#Shadow gaslights himself... or does he

[brucewaynehater101]

Mafia AU with the batfamily, but it starts when Jason comes back as the Red Hood.

In this AU, Dick is the first one to find out about Jason being a crime lord. He finds out that his little brother is alive and running a gang and says "fuck it."

Is Dick currently a police officer and vigilante? Yes. Does he also immediately quit his day job to join Red Hood's gang as soon as finds out? Also yes.

Dick has a second chance with his brother. Is this brother a little murderous? Sure. Dick's tried to kill people too, though. Also, Dick is 83% sure Tim's got a kill count. It's fine.

So Jason is confused why Dick is willing to join a gang. The oldest brother says some cringe worthy stuff about family and Jason takes the action as the proof of love and loyalty it is (also, somehow Dick is just as terrifying to their enemies as Red Hood, but Dick doesn't kill them).

Tim, upon seeing Dick join a gang, instantly researches the hell out of this group. He finds out it's Jason, runs the stats for how crime has dropped in Crime Alley, and instantly starts working behind the scenes to create a smoother path for them. Without meaning to, Tim becomes the shadow boss for Jason's gang. The brothers are not aware that the other gangs, mobs, and rogues are wary of whomever it is that's smoothly guiding Red Hood's gang to success.

Red Hood is the face, Nightwing (though maybe a different moniker) is his right-hand man, and there's someone steering them to victory.

The startling efficiency of the gang and quick ascent drives Bruce into a paranoid bender. The man also has no clue where Dick wandered off to and why he's ignorning Bruce. Tim, as Robin, pretends to try to help Batman take down this group. This causes mass amounts of confusion because no one is aware that Tim is helping Hood besides Tim himself.

When Damian first appears in Gotham, he doesn't immediately go to Wayne Manor. He stalks it first. And what does he find? Tim is apparently shadow controlling a major mafia in Gotham.

As some convulted plan to dethrone Tim from Robin (and also because Damian is not aware that shadow controlling a gang is against Bruce's rules [like how he doesn't know murder is a big no no]), Damian decides to infiltrate Jason's gang. At first it's rocky cause Jason doesn't want kids in that line of work, but Damian being Talia's kid (and the chance to provide Damian a better childhood) has Jason and Dick adopting the child. They try to keep the runt out of the work as much as possible.

They all (minus Tim) grow closer until one night Damian overhears Jason lamenting to Dick about how the Joker is still alive. Jason hates that his father never avenged him.

Damian decides to fix that by killing the Joker.

When Dick and Jason confront Damian about this, he reveals Tim is controlling their entire mafia from the shadows.

[cheetahsprints]

Prompt #10: Ghost

Inspired by this post

• Sonadow Prompt Fills •

• Ambience Music •

Content Warning: Implied Major Character Death (of a sort)

*

Green Hill is restored, but Shadow feels like the luscious greenery all around and clear blue skies above are mocking him. He skates from one end to the other day to day without aim. He does what he can to watch over the island, the planet, its life. He promised.

He promised Sonic he would take care of them.

Time blends into a shapeless, colorless blur, empty and sullen. The days turn to weeks that lack a certain spirit. They no longer experience intense, fiery rivalry between a remarkable pair of hedgehogs. Sonic’s friends try to go on to the best of their ability. Tails hasn’t given up, not entirely, but Shadow can see that it’s wearing him down. He practically has to bully the young fox into eating and sleeping some days.

Shadow should tell them that he’s still… seeing him.

He shouldn’t burden them.

They would just think he is insane.

Shadow uses Chaos Control each night to secretly enter the locked up obscured structure where the Paradox Prism is contained. He has to be near it. The night that he found out, he told Sonic’s friends… but for some reason it hadn’t worked for them. Though they didn’t express it in so many words, he could tell they believed he was just dreaming.

Maybe he is deluding himself, maybe has cracked.

It doesn’t stop him.

He rolls into a tight ball and clears his mind. The Prism energy seems to prickle through his quills. It took him a while to actually calm himself enough to sleep after the first time, where he had been unusually exhausted and had practically passed out. He exercises extensively, then drinks relaxing tea before evening. He avoids caffeine and sugar, and he meditates whenever he gets the chance.

The void materializes before him, and he rockets toward Sonic’s usual spot. Sonic immediately perks and smiles when he notices Shadow’s arrival.

“Shadow!”

The enthusiastic cry of his name is pleasing for his ears.

If Shadow doesn’t examine him too closely, Sonic looks completely solid. He isn’t a dream, he isn’t a ghost. He’s real, and Shadow can definitely still smell a mix of coconut and sweat on him. He would be able to hear his heartbeat and feel his breath, if he tried.

Shadow lands next to him at a reasonable distance. He can’t risk brushing against him… because he has an aversion, he tells himself, per usual. No other reason. Nevermind that touching Sonic recently became easier… before the disaster found its costly conclusion.

“Sonic.”

“How is everyone?”

“Well enough. I made sure Tails took a break.”

“Good… good.” Sonic taps his foot. “Um… so what have you been up to? Besides keeping an eye on the team.”

“Your team,” Shadow points out. “I… just run around, I guess, or brood, as you’d call it.”

Sonic scoffs and wags a disapproving finger at him. “Mister Diligence. Workaholic. Don’t you have any hobbies? I know you like music. Make sure to jam to your favorite tunes. Wait, I know! You should try gardening. You could grow your own veggies or flowers and bring me some - uh, forget that last part. Hey, you’ve been eating plenty of chili dogs for me, right?”

“When I can tolerate them,” Shadow admits.

“I’ll take it!” After a moment of silence, Sonic says in a low, gentle tone, “Thanks.”

Shadow briefly pushes his black and red quills back. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

“Not just for… but for visiting me as well.”

Dread sinks into his stomach as Sonic darts forward and tries to hug him. He slips through Shadow, and Shadow shivers. It doesn’t feel like anything, and that’s what makes his fur stand on end. Sonic gives an awkward chuckle.

“Sonic…”

“I - man - I forgot.”

“You’re not real,” Shadow mumbles. “You’re a figment of my mind to make me feel like… I’m honoring your memory. Like I didn’t fucking fail.”

Sonic crosses his arms and frowns. Shadow hates it… he wants him to only smile… Why’d he have to ruin that? Shadow looks away. Whatever fucked up part of his brain keeps this charade going, it doesn’t allow him to manipulate Sonic to his preferences. Sonic’s pose is too reminiscent of his own tendencies.

It makes him feel even more like this specter is simply an extension of his broken mind and aching heart. It’s a twisted reflection created by his guilty subconscious to torture him.

“That’s not true. I am real. Don’t be so hard on yourself, asshole. You didn’t fail, you did your best. It’s not your fault! It was my choice. What happened, happened. You could’ve just… not bothered. Left the island or something. You’re a good friend, Shadow.”

“Friend… I’m no friend.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Sonic places a hand on his hip. “We’re pals. Buddies. Amigos. Good old regular chums. Confidants, even. Face it. After everything, you can’t deny that.”

Shadow roars, “You’re dead or worse, a ghost trapped in an eternal void, you damn self-sacrificing hedgehog! I didn’t give myself a chance to appreciate what I had, what we could’ve had, until you were gone!!!”

You’re one to talk about sacrifice, a little voice in the back of his mind reminds him.

Sonic’s ears droop, and he flinches back. Shadow balls his hands into fists, wishing he could dig his claws into his palms through the gloves. He wishes he could actually hug Sonic, or at least punch him, whether he’s actually there or not. He wishes, not for the first time, to trade places with someone he loved.

He wants to remove his inhibitors and Chaos Blast this stupid, horrible limbo until he is totally drained.

“Never too late,” Sonic whispers, looking down and scuffing his shoe on the rock. “Plus it’s not so bad here really, since I get to see you, and I have plenty of time to think about how to be a better friend to everyone when I get back.”

“But it is. It is too late. It’s too late for me to love you like I should have,” Shadow insists.

Sonic’s head jerks up and his mouth falls open, his eyes searching Shadow’s hard stare. Shadow closes his eyes as Sonic steps forward, reaching as though to rest a hand on his face.

Shadow wakes up, chilly and alone in the dark cave. The world may not have truly ended, but it feels even more like a ghost in the shadows than it had when the Prism was shattered. Shadow and Sonic were shattered in its place, in different ways, instead.

*

[manicmanuscription]

Unapologetically Selfish

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Illusions to smut, fluff, gaslighting(?) not proofread bc author is lazy

Word Count: 2334

Summary: When both of your jobs have your time with each other limited, Azriel makes the decision to keep you all to himself. Content to let his family think he'd finally lost his mind but an accidental meeting has the IC realizing Azriel truly does have a secret mate.

you can read part two here

acotar masterlist | main masterlist

divider by @cafekitsune

Cassian was…concerned, to say the least. 

He fully believed Azriel was loosing his god damned mind and with each passing day this assumption only worsened. 

It all started three years ago, Azriel becoming almost scarce from time to time. With no explanation other than vague answers. It didn’t happen a lot and Cassian respected his brother needed his space some time, it wasn’t unusual for the Spymaster to slink off in the shadows. But then after a year his disappearance’s become nearly constant. 

Cassian and Rhysand finally cornered their brother after they demanded he show up for a monthly family dinner, the whole inner circle was getting concerned and decided that the two Illyrians were the best equipped to deal with this. 

Azriel had blankly looked at his brothers a small furrow in his brow as he sat through their interrogation. He hadn’t even realized he had been gone that much to be frank. Just… after meeting you? He wanted to spend every second of the day by your side, the mating bond simply not enough for how deeply he felt for you. 

After realizing the worry he was causing his family he pursed his lips and quite reluctantly told his brothers that he had found his mate. 

The look on the High Lord and General of the Night Court was absolutely priceless, their mouths hanging open as a stunned expression took over their usually stoic faces. 

Not even five minutes later the whole family knew, everyone pestering him for information like when they would get to meet you, what your name was, what did you do, how did you meet, where have you been this entire time. 

“Wait!” Feyre said as Mor had opened another bottle of wine and started excitedly pouring everyone a glass. “Is that why you asked Rhysand for a few months off?” 

The whole Inner Circle froze at Azriel’s simple nod. They all knew the implications of what that meant and Cassian was the first to speak. “You had a mating ceremony and none of us knew?” His voice thick with emotion. 

Azriel struggled with his next words. His heart a lump in his throat. He was never a talkative male, especially not about his feelings. 

“I-“ 

The truth was he was an incredibly selfish bastard. Of course he wanted his family to meet you, you were the most radiant person he ever had the pleasure of breathing next to and that was precisely the problem. He wanted you all to himself. 

“I’m sorry.” He said clearing his throat. “Would you like to meet her?” The house erupted with enthusiastic yes’s as his words seemed to smooth over the transgression. 

Eight months after that conversation, and after 6 canceled dinners 2 rescheduled lunches and just a straight up no show for drinks, The Night Court decided Azriel was…delusional. 

Of course they came to this conclusion delicately and most definitely amongst themselves after long and heated conversations.

Once again Rhysand and Cassian were sent to talk with the elusive spymaster and why he would make up such a lie. 

Azriel just refused their nonsense once again. He had told them the truth and it was their fault they didn’t believe it. He had barely seen you these last couple months as you had been working on the Continent and he had other tasks assigned to him. He told his brothers this and they just gave each other a look, one he simply ignored. 

Soon…the teasing started. Once the Inner Circle realized Azriel was doubling down on his ‘delusions’ Cassian promptly started joking about the fake wife and mate Azriel had. A few offhand comments here and there that become more and more frequent, of course Nesta and the rest of their family told him to shut up, but for Cassian it came from a place of love. 

He had tried talking to his brother, tried helping him through this. Cassian’s mind spinning, he truly thought Azriel had finally cracked, that his dearest brother was so alone he had made up an imaginary mate just to prove something. 

So his teasing was his last ditch effort, the final playing card to hopefully get Azriel to just admit he lied, than Cassian would take him out for drinks and be his shoulder to cry on for whatever issue that was obviously going on. 

Except it didn’t work. Azriel just grew more and more distant, if he wasn’t working he was simply…elsewhere. The last time Azriel ever made an effort to be around his family was when he suddenly up and decided to move out of the House of Wind, throwing a small house party for a beautiful cottage he purchased along the coast. 

Rhysand had to force Azriel to come to family dinners, in which sometimes the Spymaster simply never showed up and when he did his mind seemed distant and detached. 

Everyone was getting increasingly worried, especially Cassian. Azriel was incredibly important to him and although Cassian would never admit this, he felt responsible for him. Sometimes his brother didn’t know how to take care of himself, especially emotionally and whenever that happened The General had always been there, happily helping him whenever he could, making sure his heart and mind were protected, fighting off Azriel’s demons when he couldn’t do it himself. 

And he had never seen his brother so…aloof, distant and he had never thought his mental health would have gotten so bad he had made up a mate. So finally, Cassian and Rhys decided it was time for an intervention. 

———

Azriel.. for the life of him could not wait for his brothers to get out of his house. 

