️​Whilst he has no qualms Mukuro is actually not someone who actively gets his own hands dirty. He is the type who lets others do the dirty work for him as he often sends out Ken or Chikusa to do the crude part for him. He does get heavily involved in scheming plans or messing with the mind of other people. He doesn't even spare those who have done nothing wrong besides interacting with you when you were trying to escape or family and friends who you just wished to talk to without his permission. He wouldn't kill them but the illusions and threats that he puts them through have an even worse effect as he essentially turns them against you, installs fear into their hearts so that they won't humor your futile hopes the next time you attempt to reach out to them. His skills of possessing people and playing around with their mind are some of the most frightening abilities to have since he can torment their very sanity and souls, a method he thinks is much more entertaining than simply putting a bullet through someone's head as he can allow himself the time to even take it slow, basking in his sadism.

🌫️​Isn't it only natural to keep a priced possession to yourself? To Mukuro it is and it is his possessive attributes that wind up isolating you from everyone and everything you used to know and love. You are kept in a building, locked away for the rest of your life all whilst Mukuro continues roaming around freely. It is honestly painful to know that he doesn't even bother spending much time with you as he often vaguely informs you that he has other important things he needs to take care of, never telling you what it is he needs to do. Whether it is out of convenience or actual consideration from Mukuro's part, you aren't left completely to your own devices. Chrome is there, Ken is there and Chikusa is there as well, meaning you at least have some company. All of them are only an upgrade from Mukuro's terrifying personality yet none of them would ever help you to escape as all of them are loyal to Mukuro and even try to warn you of the consequences that were to happen if you would attempt to run away.

🌫️​Sometimes you feel like Mukuro doesn't really care about you at all if he is gone for weeks without you hearing anything from him and even if Chrome tells you that he loves you in his own way you almost feel hurt. For what did he take you after all if he doesn't even "love" you? Admittedly, if you happen to be someone who is a naturally very affectionate person and longs to receive lots of affection as well Mukuro would be the worst choice for you. He doesn't show any of the twisted love and the care he has for you easily to the point where you can't help but feel like he doesn't love you at all. He doesn't need to for as long as he has your obedience that is enough for him. Yet whenever he takes notice that you aren't doing well he mostly asks one of his subordinates to look out after you, specifically telling them what it is that they need to get for you before adding that he doesn't wish them to tell you that it was him who told them all of it. It is Chrome though who reveals that secret to you one day, assuring you that Mukuro is actually always watching over you when he returns.

Chrome Dokuro

🟣​Chrome has been severely neglected and mistreated before she was saved by Mukuro and it is this past that has led her to be socially very awkward, inexperienced and shy. For quite a long time she has only ever really clung to Mukuro or the people he associates himself with and it is for that reason that she is quite overwhelmed when she finds a person she herself is interested in without Mukuro being involved in even a tiny aspect. Having only ever relied on Mukuro though initially she tries to avoid you and forget about you simply because she almost views her fondness of you as some sort of betrayal for the man who saved her life. Her obsession though has already gotten out of hand and it certainly doesn't help that she can't even control her own emotions very well either due to her insecurities. You are always a persistent thought inside her head and she doesn't know what to do with you. She wants to get to know you, wants to talk to you but she simply doesn't know how to do it.

🟣​Too shy and even frightened to speak with you Chrome resorts to being nothing more than a stalker for the following months. It is all that she seems to be able to do, watching you from a distance all whilst her own heart is doing sommersaults in her chest. She's still feeling conflicted though, torn apart between her loyalty to Mukuro and her newfound fondness for you. It feels like she is doing something terribly wrong which is why she attempts to hide what she is secretly doing from Ken, Chikusa and even Mukuro himself. She should have expected though that the Mist Guardian has already known about her little obsessive crush though but his disproval never happens as he instead encourages Chrome in his own subtle ways to follow her feelings, even trying to get her to be more assertive and controlling. It is only after she knows that Mukuro doesn't think of her new obsession as any threat or sign of disloyalty from her side that Chrome gains the needed courage to go for you herself.

🟣​Feelings of insecurities and a lack of self-esteem are problems Chrome finds herself fighting with even if she does want to get stronger on her own terms without having to depend on Mukuro. It is her clear inexperience though that makes her all the more awkward and insecure when she tries to get your attention all whilst you are busy talking to other people simply because she doesn't know what she should do or say to let you know of her current emotions. Chrome gets quite easily jealous though most of the time it isn't the kind of jealousy that you might expect. Chrome is just envious. Envious that other people can approach you as easily as they do all whilst she is a few feet away, her legs seemingly stuck to the ground as she stumbles over her own thoughts all whilst trying to come up with something to say to you. You will have to learn how to read her as she will most likely remain quiet despite her jealousy during the first few phases of the relationship until she eventually learns how to speak up and stand up for herself slowly.

🟣​Despite her connection with Mukuro she is not nearly as cruel or bad as he is though she is no saint either. She has a soft spot for people you care about and would never get them in harm's way as long as she knows that none of them are treating you badly. She doesn't hesitate to enter a battle either and she shares some powers with Mukuro, meaning that she is able to use illusions as well. Despite her shy and unsure appearance Chrome is actually willing to murder people but only if she deems them to be as too much of a risk if they were to be left alive for you. She loves you and whilst this realisation takes her a while to figure out she starts feeling a responsibility to protect you as soon as she has found out. Differently from Mukuro who is much more open with the cruel things he does, Chrome keeps very quiet about such things whenever they occur. She understands that you probably wouldn't react very well if she were to tell you that she murders people for you and assumes that for that you would appreciate it more if you would never find out at all.

🟣​She is still figuring things out. Emotions really are quite confusing, especially the love she is feeling for you. She longs to spend time with you but she is never able to shake off her habit to stalk you as her understanding of spending time with you seems to be that of her silently stalking you whilst you aren't even aware that she is there. People like Chikusa have already asked her why she isn't just trying to move in with you as he thinks that her behavior is quite pathetic yet Chrome gets much too nervous whilst considering moving in with her. She isn't used to such closeness and intimacy. It would be a new and unfamiliar experience and she tends to cling to what she knows and is familiar with, even if it isn't healthy. She does like your home though as she is familiar with it from her countless hours of stalking you. It's cozy and just so like you so she'd like to stay with you in there if she were to ever consider living with you. That's why you will always be brought back to your home though she does tell you that for that to happen you will have to follow certain rules and instructions or otherwise she might be forced to keep you somewhere else.

Black Widow s/o

Sawada Tsunayoshi

🔥​A spy. A danger. A potential threat that has to be disposed of. All opinions which not all but definitely some members of the mafia harbor when it comes to you. All worries which Tsuna is able to understand from their perspective. After all you are the woman who infiltrated the deepest ranks of the mafia and managed to fool almost everyone- and sadly that includes him. It's still unclear how much of it was you playing the part you needed to in order to gain your trust and how much of it was real. You wear your masks like others wear their skin as even he has troubles seeing through you. The fact remains that Tsunayoshi still loves you and wants to believe that you are more than others believe you to be. Some of his own guardians believe his emotions to cloud his judgement and perhaps that is true but the extent of his love goes further than most within the mafia may realise. Tsuna cannot afford to let you go. As you pose a threat to the organisation though he still has to take certain measurements to ensure that you leak no information out. So he finds himself locking you away with constant security on you as he will not underestimate your skills to escape.

🔥​Obviously he is hurt by the fact that you have played with his emotions. However, he refuses to believe that you didn't at least feel something for him too. Not because he is delusional but because he sometimes noticed the switch in your mask when you couldn't pretend for a moment. As a man with contacts and significant influence eventually he is able to get his hands on information on you. Most of it is fake as you have left false traces everywhere of identities you slipped into long before you sought out him. Only little of it is real but what few pieces are not fake are enough for Tsunayoshi to get a blurry picture of what you went through. Reborn might have been tough on him but comparing it to the training you went through makes it look like a childplay. You don't have to choose that path anymore. Despite the advice of some of his guardians he offers you a new life in the mafia. One where you do not have to stain your hands in blood anymore. It's a kind offer. Perhaps more kindness than you think you deserve after all you have done. It is only slightly tainted by the fact that you know that you will be kept by his side, either locked away or by being secretly watched over forever.

Gokudera Hayato

🧨Hayato is heartbroken when he finds out what your true identity really is. Despite his short fuse and explosive temper, he has been helplessly in love with you almost immediately from the moment he met you. Now he finds out that everything you ever told him has been a lie and even worse is that now there is the question of whether or not you used him to lure information out of him. Denial is the first stage of grief though and even with all of the evidence Tsunayoshi presents him with, he refuses to believe it. Yet he seeks you out almost immediately as rationality is thrown out of the window. He needs answers. He needs to hear it that even if everything else was a lie, your love for him wasn't. You've already been apprehended by the mafia though you appear as composed as ever and do not respond to interrogation. You deny, you lie and you show no sign of intimidation. Then Hayato approaches you though and just for a moment he imagines that there is a flicker of regret on your face before it all vanishes behind a perfectly neutral face. He's begging for you to tell him that at least what you two had wasn't just a game to you. You hesitate for a brief second before you tell him that you used him.

🧨His pride is in pieces. His heart even more. Hayato swears the first night alone that he won't ever see you again yet the next day he visits you in your cell- a fool unable to stay away. Most of the time he spends yelling at you. Then he begins to retell everything the both of you did as if still hoping that he will catch you in a lie. His affection has not diminished in the slightest though as he lashes out if someone talks badly about you or treats you cruelly. Still, he cannot trust you either as he is terrified of you using him to escape. Yet he still begs Tsunayoshi for mercy in regards to you and to his relief his old friend has no intention of murdering you in cold blood. Precisely because you expect it to happen. Hayato on the other hand spends sleepless nights going through files of many of your fake identities, trying to discern truth from lie. He visits you daily, dark bruises under his eyes from a lack of sleep yet still unable to go a day without visiting you. He doesn't believe that you're a bad person in spite of all the information he has about assassinations you are responsible for. He believes he can help you. He's going to help you. Perhaps his desperation is fuelling him to be delusional now.

