#Various OC's

[kachowden]

𝙸 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢

| Hockey TeamVarious x Reader

Солнышко (Little Sun)

Yandere x reader (Part 1?)

—————————————————————————

An idea I have had for a while now.

So imagine yourself on a team. Except you’re not a player, no.

Actually..you’re technically not on the team because you’re one of a few people who rotates your position. You’re the mascot.

The beloved silly mascot of your team. The logo, the literal image of your hockey team. And you’re damn good too!

You get the crowds roaring, positively pumped-up for the game! And whether your team wins or loses, the highlights are always the silly little mascot who throws popcorn into the crowd or tosses shirts at unsuspecting families.

From time to time during the game you’d make your way onto the ice. Play fight with the team, steal a puck, steal a stick. Toss them to a crowd member. It was always in good fun, and the audience loved it!

And you weren’t just beloved by the fans, oh no no no, you were beloved by the team too.

So much so that at some point, the demand for your specific “mascotting” was so great, the other workers had to find a new career path. Damn shame too, you happened to like them quite a bit. But extra pay right? And it’s hard to deny how flattering it is being the fan favorite.

Of course it didn’t even cross your mind to question these circumstances, nor did you think to question the sudden increasing interactions you had with the team. Publicity, you assumed.

From number 47 dragging you onto the ice for some impromptu lessons. Still in costume might I add. Mid Play.

To number 13 laughing joyfully as he shoved you into the locker room after an intense game, and offered to wash your back for spending so long in such a sweaty suit. You denied him of course, the locker rooms weren’t meant for you! Duh.

You didn’t even question when number 1, the captain and goalie of the team, braced you against a barrier during half time, when your mask had precariously been knocked off by a rowdy fan. Nor did you see the viscous scowls directed at said fan. It was probably just keep your identity safe after all.

The score was 7 to 0 that game, in favour of your team. You weren’t sure what had pumped them up so much but whatever works right?

Course, you did get a puck to the cheek at one point and had to sub out for a bit. The players were non too happy when they discovered a different worker under your special suit. They were in a bad mood for the remainder of the game.

Number 19, who had a pension for bad behavior on the ice, sought you out specifically after the game too.

———-47—————19————1—————13———-

Your shoulders sagged tiredly against the cool wall of the changing room, blessing the AC that pumped through the units. Your jersey stuck sweatily to your skin, and you gasped with a dry mouth before a gloved hand appeared in your vision, a water bottle covered in condensation presented before you like a holy grail.

“You look like shit.” A scratchy voice scolds lightly by your ear, your eyes fluttering to glance at the rugged features of one of the team players settled besides your face, wedged deep into your personal space. The scent of sweat and body spray (axe probably) wafts into your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch instinctively before you give a lopsided smile.

“Hey Donovan, s’nice to see you. How’s the play been?” You gratefully take the cold bottle from his grasp, finger tips grazing the rough and warm texture of his gloves before meeting the cool plastic of the team merchandise bottle. Your little mascot stared back at you in a 2D style.

“Shitty. You’re supposed to be out there, not some random loser who can’t even get the crowd excited right. Now the teams pissed and it’s your fault.” His words end in a sneer, despite the attentive way his eyes are raking across your figure for injury beyond the welt on your cheek bone. His body near touches yours and causes another wave of sweat to seep into your skin.

With a thoughtful hum and a sip of refreshing water you push yourself from the locker, stepping into the more open air and cooling yourself off, while dark brown eyes watch you beneath a furrowed, displeased brow.

“Your guys’s concern flatters me. It’s nice having such thoughtful co-workers.” Your lips smile thoughtfully, glancing at him from your shoulder.

He looks incredulous, which somehow lands on being the least aggressive expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“Co-workers?” He echoes, like the word is the most foul tasting thing that’s ever touched his tongue. “We’re teammates. Not co-workers.”

You wave your hand dismissively, back turned and unaware of the tall figure that approaches your bubble again from behind. “Well, you and the guys definitely are. Maybe even the ice scrapers, though I’d argue they’re in the same realm as me to be honest. More staff than anything yknow?” Your tone is light, you know what your position is. And of course you’re grateful to be the main mascot, but you’re aware of your replacements that stand idle at the food stands, handing out popcorn between half times.

“I mean I’m just the person in the suit, anyone could play that part. I just hope I could train the next guy that signs up for the position, gotta make sure they do my legacy justice right-“

Big hands, no longer covered by scratchy material grip into your hips, swallowing the skin in raw heat and tugging you backwards. Your feet stumble and trip for less then a second before you’ve collided into a broad chest. The feeling of a hot breath condenses on the back of your neck, covering up your barely escaped laugh and choke.

Hair tickles the side of your forehead, as Donovan leans over your shoulder. His eyes set forward to the opposing wall lockers just like your own, his thumbs rubbing thoughtless shapes into your skin. He exhales, like he’s just spent the last four hours dealing with an ill tempered toddler that he’s finally reached his wits end with.