He loved them dearly and he knew he had been acting stranger and stranger these last few years, he knew his family thought he was certifiably insane and that great Shadowsinger of the fearsome Night Court had finally snapped and of course he cared, he knew that his actions had his brothers spinning and Nesta’s newly revealed pregnancy didn’t help Cassian’s grey hairs, and he had tried countless times to explain to them that he wasn’t insane, that you were real and beautiful and had utterly and completely captured his heart. 

But without the proof, his brothers simply didn’t believe him. Azriel wanted you to meet his family, gods did he want you too. But his time with you was becoming more and more rare. 

If you weren’t on the Continent you were with Thesan and if you weren’t with Thesan you were with Helion, leading all sorts of medical discoveries he simply could not comprehend no matter how hard he tried, this new medical project you were taking on meant that he hadn’t seen you in months, his body and heart ached for you and he truly had never felt such longing in his life. His brother’s insisting that he was insane certainly wasn’t helping his heartache.  

“I…” Cassian swallowed. “I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore Az.” He whispered finally and Azriel truly felt the guilt he had been burying down hit him as if he had been struck at the look on his brother’s face. 

He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately couldn’t find the words as Cassian left his home office, his footsteps echoing the utter doom and gloom he felt not only at your disappearance but at the raging guilt he felt for putting everyone in this situation in the first place. 

“Please…Just talk to us Az-“ Rhys started but he put his hand up. “Just, Go..please, we can talk about this later.” Azriel pleaded and Rhysand must’ve seen the look on his face so he pursed his lips and followed the General out of his brother’s home. 

———

You couldn’t wait to get home not only to the house you’d built together but to your mate. Every fiber of your being ached for him, and it physically hurt to be away from him for so long. 

So finally you had announced to your team and your dearest friend Thesan you were taking a well deserved break and decided to surprise your mate. 

You desperately needed to see him, hold him, breathe him in. Your soul was raging for the distance to finally be closed and so you planned a surprise trip, so you shut off the bond to him, which had sent him into a wild panic but you soothed it temporarily saying you were busy and needed to focus. But really you knew you couldn’t hide the excitement at finally arriving home, your chest was alight with nerves as you opened the door to your house, your fingers nervously playing with your hair as you couldn’t stop the giddy smile from erupting across your face. 

This was space was yours. For the first time you had not just a house but a home, and a lot of your tension eased at finally stepping into the carefully curated space you and Azriel had created. You could smell him everywhere, and it insantly made your frayed nerves ease, your body already relaxing at just finally being home.

It had been six long months without touching him, seeing him, with only fleeting reassurance and love sent down the bond and you needed him. Now. 

You were so excited you didn’t see the tall and bulky Illyrian warrior standing in your hallway staring at you as if he had seen a ghost. You crashed into a hard wall of muscle in your haste to get to your mate and immediately pulled back. 

“Your…not Azriel.” You stated, looking him up and down with a small frown etched on your face, something primal recoiling at the thought of another male in your house.

“Neither are you?” The male stated his voice with a slight edge, eyes wary as he looked you up and down, as if you were a threat. His fingers twitching and you immediately pulled away from him noticing his dangerous expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here? I think the question is what the hell are you doing in my house.” You asked stepping another few paces away from him but still crossing your arms over your chest as you looked him up and down. He wore red siphons on his hands and his long brown hair had a few greys all tied together in a low bun. Cassian, then you assumed.

“Wait..I’m sorry what?” The male sputtered, his vicious stance immediately softening into one of shock. You didn’t notice the High Lord standing behind him with an equal look of surprise as their brains finally processed the information. Their brother hadn’t cracked, he had been telling the truth about all of it. The traveling, the courtship, that he was in fact married and mated. 

Shadows twisted in the corner before scurrying off down the hall and in just a few seconds you were being tugged into a warm chest and spun around as scarred hands possessively held your waist. You giggled at the touch, the bond in your chest thrummed with light as peace finally settled in your bones. Home you were finally home. He set you down and you leaned up pulling his face close to yours as you peppered him with kisses. Gods you had missed him so much. He smiled softly at your touch shadows almost completely engulfing you as they too missed you. 

“Hey, Hello? We’re still here.” Cassian snapped his fingers to get your attention and Azriel growled darkly at the intrusion. You had been gone for six months you were his not his family’s. It wasn’t just a want that made him grip you even tighter at the thought of his family taking away your time with their endless interrogation no, no it was a need that thrummed throughout the fiber of his being. He needed to mark you up and hold you close and worship every single inch of skin on your body. He needed to completely immerse himself into you. 

Rhysand must have seen the look on his face or heard something in his mind because he gently gripped Cassian’s shoulders. “If you neither of you show up to breakfast tomorrow we will hunt you down or simply show up here.” It was said in a playful tone but Azriel understood the threat behind it, he was going to have to finally introduce you whether he liked it or not and with a simple wave of agreement from Azriel the two males winnowed away and he pressed himself further against you. Breathing in your scent all his stress and worry melting away as he did. The bond had been pulled so taut with the distance it had ached with the worst pain possible. 

“I missed you.” You breathed out softly, he grunted in agreement. “Let me take you far away from here and show you how much I missed you.” He whispered as he pressed soft kisses down the side of your neck, you giggled and his heart beat faster at the noise. “You are not getting of that easy again Spymaster.” You spoke with another laugh. His hands tightened even further on your hips with frustration, one of them sliding up to tangle in your hair as he kissed you, his tongue sliding in your lips claiming your’s with a deep desire that settled in his bones. You’d leave again soon and now he’d have to share your limited time with someone else. He tugged at your bottom lip possessively at the thought and lifted you in his arms your legs straddling as his waist as he walked you to your bedroom to show you exactly how much you were his. 

————— 

The Inner Circle anxiously awaited The General and High Lord’s arrival, waiting on any news of Azriel’s mental health when they finally winnowed in. Shocked grins overtaking their expressions. There was a beat of silence before Cassian spoke up. “You’ll never guess what the actual fuck just happened.” 

you can read part two here

[honestcompassion]

may you do a shadow milk cookie version of the yandere headcanons?

𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒. having strong feelings of romantic love

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 yandere shadow milk cookie headcanons

warnings: obsessive and possessive behavior, physical abuse, psychological abuse, stalking, manipulation, brainwashing, implied forced relationship, potentially ooc

A/N: Of course I can! When Shadow Milk Cookie first debuted, I fell in love instantly. There’s just something about theatrical villains, especially the eccentric jester types, that captivates me. One order of yandere Shadow Milk Cookie headcanons, coming right up!

Shadow Milk Cookie as a yandere would be like a dark chocolate truffle—rich, alluring, and just a little bitter beneath the sweetness. His charm wraps around you like velvet, a perfect blend of theatrical flair and quiet intensity that feels as intoxicating as it is unsettling. His love is a shadowed waltz, beautiful and haunting, leaving you unsure whether to be captivated or cautious. It’s the kind of affection that feels like a dream you can’t wake up from—both a sweet escape and a lingering trap. You’ll find yourself drawn into his world of dramatic devotion, but beneath the warmth of his smiles lies a possessive hunger he can’t quite hide.

He thrives on grand, theatrical gestures to express his devotion, leaving you gifts with cryptic yet poetic notes signed with an elegant flourish. These gestures range from elaborate displays of affection—like lighting up a dark field with glowing lanterns in your honor—to eerily personal offerings, such as items he’s "acquired" from your daily life. Every act is calculated to make you feel like you’re at the center of his universe, even as it slowly closes in around you.

He views your relationship as a masterpiece, with himself as the playwright and you as the star. Shadow Milk Cookie meticulously plans each moment to keep you enchanted, ensuring you never have a reason to stray from him. If you ever seem distant, he’ll orchestrate events that pull you back into his embrace, from accidental encounters to dramatic rescues that only he could have staged.

Shadow Milk Cookie takes his role as the playwright of your love story to sinister extremes, orchestrating every detail of your life to align with his vision. His stalking is meticulous; he knows your schedule, preferences, and even your deepest fears. He uses this information not just to keep you under his watchful eye, but also to manipulate your circumstances, ensuring that you rely on him entirely. Whether it’s sabotaging relationships, creating accidents, or isolating you from friends and family, everything he does is designed to sever your ties to the outside world.

Anything proving to be a psychological feat are one of his most insidious tools. Shadow Milk Cookie weaves a narrative that convinces you the world outside is full of dangers and betrayals, leaving him as the only one you can trust. He’ll gaslight you into questioning your own memories and perceptions, using his silver tongue to twist reality into something that serves his control. "Surely, you don't actually believe their words? Ignorance is a sin only a fool can commit, dearest!"

His manipulation extends to planting seeds of doubt and fear in your mind. He’ll isolate you with subtle cruelty, belittling your connections to others or hinting that they harbor ill intentions toward you. At the same time, he showers you with affection, creating a jarring cycle of emotional highs and lows that leaves you dependent on his approval and affection.

Shadow Milk Cookie’s possessiveness becomes physical when his control is threatened. If you attempt to defy or leave him, his charm will shatter, replaced by a terrifying intensity. He won’t hesitate to use force to keep you by his side, gripping your wrist hard enough to leave bruises or blocking your path with an unsettling grin. "This was not part of the script, silly. You should know better than to anger me."

The brainwashing is relentless, as Shadow Milk Cookie works tirelessly to mold your thoughts and feelings to fit his narrative. He’ll whisper sweet lies in your ear, repeating them until they feel like truth. Over time, you’ll find yourself questioning your own desires and autonomy, your sense of self eroding under his constant pressure.

Any attempts to resist the relationship are met with overwhelming force, both emotional and physical. He’ll guilt you into compliance, framing your resistance as a betrayal of his devotion. "I've given you everything, and yet you still pull away. Why would you hurt me like this?" If guilt doesn’t work, his darker side emerges, and he’ll ensure you understand the consequences of disobedience.

Shadow Milk Cookie’s forced relationship is a gilded cage, beautiful on the surface but suffocating beneath. He’ll use every tool at his disposal to keep you trapped, from fabricated crises that require his intervention to veiled threats disguised as declarations of love.

Even as his behavior grows more extreme, Shadow Milk Cookie maintains the facade of a devoted lover, his gestures of affection as grand and theatrical as ever. He genuinely believes his actions are justified, that his obsessive, controlling love is the only way to keep you safe and happy. To him, your relationship is a story of fate and devotion, and he won’t let you rewrite the ending.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a sickly pale light across the room as Shadow Milk Cookie paced back and forth, his hands tightly gripping the edge of his staff. His usually 'composed' demeanor was shattered, his face twisted with a mixture of rage and disbelief. His eyes, once full of affection, now burned with something darker—a madness that had been building for far too long.

"You insolent fool," he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl. "How dare you? How could you…"

His steps quickened, his once graceful movements that he kept up in front of you for so long becoming erratic as the fury inside him bubbled to the surface. His calloused fingers twitched as he thought about the escape. Your escape. The idea that you, his beloved, could leave him—leave him—was something he couldn’t fathom.

The room around him seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as his mind spiraled. Every crack in the floorboards, every rustle of the curtains, every shift in the shadows—it all felt like a reminder of your betrayal.

"You think you can escape, silly?" he snarled, his voice rising with each word. His normally playful tone had vanished, replaced by a harshness that echoed through the empty room. "You think you can get away from me? From me?"

His hands shook as he slammed his staff against the ground, the sharp crack splitting the silence like thunder. The smile that usually lingered on his lips was gone, replaced by a grimace of pure, unfiltered anger. His heart raced as the image of you slipping away haunted his every thought.

"You silly little pest," he hissed, his words a venomous whisper. "Running from me? After all I’ve done? I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me? You think anyone else could ever love you the way I do?"

He turned toward the window, the glass reflecting his distorted expression—twisted, obsessed, consumed. His breath came in ragged gasps as he gripped the edge of the windowsill, staring out into the night as if willing you to appear in front of him. The world beyond the walls was a blur, a fading memory he couldn’t bear to face.

"You can’t run from me. I won’t let you," he whispered, his voice soft but laced with a chilling promise. He slowly turned back toward the center of the room, the room where he had kept you, the room where you belonged. "You’re mine, and you will stay mine, no matter how many foolish attempts you make."

A low, manic laugh bubbled from his throat, sharp and cold. "Stupid puppet, always trying to run away," he muttered. "I'll break you down if I have to. I’ll remake you. You’ll beg me to stop." He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild, pupils dilated. His breathing became erratic as he stood, still trembling, his body humming with an anxious energy.

The thought of you—of you being free—drove him to the edge. Every second that passed without you in his arms felt like a lifetime. He couldn't fathom it. You, slipping away, making your own choices. You, defying him. His chest tightened with panic and rage.

"You’ll never escape me. Never," he snarled. "And when I find you, when I pull you back into my arms, you’ll understand. You’ll thank me for making you stay."

His eyes glazed over as he imagined it—the moment when you finally realized that the only way to feel safe, to feel loved, was in his arms. His arms, where you belonged. He could already feel the rush of relief coursing through him, the sweet, intoxicating satisfaction of having you back under his control.

He turned away, his fingers twitching, a smile finally creeping back onto his lips. It was small, but it was there—twisted, deluded, and soaked in madness.