Yamamoto Takeshi

💧​Technically both of you are supposed to be enemies as both of you are after the same thing. In fact you backstab him the moment you have fooled him into trusting you and he has let his guard down. The fight that follows takes energy out of the both of you. Yamamoto holds back though, taking more hits than inflicting them as he refuses to harm you. That optimism of his is going to get him killed as he is of the firm belief that you aren't just an assassin as you insist you are until he throws his katana away. It's foolish and naive and it would be too easy to put a bullet in his head right then and there. Only that the look in his eyes is just about enough to kill whatever is left of your heart. So instead you knock him merely out before you take what you came for and spare his life. Gokudera gives him hell for not only failing to retrieve the object but also for letting you go and allowing himself to be beaten up like this from you. Tsunayoshi seems to hold a quiet understanding though, perhaps because he deep down knows that Yamamoto has developed feelings for you during the undercover mission. Convinced that you have been forced into a life you do not wish for, he starts searching for you.

💧​It's far from easy of course. Catching you is like trying to chase after smoke. Almost impossible to catch and if he wouldn't be such a stubborn and persistent man and you wouldn't have secretly developed a soft spot for him, you would have been able to evade him for longer. Yet you let him catch you as you are still unable to understand how he could have thrown his sword willingly away during a fight even though he didn't know whether or not you would spare him or not. In fact you insult him for being so naive and trusting as you wouldn't trust yourself. Takeshi though believes in the good of you and he believes that he can help. His suspicion that deep down you do not wish to be used as a weapon anymore and kill people even though you have been trained to do so is correct. If you ever admit that to him though, he is going to develop a foolish savior complex which is going to lead him down a path of chasing after you and trying to save you from those who command you as well as yourself. He's pushing too hard and trusts you too much. All of it deep down overwhelms you as you genuinely start to fear he'll wind up dead all because he wants to help you.

Hibari Kyoya

🐤​Solitary and fiercely independent by nature, your betrayal is the closest thing to a heartbreak that Kyoya has ever felt. Getting close to him proves to be difficult and fooling him is something he has up until now believed to be impossible. Yet you seduced him, played him for a fool and actually managed to outsmart him when he found out that you stole important information from the mafia. He's adamant when he orders Tsunayoshi and all other guardiand to stay away from you. If there is going to be someone who is going to punish you, it is going to be him and no one else. So Kyoya embarks on a journey as he tries to track you down. It's a hunt that takes him all over the world yet you constantly manage to escape his grip, only adding to his silent fury. Worst of all is that despite you having made an idiot out of him, a part of him still loves you. As much as he tries to ignore those feelings, they refuse to die and so he always hesitates when he considers what to do with you the moment he catches you. He despises that he admires you as he acknowledges you as a strong opponent he needs to fight. Eventually he arrives at the conclusion that he is going to tame you though.

🐤​Whenever he does manage to catch up to you, he immediately attacks you. Both of you constantly clash. Bullets fly, kicks and punches are distributed and he mercilessly attacks you with his Tonfas and is everything but happy when you manage to steal them from him in the middle of a fight and wield them expertly. He doesn't go easy on you and neither do you. Bruises litter his skin after every fight as he ignores the broken ribs and shot wounds he received. He refuses to elaborate what happened even when he begrudgingly seeks medical help but after each fight that always ends in a draw with you managing to run away again, he only gets more brutal the next time. Deep down Kyoya is almost thrilled nowadays. The chase excites him and he looks forward to fighting you the next time. He trains harder, he analyses your fight patterns and he actually starts thinking before attacking. His original goal hasn't changed though. One day he will have full domination over you. He hates the people who have control over you whilst seeking the same thing- controlling you. He recognises that it won't be easy but he won't back down either. You will obey and pay for the humiliation you put him through.

Rokudo Mukuro

🌫️​Mukuro initially isn't interested in you. He cares little for people around him as his apathetic nature makes him feel indifferent to the suffering of others. It is only after you managed to break free from his illusions and nearly broke his jaw that he starts getting hyperfixated on you. He's an expert when it comes to fooling others due to his ability to create illusions yet somehow he was not able to manipulate you. That is a rare feat and establishes you as a threat in his eyes immediately. As if to add insult to injury though, when he tries to track you down you are gone. That identity of yours? Fake. The illusionist has been fooled by a not so ordinary woman and that is when it gets really personal for Mukuro. He hates being on the receiving end of being manipulated and fooled- all which you have managed. His obsession starts as revenge. His ego has been wounded and he needs to fix that by tracking you down, tearing down your walls and revealing you for who you truly are before breaking you down. He needs to break you and outsmart you to prove to everyone- even himself- that he is always the one able to checkmate everyone else.

🌫️​Eventually an obsession for vengeance turns into something more. The lines are incredibly blurry after all. Mukuro cruelly tortures anyone for information on you and the more he figures out about your past, the more he starts to consider keeping you. Maybe it is out of a twisted sense of kinship as he knows what it's like to be experimented on or maybe it's because he realises that someone with your skills would be a useful toy for him to have. There is in either case no sympathy shown for the struggles of your past as all of it is instead used against you to torture you only more. Whatever weakness Mukuro can use to shatter your composure, he will hold against you. He's crueller than anyone you will ever meet but he cares little for what others think of him. For now he is fixated on taking revenge on you by torturing you and breaking you. Even if he does break you though, he has decided to keep you. After all the trouble he went through to chase after you, he deserves to keep you as a living trophy. Why are you even fighting to begin with? You could never be a good person after all the people you killed. All you're good for is following orders. Only that from now on you will obey him.

Xanxus

⚫​Would you look at that? The boss of the Varia clashing with one of the greatest spies and assassins in the world. What are the chances? Even amongst the ranks of the Vongola you have always been more of a legend even though nothing about you has ever been known. But you indeed prove yourself to be worthy of every bit of your reputation when you manage to fool Xanxus of all people. By far one of the more difficult tasks you have ever done as Xanxus is arrogant, cruel and rarely allows any softness even to his own subordinates. Yet through months of patience you slowly wear him down until the impossible happens. He actually develops feelings but denies it. Love means softness and softness equals weakness in his mind. Such a shame that he wrestles so much with himself as you know how to use that hesitance to your advantage to sneak into his room and retrieve important information about the Varia and its members. By the time Xanxus finds out, you're already gone. He locks himself away in his room before he lets his wrath take over. Furniture is shattered, walls are cracked due to his punches and as soon as he is done he rips the door out of its hinges. There is only one thing on his mind. Revenge.

⚫​You're scum. Scum has to die. Especially scum that betrayed him. The mere mention of your name can lead to him potentially being triggered and so all other members of the squad learn to only ever mention you in passing. Yet despite all the insults and the violence Xanxus swears to use against you, his feelings stay alive. No matter how much he tries to force them to disappear, they are persistent and only madden him more. Eventually he finds you as violence and intimidation gets you far. He doesn't even give you time to say anything as he starts attacking you the moment he spots you. Wrath and betrayal run deep after all as he mercilessly starts to assault you whilst the other members just watch. However, he cannot bring himself to deliver the final punch. It would be easy as you do not have the access to Dying Will Flames like he does yet he never pulls the trigger even whilst you stare at him without an ounce of fear. Death has always been part of your job after all. He likes to blame it on the lack of fear rather than his own lingering obsession which ultimately leads him to imprison you rather than finish you like he swore he would. He wants you to suffer after all.

Reborn

🔫​Reborn knows you're hiding something the first time he bumps into you. You know he's hiding something the first time you bump into him. Call it the intuition of two people who are the best at what they are doing. Yet despite having an inkling that you are more than you pretend to be, Reborn still decides to engage with you. Something about you fascinates him beyond words as he feels weirdly drawn to you and you might just feel the same. So both of you start a dance around each other, trying to pull the other closer without exposing anything about yourselves. He must say though, you know how to charm your way into a man's heart and luckily he knows how to charm his way into a heart like yours too. All disguises eventually disappear though and that moment comes when it turns out that both of you are after the same person. Still, even as you raise your gun at him Reborn isn't any less charmed. In fact he considers it to be the luckiest and coincidence. What are the chances of the world's best hitman and the world's best assassin to find each other after all? You honestly don't know if he is fighting or flirting with you when both of you start coming at each other.

You could feel their stare. Hot and heavy and burrowing into the back of your head. You were facing the wall, but your room wasn’t big enough to provide the security of a comfortable distance. In your peripheral, you could make out a dark splotch in the farthest corner, entirely disparate from the usual outlines and silhouettes your mind would sometimes turn into monsters in the dead of night. This was new. This was alien. This was real.

For lack of an ability to fall back on denial, you searched for other explanations. You lived in Gotham. Weird things happened all the time. Maybe you’d been dosed with the Scarecrow’s fear toxin and were currently hallucinating. Maybe the dead had risen from their graves (again) and you were the victim of a particularly voyeuristic ghost. Maybe one of the Bats was staking out your apartment complex for a case – it’d happened to your cousin, once, and she had a batarang to prove it. You’d almost lulled yourself to sleep when your dubious-intentioned home invader spoke and, instantly, dispelled every overly optimistic theory you’d managed to scrap together.

“You’re awake.”

Not a question. Not a hallucination, either. You didn’t recognize the voice – feminine and low with the rasp of someone who rarely spoke above a whisper. You tried not to move, not to give any indication that she was right, but all your efforts earned was an airy laugh, a couple feather-light footsteps, and a dip at the foot of your bed. You were trembling by the time you felt her hand on your shoulder, a slight tremor which escalated to full-blown shaking as she eased you onto your back. Never once did you think about running. Somewhere inside of you, there was a deep, animal awareness that the deer who bolted was also the one the wolves were most likely to chase.

Not that she needed to chase you.

Even in the dark, you recognized Cassandra immediately. Any previously considered alternatives had been fantasies – cruel ones, at that. Her cropped hair hung loose around her face. Her lips were split apart in less of a smile and more of an effort to bare her teeth, and her eyes were so wide and so dark, you were momentarily convinced that her pupil had spilled open and consumed the rest of her iris. She leaned down, nuzzling against your cheek, then threw a leg over your body, straddling your waist. Caging you in beyond any hope of escape.