“You’re stupid.”

Your lips part in offense, ready to defend your intelligence before you’re prematurely silenced by a new hand that joins the mass of limbs, and rests gently across your dry lips.

“Let him finish, Солнышко.”(Solnishko)*

A thick accent reverberates into your ears, your eyes darting up to meet pale blue ones that gaze back at you so sternly. White teeth peer past his lips in what was probably a smile, but looked like a show of dominance with the way his canines sunk into the bottom of his lip.

“Don’t you have a team to manage, Cap?” Donovan snarls, teeth bared with displeasure at his private time with you being interrupted. With his arms circling more around your figure in a loose version of a back hug. You stay trapped between the two behemoths that cease every noise and shift of your joints with careful hands.

Carlson smiles, a thoughtful one that softens at you, his eyes never leaving yours now that he has your full attention, something that raises Donovan’s ire significantly. “I heard our little mascot wasn’t doing to well. I wanted to check up on them. I may have heard your little conversation as well.”

The word “little” always manages to filter into Carlsons sentences. And while one could blame it on English only being his second language, his reputation for being the teams most well spoken member speaks volumes otherwise. No, the real reason would have to be the sheer height he holds above all others. The authority he possesses that seeps into the rink and every room he walks into.

It’s not a simple slip of the tongue. It’s a reminder. That he is above every one he meets. He is the captain, and what he says is absolute.

Even the way he gazes down at you screams this thought, bullying its way into your skull as your brain refuses to acknowledge the sheer possessive, demeaning energy that seeps from his figure into yours, despite the alarm bells it rings through your system.

“It breaks my heart, Солнышко. You should know better.” His thumb curves along your jaw, thoughtful again, and practiced, engulfing your entire chin in what could be a crushing grip. But it isn’t, and it never will be. Not to you anyway. “Have we not shown you how much we adore your support in the rink? Have we been too dismissive of you?” He continues, though the mocking edge is nearly unnoticeable.

Donovan’s breath huffs into the shell of your ear, his figure hunched over you like a protective cloak, eyes still staring daggers at the taller man. “You think the team can we wait for us to…help remind our dear mascot how much we care about them?”

There’s a thoughtful hum, eye contact still unbroken through each word. “I’m sure they’ll be mad they didn’t get to join…but their forms were lacking today. They could use the extra practice.”

Carlson leaned forward, sky like eyes darkening like the sea as his nose hovers mere breathes from your own. “And I’ve heard that teaching in…more intimate settings, can lead to greater success in many fields..”

.

.

.

.

.

“Again.”

“I will not think lowly of my position on the team, I will not think of myself as replaceable, because I am the best-“

“Fucking.”

“….the best fucking mascot in the world. I am irreplaceable. I am the best.”

“Very good. Again.”

“It’s been 30 minutes!”

“Well last time we did 15 and that still wasn’t enough, so now we must double our efforts, Солнышко. Again.”

“Afterwards I’ll buy you one of those pretzels you like. If you want, I guess.”

“…….yeah okay.”

[hana-no-seiiki]

YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT ME NOT F*CK ME!

yan! school grass (most handsome/perfect guy)/rival x crossdresser! male! reader x yan! friends - part one

tw/cw: mention of abusive parents (but not reader’s) and yandere themes. also your rival has some repressed sexual urges, he really needs to get laid or some head or something-

just read migi and dali and gahd NOW I WANNA WRITE A WHOLE CROSSDRESS /GENDERBENDER BL NOVEL IM IN HORRID ROTTING

Like I imagine this the best with stoic and/or tsun yans the best. You know those types that want to be perfect but only feels perfect when they’re with reader.

ive always loved these tropes as a kid, from mulan to that one tawog episode where darwin fell in love with fem! gumball and like this was even before i knew i wasnt cis but gahd AAAAAAA

also inspired by @moyazaika ‘s rival work. go read it!!

but anyways have the fic, lowercase intentional for first part to differentiate povs.

it was a dare given by your friend group earlier last weekend. wear the girls uniform and a wig for the entire month. it was easy to get the materials necessary for the most part. your mother had several wigs and was more than happy to style her son in feminine clothing. she was just amazing and supportive about your whims like that.

it didn’t take long for you to realize that no one recognized you in your new look.

the day started like many of your other ones at the school, you’d race your rival as the first one in class and whoever wins gets rights to a smug look on their face until the next thing you guys eventually compete on.

but unlike the crestfallen expression you expected — nay wanted — from that stupid pretty boy, you were greeted by what you could only described as complete bafflement.

“what?” despite having a different reaction from what you imagined, you managed to keep a composed appearance. “cat got your tongue?”