"I'll have you back. You’ll come to me, silly little thing," he whispered, his voice slipping into a dangerous calm. "And I will make sure you never forget how much I love you."

You're going to wish you never met him after he's done with you.

[twilightsumu]

Taking What’s Not Yours 

Pairing: S. Gojo x Fem!Reader 

Synopsis: Based on the song Taking What’s Not Yours by TV Girl! Satoru is obsessed and you're moving on. 

Warnings/genre: nsfw, smut (mdni), riding, Gojo being obsessive, crude language, cursing, angst/no comfort, no happy ending. 

a/n: Congrats on 2k my sweetest @prosypepper! This just came together so easily and I couldn’t be happier with it! My first Gojo piece ugh, I hope you guys enjoy it! :) 

Word Count: 1.7K

The sun is streaming in just the perfect amount — it’s not bothersome and quite warm. As warm as the empty space next to him. The smell of your vanilla perfume is still floating above his head. He wishes he can breathe in, so hard, that it stays etched into his nostrils. 

His eyes are still closed, his hands roaming the empty side of the bed. Gripping and grasping the warmth, at the reminder. His fingers carefully, but casually searching and prodding like the end of a fishermen’s line. And like a fish to a worm, he wants to gaslight himself and believe he felt a tug. 

His cerulean eyes shoot open battling the brightness with the sun. His hand grabs the culprit of the pretend tug — your earring. The one he gifted you for your nine month anniversary, two hundred seventy six days ago. 

He moves to sit up, the sheet flowing with his naked waist. The headboard is cold and harsh as he leans on it — sleep kneading into the muscles of his back. He still smells your vanilla perfume. 

He studies the diamond earring, twisting it in his index finger and thumb. The sunlight flinging off it and creating pretty kaleidoscope shadows on the blinds in front of him. 

He lets out a sigh — he tries to have it come out smooth and content, as if you’re behind the door listening. Watching him. But it’s rushed and desperate — the true emotions that’s rushing through the sunbeams and into the bed, crowding your spot. And you’re not here anyways.

He turns away from looking at how the sun kisses your side and turns to his bedside table. He closes his eyes, his hand not gripping the earring on the knob of the little dresser.

He knows what’s in there. No one else does. Only the little parts you leave for him to hold on too. Like the trinkets a child keeps on their bedroom desk over the years. They look at them with love and governance as the days and years pass on. Ignoring the dust, sometimes forgetting the stories that come with it.

He slides the drawer open — a pair of your panties, those red lace ones that he knew that you knew he loved. A hair tie, some strands of hair tied into it. A copy of the book you pretend you read but you were using it as a conversation starter the first time you guys met — neither of you caring about whatever the fuck Thomas Pynchon was writing about in Gravity’s Rainbow. Your glasses case, you actually texted him about it after the breakup and he lied saying he didn’t know where it was. 

Whenever you come back, he’ll be afraid you’ll finally snoop through these little parts of him and see what he’s been holding close to his chest. And now, the earring that’s dropping its ways and getting accustomed with the other items of this little shrine he’s made just for you. 

In case you wanted to come back. Or not, he’ll have a place to look for you — right here in the privacy of his room with the sun shining and remnants from last night still treading softly on his body.

You: Hey! Did I happen to leave an earring at your place? 

Gojo: Not sure. I’ll look for it! 

You: Thank you! No big deal if you don’t find it :)

You: Hope you’re good 

Gojo: Perfect actually :) 

You’re moving on top of him — your hands on his chest, your hair covering the side of your face, your mouth open — letting out the softest hum of a moan. The head of his aching hard dick sliding between your wet folds, stretching you just right. Your pussy clenching on to him like it is trying to keep you two connected, taking away Satoru’s job. 

You let out a louder moan that dances along with his strangled groan. The smell of vanilla and sweat filling the air. He thinks he hears the contents of his shrine drawer ratting a bit. He could even taste the desperation that is coating his tongue dry. 

You roll your hips once, teasingly. He gives you a sharp inhale and tight grip of your hip in return. 

“Toru,” you whine. Your eyes shutting shut. Your hands pressing into his chest a little harder. The sounds of your slick coursing the room as you grind your hips down on him harder, finally meeting the base of his cock. His ears prick at the sound of his nickname comfortably tumbling from your plump lips. 

He wants to throw his head back in pleasure. He wants to be one hundred percent in this moment. God, he wants to so badly. But the new shiny necklace delicately placed on your chest, swaying and bouncing everytime your hips leave and meet him. The chain swinging like a pendulum right in front of his face. It is the only thing he could pay attention to right now. 

You’re moving slow and deliberate — like you’re making sure every slow motion gives him full access to this foreign object on you. Each drag and lift of your hips made him twitch inside of you. His fingers digging bruises into your skin — out of pleasure and the nagging reminder of the new piece of jewelry. 

The moonlight harshly shines on it, making sure he sees it. He thinks he could take out a magnifying glass and figure out just what this necklace means to you right now. He’ll ignore your questions and stares. Like how you ignore his feelings when you come over just for sex. 

He wonders if he could quietly slip it off later and bring it to its home — along with the other little bits of you. The same ones rattling in the drawer to the side of your connecting bodies. 

Your tits bounce with every drop, the way your thighs clench around him, the way you arch just slightly when he hits that soft spot inside you — he’s cataloging it all. Like the necklace is putting him in a trance and reminding him that this shouldn’t be happening. So he has to remember, he has to take notes. 

You’re not his. 

But he’s yours. You just don’t want him to be. 

You ride him harder and he finally shakes off the necklace from the forefront of his brain and meets you halfway, hips lifting to thrust up into you with reckless force. His hand moves from your thigh to the curve of your ass, gripping roughly, pulling you down on him even deeper. It’s messy, frantic now — like neither of you wants to take it slow anymore. No more pretending. He’s fucking you for an answer and you’re fucking for your own pleasure. 

Sweat beads at your temple, pressing your baby hairs to your forehead. The slap of skin-on-skin fills the room, along with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies connecting just right. His name spills out of your mouth like a broken prayer every time you slam down onto him. Maybe the necklace has put you in trance as well. 

A shaken hand drifts upward — not to stop you, not to guide you — just to touch. He wants to skim your collarbone, flutter his thumb on the scar on your shoulder blade. Instead, his fingertips ghost over the chain as you fuck yourself on his cock like you don’t care what it means. Like it’s just sex.

It’s not just sex to him. 

Like that isn’t just a necklace to him. 

Or those little trinkets aren’t just trinkets, but actual threads that keep you knitted to him without you knowing. 

He closes his eyes, pulling you down harder. Skin to skin. The necklace pressing into his chest as well. 

If he can’t take it physically, he’ll make sure he’ll feel it. So that maybe you guys could compare later down the road. 

It’s late evening. The sun is sinking down below the trees, like it’s trying to hide away from the stares of everyone around it.

Satoru is sitting on his couch, not in comfort. He can’t really say how he’s feeling, he just is not comfortable. 

Especially as he stares down at the box of his own trinkets in front of him. 

A T-shirt of his. 

Sunglasses he only wore on dates with you. 

His favorite Digimon shirt. 

Three different blindfolds. 

His high school yearbook. 

And to laugh at him as he stares in despair — a framed picture of you two. 

Which was taken three hundred twenty two days ago. 

You dropped off these things earlier. A harsh, but gentle reminder (you do everything gently and he wonders how) that you’re not together anymore. 

That his things should not be parading around your space. Your face was soft, your lips curled in a slight pout. Your eyes skipping from his and looking behind him into his house.

He wondered if you developed some super power that allows you to see through things. He quickly shifts in front of your gaze. 

“Do you have anything of mine?” You whisper. And he wants to bring you closer, make you say it again. He wonders if he’ll lie. 

“No.” He stated plainly. He didn’t lie, those things apart of his shrine for you is his. His heart beating so fucking fast, he knows that you hear it. Maybe you also received super developed ears that could hear his heavy breathing, his heart beating, the shrine shaking at this very moment. 

Maybe you heard the exact moment when you knew this would be over. Leaving him in the silence that comes when the love of your life moves on. The silence that only people who are stupid enough to believe in forever hear — as it drifts from the trees of the days that you knew the other person was in love and the quiet whispers of broken promises after sex. 

An unbearable silence. 

“Okay,” you stare up at him. “Well, if anything comes up. Just send it to me. Yeah?” 

Satoru stares at you. Wondering if he could send his heart in the postal — would it be too bloody? 

He just nods, wanting you to leave. He’ll look at the framed picture. Feel the earring. Maybe sniff those panties. 

“Bye Satoru,” you huff. Turning away, the only person the sun isn’t afraid to have it watch it's ever slowing descent into the dark. 

And you walk off, taking his heart with you. Shoving it in the pocket of jeans he wished you left here. 

Both of you being little thieves in the name of heartbreak. 

© twilightsumu. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or plagiarise my work.

[echantedtoon]

Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x Pregnant Reader

Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x Pregnant Reader both pre and post corruption. Idk how timelines work lol. Warnings for your usual yandere themes, pregnancy, obsessive behavior, etc.

-You were one of the few cookies working for Blueberry Yogurt Cookie the Fount of Knowledge and his ever growing spread of knowledge. After all with so much information to convert into books and with the new school being constructed, he was going to need some help. So there he was just walking by the scholars, tons of them working on writing his own notes and large pamphlets and converting them into physical books, running back and forth with ink or paper, or delivering hardback book covers for the newly printed pages.

-Until one of them bumps into him nearly toppling over the large pile of papers in her arms all about the Earthbread's native plants. "Careful there! You ..nearly.." Everything else does on his tongue once he sees your beautiful face smile up at him. "My apologies, Fount. Excuse me, I have to deliver this to the second floor." He stared awestruck as you go eyes wide and jaw dropped.

-He's immediately smitten by you and Tries to learn everything about you. How long you were here, your family, what your hobbies were- He's the Fount of Knowledge. Learning information about anything abd everything was easy for him. So he was absolutely prepared for when he eventually gathered up the courage to ask you out and to his delight, you said yes.

-Being the wife of the Fount of Knowledge lead you to live quite the comfortable life, even though you insisted on still working despite Blueberry Yogurt Cookie insisting you didn't have to and could just let him take care of you. Don't you want him to take care of you? But he says nothing against it, though suspiciously you find yourself working closely to his office and he seems to (conveniently) pop up wherever you are after a while although at the time you didn't think anything of it

-However as time goes by things start to subtly shift within the world. Burning Spice Cookie is the first one to be corrupted spreading chaos and destruction to a third of the continent. Many fled in refuge from his lands seeking shelter in the protection of the other Pillars. It brings shock to your husband who seemed very shocked but not overly worried. "Keeping calm in any situation is vital. We mustn't let fear consume us."

-That's the first time you feel something shift. You suddenly find yourself checked on lots more by him and being assigned to your husband's side much more frequently. Too frequent to be a coincidence anymore. When you bring it up to him he looks extremely guilty. "Im sorry. I'm just worried about you is all. Are you angry with me?" This is the first time he's dipping into gaslighting but he himself doesn't realize it yet, only thinking he's being cautious.

-More and more cruelty struck the land. Mystic Flour Cookie was the second that fell followed by Silent Salt Cookie which meant more cookies flowed to the Fount and Eternal Sugar's territories for refuge and protection. You could see the strain suddenly forced upon your husband. The sleepless nights answering the countless questions cookies kept throwing at him. DEMANDING to know what was happening and why! Demanding he do something to stop the former pillars' rampage.

-You were there next to him as he dug through book after book continuously seeking answers to why this was happening. Constantly sending messangers to Eternal Sugar to converse and make sure she wasn't going down that path. Trying so hard to provide for the hundreds of understandably angry and frightened cookies he wasn't prepared for. Spent so many nights alone as he was suddenly so busy. Never spending time with you anymore unless you were helping him. Even then you both barely got time for one another.

-It left you staring at the ring on your finger every night wondering if your marriage was worth it anymore. You didn't blame Blueberry Yogurt Cookie for the responsibilities or his stress, but it's been almost two years now with each Pillar slowly corrupting one by one and he still barely spends time with you. It only gets worse more complicated as time drags on. One day you get sick. And then the next. And the next. Getting sick during the early mornings and your stomach starting to hate certain foods. This finally makes him pause his stress to help you.

-"My lady, you're pregnant." The expert healer Blueberry Yogurt Cookie hired had took one minute looking at you before announcing the devastating shocking news. The feeling is shock before immediately your husband is hugging you full of joy he hadn't felt in ages. "Praise Dough!! The Witches have blessed us with a child!! I love you so much, Pudding Cup!" You however aren't so sure about this. "Is this really a good idea? With everything going on maybe having a baby isn't the best idea right now." "It's a miracle, a blessing, a beacon of hope in these trying times! Don't fret, Love. Everything will be fine."

-Everything is not fine. Nothing changes. Despite his promises he's still away. You wake up to him gone bed cold left to handle the nauseating feelings and dizzy spells and aches that you never wanted. Your own sleep schedule was a wreck and you were barely able to get work done. His solution to your pleas was to reassign all your work and order you constant bed rest. Now the one thing distracting you from your misery was gone. Leaving you aimlessly wallowing and wondering looking like you were miserable and you were without the help.