“So pretty…” She was mumbling, now, as if totally unconcerned whether or not you heard. A hand came up to cup your cheek. She was wearing gloves – well, no, she was wearing a suit. Leather and spandex rubbed awkwardly against your skin, weighing you down more than should have been possible. It probably wasn’t a good sign that whatever she planned to do you necessitated full-body coverage. “That’s how I knew it had to be you,” she went on. “I tried, but I couldn’t find anyone else I wanted to look at forever.”

Again, she leaned down. Her lips barely brushed against yours before she drew back, a stream of hitched, almost nervous laughter filling your bedroom. “It’s so—” She cut herself off, dragging a hand through her hair. “There’s pressure on my chest and my head feels— I don’t know what it is. Do you?”

A beat lapsed before you realized she actually expected you to answer. Even then, it took long, agonizing seconds to find your voice and force your tongue to move. “…love?”

“No.” Her response, on the other hand, didn’t require so much as moment of consideration.  “I’ve been in love. This is something else.”

Huh.

Your stalker had broken into your apartment, pinned you down, kissed you, and she wouldn’t even say she loved you. If you weren’t so scared, you might’ve been offended.

“I—um, Cassandra—”

“Cass.”

“Alright, Cass.” You choked down your nerves. “Would you mind… leaving, please?”

She blinked, and you pictured her hands wrapping around your throat, her cloying voice cooing in your ear as she finally, miserably ended your life. But, instead, her smile only grew wider. In one smooth motion, she’d gotten off of you and perched on the side of your bed. You were reminded, unhelpfully, of a one-night stand pulling their clothes back on minutes after the conclusion of their namesake.

“I should. Patrol. B gets mad.” She pushed herself to her feet, making her way to your door. Unhurried, she pulled it open, only to linger in the doorway as those terrible, dark eyes found you yet again. “You’ll come to my place tomorrow, alright?”

You didn’t respond. She waited. Eventually, you forced yourself to nod – the gesture so rushed and shaky, there wasn’t a soul on the planet who could mistake it for anything other than pure, unadulterated fear.

Cassandra’s smile widened.

you're a burnt out college student, you have loans to pay, a side hitch at a restaurant working the front. loving, middle-class parents — which is somehow the most interesting part of your boring persona — and you're simply just the picture perfect imagery of how accurate a normal plot could get.

you have interests, yes, heaven forbid you don't because it would imply you're beyond subhuman, maybe even a blank slate, which is a far off worse fate.

but back to the point, you have your likes. you like reading anything from comics to mangas, that's what you tell your friends and other potential (and failed) dates. you like feeding strays roaming around sidewalks. you like staying up late listening to reddit stories and watching short-form content in whichever site piqued your interest that day.

you pretend that romance is beneath you (in truth, your love life as fickle as your personality), but then a secret part of you indulges in fanfiction in the middle of the night, which is only kept between you and your decades old plush toys in your apartment. you have hobbies. you sometimes sing ballads in your showers, you partook in crocheting, even knitting, failed in both. and sometimes, you do a godforsaken activity you found after doomscrolling in the archives of the internet when you've got nothing to do, give up on it too within an hour, start something new, the cycle repeats, which basically means...

congratulations! you're a human being.

that's as much of an introduction that you've needed to get along with your life and your story. you don't travel much, you don't go out to eat as often as you'd like, your life isn't built on overarching goals like finding a cure for cancer, exploring every country, or traveling to space; you only ever thought of surviving college, finding a decent job with a decent paycheck, splurge all your savings on a trip to probably one of the seven wonders of the world after two decades of slaving off. and that's really it.

you're just living and going about the flow in your life. like floating motes of dust and debris scattered in the air.

you're not entirely satisfied, but you're also not depressed.

you're not suicidal, you're not the type to hurt yourself over small inconveniences. self-deprecating jokes, yes, but not to the point of self-harm.

you sometimes wish for something better, for something interesting to happen: a jackpot at the lottery, a surprise baby, an accident; nothing ever happens, but you're not less grateful at the same time.

you convince your thoughts everyday, in the middle of brushing your teeth, in front of your mirror, in front of the mundane sight before you that, "it could be worse."

thank god it wasn't.

(you sometimes hope it was, just to excuse feeling empty despite it all).

you have your fanfiction to read every night, the bi-monthly shopping sprees if you could afford it, your parents who you could turn to when you're feeling down (even if they sometimes feel invisible and distant, even if your messages were sometimes left unread when your nightly rants became too complicated for them to handle). your have friends, both on campus and online (who all never feel enough to provide you any true laughter, who awkwardly smile at you through calls or lunch dates when they see even a single trace of frown on your face— like they didn't expect such a low maintenance person to be... anything remotely negative; when all you've provided are jokes and never honest connections).

all of them are enough for you to not complain about how nothing interesting really happens to you personally.

in the simplest terms, you're what they call... happy.

not satisfied. not fulfilled. but isn't what they call a normal life a happy life?

you're happy. not too much, not too little. just enough to keep living, and that should be enough.

(enough to ignore the hazy void in your chest. to bury the aching urge to be more. to be something. to be anything other than a faceless person in a crowd—

but those are bad thoughts, those are depressing thoughts, and sad and bad and terrible thoughts should go away and only appear when you decide it should.)

yet... at the same time.

if you were offered another chance, another lease in life, another attempt to make something out of nothing, you'd take it too.

in fact, you'd take anything.

so when you somehow find yourself opening your eyes after a night of scrolling through an archive waiting for any updates to whichever book you're reading— lying on unfamiliar bedsheets, foreign walls surrounding you, crusty eyelids snapped open and awoken by the honk of a loud car from the buzz of the streets outside; one would expect that after momentary confusion, you'd react along the lines of positivity — jumping up from the bed, yelling "huzzah! what an awesome chance to escape this prison i call my mundanity!" — or falling into despair because you're too comfortable with your previous life.

nope. instead, you facepalm, your fingers feeling the skin of your brows furrowing. you slam your body back into the cushions, and let out an exasperated sigh. a substitute for what was supposed to be a frustrated scream.

that's right.

even the fucking way you transmigrated was boring as hell.

it could've been the catalyst for a decent hook in your character introduction, but who the hell would listen to a story like yours if you told them you simply "woke" up in another world.

not thrown, not prophesized, not dropped.

realistically, for your case, you could've been hit by a garbage truck trying to save a cat with a suicide wish making a run for the streets under heavy traffic. or stabbed from right behind. or killed by your childhood nemesis, pushed from a high drop, swearing revenge in another life with a tragic monologue for how short your life has been lived.

but waking up?!

holy shit, you might as well win a reward for being more generic than those black haired anime protagonists you've watched before.

at least they got something interesting to vouch for. like transforming into a fridge, slime, gaining some magical abilities, or, literally anything other than just waking up in a normal body!

you laugh, sarcastic and bloody dry, like the air around you. it reeks of an amalgamation of black car smoke, bile taken from the mouth of a drunk, and crisp, humid mildew growing on the corners of your boxed room. almost like the equivalent of gotham air and—

wait.

you've read about this exact same description before. in the fanfiction you've read the night before this happened.

last night, before you went to bed.

you hear your socked feet thud to the floor faster than your racing mind could register. you have to confirm something.

your head turns to windows left of your bed, you take a slow, precautionary step towards it, noting the way it frosts over, periodically, like the air itself is breathing with you.

but it wasn't winter, your body feels naturally toasty, your breath doesn't exude any misty coldness like it should. looking around, you see the heater inside your room is turned off, but instead there seems to be a dehumidifier operating and buzzing, as if it could combat the toxic stench harassing your nose.

also, the slight smog misting your windows wasn't your usual colors of bleak and boring grays.

no, your eyes widen, your throat constricts.

"holy shit..."

were your first words in this totally unfamiliar world.

just from your distance alone could you see that the air wasn't colorless or like the greys from a polluted city, as it should normally be—

but it was exhibiting hues of unearthly neon greens and blazing purples.

fuck, it looked like a living, breathing, pulsing plume of danger and uncertainty; a warning to anybody who dares to even open their windows in its cancerous state.

you may be average, but you're not stupid.

as much as you wish to confirm the location you transmigrated to, you wouldn't want to take the risk of opening your windows — looking even closer, you could see it's locked with multiple complex latches meant for an apocalyptic setting; and you're once again reminded that you've read about this before — now backing off, slow and deliberate, as the back of your shaking knees hit the frame of your bed.

your throat constricts, your nose still aches trying to get accustomed to the stench of your new life. shit, you notice the smell of it somehow fills the air too. you want to laugh at the irony, but you're too afraid to even think of anything else in this moment.

if this setting was recognizable enough, then you want to cry because it's simply unreal. if you've read about this, no you don't. you wish you didn't. it's fucking impossible that out of every possible world you'll get transported, you end up in the last fanfic you've read. it's wrong. you gaslight yourself, eyes glazing over the cacophony of mixing colors outside your tightly packed room, knees hitting your chest, like a wounded animal.

yet before you could even fall into the hands of a panic attack, before you found yourself gasping for air, a voice on the other side of your door knocked you out of your thoughts. gentle—

familiar. it calls out your name.

"— dear, are you alright there?" the voice... it's your dad's! your father, oh goodness gracious, you've never been more grateful before than now, "i heard some noise, figured you woke up to all the chaos outside. i'll go in right now, okay?"

your brain frantically tries to scramble for a reply, you attempt a "sure," but it comes out croaky, weird, and unreachable to the ears. your door opens before you can respond in full, it creaks, and in enters a familiar sight, a homely face. you could cry right now.

instead, you breathe in relief despite just how dry the air was.

your father, meanwhile, furrows his brow at you the moment his eyes reach your body, maybe because there's tears welling in your eyes, your lips are wobbling, and you look just like you've awoken from a nightmare—

or rather, you've awoken to a nightmare.

