I remember ur works years ago. Do u still have the sanzu drabble where he gives reader matching scars? If so, could u please post it?

Hey queen, I’ve been okay. Not one of my best years tbh. I honestly don’t remember this Drabble but I went through all my old writing in my google docs and I can’t believe it, I did write this. LOL.

Deff not anywhere near one of my best works of writing but I’m impressed and flattered that you remember it. So here ya go ❤️

Tw: yandere themes, knives, blood, scars

Yandere! Sanzu who pushes you onto his bed and straddles you after you try and escape one night. He’s twirling one of his sharpest knives in between his fingers and grinning down at you, a manic expression on his face.

He carves your face up just like his; twin cuts at the edge of your lips. You’re squirming and screaming underneath him, but his grip on your chin is fierce. Some of your blood smears across yours cheeks in your plight for escape and Sanzu laughs at your distress.

If you look as fucked up as him, no one else is going to want you. If he ruins your beauty and re-builds it in his image, no one will ever look at you again.

He doesn’t let you clean it up this time. Locking the bathroom door, the blood stays dried on your face and you don’t have access to butterfly bandages to close the wounds. They heal awfully and after a week Sanzu drags you in front of a mirror to look at the mess he made.

Your eyes widen at the image of yourself reflected in the mirror. A sob rips from your throat as your hand comes up to touch your face in the mirror. The scars are jagged and large; larger than Sanzu’s. They’re fresh and gruesome and they wreck any attractiveness your face once held. It’s painful, to look at and to experience. Your sobs quickly dull to small cries. The sounds pull at your lips and stretch the wounds painfully.

Sanzus hand comes up to cradle your head to his chest as he looks at you through the mirror. You want to curse him, hit him, fuck his face up even more… anything to repay him for what he did to you. But his grip on your head is strong and you notice that his face doesn’t reflect the disgust that yours does.

He’s looking at you with awe. There’s a glimmer in his eyes- something that was never there before. It’s different than the lust they usually exhibit. Your lungs seize and a gasp gets caught in your throat when you realize that his look displays a sliver of love. You’d never be able to catch it if you didn’t know him so well by this point. There’s a vulnerability hidden under his skin and you clutch at his arms.

So imagine your surprise when a reporter on the red carpet for one of his new films asks Chrollo if he has his eye on anyone, if he’s looking to rectify his single status and possibly find a partner any time soon. Imagine your surprise when Chrollo utters your name. A singer who runs in completely different circles, and although you’re not unknown, you’re definitely on a different, much lower, social tier than Chrollo Lucilfer.

After that innocuous statement from Chrollo, the media goes wild. His fans are up in arms, and theories are flying across all corners of the internet. Chrollo isn’t usually forthcoming with information about his private life. And he’s even more private when it comes to dishing up information about his lovers. You could count one hand the amount of people Chrollo has been linked with, and half of those are just rumors. So now, you’re fending off crazy fans and un-wanted attention because people believe surely if Chrollo name drops you in an interview it must mean you’re more than just a crush to him? Surely, the ever evasive Chrollo must be dating you, must have an established and serious relationship with you if he’s mentioning you in interviews?

Some people, but very few, believe he’s claiming you as his celebrity crush because he wants to cling onto fame longer. They say that your time is coming, you’re on the precipice of rookie singer to Hollywood’s next top star and Chrollo wants a slice of that attention to bolster his own fame.

He melts whenever you initiate gentle acts of physical intimacy and he curls in on himself, in a way you’d never seen him before. He’ll pull you close, shoving his head into the crook of your neck to hide the heat in his cheeks while your lips graze the bottom of his ears and your fingers gently massage the back of his neck.

“Jus’ want you to feel safe. It’s all I want for you , Toj.” You mumble against his skin.

Toji shivers against your body. An incoherent murmur of acquiescence meets your ears, and you know that’s as close as Toji can get to verbally affirming his love for you. Getting him to trust you physically has taken time, but he’s done it. So you know that words of affirmation will follow suit in time.

You’ve seen Uvogin keg chug many times at parties like these, drunk Phinks and Feitan brawling in the backyard, Hisoka snorting something suspicious of a girls body on the kitchen table. Yea, you know the type of men Chrollo hangs around and he’s so unlike the rest of them. Other than the few drinks Chrollo sips on leisurely throughout the night, you’ve never seen him let loose. He’s never even been close to tipsy. And it intrigues you. Who is the man hidden under all that designer clothing? Under the obvious façade of apathy and clear superiority.

It’s not until you get him into bed with you one night, that it all makes sense. You’re not even sure how it happened. You’ve somehow caught Chrollo’s attention for the night, sidled up next to him on a couch in the bastement of the frat house. He indulges your actions. Lets you take his cap off and run your fingers through his dark hair. He doesn’t protest when you link your fingers with his and pull him in the direction of his bedroom. It’s not until you’ve closed the door and he’s laying on his bed waiting for you, that he drops all his walls and let’s you see him for what he really is.

You’ve pulled his jeans down, tossing them somewhere behind you. The belt clinks on the hardwood and you’re sure you damaged the piece of designer gear. Scratched it enough to put you into debt if Chrollo makes you replace the accessory for him. But Chrollo doesn’t even acknowledge any of your actions save for the touch of your fingers on his thighs. He’s pliant under you, his eyes are pleading and you can tell he wants beg with his words. But something is stopping him. And you know it’s his unease. That you’re seeing the true Chrollo. The man he works tirelessly to hide. The stripped down version of who he really is. A pathetic, submissive boy at heart.

So when you tease him with your tongue on his stomach. Dipping down into his belly button and blowing cool air across the wet trail, he knows he won’t last long. He breaks. Begging for you to stuff him full. A smile cracks your lips and since he’s asked so nicely, you oblige, albeit slowly. You pull his boxers down leisurely, talking delight in the way his cock springs out and slaps his chest. Chrollo whimpers at the sensation, his cock is so hard, throbbing with a passion and it makes you laugh. How this man with all his air of superiority, buckles at the needs of his poor cock. Tied to a need so primitive.

You don’t wait much longer. After sucking your fingers throughly, you dip one into Chrollos hole, chuckling again at how eager he is. His cock jumps in time with the fluttering of his ass hole. You slide your finger in further, down to your knuckle. And Chrollo’s groan reverberates around the room. It all makes sense now. His actions at parties, his treatment of his fellow brothers, his air of superiority, the way he walks around campus like a King among his subjects; yea it all makes sense. It’s Chrollos shield. His way to hide behind his true desire, the truth behind himself.