-"You said you were going to take the day off." You stared at him throat sore from excuse the pun toss cookie after your body decided you could eat your favorite oatmeal anymore. "Im sorry, Cupcake. I really am. But Im having a problem with resources getting scarce and I need to make sure my cookies don't starve." "Are you free? I think I need-" "Whatever it is, have Black Sapphire Cookie assist you. I need to reevaluate these blue prints." ".....You promised to help pick out things for the nursery with me." "I already did." He smiles at you briefly from his stacks of papers looking frazzled. "It's all set up with a crib and toys- You'll love the stars I had painted on the ceiling! They're realistic!" You had already left.

-You started avoiding him from that moment on. It wasn't hard. He was always so busy with work and you were already trying to push through this. Until you couldn't take it anymore. The final straw was when he finally bothered to show up. Eternal Sugar had finally succumbed to the corruption and he wanted to inform you. That meant the cookies coming to him would increase. The stress would only be worse than it was. "What are you going to do about it?" His stare was..oddly calm and devoid of something but he inhaled. "I don't know, but I want to try and sort out the worst parts of it before little Blueberry Milkshake arrives." You paused looking at him. "Who?" "Our little star of course." "...You...already decided a name?" "It works for a boy or girl! Do you like it?"

-You already decided that you were done with this entire thing right then and there. He may be a good person but clearly this marriage was a huge mistake. You weren't happy being stuck in a marriage that only he was happy in. So...you made preparations to leave. It wasn't hard putting together an official annulment document together being a scholar under the Fount of Knowledge. You had barely any joint assets save for the baby you already planned on giving up. There's no way either of you were ready for a kid. It was easy for you to slip it in with other documents he signed on a daily basis. It was already in order with your signature. All it needed was for him to sign it himself. He signed document after document all the time. He wouldn't notice.

-Unfortunately you underestimated that part of him. He did read what he was signing. The Fount of Knowledge wasn't foolish enough to make that mistake. Blue hands froze as eyes stared down at the paper. Word after word echoing in his mind and breaking him apart from the inside out when. His jam quaking like an earthquake swallowed him whole as one signature he recognized caught his eye. And all was silent within the estate.

-In fact no one had seen Blueberry Yogurt Cookie in a week not that you minded. You were busy readying to leave secretly packing a hidden bag under your bed and secretly planning out your escape route. You only stayed to sort out a few last things before leaving, spending a few final days with friends and family just hanging out. Constantly you were being pestered by cookies asking or demanding to know where Blueberry Yogurt Cookie was. Each time you only looked at them tired of dealing with this anymore. "Do I look like I know where he is?! If I knew I'd tell him to stop leaving his wife sleeping alone at night!!" Although you were sure you weren't married anymore since he would've signed it by now.

-However that night was oddly ..silent. Not the peaceful silence but a weird creepy silence that was like in those horror novels you read just before the monster caught it's victims. It made your hair stand on end and instinctively your hands clutched the swell of your stomach. Odd. Usually cookies would be coming to badger you or searching for Blueberry Yogurt Cookie. So where was everyone?? You picked up your pace passing by the nursery on your way b- "It's beautiful tonight."

-You pause freezing at the familiar voice before ever so slowly turning your head. A familiar figure stood there in the middle of the nursery with his back to you, a plush sugar gnome in his hands. "Blueberry Yogurt Cookie?" You turned to him feeling uneasy. "Where have you been? No one's seen your in nearly three weeks. Black Sapphire Cookie and I've been bombarded with cookies looking for you." He didn't turn to you making you shift in place. Now that your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could make out the-

-What...was he wearing? His usual robes and hat were gone, replace with some kind of suit with puffy sleeves and a large white collar. He still remained silent playing with the gnome plush. ".....Blueberry?" "You wouldn't leave me right?" The question pinned you to the spot, and in an instant you knew...You both knew. The silence stretched on further until you exhaled, dread piling in your stomach. "I-...I don't feel like you want me anymore." His body flinched. Tensing up and his hands licking around the toy. "I think..this marriage just wasn't going to work out. Too many things are happening and we don't have any time for each other anymore. I know I should've told you in person-"

-You stop when he laughs. A deep chuckle that sends ice in your veins and shivers down your spine. He finally turns around and your mouth drops in a silent scream. Eyes. So many eyes blinked at you from the darkness. "Oh, darling. Is that what's the matter?" His head twists at an angle that should be impossible as he's suddenly standing before you, dark and menacing aura heavy. Like a dog moving over you. "Aw. You should've said so sooner, Dumpling.~ I would've gladly made time for my wittle wife. Well no..I already did really. Hehehe! Didn't take me too long."

-"Too long? What have you done?!" "Sshhh." Arms slunk around your arm pulling you against a body as cold as ice as your eyes widened. "You don't have to worry about anything anymore. You or our little poppet.~ After all the world's a stage and the most entertaining scenes are yet to be written.~"

[thehatboxwitch]

phainon yandere profile. gender neutral, TW // yandere, nsfw at the end. credits @cinnamonest for the profile template. :)

What is he generally like? Is he self-aware, lucid, or obsessive? How does he behave?

Phainon is, in all variations of him, just a big dog with a tortured heart. He's desperate for your attention and approval, for someone to never leave him and carry the burden of the prophecy with him. Despite being surrounded by his fellow flame-chasers and admirers, he feels painfully lonely, knowing that at the end of the day, the only person who can truly walk his path is himself.

He's a little intense when it comes to the people around him, so you likely wouldn't think of him as obsessive at first - it's just how he is, so you believe. Phainon really leans into the 'pity me' card (complete with the puppy dog look), and neither you or nor anyone else can say anything about it. He creeps into your life, entwining himself with you until by the time you look down, it's too late.

He's obsessive and self-aware. He knows what he's doing is wrong, like threatening people or restricting your freedom, but Phainon will jump through any and all mental hoops to convince himself (and you) that it's all for your own good, hence obsessive. Idk the cognitive dissonance is strong with this one.

How do you meet him?

You’d have to be something special - preferably someone beyond the stars, someone who isn’t familiar with Okhema’s customs at all. Phainon would have trouble with separating you from the people he’s supposed to be a hero to, even if you were able to see him for him.

Alternatively, a childhood friend would do very well for him. Phainon remembers every precious memory he had with you before he could be coined Chrysos Heir. He attaches himself to you obsessively, completely sure that you’re the only person who could ever understand the true him and relieve the burden of all the blood on his hands.

How likely will he kidnap his darling?

Talking strict kidnapping, 1/10. Phainon doesn't need to keep you in his house to control you - he has power and sway over the people, and when that doesn't work, a few well placed bribes help so that someone has their eye on you at all times. Besides, he wants to see you happy and he wants you to accept him, most of all. Kidnapping you would be the antithesis of all that.

How difficult is it to escape from him? How does he restrain his darling? How does he deal with attempted escape?

10/10 difficulty, both physically and from his area of influence. Phainon would make up all sorts of excuses to stay with you a little while longer, whine and complain that he never gets to see you (lie), and try to wriggle his way into your home or coerce you back to his, even if it might make him seem a bit like... loser. He keeps you stuck to his side and in his shadow by sliding an arm around your waist or shoulder under the pretence of friendliness; he's clingy like you've never known clingy before.

He’s not above using drugs to achieve his desired outcome either, for example, making you so sleepy that you can’t turn down an invitation back to his place. Phainon feels bad about it at first, but when he sees you dozing uncontrollably on his shoulder, it's not difficult to wave the guilt away. And he finds it gets easier the more he does it! So it can't be all bad, can it?

From his area of influence, it’s easy enough to arrange for a little accident, a hiccup with your finances, whatever it takes to keep you within the city and keep you from leaving his side where he can reach you. There's no attempted escape from him - unless you're willing to hurt the people you love on your way out.

How easy is it to trick, deceive, or manipulate him?

For some minor trickery, like making up some excuse to slip away from a social situation, it’s easy enough. Phainon would rather gaslight himself into thinking you’re always right and that you’d never lie to him, and so he’ll let you get away with small lies even if he knows they are lies. True deception and manipulation is tough, however. He’s always two steps ahead of you - experienced warrior, remember? And well-loved by the citizens besides. Somebody would tell on you, even if he slips up.

You could manipulate him by showering him with love if you're smart about it. You'd have to prepare your exit while giving him lots of hugs and kisses and telling him how much you appreciate him, and Phainon will melt. Play to his rose-tinted glasses and you'll be able to conceal your true plans - just be prepared to move fast, and keep running for as long as you live.

How lenient is he? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’s pretty liberal in the grand scheme of things. He lets you go about your day, stay in your home, continue to have your friends and family with you. But as Phainon closes in on possessing you, you get the distinct feeling that people are beginning to be uncomfortable around you, and that certain choice people have started disappearing - like the colleague who tried asking you out once. You’d turned him down, of course. But that doesn’t stop Phainon from taking… precautions.

You’re denied your freedom in the sense that every way you turn, you come up against the iron bars of your metaphorical bird cage. A gilded cage is still a cage, after all, and it's frustrating to know that someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes even though you have no idea who it is.

What kind of rules does he have? What kind of punishments would he use?

The one and only rule Phainon has: no leaving his side. And he means that in the grand scheme of things, as in no dying, and no leaving Okhema. He thinks he doesn't ask for much, really!

He isn't actually fond of punishing you. He likes to treat you like a delicate flower, so he lavishes you in all sorts of luxuries and creature comforts. The most punishment he'd ever use would be to isolate you in his home with nothing but himself for company. It's not the worst, all things considered, but I imagine spending a month alone with Phainon is enough to drive anyone up the wall.

How does he deal with rivals, or perceived rivals?

Phainon can be surprisingly peace-loving when it comes to his "rivals", or at the very least has no desire to hurt the people he's supposed to serve and protect. He tries to let killing be his last resort, and calls in favours from here or there to make sure your paths never cross again. Threats would come anonymously and are usually enough to deter them from ever speaking to you again.

He kills when he has to, though, and makes sure to do the deed himself. He wouldn't trust anyone else with such an important job.

How easy is it to make him mad? What does his anger look like?

Phainon doesn’t get mad so much as he gets desperate, upset, and very, very clingy. It hurts him if you reject him, talk about leaving the city or even Amphoreus, or try to lie to him. He’s nothing but good to you and has only ever acted for your benefit, so why do you treat him in this way? Tears are common. He doesn’t intend to guilt trip, but he does it very well. You feel like you're kicking a lost puppy in the rain whenever you hurt him. Is it ever worth it?

In a parallel vein, Phainon does get jealous. That’s when he feels the need to shower you in physical gifts, or mark you with bruises and bite marks and leave you so sore that there’s no doubt about who had done that to you. He wraps you all up in his arms, even in public, making sure that word spreads fast who this Chrysos Heir has his eye on.

Does he see you as above, beneath, or equal to him?

He sees his darling as his saviour, his rock, his anchor to whatever good is left in his world, so I’d say he sees you as above him. You’re his mortal god, and no normal human would ever relinquish their grasp on their god, would they?

How determined is he for you to love him, or is he content just having you?

It's a little bit of both for Phainon. He's not really determined so much as he is the type to roll around on his bed complaining about whyyy don't you love him back, kneel before you and worship the ground you walk on, anything you want.

He'll pour his everything into loving you, but if he expects anything back, it vacillates. He doesn't quite believe he's deserving of love, after all, and if something loves him back he fears he might lose it. So if you spend the rest of your life hating him, he supposes it's alright as long as you're safe, even if it hurts.

It's either that or he falls into a darkness every once in a while and really needs your comfort and affection. Denying him when he's like this is a sure way to be pulled into some... intimate endeavours.

How forceful is he? Does he care about your willingness?

Like before, it depends on his mood. Usually he's doing his best to coax you into warmer feelings for him, but sometimes, he allows himself to slip and treat you as an object of love rather than another person. Phainon isn't really forceful as in fond of using brute force, but he'll manipulate and cajole until your willingness becomes "your idea", or at least until he can gaslight you into thinking it was your idea.

General perverseness: How sexual is he? What's his drive like? Touchy? Any reservations about sexuality?

Touchy? Extremely. And not even in a perverse manner, Phainon just likes hugs and kisses and cuddles that way.

He doesn't really have any reservations about sexuality - he likes you, he wants you, that's all it is to him. But he doesn't like the idea of forcing you either (without the help of certain substances, at least.) He's definitely much more respectful in the beginning, letting you take things at your own pace. Just don't let him wait for too long...

His drive is constant but not uncontrollably high. Phainon's always in the mood to worship his darling, be it through gifts or pleasure. Whatever darling wants, darling gets, and he's more than happy to provide, even to the point of neglecting his own pleasure.

What body parts of his darling does he like the most?

Probably thighs. He just likes the softness and the warmth of it all, squeezing and kneading your flesh. It's intimate but not too intimate, and he can keep you close while he indulges. :)

this post was so incredibly long. please leave a reblog if you enjoyed TT

[juricel]

OML I got this idea stuck in my damn brain like-

Reader aka us, being the ruler of the cookie kingdom (the kingdom we currently own as the player), and Shadow Milk Cookie begging to be let in the kingdom because he wanted to cause silly danger and more mischief (in his corruption), to only fall in love with us (could potentially become a yandere but up to you) after a few days/weeks of meeting.