"bad night, hon?" he asks, stepping over your crumpled pile of papers, scribbled with equations, in the middle of the room. when he enters your line of vision, when the panic has slowly subsided, a closer look at him had you realizing he looked youthful, more composed, the years of stress haven't line his face yet. and hon? the last time he called you hon was when you were in your first years of college.

then that means this version of your dad is... younger.

younger, back when he was more affectionate, the same man who used to lovingly wrap his arms around his wife, your mother, from behind, who'd willingly kiss her cheeks before going to work— not without looking forced, not because it's a formed habit, but because he actually loved her. the present man before you was the same man who he hadn't yet withdrawn himself from you and your mother with the excuse of focusing more on work, on promotions and colleague drama.

he wasn't the same man who left the two of you to fend off for yourselves emotionally, who'd look more and more like a bank account than a husband as the years pass by.

and, well, your mother more or less would rather spend time with the neighbors to gossip about their neglectful husbands, hidden affairs and— that's far from what you want to think about at this moment, not when there's someone waiting for your answer right now.

you want to reply to the familiar stranger standing right in front of you, reassure him that you're fine, even if it's strange how your parents somehow were dragged into the fray of your transmigration; pretend like the normal you. but your mouth suddenly decided now was high time to stay breathless like a gaping fish caught fresh from the sea, staring up at him, at your father who's equally trying to discern your reactions.

he shakes his head, eyes still laced with genuine concern — so warm, it's as unreal as the pulsing fumes from outside — and brings his palms to ruffle your head. he sits at your bed, right beside you at a comfortable distance, both hands found its way to your clenched ones rested atop your locked knees.

his mouth opens, the words that come out are carefully chosen, but natural, as if he's said the same thing to you before.

"hon, i know it is bad, you're probably scared, i won't lie and say i'm not," his index finger points to the windows behind you, both of you look at the ethereal yet damned sight, at the still-aching air, now supersaturated with colors beyond unnatural and reasonable. then it returns to your fists again, in an attempt to ground you, he massages your shivering fingers while continuing to look at you in the eyes. he continues, "but we'll be fine. the joker does this all the time, hon, trying to poison the air with his toxins just to get a good laugh. at the end of the day, you know he'd be dealt with, that's just how the story goes—

"we're safe, as long as the city's vigilantes and the commissioner are in our prayers. so there's no need to be afraid, 'lright?" he ends his little encouraging speech with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

you only nod at him in reply, biting your lips, eyes still wide at the man, your father, before you. but at least the thumping in your heart has subsided. at least, despite the initial panic, you have someone you can actually turn to, even if there's that nagging fear that your father is secretly a skinwalker imitating the identity of your real parent— but again, happy thoughts.

your father hums, satisfied at seeing your tense shoulders relax, your diluted eyes returning to a normal size. even with your lack of words could he see you're better now. he leans in forward, you flinch but you don't move when he makes the motion of kissing your forehead. in fact, something deep inside aches like an reopened wound instead.

as much as it pains to admit it: you missed this. you missed him.

the past image of your father. you stare ahead after his lips separate from your forehead, afraid that if you look at his kind eyes again, you'll possibly tear up and fall into the hopeless delusion that he wouldn't change, an oddly dystopian setting wouldn't erase his emotional absence by the near future— you still yearn this version of him though.

he didn't mind your lack of reply, you hear your sheets shuffle as he stands, "alright, i'll get out now. your mom's making dinner, your favorite. i'll call you when it's ready—

"oh, also, before i forget, we need to have a talk about your plans for gotham-u later at the table, 'kay?"

"mm." you hum, mindless, not really looking at him as he leaves the room, confirmed by the sound of your door clicking shut.

you only stare at the walls before you, at the lined shelves, the desk and you even turn your head back (avoiding the sight of the outside) to stare at your beloved plushies; really taking in the new setting.

your walls are the same color, your favorite one, but it's a different shade. the shelves are lined with a different arrangement of trinkets. even your desktop had a different layout, with foreign but likeable decorations. your laptop still had its personality, decorated with stickers that you know the same you would apply— you're in a place that still screams you, but in a different life.

it's just that this life feels way more dangerous than it lets on. and maybe that's what's different from your mundane life from before; waking up to the news of a nuclear gas invading the neighborhood.

because yeah— if being locked inside this seemingly foreign apartment, with the image your uncharacteristically kind parents from the past, with latches and locks being the only thing protecting you from the nuclear wasteland caused by the joker right outside your house... then maybe being transmigrated in this life sounds way more worth it if it meant removing yourself from the title of the most boring character the gods above have ever concocted.

wait, what?

"the... joker...?

"... gotham university?"

your fingers hastily try to clench the bedsheets in fear of falling off, vision blurring until everything you see before you become inconceivable, shapeless blobs. suddenly, like a beat dying to be heard, your mind races with thoughts, with a memory of the night before:

'(y/n) didn't understand why their so-called family were so determined to keep them locked up in the manor when all they said was that they're going out for groceries. the family all came rushing to them with stupid, dauntless claims that they're safest here, that gotham is currently in disarray because of the joker's bullshit attempt at clogging the city's sewage systems with laughing toxins once more— not like they'd care. they'd rather die than be faced with their condescending nerve to be gallant.'

'yet damian's sword blocks the main doors, ridding them of any chance of running off, a stupid frown on his face. the others are behind them, ready to pounce if they even try to escape. they roll their eyes, agitated, furious, but how are they to fight against a pack of starved vigilantes?'

'even if they have all the love and attention now, it wouldn't erase the fact that back then, when their eyes hadn't yet followed their form, when they was all but mere shadow, they could always sneak out without ever being caught. ever being seen. that was only ever the blessing of the curse bought upon their sad, little life.'

'"c'mon, dad," they say, with vehement contempt, looking back at the view of an equally frustrated but worried bruce. "if this is another one of your attempts to keep me locked up here again, then screw off and let me live in piece and buy some damn groceries!"'

'"language, (y/n).* bruce tries, with furrowed brows, to calm one of his youngest child with a cold, authoritative voice. but (y/n) refuses to back down. their arms cross, as if questioning bruce's authority, chest all puffed and angered eyes staring pointedly at bruce, their damned father.'

'it wasn't until tim drake cuts off the tense atmosphere with a phone and an article shown in its screen, shoved gently in front of (y/n)'s face, who's eyes scan over the title of: 'breaking news! the joker releases a new wave of experimental toxins at the city's sewage systems affecting many of the main districts!''

'after the younger sibling had done a quick read-through of the article, they roll their eyes at a cautious tim, who scratches the back of his head while saying, "my friends dorming near gotham-u told me it smells worse than shit there. like mold and amplified car smoke or something. also, the air's looks all neon over there too. it's real bad but the air can't be seen from here— why'd you think we're all suited up right now?"'

'yet at tim's very sensible statement, (y/n) could only stubbornly tsk, retorting with, "well, i would've known if you people actually allowed me to read the news instead of babying me every damn second.'

'"tsk, you know what? fine. whatever. i'll believe you for now, so go save the city so i can buy my groceries."'

'and with that, they refuse to look at the piercing of their family, turning on their heel and making their way to their bedroom, stomping the entire time. as if that alone would make family hear the melancholy engraved into every sound of (y/n)'s footsteps...'

holy shit, so you did read about this before. and you're in the exact same world in... in a neglected reader fanfic?! when the haze in your mind subsides and you regain your vision, you see your father standing right outside of the door, head peaked inside your room, hand on the knob and a worried stare in the other— how long have you been reminiscing? has time passed that quickly?

"you seem pretty caught up in your daydreams, hon," he says, yet his expression now twists to a fond smile at the silly thought of you getting lost in your thoughts, eyes glazed with affection, "— that should come later, though. dinner's ready."

'okay, calm down, you. don't make yourself obvious.'

"'kay, dad," you respond, letting go of your crumpled sheets, ignoring the slight sting in your palms. "uhm... can i ask you something?"

"yes, hon?"

'don't be too obvious. don't be too obvious. don't be too obvious.' you repeat to yourself, staring at your father who still patiently waits by your door while beads of perspiration start to drip down your otherwise cold skin, anxious.

"gotham-u's my final choice, right?" you question him, biting your lips, imagining yourself closing your eyes because you obviously couldn't brace your reactions in real time without making yourself look to suspicious.

your father, meanwhile, only tilts his head in confusion. but he recovers and hums at you, nodding.

"yes...? any problems with it?" he swings the door open, revealing himself in all his apron'ed glory, "we've talked about this before, you said gotham-u was final, hon. any last minute changes? we can talk over it in dinner."

he smiles, as if the words escaping his mouth didn't just aim for a fragile piece of your heart.

god, he's so sweet before, so sweet now that it's painful. it's nostalgic and... you didn't realize you miss this version of him so, so much.

your eyes flit downwards, to your wobbly legs and your shaking palms, scared that if you look at him once more, you'll really burst out into tears.

"no, no," your voice cracks, "i was just wondering about... something, dad. it's nothing bad, i promise. you can go, mom's probably gonna get mad if we take too long... i'll, uh, catch up after i— i fix my room in a jiffy. yeah." you wish the world would devour you whole right now, and you wished your father could just revert to the version of him — distant, clinical, cold — you knew in your present before; so you could stop mourning him right now.

but no, he only hums again. and even in your current state, refusing to catch the smallest glimpse of him and the outside world, you can sense the gentle smile returning on his face and the whispered, "alright, hon," before he ultimately leaves once again.

then you're back sulking, burying your face in your palms.

wondering to yourself if this is all a long, aching, fever dream. no matter how real everything feels.

'i really should've specified my wishes to the world, huh.'

because you didn't just wake up in a normal bed, in another normal life, in a completely normal place.

you've woken up in gotham city.

and not just the gotham city you've read about in comics. not just the gotham city with its iconic vigilantes and the deranged gallery of rogues— but a gotham city riddled with a self-insert going to the same university and you whose existence twists the narrative of every character around them; making everyone obsessed with their presence.

somehow, that fate alone seemed worse than anything.

somehow, the first idea that came into your brilliant mind after a momentary breakdown was to grab a recorder after dinner instead.

after all, what's a better way to make things more interesting if not by narrating your new life in gotham city?

— it's not like this life would pave the way for an NPC like you to actually be part of the spotlight, right?

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

PLEASE READ: 4k words. it's 4am. i heavily encourage leaving comments since this is the first major update i've had in a while!!! i love comments guys and i rewrote this prologue for like a hundredth time and somehow this one was the best !! (the others were so corny i want to cry). the next chapters r gonna be funny thrust, this one is just a build up but hey !! i at least learned to put more dialogues in my stories now. uhm i have no other words to say, but just leave comments cause lack of interaction makes me inactive. anyways, that's it !! i hope y'all like the first installment of drtNPC.