“ah. . .”

and that were the only words he said to you the entire day. nothing else. not a single groan of anger whenever you answered everything correctly, he didn’t even attempt at stopping you mid-way or disagree with you answer simply because he wanted to annoy you.

and so you couldn’t help it, as soon as the bell rang signalling lunch time you swiftly turned around to face him.

“are you alright?”

you inquired. not at all worried about his well-being at the slightest. you hated him with all your being after all and you didn’t make an effort to be soft with your tone either.

“h-huh?” he looked dazed. like his head had been in the clouds and you just yanked him down to ground.

your rival never got distracted.

“you—“ you reached out about to smack his face to keep him in check.

“if you’ll excuse me!” he smacked your hand out of the way, screeched at you, and then left in a hurry to who knows where.

nevermind that was definitely him. that silly brat hated it whenever you touched him. he must have just been having issues at home again or something.

Haoyu was trembling — shaking uncontrollably as his breaths turned more shallow by the second. His heart was pumping blood in places of his body where it shouldn’t have been in the middle of school hours. Sweat lined his entire skin and it didn’t help how the bathroom he rushed into had nothing to keep the temperature down.

Who were you?

You sat at his rival’s seat. That nasty kid that always got in his nerves. No one questioned the boy’s absence and he would have asked the teachers on what had happened if you didn’t suddenly take his breath away.

You were, ethereal. Otherworldy even. When he first saw you he was taken away by the way your hair moved in the wind (if only he knew . . .).

Still, he was far too distracted by [Y/N]’s absence to properly let the feeling simmer.

Then, all that went away when you reeled in his mind back at you again at class. You were incredible, capable, intelligent, and oh so perfect. But unlike that stupid child that usually sat in front of him, he did not feel an ounce of envy at all.

If only who could see your eyes as you spoke; the tone of your voice conveyed so much passion that he wanted to see in those beautiful (e/c) orbs.

And his prayers were granted by none other than the goddess that is you,

“Are you alright?”

Your voice? Oh your voice! Haoyu’s heard it already of course, but each new time you spoke it was like a whole new melody, a new piece that immediately turned into his favorite.

His mind was too fried with these thoughts, thoughts that his parents would no doubt beat out of him if they found out.

His feels the parts down there suddenly move. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon. He wasn’t without his hormones after all. But this was the first time it ever reacted that way so strongly, like if he didn’t give it attention himself it’d explode.

“Mmph…”

And for the time in his entire life, Haoyu does something he knew his parents would definitely be disappointed if not livid about. A hand on his mouth, and another in his school uniform’s pants.

lunch time.

you usually spent those studying or preparing for the next class as hanging out with your friends always ended with you being too distracted to do schoolwork but today you had to show up with ‘proof’ that you went through with their dare.

“yiran ? yichen ?”

no response.

you sighed. as usual, the twins were late. what did you expect? those two would be caught dead before they could be early much less found in the library.

and so you spent the entire time reading,

unaware of the crowd that formed around you while you were busy studying.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

tagging @onyanjune and @h0ly-l3mb for giving me the idea/motivation to do this lol

link to original post here

tw/cw: MDNI or you WILL be blocked, DDDNE, (skip for spoilers) yandere! reader, mentioned non/dub con, mentioned filming of said non/dubcon.

yan! cool kid has two siblings, your upperclassman and underclassman respectively. and it hella irritates him how close you are to the two.

ofc yan! reader’s intentions have and will always be depraved yearning. they only befriended the pair for the sake of “getting close to the in-laws.” after all you wouldn’t be a good future spouse if you weren’t somewhat involved in the family side of things.

but your tunnel vision sort of . . . backfired.

“quite a bunch of lunches you’re packing.” he mumbled, raising his head from his arms after a thorough nap through class. he had already studied everything that subject had to offer and thoroughly memorized it thanks to his notes that were covered in photos of you.

“oh these? these aren’t just for me, silly.” you answered. he already knew what you were planning, and you already knew that he knew, but keeping this façade of normalcy was a game you two liked to play, “you haven’t been bringing food to school recently i’ve noticed. so i made some more to share.”

“just one?”

you blinked at him, confused. laughing after you realize where his eyes were focused on. you explain that the rest will be going to his siblings, since you thought it may be a household / financial problem.

soon after that you took off, trying your best to hide the giddy feeling in your body threatening to spill unto your facial expressions.

yan! cool kid stares at his brand new lunch and wonders if you also cut out heart shaped potato for their curries, planning out ways to torture yan! loser later

yan! loser who’s yan! cool kid’s younger brother. they look so different, their demeanors even further apart. the only way you knew they were related was cause you stalked the latter on his way back home and almost killed the former before you found out.

you dropped by his class with a smile. his classmates staring at you with wide eyes as those in higher levels rarely ever go to this section of school.

“i hope you don’t mind, but i made lunch for you. is that okay?”