Like - reader as very sweet, calm and cool that made SMC fall hard in love for them ? 💙🩵

a/n: don't know about everyone else, but me, personally, if I see shadow milk cookie begging to be let in my kingdom, I'd be more than willing to take him in... need to promote him to 2 stars...

— yandere! jester! shadow milk cookie x ruler! reader

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: yandere themes, psychological and emotional manipulation, gaslighting, coercion, toxic relationships, extreme possessiveness, obsession, mind-breaking, corruption, shadow milk cookie is a cunt, slow-burn destruction, degradation, despair, entrapment, dependency, unhealthy power dynamics, existential horror, and dark romanticization of suffering, its written in shadow milk perspective so it's romanticized, potential ooc.

𖦁 above the high tower—so pristine, so sickeningly pure—a utopia. a kingdom balanced on the trembling fulcrum of equality, on the polished illusion of prosperity, on that laughable dream of heaven. when first he heard of it, he scoffed, a knowing little chuckle curling at the edge of his lips. a kingdom so spotless was a kingdom awaiting its first stain. a place so righteous, so unbearably good, was nothing more than a stage trembling in anticipation of its first act of sin. and if corruption was its fate—oh, the sweet, inexorable pull of ruin—then why not be the hand that guides it? the first dark filament woven into its tapestry, the first exquisite crack in its porcelain? for after all, what greater pleasure was there than watching a kingdom of splendor crumble? to witness the slow unraveling, the first fractures lacing through their golden foundations, the hesitant, horrified realization dawning in their wide, unspoiled eyes? a bliss; the way grandeur rots from within, the way righteousness sours into desperation. It was always such fun, never failing to elicit a laughter from his lips—to watch their heaven buckle under the weight of its own impossible promises, to see their shining citadel collapse into the very ruin they swore could never touch them.

𖦁 at first, that was his sole plan—a swift, merciless tainting, a single decisive stroke to mar their pristine dream. but ah, immediate corruption lacked artistry, lacked finesse, and it was certainly not his modus operandi. no, no, he was not some blunt force of ruin, some crude agent of chaos. his was a subtler touch, a patient, insidious creeping of decay. surely, it wouldn’t hurt to let the rot seep in slowly, to let the kingdom sip its own poison drop by drop? after all, a thing does not truly break unless it first believes itself unbroken. and what was the first step to that, but to endear the ruler? to weave himself into their favor, to become the whispered counsel at their ear, the trusted shadow at their side? a kingdom so pure, so blissfully naïve, would never suspect the serpent if it spoke in honeyed tones, if it coiled itself in silken loyalty. let them trust him, let them open their gates, their hearts, their very souls. corruption was sweetest when it was invited in. and so he did; draped himself in the garb of mirth, painted his deception in bright, foolish colors. a performer, a jester—a harmless thing, a trinket for amusement, a creature of capers and laughter. how naturally it all fell into place, how perfectly the pieces clicked. he acted, he jested, he spun his illusions like golden thread, and just as he had anticipated—just as he had orchestrated—one day, you finally took notice. one day, you plucked him from the streets and placed him at your side: as your personal jester.

𖦁 Calm, composed, tender—a ruler carved from the finest marble, whose very breath seemed to hold the delicate rhythm of a perfect, untroubled reign. An embodiment of a perfect ruler, both to his twisted sense of definition and in the term followers coined; a sovereign that ruled with grace and collection, one who will choose peace of their own kingdom rather than theirs, and most importantly, a sovereign exquisite to break, a monarch to watch crumble apart at the seams. With an oh-so-frail hands, he slowly fed you poison, feeding you sweet lullabies lies with every single time he invited himself to your court, yet with such gentleness, such tender adoration, you hardly noticed the slow, treacherous drip of it into your veins. His touch was light, his voice a soothing lullaby, his eyes a mirror to your own desires, reflecting the very world he had already begun to fracture. You laughed in his presence, you adored him as a child adores the fool who dances for their amusement, never suspecting the subtle malice woven beneath the laughter. You were the imperator, crowned and naive, and he—oh, he was no more than a jester, a trickster, a soft-spoken destroyer. He seeped in, unnoticed, beneath the cloak of love, until the kingdom you ruled had turned to ash. Every moment he spent by your side, every gentle word he whispered, drew you closer to the inevitable end. He was not the harbinger of doom, merely its messenger, and you, sweet sovereign, had already embraced the fall—he wasn't cruel! no, far from it, he was simply speeding up the process of your fate.

𖦁 Piece by piece, the delicate order of your kingdom crumbled, the carefully woven threads of control slipping, unraveling into the quiet chaos that waited with open arms. It was such a quiet delight, watching your face—watching the once-imperious set of your features soften, grow fragile. His sweet darling, his imperator—did you enjoy his performance? His quiet theatrics? The way he danced so close to your frail soul, each movement a deliberate stroke in the masterpiece of your undoing? Your laughter—so exquisite, so heartbreakingly tender—spilled into the air like the final note of a dying melody, trembling before fading into something unrecognizable. No longer the regal, composed mirth of a ruler, but something frayed at the edges, something raw, something slipping through your fingers before you could grasp what had changed. And he watched, oh, how he watched, as each delicate layer of your serenity cracked, one by one. And just as he had foreseen, you sought refuge in him—clinging, desperate, drawn to the very hands that had undone you. You needed him, craved the sweet poisons he fed you, each drop a fleeting reprieve from the reality gnawing at the edges of your soul and who was he but a sweet jester, a silken-tongued fool draped in motley mirth? After all, you were his dearest majesty, sovereign of his affections, and if such a luminous crown sought more of his quaint little revels, if those imperial fingers curled, ever so faintly, in silent demand—ah, how could he deny you? You were his to break, and break you he did—so gently, so tenderly, so exquisitely.

𖦁 And ah, how utterly darling you were like that—weren’t you meant to be the perfect ruler, the unshaken sovereign, the very pillar upon which your kingdom stood? But worry not! For he, your ever-faithful jester, would always be there to lift your spirits, to coo and fawn and wrap you in the silken embrace of his honeyed falsehoods. Sweetly, tenderly, he guided your gaze away from the creeping decay, his fingers featherlight as they covered your eyes, his touch a gentle shroud over the truth he was so lovingly unraveling. He was your jester, your fool, a puppet crafted for your amusement, a plaything meant to make you laugh—yet, oh, how beautifully the strings had tangled. For here you were, trembling beneath him, his sweet little sovereign, his fragile darling, lost and despairing, just as you were always meant to be. He yearned to keep you just like this—to clutch the dying breath of your laughter, to sink his fingers into it and squeeze until nothing remained but the broken echoes of something once bright. But joy was meaningless, a trinket easily shattered; no, the true rapture, the thing that set his soul alight, was your despair, your ruin, the exquisite tremor in your breath as realization crawled through your mind like a slow, cold hand. Oh, how he adored the way your smile faltered, how he savored the flicker of fear in those celestial eyes, the way your very soul seemed to wither beneath his touch. You were his masterpiece, your suffering a symphony, each fragile crack in your spirit a note in the melody he had composed with such tender cruelty. Your radiant smile, your trembling gaze—how divine they were, poised at the very edge of oblivion. And oh, how perfect you would be, entombed in eternity, frozen forever in that exquisite moment of collapse. Never whole again, never beyond his reach, never anything but his—his to twist, his to shatter, his to own. No one else could have you. No one else would understand. No one else deserved to witness the fragile, broken thing he had so carefully sculpted. You were his—his ruin, his darling, his little sovereign—forever and only his.

𖦁 Oh, but do not misunderstand him! He loved you, loved you wholly, the way a flame loves the fragile moth that it lures, the way a poet loves the ink that stains his trembling hands. Your gentleness, your calm, your measured poise—these he cherished, yes, these he cradled in the hollow of his palms like something sacred. But oh, his love, what he adored—no, what he worshipped—was that part of you which most repulsed yourself. The cracks, the stains, the lovely little rot that clung to your soul like mold upon marble. Your cruddy, your ruin, the decay that softened your edges into something closer—ah, so much closer—to his own. It was in that wretchedness that he found divinity; it was in your unbecoming that he saw you, at last, becoming his, a reflection of himself. He wanted you broken, petrified, stripped of all that made you whole. But don’t be so upset, won’t you? This was your fate, after all—etched into the marrow of your bones long before you could protest. You were blinded, drunk on the illusions of heaven and prosperity, stumbling through the gilded halls of your own self-deceit. And being the good little jester that he was, ever so devoted to his craft, he helped you out—by corrupting you, warping you, twisting your kingdom into a grotesque parody of its former glory. A kindness, really. A mercy.

a/n: one thing that you can always trust me to do is that if it is possible to include yandere! shadow milk cookie, i WILL include him but i do feel like its starting to get repetitive. also, just woke up after finishing writing this in the middle of the night and i just realized how far this was from the requester's request but... the damage is already done, somebody kill me NOW.

[cloudshuffle]

What are some of the nasty/creepy things they do to reader in the nobility au? Like the book sniffing thing

arranged by least to most creepy >:)

nobility au

boothill

something about boothill tells me that he’s not very capable of being nasty. or more like he’s not interested in it? he’s a straightforward guy, much preferring to meet you face to face and be in your presence, even if you do always tell him that you’re busy! he knows that’s untrue.

the most boothill has done was follow you around, sussing out your daily schedule with ease. he is a bounty hunter, after all, and a high-profile little miss such as yourself is no trouble for him at all. he tells himself that he’s just another bodyguard, protecting you from the shadows, but all the while he longs to be out in the daylight, enjoying the town with you.

boothill’s not so much creepy than persistent to me, like a puppy left out in the rain that you really can’t adopt but keeps returning to paw at your door. and eventually you have to give in some time, which brings him more joy than anything else in the world.

aventurine

yes, apart from the book sniffing, i imagine he does a lot of sniffing besides, like burying his nose into your hair or kissing your neck and inhaling deeply. (isn’t it said that women apply perfume where they want to be kissed?)

if we want to talk even creepier, maybe he once snuck into the laundry under the guise of ensuring the maids were working and nabbed a piece of your clothing. doesn’t need to be your underwear - i imagine he’d be happy with something more innocent, like a glove. it’s oddly romantic, the way he holds it to his face while sleeping, like it’s your real hand he’s holding.

in the grand scheme of things, i think aventurine isn’t that bad. it could really be worse.

sunday

he watches.

truly, he stands in corners and shadowy alcoves, doing nothing but watching you go about your day. he pops up in places where you least expect him, like, say, the stables. and when he’s cooped up inside the palace with paperwork to do, sunday contents himself by watching you from the windows, laughing and chatting with friends. you’ll often feel someone’s gaze prickling on the back of your neck, but when you look around, you won’t be able to find anyone there. one of sunday’s many talents.

you’d better bet there’s been at least one occasion where he watched you take a bath - god knows how, but at least he did it with a lot of embarrassed blushing on his part. not to say that that’s stopped him ever.

there’s something very special to him about being able to inspect you like an unrefined gemstone under a magnifying glass. 10/10 would not recommend him in your house.

dr. ratio

now hear me out. he is not only a nerd, he is also a nerd with an overinflated ego. meaning that he can, and will, gaslight you into thinking he’s normal.

this sounds ridiculous but stay with me.

you’re having your typical one-on-one lesson with dr ratio. aventurine isn’t present as usual because he’s just going to be a nuisance, so it’s just you and your demanding tutor. he gives you some time to write up a short paragraph, and you lower your head and focus on the assignment.

ratio comes over to see what you have so far. he makes a brief comment. you nod and move to make changes. and suddenly you freeze, feeling fingers on the back of your neck.

you face feels hot. had you imagined it? wasn’t that a completely inappropriate move on his part? should you speak up?

as the professor moves toward the front of the classroom again, he acts like absolutely nothing just happened, raising an eyebrow. “are you feeling alright? your face looks warm.”

and you shake your head quickly, fanning yourself in embarrassment. no way he’d have the nerve to do something like that to do you. after all, he was your tutor… he’d be smarter than to jeopardise his position like that.

[shizuturnspages]

Yandere Sumeru boys headcannons

Alhaitham

❥ Alhaitham is a logical, rational asshole. But that’s exactly what makes him a terrifying yandere. He doesn’t go for the crazed, irrational shit. No, he's cold, clinical, and he will plan every damn move like he’s playing fucking chess with your life. You're a puzzle he has to solve, and the solution? Oh, it's him. Always. No fucking escape.

❥ In Alhaitham's mind, once he's figured you out, that’s it. No one else deserves to even fucking look at you. His understanding of you is so complete that it becomes his sole justification for controlling every aspect of your life. He knows what’s best for you, even better than you do. He will cut off your ties to others in subtle ways, leaving you wondering how the hell you became so isolated. Oh, it was him, sweetheart.