TAGLIST: @mishkradetsa , @gluttonousriceflour , @thecloudsaremyhome , @kittzu , @forlacie , midniteshore, @steor-ra , @tagmepls , @xnitz , @leitor-sonolento, @nondiagram, @huyuhumu, @ramens-posts , @weepinglovelight , @prorpy , @lowkeyjarrr , @fishcrack , @eurydiceknowshesloved , @catley1011 , @unixilian1, @gameperson23100, @potterhead0928 , @yomiyayei , @oliviaewl , @sugacor3 , @cloudedthotz , @nahhhhimgood, @breivete , @antionisweird , @lettucel0ver , @fr0ggy-cake, @lilyalone , @iamapotatoe , @ishshhsj, @hyukkja, @kiku07 , @kontradiction , @irenehart02 , @ceramic-raven , @notfuntimes

Front of the house. (Bruce not included... I apologize...)

Main Stairs and a hallway. (So many hallways... And, security cameras!)

Entertainment wing of the house with Ballroom/Bar. (Formal dinning at the end.)

Kitchen and informal dinning.

Library and Entrance to BatCave.

BatCave. (Costumes, T-Rex, and giant Penny included to the best of my ability.)

Informal living room and Movie Room.

Cass's Room. (Let her be soft girl. Steph gives her stuff often. Her room is next to the movie room because I like to think she enjoys watching movies when she can't sleep.)

Steph's Room. (Chaos gremlin, and fun to fill with stuff! Share's bathroom with Cass so Duke can get his own.)

Duke's Room. (He doesn't wanna make a mess.)

Dick's Room (He has his own apartment.)

Jason's Room (The Chocolate Room, as I call it. He doesn't live in the manor, but he will sometimes hoard the books from the library and Alfred lets him.)

Alfred's Room (Traditionally the Nanny's room.)

Damian's Room (Used to be a nursery once upon a time. Eventually became the art room.)

Tim's Room (Bruce's childhood room.)

Bruce's Room and his Downstairs office

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Other things not shown, but included:

Pool/Hotspring

Batcow's Barn

My Reader's Room.

Master Bedroom (Bruce don't sleep in there and I'm pretty sure his parents didn't either cause I made it look ridiculously bougie on purpose.)

Laundry Room

Finished Bathrooms

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Expansion Pack's used:

High School Years

Cottage Living

Snowy Escape

Island Living

Get Famous

Cats and Dogs

City Living

Get To Work

Werewolves

Realms of Magic

Parenthood

Vampires

Dine Out

Spa Day

Romantic Garden

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A black motorcycle sat silently on the shadows of an ally that looked out at the bustling Gotham freeway. You sat on the motorcycle wearing all black, your clothes covered every inch of skin. The helmet was the only part that held any design, it had soft white marking, causing a skull-like design.

a small white cat sat between the handlebars, his yellow eyes looked up at you. He held a small paper in his mouth; the paper was crinkled in Marley's mouth, and a soft purr came from him when he dropped it into your hand. He nudged your gloved hand causing you to let out a smile that was hidden behind your helmet. Carefully, you unfolded the paper with one hand while petting him with your other.

'Tessa Ellis, Logan Coleman'

You hummed lightly and scratched behind Marley's ear, "These the last two? Finally, almost done" you huffed. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out a lighter and held it up to the paper. The smell of fire crept threatened to seep through your mask as you watched it burn. Marley settled down in your lap as you kicked the stand to your bike.

Speeding out of the ally, you weaved through traffic. Lights flew past you as your laughter echoed along with Marley's meows. You could hear cars honking as you zoomed past them, you leaned forward and picked up the speed. Marley enjoyed the intense wind as he clung to your jacket with unnatural strength. You turned sharply into a parking lot, and started slowing down.

Your bike came to a stop as you placed your foot on the ground, your other foot kicked the stand. Your legs straddled the bike while you looked up to the name of the building, 'Gotham Arcade' in bright neon letters that were dimmed thanks to your visor. Slowly you swung your leg behind you, climbing off the bike. Marley's paws settled on the ground without a sound as he followed you into the building. Your walk was confident as you made your way through the crowd, your shoulder made contact with a woman slightly pushing her. She turned with a scowl on her face, only inches from your covered one. her mouth opened, ready to voice her annoyance, however her eyes glanced down to the white ball of fluff at your feet.

"Oh! what a cute cat!" The woman said, immediately forgetting her anger. Her voice was high pitched, which caused her friends to turn to the commotion. Carefully she leaned down, gently pushing the hair out of her face to see Marley better. As she was distracted, one of her friends turned to you her blushing and poor attempt at flirting caused you to cringe. Your expression was hidden from her as she continued. you sighed, growing annoyed with the delay, you snapped your fingers. Marley looked up at you before dragging himself away from the woman and climbing up to your leg. He laid down on your shoulder, nuzzling into your covered neck with a purr.

Through the noise you heard a high-pitched laugh that drew your attention, turning to it, your helmet reflected slightly at the neon lighting. A woman stood in front of a brightly lit claw machine, her short blond hair bounced as she squealed and clutched a stuffed animal to her chest, giggling excitedly. A taller man stood next to her and laughed. Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. His eyes glazed adoringly at her. Making your way towards them, you felt a smirk form on your face. One word formed in your head: Bingo.

Your steps were measured and precise, boots making an inaudible sound against the dark floor. quietly, you stepped behind them. stopping your movement just behind the man, you placed your hands into the pockets of your black jacket. Your right hand gripped the metal object resting in that pocket.

"Oh, are we blocking your way?" The woman smiled sweetly when she noticed you, her head tilted slightly causing her hair to sway. Slowly the man turned to face you, his hand settling on the woman's waist.

"Tessa Ellis and Logan Coleman, right?" You asked, already knowing their answer. The woman's smile faded slightly, the man's hand gripped her waist harder as she nodded. Although your voice was even and non-threating, the couple still felt unease at a stranger knowing their names.

The dark helmet you wore gave no expression away as Marley meowed in confirmation, target acquired. Without a word you slipped your right hand out of your pocket bringing the object with it.

.....

BANG

Screams erupted around you. The man, Logan, dropped to the ground as blood poured from the bullet wound in his head. Tessa had dropped the stuffed animal as her hands went to her blood covered face; her screams were the loudest of them all. Her trembling knees gave out under her, a thud sounded as her knees hit the floor. She reached for her boyfriend with trembling fingers. Her pleading eyes met the visor of your helmet. A whimper escaped her throat, raw and painful sounding. Without hesitation you fired the gun once more at her. In an instant her body slumped over top of her boyfriend.

Marley jumped off your shoulder right at the couple's feet, his white fur faded into black, and his eyes shined a bright blue. You watched their souls as flowed into Marley, once fully absorbed, Marley returned to his usual white coat and yellow eyes.

You slid the gun back into your pocket while Marley returned to his spot on your shoulder. turning on your heels, you walked back to your bike. Your hand pushed the glass door open, your boots clicking louder now that the civilians have all evacuated. A few feet in front of you stood a man, he had black hair and wore a black suit with a blue bird on his chest that went up his shoulders and down his arms.

Your head tilted causing the moon to reflect on the glass of your visor. The blue bird, as you've decided to call him, held duel escrima sticks that looked to have electricity in them.

You felt Marley shift on your shoulder, he meowed lowly. Glancing at him you noticed his hackles raised before a hiss escaped him.

"You work for Catwoman or something?" The man asked, his eyes narrowed behind his blue domino mask, "no, she doesn't kill unless she needs to. You're new to Gotham, who are you?"

"I'm not supposed to give strangers my name" you teased. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be impressed so you raised your hands next to your head in a surrendering gesture. "We're all done here so I was just taking my leave" you offer, trying to sound innocent. Blue bird pointed one of the sticks at you, further preventing your escape.

His stance shifted slightly "The only place you're going is Arkham Asylum" his tone was flat as he kept his eyes trained on you.

You scoffed and lowered your hands, "Yeah, no thanks blue bird. I'm done so now I'm going home" Marley jumped off you, padding his way to your bike and curled on the spot between the seat and the handlebars. he gave you a look that said, 'come on, let's go' and yawned.

Blue bird looked at you, incredibly offended "BLUE BIRD?! ITS NIGHTWING! NIGHT-WING" he yelled waving his arms around furiously.

"My bad" you apologized honestly however you couldn't contain the laugh at how defensive he got. "I really have to get home, you see my boss would be really mad if I kept his cat out any longer" Marley meowed in agreement from his spot on your bike. However, as you walked past Nightwing he grabbed your arm in a tight grip. Both of you stared at each other through the covers on your faces.

....

You swung your free arm at him, the water on the floor splashing around the two of you as he blocked your hit. his leg kicked the back of yours causing you to fall backwards.

"Shi-" the curse died in your throat as your back hit the pavement, you had kept your grip on his arm trying to make him to fall with you. He, however, had more grace and did a backflip out of your grasp. You huffed in annoyance, trying to get back up. But Nightwing left you no time to get up as one of his escrima sticks made contact with the concrete, right where you shoulder was. Luckly, you rolled to the side before it made contact. You reached one of your hands up and grabbed his arm twisting it causing him to flip over. Using this time, you bolted to your bike and hopped on, startling Marley. You kicked the stand and took off, in that time you heard Nightwing get back up and follow after you. using some kind of grappling hook to follow. Marley climbed into your jacket as you picked up the speed, moving faster than any human would dare. You glanced behind seeing him hot on your trail, your teeth gritted in anger. Nightwing was almost close enough to touch you if he tried. You turned sharply into a pitch-black ally. Seeing Nightwing follow, you used the shadows to guide you away. Slightly using your powers to manipulate the shadows, throwing nightwing off your trail.