❥ This dude’s not gonna stab someone in broad daylight like some psycho—he’s a fucking genius. He’ll use your own thoughts against you. He’ll subtly gaslight you into believing no one else is as capable of understanding you like he does. You’ll start to think maybe he’s the only one who truly gets you, and by the time you realise what’s happening, it's too late. You’re trapped in his web.

❥ Alhaitham would be the kind of yandere who sabotages your other relationships without you even knowing it. Oh, your friend suddenly moved away? Strange. That one guy who liked you stopped talking to you out of nowhere? Weird, huh? He’ll always be there to comfort you, his stoic mask hiding the fact that he's orchestrating every single one of your problems just so he can fix them.

❥ Alhaitham’s biggest strength as a yandere is his ability to keep his shit together. You’ll never see him snap, never see him lose his cool. But the second you try to leave him? Fucking hell breaks loose. He’ll track you down using logic and strategy like you’re nothing but a lost book in his library. And when he finds you? Oh, he’ll make sure you never even think about running again.

Cyno

❥ Cyno is all about justice. Well, that translates to some next-level protection for you. But not the cute kind. We're talking "anyone who looks at you wrong is gonna fucking disappear" kind of protection. He’ll see himself as your personal guardian, and no one��and I mean no one—gets to mess with you. He doesn’t care if you think it’s creepy; he knows what's best. Fuck your opinion.

❥ This guy’s got a black-and-white sense of right and wrong, and guess what? You’re always right in his eyes. But everyone else? They’re a threat. He’ll punish anyone who comes near you, ‘cause in his twisted sense of justice, they’re infringing on what’s his. He’ll never let you out of his sight because that would be “irresponsible” on his part. Yeah, he’s doing it for your “safety,” but really, it's all about keeping you locked down.

❥ Cyno is fiercely loyal, and as a yandere, this loyalty becomes suffocating as fuck. He doesn’t know how to do things halfway. You are his, and that’s not up for debate. You don’t get to leave, you don’t get to argue. He’ll follow you everywhere, even if you don’t want him to, always showing up like some shadow you can never fucking shake. And trust me, he won’t tolerate anyone trying to come between you two. That’s a death sentence.

❥ Oh, he loves his jokes, right? Well, as a yandere, he’ll still joke, but those jokes come with a deadly edge. You piss him off? He’ll laugh it off with some dark humor, but you can feel the unspoken threat in every word. And if someone other than him crosses you? Cyno’s “justice” is swift, brutal, and final. There’s no trial, no second chance—just his fucked up sense of justice.

❥ Cyno’s got that chill, deadpan vibe most of the time, but holy shit, when he cares about something—or someone—he becomes intense as fuck. If you ever tried to leave or betray him, that calm exterior would fucking crack. He’d hunt you down like he’s enforcing divine judgment, and there’s no place you could hide. His cold, calculated demeanor makes him even more dangerous because you’ll never see that rage coming until it’s too fucking late.

Tighnari

❥ Tighnari’s a fucking genius when it comes to the wilderness. You think you can run from him? Oh, hell no. He’ll use the forest itself to keep you in line. Poisonous plants? Deadly traps? Oh, he’s got all that shit covered. He’s not gonna let you leave his side, and if you try, well… let’s just say the forest has a funny way of making people disappear.

❥ Tighnari’s soft-spoken and gentle on the surface, right? But underneath that shit is a fucking possessive streak you won’t believe. He’s always making sure you’re “okay,” and by okay, he means under his control. He’ll play the caring, concerned partner, using his knowledge of herbs and remedies to keep you close, always “healing” you when you don’t even realise you’re being fucking poisoned. Yeah, he’s got that soft look, but it hides something twisted.

❥ Tighnari’s a smart fucker, no doubt about that. He’ll use his intelligence to gaslight the hell out of you. Oh, you think those berries made you sick? Nah, you’re just paranoid. He’ll make you second-guess every fucking thing, twisting your reality until you can’t even trust your own instincts. He’ll be your only reliable source of “truth,” and by then, he’s got you trapped—mentally and physically.

❥ Tighnari’s got a bond with the forest, so you’re basically under its watchful eye too. He’ll set up barriers—physical and psychological—using his connection to nature to always know where you are. The animals? They’re his spies. You try to run? He’ll know before you even take a damn step. And when he catches you? Oh, he’ll smile that gentle smile, reminding you that there’s no place you can hide from him in his territory.

❥ As a caretaker, Tighnari will spoil you, but it comes with a price. He’ll shower you with attention, making sure you’re always “healthy” and “happy,” but his version of care is suffocating as fuck. He’ll control your meals, your sleep, even your thoughts, all under the guise of concern. You wanna leave? Nah, he’ll convince you that the outside world is too dangerous, and only he can keep you safe.

Kaveh

❥ Kaveh’s a sensitive soul. Well, as a yandere, he’s all over the place emotionally. One minute he’s showering you with affection, and the next? Oh, he’s guilt-tripping the hell out of you. You’re his muse, his reason for living, but if you so much as look at someone else? Boom—he’s spiraling into jealous rants, throwing himself into emotional breakdowns that leave you feeling like you’re responsible for his sanity.

❥ Kaveh’s creative mind would turn his obsession into something artistic, but it’s got a creepy edge. He’ll draw, paint, and sculpt you over and over again, but it’s not flattering—it’s fucking eerie. His art becomes a shrine to you, and he’ll get pissed if you don’t appreciate it the way he expects. And God forbid you question why every piece makes you look like you’re trapped. Oh, he’ll say you “just don’t get the meaning.”

❥ Kaveh’s not the type to outright control you at first; no, he’ll do it through passive-aggressive manipulation. He’ll guilt-trip you into staying by his side, making you feel like if you leave, you’re abandoning him in his time of need. He’ll make you feel like he needs you more than you need him, and before you know it, you’re stuck in this cycle of constantly trying to make him feel better while he wraps his twisted little vines around your life.

❥ Kaveh’s been broke before. So now that he’s got his shit together, he’ll use that financial stability as a way to control you. He’ll act like he’s helping you out, offering to take care of your needs, but it’s all part of his fucking plan to make you dependent on him. The more you rely on him, the more he’ll tighten his grip, using guilt and money as tools to bind you. And if you try to break free? He’ll remind you how much he’s done for you.

❥ Kaveh’s the type who’d make everything symbolic. Every moment, every gift, every glance—he’ll attach deep, emotional meanings to shit you don’t even think about. He’ll remember every little detail about your life, and if you ever try to leave, he’ll throw it all back in your face. “How could you forget that time we shared [random moment]?” He’ll weaponize memories, making you feel like leaving him would be the ultimate betrayal.

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere hcs ; shadow milk cookie

requested by ; anonymous (04/09/24)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; shadow milk cookie

outline ; “Ahem… Shadow Milk Cookie Yandere HC’s?? *slides you a 20* (I’m 20 yrs old btw)”

warning(s) ; yandere!shadow milk cookie, potentially ooc!shadow milk cookie at points, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, stalking, kidnapping, physical abuse, psychological abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, heavily implied murder, just a really toxic and abusive dynamic overall (duh lol)

on the surface it’s quite difficult to tell the difference between shadow milk cookie’s behaviour as a lover normally and how he acts as a yandere… at least as long as you do as you’re told and don’t try and disobey him — and that’s pretty much entirely down to the fact that he’s the beast of deceit; lying and acting come as easily to him as breathing so he’s very good at either hiding the darker sides of himself from you, or at convincing you that the red flags and abusive behaviours that you do notice are either fabrications of your mind or completely deserved because of some slight you committed against him

he’s also very intentional about how he gets you under his thumb, treating the whole thing like an elaborate play where he ensures that everyone plays their part — he’ll stalk you religiously for weeks, make sure you never see him but that you know you’re being followed so that your mental stability declines, go out of his way to manipulate your relationships with your loved ones so they break down (or that they’re not around to care about you anymore) and you’re left completely isolated, and then, once he’s certain that you’re suitably vulnerable for his needs he’ll simply swoop in and take you back to his realm where nobody will be able to find you

(and where he can get rid of anyone who does without having to leave you alone for too long)

he tests you a lot, dangling the promise of freedom in front of your face just long enough for you to regain some semblance of hope only to snatch it away and punish you for daring to even think about betraying your husband — and his punishments are always incredibly disproportionate to whatever infraction you committed against him (e.g. your eyes lighting up a bit too much at the mention of something/someone from your old life for his tastes is met with a period of isolation so gruelling you’ll end up hallucinating and begging for his company, while an actual attempt to escape — even if wholly unsuccessful — is followed by a staged fight with the monsters dwelling in his domain that leaves you so broken and battered that you’ll be wholly reliant on him to be able to move for the next few weeks)

he claims that he hates these punishments just as much as you do, but the sadistic glee in his eyes when he’s enacting them and the smug grin on his face when you finally relent say otherwise

shadow milk cookie is extremely possessive — hence his very thorough method of isolating you from your larger social circle before he took you — and, as such, anytime he gets the slightest inkling that you might have at some point had feelings for someone else (be that a fleeting consideration that a stranger was attractive or an actual fully fledged past relationship) then he makes quick work of dragging them back to his domain and letting them know that you’re taken

he never elaborates on what that means, but based on all of the screams you hear when he brings someone new ‘home’ you decide that you’re better off just living in ignorance

he likes to talk to you, loves the sound of your voice more than his own, and could happily spend days at a time just chatting with you (or, as it happens for most of the earlier months of your ‘relationship’, at you) — but for as vocal as he is, sometimes he’ll just sit/float in the same room as you and just stare at you with that damned smile on his face

just following your every movement with visible hearts in his eyes — letting out the occasional dreamy sigh or humming along to a tune you couldn’t even hope to guess as he observes you like you’re some sort of exotic pet — and if he wasn’t literally holding you captive, if he were literally anyone else, you might have even gone so far as to call him cute for it

his ultimate goal is to break you and make you love him, and he makes good use of his magic and his talent for lying to do that — he convinces you that everyone you knew actually despises you and that nobody has even tried to search for you after you disappeared, he conjurs up illusions of your loved ones insulting and belittling and mocking you that infect your dreams and begin to twist your memories to match his assertions as more time passes in his realm, he oscillates between ignoring and isolating you and showering you with affection and attention to make you crave his presence and company more than you loathe him for kidnapping you, and he gets into your head enough to wholeheartedly convince you that every punishment he inflicts is for your own good

he’s manipulative as fuck and cruel as all hell, but eventually it starts to work and you begin to develop a sort of stockholm syndrome for your captor

it may take months or years or even decades if you’re especially stubborn, but you’re still only human and he’s willing to wait however long he needs to in order to see you break

after all, shadow milk cookie spent eons trapped in that damned tree waiting for his freedom so he can wait even longer for the love of his life

how disgustingly obsessive

how terribly romantic of him

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh how about Yandere Macaque who grows attached to his new student ;)

Sure! Made the pairing vague as it can go either way.

Yandere! Macaque with Apprentice! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Controlling behavior, Gaslighting, Possessive behavior, Fear of abandonment, Isolation, Forced companionship/relationship.

Macaque struggles when it comes to forming personal connections.

Ever since Wukong's betrayal, he hasn't let anyone get close to him.

That's been the reason Macaque acts the way he does, after all.

Macaque didn't expect to get attached to you.

In fact, he was hoping he wouldn't in fear of getting hurt again.

Macaque is manipulative and cunning....

Originally he took you in because he felt he could use you.

Similar to MK, Macaque felt you had potential.

He originally intended to make you a rival to MK, a way to continue sticking it to Wukong.

Not only that, but Macaque knows of the dangers the future holds...

He wants you prepared.

Macaque is a manipulative teacher.

He probably picked you as you were going through some negative things in your life.

As a being forced to be in the shadows, he understands your feelings all too well.

Isn't he benevolent when he takes you in?

He has you stay at a dojo with him, promising power and lessons.

Macaque preys on the vulnerable, which would make him be able to get in your head.

Macaque normally starts off as isolating.

He wants you to rely on him so he can influence your development.

He dismisses the idea of you having friends or family to go to.

You have duties to attend to.

He can't have his student falling behind if they wish to get stronger, right?

Macaque may actually be... anxious when his obsession starts.

Why does he feel excited when you pay attention to him?

Why does he enjoy your smile and presence?

He... He doesn't need companionship.

Yet it gets harder and harder to believe his own words when he looks at you.

He hates the idea of him being attached.

He doesn't need anyone, no recognition or anything.

But... Why must you be so adorable to him?

Why must he like it when you try your best?

You're trying to impress him... You look up to him...

... and he loves it.

Macaque craves that feeling of validation.

To see you look at him so eagerly, to want his praise?

It's more addicting than anything.

This results in Macaque using his earlier tactics... but for a different motive.

He still wants to isolate you, to make you focus on just him....

Yet it's not for lessons or to get back at Wukong.

Now it's because he craves your gaze on him.

Macaque needs you to look at him, to trip over yourself trying to impress him.

He's your teacher, your master, and now he's enjoying every second of it.

Sure, he's possessive, but he's always been selfish.

Macaque only cares for himself.

You make him want to give in to your comfort... to make you all his.

He feels no shame in keeping you with him at the dojo.

When you ask to leave, to speak with friends or family, he vetoes it....

"Friends? Family? Did you forget what I taught you? You can't trust anyone out there... No one but me, your teacher. Understand?"

Of course you listen, he listened to you when no one else would.

How could you not listen to teacher?

Macaque makes sure to keep you busy.

More lessons, more training, more chats....

At this point you live at the dojo.

Macaque always follows you around, practically becoming your shadow with how he looms over you.

To Macaque, it's all about messing with the mind.

He doesn't have to harm a soul himself if he wants you to himself.

He just needs to make you think you need no one else....

Macaque enforces this with his words, praising you and making you reliant on his praise and gifts.

Essentially... He love bombs you to make sure no one else gets your attention.

You can't betray him if he's all you have.

He tells you that you need him.

He says you're too weak on your own, that you need him to be strong.

Do you really want to be alone again?

I feel him manipulating you as your teacher and friend is bad enough.

But when romantic?

He's going to cling to you, he'll make you reliant on his touch just to drag you deeper into his web of lies.

Macaque doesn't care about showing off to Wukong and MK anymore.

Now he just wants you to be his, to keep him company.

He's scared he'll lose you, just like how he was hurt in the past.

So he'll hurt you just enough to make you reliant on him.

He can't lose you if he breaks you and builds you up.

He'll make you forget your old life, he'll have the darkness swallow you.

You'll be his student, his toy, all he ever wants and needs.

He won't need to hurt a soul as long as no one pries too much.

Even if they did, he's used to fighting.

He'll convince you anyone trying to come for you is trying to turn you against him.

You'd never leave your teacher all alone, would you?

No, He knows you wouldn't.

He'll do every dirty trick in the book to make you stay with him.

He'll gaslight you to make you trust him..

He'll bribe, lie, threaten, scold... everything.

As long as he gets in your head, he's won.

By this point, you'll always listen to teacher.

You live with him, train with him, eat with him, sleep with him...

Macaque knows by this point he'll never lose you, not when he's broken you in like this...

You'll be all his once you need him as much as he needs you... master and apprentice bound forever.

[puppetmaster13u]

The Au is Ra has been using the Lazarus pits for so long that causes him to see Danny like a human or his normal Phantom form Ra the only one that sees Danny like that

I love the idea of Deadly Decision getting together but Ra has no idea that Danny is no human he just thinks that Danny has his own Lazarus pit hidden somewhere away from him

Like Danny is full blown glowing white hair, green eyes, Sharp Fangs, an electrical being

Ra point at tall being of Life And Death it looks like he's about to rip you apart: This Is My Wife Danny.

Like sometimes people just ask him if he sees anything unhumanly about Danny and

Ra is like: What Are You Talking About ?

Danny's in the background forming Stars into his hand I'm trying to make himself a new sword

Talia and Dusan we're raised by Danny and Ra they just gotten used to also considering getting to be a normal human they find it hilarious to play along with their other two siblings Dan and Danielle that Mom is human

Slade: I've been meaning to ask what about that monster Ra has locked up back there

Talia: You Mean Mother

Slade: that's your mother I didn't know Ra al Ghul was attracted to on human beings

Dusan: what do you mean unhumanly our mother is perfectly normal he's not even assassin

Danielle walking out of his shadow: Maybe Your Mother Was The Weird One

Dan floating near Talia: Get the hell out how dare you disrespect our Mama

All of them are girlboss, gatekeep, and gaslight people into believe Danny is normal

Damien will give warning that his grandmother does not look like a Human they were all expecting meta not electric being

Danny got so used to Ra al Ghul no his Husban treating him like a normal person when he's like this that he forgot that everyone might not that treat him like that

Honestly? I love this.

And you know what? Danny might need someone like that, who even as his humanity slips away still treats him as human, as not an eldritch creature of Space, of everything Between. Someone who treats him as well, him. Is his and Ras relationship healthy? Well maybe not in human terms, but do either of them count as such anymore?

The idea of the kids playing along is also amazing lol. Especially that Jordan and Ellie? Definitely same hat as Danny. Sure their forms still look sort of human, but that just makes it very uncanny valley. So others and siblings who treat them the same? They need it just as much- if nothing else than to not become so arrogant and uncaring of humanity that they could watch the world end without a blink.

Which, Damian! I bet Danny absolutely adores the grandbaby. I bet he crafts little ice bats and miniature planets to swirl above his crib. I bet he has a literal strip of space and stars on his ceiling. And Damian isn't the only grandbaby too- Dusan has a daughter in some timelines too. Not to mention Ras' adoptive daughter Nyssa, who he gave one of the Lazarus Pits to.

But speaking of Damian, I have to know what that would mean for Jason. Who was practically completely braindead before being thrown into the Pit. Who would have probably met Danny while there because I can't see Danny not also gently doting on another grandson.

Gosh I honestly am just really enjoying this whole thing lol.

[dollyswishingwell]

Hello!! I love your writing! Could you do Yandere Caleb but he’s the younger brother? Does he act any different or he’s less holding back and more the initiator?

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Don’t go

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ yandere, he’s crazy, he’s a yearner as always

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ He yearns for you regardless

He was always your shadow.

From the moment he was old enough to cling to your leg, he never let go. You’re his safe place, his big sister, his person. Even when he was smarter and taller than you, you were still the one he followed everywhere, except when you left him for the Hunter’s Academy.

⸻

He hated it.

You going off to the academy, partying with men, growing distant? It broke something in him. Every message you left unread. Every photo of you dressed up in something cute with other people. Every time you came back colder, more adult. He’d stare at your picture and whisper, “Come back to me.”

⸻

So Caleb started planning.

He rose fast through the Fleet, fueled by spite and longing. If he couldn’t chase you emotionally, he’d make himself indispensable to your world. The youngest colonel in Skyhaven. Your brilliant little brother, who still kept every drawing you ever made for him. Who cried the night you left.

⸻

Emotionally intense.

This version of Caleb is way less reserved. He’s always touching you, hugging you too long, sniffing your hair, resting his head in your lap. And when he’s upset, he doesn’t bottle it up.

“You don’t love me anymore,” he whispers, eyes glassy. “You always leave. You always leave me.”

⸻

Jealous and bratty.

He’s nasty about other men. He’ll coldly ruin their careers, get them dishonorably discharged, have them reassigned to asteroid mines. But with you, he plays the pitiful little brother card.

“Don’t hang out with them. Don’t smile at them. Don’t wear that around them. Just… be with me. You’re mine first.”

⸻

The night he locks you away…

…you’ve just come home from a dangerous mission, bleeding. He patches you up with trembling hands, silently. And when you wake up, you’re in his penthouse. No weapons. No access. Just Caleb.

He kisses your forehead and whispers, “Now you can’t leave me anymore.”

⸻

But he’s still Caleb.

Under all the sad, broken little brother behavior, there’s still the brilliant strategist. If crying and guilt don’t work, he’ll manipulate. He’ll gaslight. He’ll seduce.

“You said you’d always protect me,” he murmurs, curling into you at night. “So why’d you hurt me like that?”

⸻

Not above being spoiled.

This Caleb adores when you play big sister again. When you cook for him. Pet his hair. Scold him gently. He melts.

But if you so much as joke about leaving again, the softness dies. He’ll cage you in his arms and hiss,

“You’re not going anywhere. I’ll break your legs before I let you go back to them.”

⸻

Older you may be, but he’s the one in control now.

You’re still his pipsqueak. Still his big sister. But he’s grown into something terrifying and beautiful, and he wants everything from you.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, smiling like an angel. “I waited for you for so long. Don’t ever make me wait again.”

[onlyforsebastianstan]

My mind went a little angsty so I wanted to make this before continuing the other story. Hope you like this🥰

Until her Last Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader | Steve

Genre:

➤ Angst / Slow Burn / Drama / Hurt/Comfort / Love Triangle (Steve x Reader x Bucky) / Tragedy / Romantic Rivalry / Emotional Whump / Action/Suspense / Bittersweet

Summary:

Set after the events of The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes is a member of the Avengers but carries heavy emotional scars. When Tony introduces a mysterious, immortal woman to the team, one who has loved Bucky since the 1940s, his coldness becomes cruelty. Unbeknownst to him, the woman he mistreats has been silently watching over him for decades. But when Steve Rogers begins to show her the warmth Bucky denied her, the old soldier is forced to confront his own feelings, too late. A mission to rescue her from Hydra turns into a race against time and regret.

Part 1

⚠️ Content Warnings (CW):

→ Emotional Abuse / Cruelty (verbal)

→ Gaslighting-like behavior (from Bucky)

→ Depictions of Torture (Hydra scenes)

→ Mental and Emotional Trauma

→ Angst / Heartbreak

→ Implied Death / Character Death

→ Depressive Themes

→ Graphic descriptions of suffering (non-sexual)

Recommended Reader Age: 16+

Tony Stark introduced you like you were just another recruit. But the moment Bucky Barnes laid eyes on you, the air grew thick with something darker. Cold. Distrustful.

He didn’t like you. That was clear from the beginning.

“Immortal, huh?” Bucky muttered the first day, his voice laced with disdain. “Must be convenient. Watching the world burn and still having time to go shopping for new clothes.”

You didn’t answer. You had already seen him before, back in 1941. You watched him smile at girls in alleyways, crack jokes beside Steve, protect the innocent with quiet bravery. You admired him long before Hydra’s claws dragged him into something monstrous. But now, here he was, half the man you remembered, and twice as cruel.

You held your pain in silence.

He continued. Every mission, every training session, every passing comment was another knife.

“Stay out of my way.”

“You’re not as useful as you think.”

“Just another freak Tony picked up.”

It began subtly.

The jabs. The glances. The indifference.

You would enter a room, and he would leave. You would contribute something in a mission debrief, and he’d counter it with a clipped “That doesn’t make sense” without looking at you. The others didn’t notice, not at first.

But Steve did.

“You alright?” he asked one night in the kitchen, finding you standing alone, arms resting on the counter as you stared into a mug of tea long gone cold.

You didn’t look up. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve shrugged, leaning beside you. “Bucky’s… intense. But he’s not a bad guy.”

You nodded. “He hates me.”

“No,” Steve said gently. “He hates himself.”

You turned to him. “Then why does he take it out on me?”

Steve couldn’t answer that.

Days past and it got worse.

“Why are you always hovering?” Bucky snapped one day during recon prep. “Do you enjoy being some kind of shadow?

You didn’t answer.

“You think standing around makes you useful?”

Still, silence.

“I don’t care how old you are. Experience doesn’t mean anything if you just watch while the rest of us bleed.”

That one hit you hard. Steve stepped forward, brows knitted, but you raised a hand to stop him. You turned to Bucky, slowly, and said “I’ve seen more blood than you could ever imagine, James.”

And for a moment, the silence was deafening.

But Bucky’s expression didn’t soften. “Then maybe it’s time you stopped hiding behind it.” After those words you left the room with no words.

You stopped speaking to him after that. Not out of anger. Out of exhaustion. Immortality doesn’t protect your heart, it just makes the wounds older.

Steve noticed the shift quickly. You still showed up to briefings. Still trained with Natasha. Still ran ops with the rest of the team. But you didn’t linger. You didn’t speak unless spoken to. You avoided the rec room when Bucky was there. You chose silence over proximity. Steve filled the space.

He started bringing you coffee. Joined you in the quiet corner of the library. Asked questions about history you’d lived through. Sometimes, he didn’t speak at all. He just sat beside you, sharing the same quiet that had once made you feel so alone.

One day, while on a rooftop stakeout, he passed you a protein bar and said “You know, I think you might be the only person here who’s actually more patient than me.”

You smiled faintly. “That’s debatable.”

He grinned. “I like the debate.”

For the first time in weeks, you let a genuine laugh escape. And Bucky, watching through binoculars from the rooftop across the alley, felt something in his chest go rigid.

The next morning, he tried to flirt with a SHIELD agent. She was pretty, easy to talk to, but when she leaned in, all he saw were your eyes.

Steve found him two days later standing in the compound’s garage, staring off at nothing.

“You good?” Steve asked casually, but his voice was low.

“Yeah,” Bucky said.

“You sure? You’ve been weird lately.” Steve leaned against the wall. “Is it about her?” Bucky didn’t respond.

“I’ve been thinking,” Steve continued. “About asking her out.” Bucky’s body stiffened.

“She’s smart,” Steve added. “Brave. Loyal. And she deserves someone who’ll protect her. I… I could see a future with her, Buck.”

Bucky had a long pause before he replied. “She’s not yours, Steve.”

Steve looked at him, brows lifting. “You like her?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “More than I want to.”

“Then why haven’t you told her?”

“Because I ruined everything before it even started. Because I don’t know how to not hurt the things I care about.”

Steve gave a sad little smile. “Then maybe stop pushing her away and fight for her.”

Bucky stared at the wall. “Would you step back if I did?”

Steve’s smile faded. “I don’t think she’s a prize to be won, Buck. But yeah, I’d rather lose to you than watch her think no one wants her.” There was no bitterness in Steve’s voice. That made it worse.

Bucky stayed quiet, and Steve patted his shoulder before walking away. That was the moment Bucky decided to try. To show you something different. But he was too late. You were already too numb.