The boss is going to be so mad for doing that

You sighed, slowing down in front of an old house on the outskirts of Gotham City. Slowly, you let your bike come to a stop in the shadows and stepped off. With a sigh you reached up, pulling your helmet off you felt sweat line your forehead causing your hair to stick uncomfortably. You reached your free hand to your head and pushed your hair back, A sigh of relief bubbled out of your throat as you placed your helmet on the seat of your bike. Marley jumped off before black mist formed and swallowed the bike whole, leaving no trace behind. Marley ran to the front door; he sat on the old welcome mat and looked over at you. You sighed, walking up the creaking steps of wooden stairs, your hand pushed the door open and Marley dashed inside. You followed him into the dusty living room; an old worn couch sat in front of a fireplace. You let your body fall against the couch as you felt your bones go weak in exhaustion. You were so going to get revenge on Nightwing for making you feel such human emotions.

Suddenly a deep voice came from behind causing you to flinch and slowly turn to the cause. There stood a tall man, he was dressed in a long black cloak with the hood up, casting a shadow over his face. He held a large scythe that even surpassed his height. the same black fog from before filled the room, then the man slammed the bottom of his scythe down clearing most the fog instantly. his head lifted, showing a skull in place of what should've been a face.

Marley ran over to him, purring and rubbing his face on the bottom of the mans cloak.

"Oh, hey boss" you spoke nervously, a hand came to the back of your head as you chuckled "I got the job done"

"You used your powers", He stated plainly causing you to flinch again "You failed this test"

....What?!

you jumped and turned; your hands gripped the top of the couch as you now had your chest pressed against the back of the couch, leaning forward to meet his 'face' halfway.

"What!? But I got it done!" You yelled. Sure, that would probably annoy him even more, but you couldn't fail this test! this was the last one before you could become a full-fledged grim reaper! "Come on boss! I could've gotten away easier if I had the ability to go undetected by humans like you!" to be honest, your argument was ridicules and you knew it. You didn't get such abilities until you finished training. However, you were going to try anyway possible to not fail.

"You will restart the test" He spoke clearly, his voice sounding disappointed. your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"WHAT!? Another 100 souls!?" You yelled; the man only sighed and crossed his arms.

He spoke to you as if you were a child who didn't understand basic words, so in otherwards, condescendingly "You are to claim 100 souls, of which have evaded death, without the use of powers" He huffed "And Marley reported the use of your powers tonight"

Your eyes met Marley's, your betrayed expression was ignored. You groaned loudly "but I technically didn't use any powers on them, it was the blue guy who forced me to use my powers!" You defended. You really did not want to retake this test; it took you four years the first time!

He only shook his head, "That is still counted against you, you're not allowed to use them at any point, even the retreat" you could tell by his voice he was growing annoyed "get comfortable here, your new test will be in the limits of Gotham City since that is where you failed"

Turning away from you he spoke one last time, "You are to blend in with the humans, go to school and do your best to not be suspicious" Your groan went ignored by him "perhaps this may prove to be more useful for your future, if you want to be a successful grim reaper" the black fog returned and surrounded him before dispersing, he and Marley had left you all alone.

You pressed your face into the couch to muffle your yelling, it seems like you're enrolling in Gotham High School...

The bustling of students caused Tim to groan, he had stayed up extra late the previous night and already had three cups of coffee. His head was pounding at all the noise, thankfully it quieted down when the teacher walked in.

"Good morning class, we have a new student" the soft voice of the teacher spoke as she placed a folder on her desk. A figure followed behind her, Tim was immediately enthralled by the man who stood at the front of the class. His headache cleared as all thoughts halted to focus on the man. The teacher turned to the new student, her smile was warm and inviting, "go ahead and introduce yourself" she encouraged softy.

"Nice to meet you all. I'm M/n, I just moved here from Metropolis" Your voice was enthusiastic which contradicted the annoyance you felt at having to do this. The teacher guided you to a seat, right by some guy named Tim.

Tim felt his heart race as you sat next to him and introduced yourself again, this time just for him to hear.

You sighed, not noticing Tim's intense stare as you mentally calculated how long this test would take.

Yeah, you were going to get revenge on Nightwing for this.

You were enraged by the man's boldness in sending a written missive; it was solid evidence of his mistreatment of you. Even if he was a trusted advisor to the King of Arclin, the very King you were trying to woo, unsuccessfully thus far. Still, your finer senses insisted that you visit him in secret, for if there was a threat, it was best not to bring attention to it. 

So you found yourself strutting down the hallways of Palace Mirano. Although nothing about your appearance or behavior was atypical, you couldn’t help but feel as though every creature that passed you knew of your unusual appointment, as if his threat was branded on your face.

‘I have some news of great importance, Lady Y/N, surely altering the course of your days here at court.’ 

As you made your way from the south-east wing to the north-east wing, the shift in ambience was evident. The hallways were decorated with superior tapestries, grander embellishments, finer silks. You supposed the closer one was to the king, the finer their existence. How you hated this place —the rotten palace and its rotten politics. As a young girl, you had always dreamt of being at the king's court, but now, after your short time here, you wished to return home to your small keep to the north.

It had been a year since your mother permitted you to follow your father to court. He was a Lord and a member of the King's greater council, along with some thirty other men; some were nobility, while others were ministers from the temple. Your father, the Lord Polinas, had once served as Ambassador to a vassal state—a charge that now fell upon your brother, whom you saw rarely. Your father's ambition ruled your life, for both his children were nothing more than pawns to be abused. Furthermore, having his daughter as a consort to the king would move Lord Polinas from the greater council to the king's inner circle, a rare honor. 

Your thoughts ceased just before the last turn to his private apartments in the palace; your steps faltering. Doubt and apprehension filled you. The truth was, the man vexed you. His fixation with you had been evident the first few months at the palace. It had been odd to have his attention, for whispers at court painted him differently; he was a man unwavering in purpose, wholly devoted to the king. Even at seven and thirty, he hadn’t married or courted any ladies. And yet you had broken his focus, a dent in his devotion. Those pale green irises would follow you during banquets like a hawk following its prey. You, of course, had a king to seduce and ignored his approach when he attempted to court you. Soon his gaze shifted from desire to disdain to indifference. Why then had he initiated this meeting? Sent that godforsaken missive. 

Forcing your legs to move, you made the final turn, waiting for one of his guards to announce you. Not a moment later, you were let in by a servant girl. The petite girl led you through his foyer, walking past several arched doorways till you reached what seemed to be his private receiving room. Your eyes swept over the chamber, beautiful and immense, a clear token of his place as the king’s trusted advisor. Suddenly, realization dawned on you –as if you had been blind before to his position and power in this palace, it had been bold to ignore him, dangerous even. 

“The Lord will be here shortly, please help yourself to the refreshments, my Lady,” spoke the girl, head bowed, much more docile than the servants in your chamber. 

“Thank you”, you replied. The only response you received was another bow, and then she scurried away, leaving you in the quiet of the massive space. 

You didn’t touch a morsel of food; nausea sat tight in your stomach. Your mind drifted once again to the devilish man. He wasn’t exactly beautiful; his face was too harsh, too rugged. Despite his age, he made for an imposing figure at court, lean and tall, demanding respect even from those who abhorred him. In his youth, he had fought by the king’s side as a general; their bond forged in the depths of war, stronger than steel. But now he was regarded as a master schemer, playing his hand with careful consideration and never without his share of dirty tricks.

Your musings were interrupted by a honeyed baritone, “Ah! Forgive my rudeness, Lady Y/n, an unanticipated situation demanded my attention.”

You turned to see him standing by the arched doorway, clad in an embroidered black tunic, its collar standing tall, framing his jaw. Heavy metal clasps ran down the front of the garment, gleaming like armor plates. In contrast to his perfect clothes was his face, littered with scars, the most prominent of which began at his cheekbone, splitting the corner of his lips, ending at his chin.

He watched you with his head slightly tilted, a tight smile on his face.

“I took no slight, Lord Bonnessec,” you tilted your head in turn, mimicking his false politeness, “matters of the state take precedence.”

The shift in his gaze was evident after you tilted your head; you were mocking him, and he knew. 

“Oh, no, I would never wish to make you wait, especially considering how hard it is to secure a fraction of your time.” He bit back, derision replacing propriety. 

So you spoke sweet as nectar, to soothe the situation, “Ah-, the past week has been impossibly bus–”

His voice interrupted, quieter, more thoughtful, “I do believe in the four months past, you have not deigned to speak to me until now.” The words were said as though it was a simple observation, as though keeping track of the last time one spoke to an acquaintance was normal. 

“I am sur–”

“And a little over three weeks since you looked at me, really - looked - at - me.” The longing in his regard made you look away, dread expanded. What is happening?

“Funny, that I should matter so little to you”, he finally moved away from the entrance towards the refreshments, his tone casual and conversational now, the theme of his words anything but. You twisted as he walked, eyes glued to him, like prey watching the predator.

“In this court, I am second only to the King. –Of course, there is the king’s steward, tsk his brother,” the slight disdain evident in his voice, raising a brass pitcher, he poured wine into two goblets. 

“But… between you and me,” his attentive gaze lifted to yours, as if seeking your confidence, “that’s just a token act. To refuse his own brother the Stewardship would have been impolite, –despite the enmity between them.” 

Lifting the goblet of red wine in your direction, he offered it to you. Despite your sudden thirst, you decided that being sober when dealing with this cunning man was far better. 

“Thank you, but I must decline, reds sit sour on my tongue."

He smirked, placing the goblet on the parlor table between the two of you. 

“Shame, it’s one of my favorites. As a matter of fact, the grapes grow not too far from your keep.” He took a sip, a delighted hum reverberating from his chest. “Oh, do sit down, my Lady, we have much to discuss.”

Stiff as a board, you took a seat across from him. Why had you been foolish enough to come here? That cloaked threat seemed minuscule now, to the threat you felt in being here with him all alone. 

No! There were guards nearby. 

His guards, you fool. 

“My post requires that I survey the flow of coin to and from the king's treasury. What is spent, borrowed, and most importantly owed.” You noted the heavy emphasis on the last word. 

“I am sure you are wondering why I am boring you with such stately matters.” His hands reached for a scroll on the table beside him, “After all, you have banquets to attend, and a king to seduce.”

The complete abandonment of decorum was a strike to the face. How dare he say something so crude? No matter the truth it held. It seemed that you alone would have to maintain civility now; such outright hostility, even in private, won’t do.  

Willing yourself to contain your rage, you spoke with cultivated disdain, “Lord Bonnessec, I urge you to maintain decorum, for once it is lost, it is not easily regained. I’ll do you the favor of overlooking your impropriety this once.”