He tried, in his clumsy way. Sitting near you. Helping on missions. Small compliments muttered under his breath. But you barely looked at him.

The next time you spoke, it was during a debrief. Your tone was flat. Cold. “I’m not your problem, Barnes. So don’t act like you care now.”

He snapped “Maybe if you didn’t act like you wanted every man’s attention, people would actually take you seriously.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. You looked at him like he had just torn open your chest. For a second, he saw tears forming, but you blinked them away, turned on your heel, and walked out. Not a word.

Steve shoved Bucky into a wall later that night. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Bucky said nothing. He didn’t know how to explain the sickness inside him. “I was gonna tell her I liked her,” Steve whispered. “But now she won’t even look at either of us.”

Bucky closed his eyes. “I think I broke her.” And he had.

You didn’t speak for three days. You didn’t eat. You stayed in your room. Then one morning, you were gone.

Tony triggered a search. Wanda was the first to feel it, your pain. Your fear.

“Hydra,” she whispered. “They took her.”

———————————————————

When you woke, the room smelled like chemicals and death.

Chains. Lights. Blood.

Alexander Pierce stepped into view, old but still composed, like death’s secretary.

“You really should’ve stayed hidden,” he said, voice calm. “You’ve lived this long, haven’t you? Why come crawling back to a world that doesn’t want you?” You didn’t answer.

“I’ve studied you,” he continued. “You regenerate. You adapt. But every time you die, there’s a moment, just a brief flicker, where your brain resets. Memory, morality, hope. All malleable.”

He leaned closer. “Imagine what we could do with someone like you… if we could reprogram the reset.”

You looked him in the eye and said, “Then kill me.”

He smiled. “Gladly.” They did. Again and again.

And every time you came back, weaker. Slower. Until eventually… you stopped wanting to.

Hydra had taken many things from Bucky Barnes, time, memory, humanity. But what they took now, the one person who had always seen him beyond the monster, they wouldn’t walk away from that.

Tony tracked your signal to an abandoned facility in the Balkans. It was old, buried beneath snow and concrete, forgotten by the world, except by Hydra.

Bucky and Steve led the mission.

As the Quinjet roared over the mountains, the silence between them was nearly unbearable.

“You think she’ll hate me?” Bucky finally asked.

Steve didn’t answer right away. “Maybe. But right now, she needs us. So save your self-loathing for later.”

The corridors of the base were soaked in darkness and stale blood. The red emergency lights pulsed like a heartbeat as Bucky moved ahead of Steve, rifle in one hand, knife in the other.

They found you in the center of a reinforced holding chamber, your body slumped forward in a bloodstained chair, wires and electrodes trailing from your limbs. Your head hung low, chest barely rising. Bruises covered your skin like inkblots on fragile parchment. Every breath you took looked like it might be your last.

But before either Bucky or Steve could break the glass…

A voice echoed from the hallway. “You should let her finish dying, boys. You have no idea what she really is.” They turned.

Alexander Pierce emerged from the shadows, clad in a crisp black coat, looking more like a surgeon than a madman. His hair was thinner, his face older, but his eyes glinted with that same quiet malice Bucky remembered from before.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Steve spat.

“Hydra has a habit of surviving, Captain.”

Bucky raised his weapon, but Pierce didn’t flinch.

“She’s not just some pretty face with a sharp tongue. She’s an anomaly. A miracle. The closest thing to divinity this world’s ever seen.”

Pierce stepped forward, fingers flicking a small remote. The wall behind him hummed, then flickered to life.

A screen dropped down, buzzing with static.

“Let me show you what your little goddess is capable of.”

The screen cleared, and what followed made Bucky’s stomach twist.

The video played in grainy clarity, You. Strapped to a gurney. Your eyes wide, wild, tears streaking down your face. You thrashed, convulsed. Screamed.

“Please! Please stop—!”

Electricity surged through you in the footage. Your body jolted, your spine arching unnaturally. One of the Hydra agents barked, “Record this one. She lasted thirteen minutes last time.”

“Again,” said another voice. “We’re testing her pain threshold.” You sobbed in the video. Raw. Animalistic.

Steve’s hands balled into fists. “Turn it off.” But Pierce only raised the volume.

“Please! Bucky—Steve—anyone—please—!”

In the present, you didn’t move. You sat limp and broken in the chamber behind Pierce, still alive, but silent.

Bucky’s eyes were wide, frozen in horror.

Pierce turned to him. “She called for you. Every time. Your name. As if you were some sort of salvation.”

“Stop it,” Bucky rasped.

“She thought you’d come. But you didn’t. Nobody did. And so we killed her. Again. And again. Eighteen times now, I believe.”

Steve lunged forward, slamming Pierce against the glass. “You sick bastard!”

But Bucky hadn’t moved. He was still staring at the screen, watching your broken body seize and scream his name like a prayer, and realizing he never answered. Not once.

“You wanted to weaponize her,” Steve growled.

Pierce chuckled. “No. I wanted to understand her. But we pushed her too far. She’s… stopped healing now. A pity.”

Click.

Bucky’s rifle was suddenly aimed at Pierce’s skull. The smirk on the Hydra commander’s face didn’t fade.

“Now you want to save her?” Pierce said calmly. “After what you said? After all you ignored? Funny how guilt works.” Bucky fired.

The bullet tore clean through Pierce’s kneecap. He dropped to the floor screaming, blood blooming beneath him. “I’m not here to save her because I feel guilty,” Bucky growled, stepping over him. “I’m here because she deserved better. And I was too much of a coward to admit I ever loved her.”

He turned, heart thundering as he faced the chamber. Steve moved beside him, hands pressed against the reinforced glass. “She’s barely breathing.”

They worked together to crack the lock. Bucky punched through the interface while Steve tore through the hinges with brute strength. As the door finally hissed open, a wave of cold air swept over them. You didn’t look up. Didn’t even flinch. Your eyes were open, but vacant. Hollow.

Bucky dropped beside you, slowly unbuckling the restraints around your wrists. Blood stuck to his fingers. Bruises ringed your skin like fading ink.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “It’s me. We’re here.”

Your lips trembled. Not in recognition. But because you were still mouthing a name. His name. From hours or days, of calling it in agony.

Steve watched in silence, his jaw trembling. “She never stopped believing someone would come.” And now that someone was too late.

The quinjet trembled as it cut through the clouds, but inside, the world was still.

Bucky sat on the floor beside your stretcher, hunched over, his elbows on his knees. He hadn’t spoken since they lifted you into the jet. His right hand, flesh and warm, held your limp fingers. His metal hand stayed clenched on his lap, jaw locked so tightly it looked like it might crack.

Steve stood at the far end of the cabin, arms crossed, watching the rise and fall of your chest as if willing it to keep going.

There was a line of blood trailing from your mouth to your collarbone, dried and dark like rust. Your eyes were half-lidded, fluttering with what little strength your body could summon. But there was no spark of immortality left. No quiet energy humming in your skin like before.

Just exhaustion. Just fragility.

Wanda waited at the Avengers Compound the moment the quinjet landed. As soon as the ramp lowered and she saw your body, she took a single step forward, and stopped. She clutched her chest.

“No,” she whispered. Everyone turned toward her.

“She’s dying,” Wanda said, her voice breaking. “I can feel her. She’s… closing.”

“No,” Bucky rasped. He picked you up from the stretcher, carefully, as if you were made of glass. “No. She heals. She always heals.”

“She doesn’t want to anymore,” Wanda said. And somehow, that was worse.

Inside the infirmary, Tony, Bruce, Sam, and Natasha all stood in silence as Bucky carried you in. The others parted like the tide, making space. Nobody tried to stop him, not even Bruce, who knew better than to intervene with medical logic when it came to something that had already made its choice.

You were laid gently on a soft medical bed, wrapped in sheets that looked far too clean, far too warm for a body this cold.

Nat moved beside you and took your hand. But your eyes didn’t follow her. You looked at Bucky. Not with anger. Not even with sadness. Just a tired kind of affection.

Steve stepped forward, clearing his throat as his voice wavered. “Y/N… you’re going to be okay, alright? You’re just tired. We’ll fix this. We’ll—”

You reached out and weakly pressed your hand to his chest. Steve went silent. You smiled.

A soft, broken little thing. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For always being kind.” It hit him like a knife.

Steve knelt beside the bed, eyes shining. “I was hoping I’d get the chance to ask you out. Like a proper gentleman. When you were ready.”

“I think,” you said gently, “part of me always loved you.” He blinked fast.

“But not the part I wanted to,” you finished.

You looked at everyone, your family. The ones who never knew your full story but accepted you anyway.

“Thank you,” you said. “For giving me a home.” And then your eyes landed on him.

Bucky.

He hadn’t spoken a word. Just stood there, staring, like the air had been punched out of his chest.

“Come here,” you whispered.

He stepped forward. Like a man on a tightrope, afraid the ground would open beneath him.

You reached for his hand. He took it. His skin trembled.

“You hurt me,” you said. “Worse than Hydra ever did. The air left his lungs.

“I know,” he rasped. “I know I did.”

“I loved you. Since 1943. Since the fairgrounds and the crooked tie and the way you danced when no one watched.”

He choked. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

You gave him a tearful, breathless smile. “Would it have changed anything?”

He lowered his head, pressing it against your hand. “It would’ve changed everything.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes bloodshot. “No. It’s not. It’s not okay. I was cruel. I treated you like you were something disposable. And when I saw Steve love you the way I should have—”

“You got scared,” you whispered.

“I got selfish,” he corrected. “And angry. And so I said things… God, the things I said.”

“I know,” you said.

“I didn’t mean any of it. I just wanted to push you away before you left me first.”

You cupped his cheek. “I was never going to leave.”

He broke. A single sob escaped him, then another. His head bowed against your hand as if it were the only thing tethering him to earth. And then you spoke.

“James Buchanan Barnes.” His eyes flicked up.

“I love you.”

Three words.

And just like that, the world stopped spinning. Your hand went still. Your lips parted slightly, but no sound followed. Bucky froze.

“Y/N?”

Silence.

“Y/N…?”

Stillness.

“Please,” he begged. “Please don’t—please don’t go—I’m here—I’m right here—” But your eyes had already gone soft. And empty. And quiet.

Steve turned away, pressing his fist to his mouth to stifle the sound that escaped him.

Wanda wept openly.

Natasha placed her hand over your heart. Waited. Listened.

Then lowered her head.

“She’s gone.”

Bucky didn’t move. Couldn’t. He just sat there, holding your lifeless hand, unable to comprehend how someone who survived decades of death had chosen, finally, quietly, not to survive this.

He pressed your palm to his cheek and whispered, “If I had known…”

And then,

“I would’ve loved you right.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue of Until her Last Breath

See my other stories here >>> Masterlist <<<

[tmntxthings]

Author’s notes: short lil drabble ish cause i don’t ever remember writing leo as a yandere, have i only ever done donnie???

Warnings: yandere tendencies, stalking, implied murder, intimidation, gaslighting, manipulation, unedited

Song: House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls by The Weeknd

—————————————————————————

Yandere!Leonardo who is tired of watching you. He’s itching to talk to you. To have your eyes finally recognize the shadow that follows after you. For that attention you give so freely to be his. No one else should matter, you’re his whole world. It’s only fair if he becomes yours in return.

Yandere!Leonardo who seamlessly enters your life like it wasn’t pre-meditated. Like he hadn’t planned every minute detail. He was meticulous when it came to you. Think of him as your knight in shining armor. Come to him with all your troubles.

Yandere!Leonardo who fixes all of those issues that you have. Your neighbors in the apartment aren’t as loud anymore, actually you haven’t heard them fighting for a couple nights now. They must’ve made up or maybe even broke up! Either way it didn’t matter to you, finally you could get a good nights rest.

Yandere!Leonardo who starts draping himself over you. You guys are friends now. Friends touch! It takes some getting used to, but don’t worry it’ll be second nature soon. Don’t think too much about it. His frame leaning into yours, his arms going over your shoulders. He’s tired, he stayed up too late again. Won’t you let him rest against you for a little while? He’ll even close his eyes.

Yandere!Leonardo who thought he had taken care of all your little love interests. But he portals over unannounced only to hear you gushing about this new guy, someone from your finance class. He creeps closer to your bedroom door, it’s cracked open, just a sliver. He peers through to see you bouncing around, jumping on your bed to kick your feet out happily.

Yandere!Leonardo whose eyes grow cold as the phone call hangs up. Words of encouragement were given to you. To finally go after a crush since the last couple had gone so horribly. He thinks this kind of puppy love isn’t good for you. Why can’t you just catch on already? Does he have to spell it out for you?

The door creaks open.

You lurch up, smile disappearing from your face.

So does your flush. You look ashen now.

Maybe it was because he had a sword out.

He’d never pointed one towards you.

Despite his weapon now facing you, he tilts his head and tries for a smile. It’s strained, his eyes looking at you with barely restrained mania. It’s been hard keeping his true self hidden from you. The side that wants to whisk you away and keep you from the rest of the world. No one else deserves you. Your happiness. Your smiles. Your attention, that was all his.

“You belong to me.”

—————————————————————————