Rather than taking offence, his lips curved with smug amusement, his face similar to a child watching a jester make a fool of itself. 

“How gracious of you, my Lady, but your efforts are wasted. You see, I wish to drop all veils of civility between us.” 

leaning forward, he placed the scroll on the parlor table, expecting you to read the contents, but you were too taken aback by his words.

“I think I ought to leave, excuse me.” You rose to leave.

“Won’t you have a look at what I foun-”, before he could finish, you interject, tired of his games. 

“I will take my leav–”

“DO NOT DISMISS ME”, he roared with unrestrained fury, rattling the very air around you. Slowly, you sat back down, terrified of the man before you. 

“By the saints,” he sighed, “Forgive my oversight, you… you make me forget myself.” 

Knowing that the quiver in your voice would betray you, you kept silent. Raised voices were your vulnerability, undoing you like a child on a thunderous night. And his…, his was the harshest one you had ever been subject to. With a bowed head, you attempted to will the tears away.

“Never mind that, we shan't stray from the matter at hand. I have been examining your father’s affairs at court.” 

Your chest constricted, breathing becoming impossibly difficult. Eyes still glued on your clenched fists, you forced yourself to make sense of his words. 

He continued speaking apathetically, “ My examination revealed lost funds, while your father had served as the ambassador to Tazimra, and the losses have continued even as your brother serves as the ambassador.” 

He fell silent, waiting for you to reply, but it was all too much for you. This court and its games. You were only a girl of two and twenty, and your father told you nothing of his affairs.

“To put it simply, My Lady, your father has been stealing from the King, no small amount, might I add. It’s treason worthy of execution and loss of title for the family.” 

Finally, you look at him, your sight blurred by unshed tears. Had your vision been clearer, you might have noticed the flicker of concern on his face. 

“I will– I will speak to my father, I am sure he would be glad to come to an arrangement with you,” you said shakily, misunderstanding his intentions and desires completely. 

Curiously, he watched you, studying the shake of your leg, the heaving of your chest, the fear seeping from your pores, pungent and intense.

“An arrangement?” he questioned.

You had concluded he wished for a bribe, a share of the stolen goods.

“I assume y-you wish for a share of…”, you hesitated, not wanting to admit to theft you knew nothing of. 

To your utter dismay, he laughed, a powerful and deafening sound, reverberating off the stone walls like a death knell.

“You think I wish to pocket your father’s stolen coin. You insult me, dearest…” he said sweetly, yet you could hear the contempt behind his words. It was your turn to be befuddled. Why else were you here? 

He rose from the armchair to join you on the settee, settling a little too close, patchouli and sandalwood invading your senses. Grabbing a loose tendril resting on your shoulder, he rubbed the luscious lock between his fingers, admiring it. 

“I suppose I do wish to make an arrangement,” lifting it to his face, he took a deep breath, wanting to inhale you entirely, “But it is you who must satisfy the requirements, not your father.”

You tried not to cry, but it seemed you were still a pathetic little girl. Tears fell freely now, thick and heavy, staining your pride. How foolish were you to think you could intimidate Blamore Bonnessec, that you could ignore him and leave unscathed? 

“W-what is it that you want, My Lord?” you asked, each word quivering.

Dropping the lock, he wiped away the tears on your cheek.

“You.”

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

This has been sitting in the drafts for awhile, It'll probably only be five chapters. All the names etc are totally made up, I Imagine it to look like game of thrones aesthetically.

and give me time for ccf :))

series taglist is open.

Never once since finding out about your ex's secret had you thought about sex with your boyfriend. Depression killed most of your libido, and his touches disgusted you rather than excited. But he, on the other hand, or perhaps that beast controlling him, apparently had.

Looking out of the window, you had a full view of the bright full moon, hanging like an executioner's axe above your head. Even if you could escape this room, you knew you couldn't outrun the monster. Not with his enhanced senses and abilities. You could try to fight him, but your chances of success were slim with his superior strength and the possibility of you freezing up when you were face to face with the creature.

What should you do then? Simply... give up?

You shuddered, another cracking reminding you the monster was again working on opening the door. On getting to you. He wouldn't stop. He didn't when you screamed and begged, didn't when you were obviously afraid. There was no reasoning with an animal, and tears welled up in your eyes.

"Mhm, sad... Mate sad," your ex whined through the gap in the door, his voice mixing into the monster's way of talking. As if to lure you, like the big bad wolf had with little red riding hood. "Soon. I'll be there soon."

You knew it would be.

Surprised, you found yourself in front of the door, watching as the gnarly arm yanked at the second to last lock, impatiently trying to tear it off. There wasn't much you could possibly do to save yourself, but it was all too much to bear for your psyche. Tears fell freely as you reached up, not even realizing you had come so close to the beast, and brushed your hand over his fur. He stilled, letting go of the lock as he reached up instead.

Your breath hitched as you thought he would wrap his paw around your throat, but instead, his palm cupped your face, clawed thumb wiping away the tears. "Open the door," he rumbled softly, commanding it despite the gentle instruction. "Let me come in, mate. Let me comfort you."

His hand fell from your face, brushing down your body. There was something so strangely sensual in this huge paw of a hand gently caressing your body, even if the claws could slit you open at any given moment. You were going crazy, but you didn't move, didn't shove him away as you should have. He drove over the curve of your breast, his knuckles getting caught on your nipple, flicking it one after the other before he moved on to the side of your hip. Then the hand slit around the small of your back, pushing you closer to the door before settling above your ass.

Its presence was like a threat, and you reached up with shaking hands, slowly fiddling with the key to the door before unlocking it. Two more to go.

"Good," it growled. "I can smell your arousal. I'll see to it soon, pretty mate. Open it. Open the door."

Click. Did you want it to? Did you perhaps want that werewolf to get to you, ravage you like the beast it was? Had you gone insane after a month of isolation and depression? Your breath hitched as you reached for the last lock, the steady growling turning into more of a purr as his hand spread over your asscheek, slowly rubbing it, fingers dipping down too low for comfort with his elongated tips. Yet, when he pulled them from between your legs, you followed his touch, chasing the tingles he left in his wake.

Yes. You had gone insane. Fuck, you must have been mad, but your hands acted on their own as they unlocked the last barricade between you two.

"I-I'm opening it now," you announced, and the monster hummed appreciatively.

"Yes... Yes, you open it now, sweet thing. Let me in."

Your breathing ragged, the last lock clicked open much too easily, and you stepped backward as the wood creaked open. The monster's arm retracted after pushing down the handle from the inside, the splintered wood cracking out of the way as the creature's massive body broke through the frame.

There was more growling as it got stuck in the small opening, his body way too massive to fit, but it was too eager to wait. The werewolf jammed into it, shoulder and legs getting caught as he couldn't decide what should go first.

You gasped, noticing he hadn't even shifted fully yet, with much of your ex-boyfriend's features remaining as you caught his gaze, looking at you with desperation and sorrow.

"S-Sorry," he stuttered, his voice the growl of a beast, yet you knew it was your boyfriend talking to you. Telling you he couldn't stop it—no, he couldn't stop himself. You needed to stop differentiating the two when they were one and the same. And you were what they wanted, they desired, even if his rational part tried to protect you from the one that ran purely on instinct. You were prey. Prey that the werewolf wanted to fuck and then devour.

For some reason, that revelation made your heart race faster, and your legs clenched tighter together, a shuddering breath escaping you.

"Pretty mate," he sighed. "Pretty, pretty. So needy, so ready."

"W-What do you mean?" you asked him, and his grimace twisted into a grin.

"I can smell it. You are ripe and fertile. You're gonna take my seed and you will enjoy it, begging to have my cubs."

A gasp escaped you as you were slowly backed into the wall to the side of the bed. It was moments like these that made you regret not caring enough before. Not stealing a knife from the kitchen or asking for silver to protect you. Fuck, how could you have been so stupid as to open the door?! How could you do this to yourself?!

Your core clenched, and the shameful realization finally dawned on you. It had been some time since your period, and that meant... you were ovulating. Your libido may have been off, but nature didn't miss. Especially not if your boyfriend had some weird, werewolf pheromones you didn't notice before. It was your only explanation for wanting this thing anywhere close to you. You two used to have a very active sex life, but you had always used protection, and he had never pressed you to do what you didn't want. Maybe that made you too easily persuaded now, in this situation. A false sense of trust

"Don't be scared," the creature purred, reaching out his fully shifted arm towards you. "I'll take good care of you. I'll start right now."

With that and the terrifying sound of wood breaking, that massive monster plummeted to his knees, more hair sprouting as the full transformation took place. You watched in horror and awe as his snout elongated, teeth sharpening, and ears protruding from the top of his head. You wanted to throw up, but you had no time as the snout leaned forward, landing right between your legs.

The deep inhale could be felt through all the layers of clothes on you, and you felt your own wetness betraying you as it seeped into your panties. The monster was way too huge, even as he knelt, his body bending in what must have been painful for him just so he could kneel before you and sniff your privates mercilessly, driven by the need to satisfy his and your cravings.

Pushing his snout upwards, an electric shock went through you as it flicked your clit, maw splitting to allow his tongue to lap out. It was so damn long, able to easily slip between your asscheeks from his front-facing position. And it moved like a separate entity, a snake able to buckle and twist, eager to taste all you were offering.

Claws hooked beneath the waistband of your pajama, and you squeaked as he rapidly pulled them down to your ankles. His tongue moved out of the way only to let the fabric pass, immediately slinging back between your legs, licking up all the excess wet coating the inside of your thighs. You let out an involuntary moan as the tip of his tongue poked at your entrance through the fabric, and the monster chuckled, his tongue vibrating along to the sound.

It was almost too much. Your body bent forward, the monster's shoulders perfectly in reach to grab onto, and you leaned into his snout. He took it as a sign of your willingness, arms reaching out to support you by the hips, and you whined as the thick muscle pressed into you teasingly. You'd never be able to take it fully, and the fear gave you another pang to your core, making you imagine what it would be like inside you, winding and twisting around.

You felt so embarrassed that you were thinking about these things, not understanding why your body would crave them. But you couldn't stop. Couldn't stop thinking of the ways it could lap at your folds, play your clit, or dig deeper than anything ever had before. Maybe with a tongue like this, your orgasm wouldn't be an every-once-in-a-while thing but a constant, double, triple pleasure that only you got to experience. You were fucking going insane, and the shame almost turned you on more.

"So good," the monster praised, and the deep sound shuddered through your body. You raised onto your tiptoes, realizing you were so close to the edge of depravity. But that was when he sniffed your soaked-through panties, inhaled with a long, deep breath before suddenly closing his maw, leaving you breathless and violently tingling.

"You're ready," the creature announced and you whined as he pulled the last bit of pressure—his nose—from your clit, leaving you with nothing. You didn't know you could be this needy, but your fingers curled into his fur, silently willing him back to give you the earth-shaking orgasm he had built up to.

"You need to be filled up, sweet thing. Need my seed to swell your belly until it bursts and give you what you desire, little mate."

His hold on your hips grew uncomfortably tight, but before you knew it, you were lifted off the ground. A breathless gasp escaped you as you were carried over to the bed, your head hitting your pillow with a soft "Uff!" escaping you. But when you opened your eyes, the werewolf was right there, his legs spread on either side of the bed, one arm gripping the iron headboard that creaked underneath the pressure of his grip.

It felt incredibly threatening to have him hover above you like this. Still, at the same time, you couldn't help but flush with heat as he looked down at you, that massive monster looking at you as if it was either lovestruck or famished, satisfied some inner demons of yours. That was, until your eyes fell below his waistline, seeing the red, angry erection that awaited you there, jutting out of the fur and merrily spilling precum as if it was lube.

With a groan, your ex reached down, gripping his massive cock awkwardly in his clawed hand. More cum gushed from it, and his hips pounded forward into the hold. There was no way you could take that, its girth unimaginable inside your small, human pussy.

Some of the hot spill touched your bare legs, your pants discarded on the floor where you had stood, and you jolted from the heat. It spread like wildfire, the thought of being filled with it almost sending you over the edge right then and there. The idea of your womb filled up with this hot, heavy seed was so enticing to you, although you didn't realize it had been a kink of yours. Something felt so off about your reactions, yet you couldn't determine what. You couldn't turn your eyes away from his cock, not even as his hand slid back, fingers spreading further to envelop the bulbous growth at the base. You swallowed thickly as you watched him squeeze and massage it, the discomfort clear in his movements, yet his tip just wouldn't stop spilling.

"Open your legs," he growled, and you shuddered as hesitation and willingness fought inside of you. It seemed the monster didn't have the same concerns as you had, willing to tear you open just to get his dick wet. And a part of you wanted to be the one wetting this dick, but this time, rationality won.

"N-No, it won't fit!" you squeaked, slamming your legs shut as hard as you could and moving backward until your shoulders hit the iron frame.

"It will," the werewolf snarled confidently. "You are more than ready, little mate."

"No! No, you will hurt me! I can't take it--"

The deep growl that clattered his teeth shut you up fast, and you turned your head away as he lowered his towards yours. His snout ran from your temple to the side of your throat, brushing away your shirt to expose more of the soft area between your shoulder and neck. When he licked over the spot, you felt a jolt of pleasure rake through you, a weird kind of connection developing with this monster.

"You are my mate. I long prepared you for this—longer than you realize. Spread you wide, marked you, let you smell my pheromones. You were always going to be mine, even when you didn't know it. You were ready before you found out about this, but tonight, you'll finally take your place as my mate. Mine."

Pushing his hips down, they connected with yours, and you temporarily forgot to clench your thighs, allowing the monster to rub his cock against your cunt. It was hot, wet, and ready, and with your soft whine, you signaled that you were, too.

With his free hand, he reached down, grabbing your left leg before pulling it to the side. With another sniff in the air, the monster let out a satisfied rumble before stretching out his pointer, slipping the claw under the fabric of your panty.

You gasped as the fabric tore at the smallest of tugs, easily giving way to your bare pussy, and you felt almost the same sense of shame as you had at your first time with your boyfriend. Shy, virginal. Perhaps because, to this werewolf, with his heightened senses, you were much more exposed than normally. He saw, smelled, and tasted everything so much more and did so with the greatest of pleasures.

"Mhm, tight," he commented as he looked down.

"Too tight," you whined, and he snorted.

"Perfect."

Pushing your leg back, he brought his own forward to secure it in place, and letting go of the headboard, he swept your other leg up to rest it above his. You hadn't even noticed the swift lifting of your hips he did, only feeling the softness of your blanket underneath them when he had already elevated you. He was surprisingly considered for a beast, but that wasn't what you should have been thinking about.

"Hold here," he instructed, guiding your hands over your head and to the iron rods that made up the headboard. With shivering hands, you grasped them and looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes not wavering from yours as he reached down to position himself.

"Good girl," he chuckled, and you couldn't help more heat spreading to your cheeks as you looked away first.

Cursing the wave of excitement, only measured against the fear of being penetrated by something so big, you whined softly as you felt his tip press against your entrance, your pussy gaping after this promise of finally getting the orgasm you had been denied before.

His snout leaned down, brushing against the side of your face reassuringly, and you heard that eery purr rumble in his chest again. With his own hands gripping the top of the headboard, you began to realize what you had allowed. You shifted on top of his lap, pulling yourself further away, but his hips followed, caging you between his body and the headboard.

"No, no wait!" you whimpered, panic spreading through you as your body prepared with all the adrenaline it could muster.

"No more waiting, little mate," he replied and his hips snapped forward.

A soundless scream ripped from your throat, your spine arching as the whole shaft of his cock invaded you, split you wide open, and tore your entrance as the bulb tried to follow into your depths.

"It's too big!" you complained, but your words were all but one big moan that only encouraged him more. There were no words to describe the feeling, a mixture of pain that turned into pleasure, that burned with even more pain before finally pressing all the right spots. And you were so full.

You felt your toes curl as you came, overwhelmed to the point of tears. Tears that were licked up by an eager tongue, wet and hot as it found your lips, pulling them apart to invade your mouth as well in an abhorrent kiss to fur-covered lips. His tongue was choking you, fucking your throat as his cock made little juts inside you, guiding you through your orgasm.

It didn't take him long to find a rhythm, his cock rutting into you madly by the time your high was broken, only mind-shattering sensitivity remaining. The headboard creaked and shook as he used it to drive himself forward and deeper into you. Soon, your wetness and his precum pooled beneath your cunt, and when he dragged his cock back, preparing for an especially deep push, the knot at the base slipped inside with it.

This time, you did scream, loud enough to make him jolt, his cock kissing even deeper as your bodies collided. The werewolf growled, pulling his knot free, and your shriek turned into a loud moan, your eyes rolling back. And so he did it again, fucking the mass into you again and again. You couldn't scream every time it spread you open with blunt force, but every time it did, you felt like losing your conscience.

Soon, he didn't even pull it out fully anymore, only moving inside of you. The knot grew, and you squirmed, uncomfortable with the mass spreading inside you. "No!" you whined, but it wasn't convincing when it sounded like a plead for more. You completely lost control as his cock bulged inside you, the beast growling as a hot spurt of cum splashed your inner walls.

And as if the floodgates opened, more spurts followed, spilling all inside you with no chance of escaping. You wished it didn't give you that ugly, fulfilling feeling of yet another orgasm, but you weren't spared. The werewolf groaned as you clenched around him, and you shook violently while more and more cum filled your womb. Just like he promised, he filled you up to the brim, expanding your insides as if he had already gotten you pregnant. You felt both nauseated from the feeling of fluids swapping around inside of you as well as so damn satisfied by feeling full.

Growls and howls escaped him, maw lowering back to settle between your shoulder and neck. You didn't notice him licking the spot over and over while you were still orgasming, as if this was the first time you had ever reached such a high. Groaning, you let your head fall back, arching your body against his, not realizing this had been your biggest mistake.

Pain worse than anything you had ever felt before shot through you, and your scream died down quickly as blood gushed from your shoulder, his teeth burying deeper as you tried to rip yourself away from the monster. He was groaning, lapping at the wounds his maw caused and his cock jerked inside you, causing all the fluids to sway.

You reached around his neck, driving your nails through his fur and into the taut skin on his back. You whimpered and pushed your body into his pleadingly, willing him to stop. It hurt so much, and yet you felt almost back at the edge of your orgasm, your hips unwillingly rutting against his, the knot moving back and forth around your entrance.

Only when you came again did the werewolf stop his bite, howling at the sight of you shuddering violently beneath him. And finally, he was satisfied, your blood dripping from his maw as he pumped his cock into you again a handful of times, making sure you were plugged up well.

"Mine," he rasped. "All mine. My mate, my bitch."

His hand fell to the swollen part of your stomach, and you groaned as he applied some pressure.

"And soon," he hummed, satisfied as you felt another pump of cum fill you up. "You'll bear my pups like a good mate. And I will fill you up again for more like you were always meant to be."

You barely registered the words, but the tears falling from your eyes were proof that you understood. Understood what you had allowed to happen, understood that you were indeed what he claimed you to be. His bitch, his little breeding pet. His.

"Good," he chuckled, and you let out a sob, realizing he could feel your giving up, the despair overwhelming you. But to him, it was only one thing: submission. He didn't need you to voice it to win a battle you couldn't have fought if you wanted to. And you were too helpless to make him think otherwise, too exhausted to argue, too full to deny what you were.

Tugging his knot back, you realized he was slowly able to pull it out, and you whined, feeling the first spurts of seed run down your legs. But he pushed it back the second he noticed it, humming as he seemed to enjoy your warmth.

"You're all mine now, you belong to me," he growled, victorious. But then a whine broke through, and you watched as the werewolf hunched over, one hand gripping his head. Concerned, you didn't know what to do, but when you tried to move, you felt his knot inside, and the pleasure that shot through you made you flush with heat and moan.

"God..." you heard him whine, and you looked up, not in the eyes of a beast, but those of your ex. You saw your own reflection in them, undone, bloody, and sexually satisfied beyond recognition. He whined again softly, but you didn't believe his words when he sobbed them quietly. Not with his knot pulsing inside you still, leaking seed everywhere.