“is ThaT okAy?” he parroted back at you, his voice cracking, nerves on edge at all the people staring at the situation. he was going to eat lunch alone in the bathroom again like always but was occupied with erasing the marks left by his bullies on the table.

you laugh at his response, and set the lunch you prepared on his table.

you stare blankly at the brutal remarks written across. silently you walked outside before coming back with a spare table. you frown as the food you left remained untouched.

“you should eat first. lunch won’t last forever.”

you pat the poor boy’s back and left.

one last delivery til you were done.

you breathed in, knocking the door to the student council’s room. “mr. president, it’s me.”

“come in.”

yan! school president doesn’t even raise his head to look at you. his focus remaining on the papers in his hand and table. “leave the lunchbox there.” the bespectacled man points to your table in the room.

you set it down obediently and walked out. at least, you tried to until he stops you. “before you go, tell me why i shouldn’t report your actions to the faculty.”

you don’t turn around from the door, but still you answer, “hm, actions?”

“you, using school funds to pay for my youngest brother’s harassment.”

“…mmm…” you turned around, placing a hand on your chin in feigned deep thought “because . . . you love love love me?”

yan! president sighed. you hear paper shredding.

“you may go.”

you giggled. stepping outside of the stuffy room to go finally see your beloved again in class.

you put a hand in your pocket and fished out your phone. briefly smiling at the home screen wallpaper of yan! cool kid and quickly tapping out the password.

you then delete the video of yan! president tying you up as his unclothed hips slammed into yours. your skin covered in bites and slap marks all over. your eyes converging fear as tears fell and your mouth was gagged and unable to voice the feeling. the once prim and proper man man groaning in ecstasy and yelling words of degradation as he defiled you.

but you could only cringed at the words “i love you.” escaping his lips.

“a little reward for mercy i suppose.”

you stuff your phone back into your pocket. wondering if you should also warn him about the laxatives.

[jiaxxnscribbles]

got inspired by this post

[hallowshumour]

Various side characters for deans universe.🦨🦝🐐🦁

[spookberry]

magical embodiment of sapphic homoerotic friendships gives you magical girl powers, what do you do?

[voidedjuice]

Songstress robot model UTA-3305, assigned to entertain guests at a high-end restaurant. Currently slowly going out of order due to lacking maintenance, and the presence of foreign biological material growing inside it.

Though it is a robot, it wishes to come to understand the human emotions it's been made to sing about all its "life". Please do entertain it with your stories while you pass by.

[mizzyislost]

apparently theres some rain world fandom discourse going around?? thats crazy anyways heres my gourmand and artificer as one of my favorite pieces of sonic fanart (its the last one)

[abnomi]

i locked in too hard and fought tooth and nail with ibis paint to make this but by god i did it 🛌 THE FILE GOT CORRUPTED LIKE 5 TIMES. i think turbo is real and he is out to get me.

these are a collection of experiments i did to figure out how i want to draw The Freak! i certainly learned a lot. i love drawing characters in 50 different ways with no consistency its so fun moohahaha. expect more turbo art in the future (but probably less artistically chaotic as this turned out 👶 oopsays)

There's alternate versions under the cut + have a bonus doodle :-]<

good grief

[mtsodie]

Wondering... What does geek think about sax ruthie and dev... Do they get to meet

its kind of complicated since geek doesnt really . exist . in the telltale games universe which these guys live in 👆 but i imagine the trio comes along after the geek starts living in sam and maxes basement and they hang out together : ) she wants to dissect them

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

previous | story masterlist | next

The moment Xavier’s fangs pierce your skin, all you can think is that it fucking hurts.  

Honestly, the sensation can’t even be fully described in words. It’s sharp, and it stings, and even once you get past the initial pain of his fangs sinking into your flesh, they stay there, buried under the surface, making your neck throb and ache like never before.

Your eyes are shut. You don’t dare to open them and catch a glimpse of what’s happening. The pain is already more than enough

Still, you don’t even think of pulling away. You chose this, and you need this. God, you need the money so fucking bad.

Xavier holds you close, and you can’t help the whimper you let out as you hear him swallowing mouthfuls of your blood. It’s not just the pain that’s hard to stomach, but the sensation of being slowly drained of the precious liquid that’s meant to be keeping you alive.

This is unnatural. Under ordinary circumstances, this would never be happening.  

Then again, nothing about your life has ever been ordinary.  

You can feel your body swaying a bit, and you’re thankful that Xavier is holding onto you so tightly, otherwise you might have already collapsed from light-headedness. Come to think of it, you didn’t even ask how much blood you’re expected to give. Surely, he’ll stop eventually, right? Otherwise... 

Otherwise, you might actually die.  

Mercifully, Xavier pulls away just as that harrowing thought fills your mind, and you are immediately flooded with relief. 

At least, until you take a good look at his face.  

There’s blood all over his lips. Your blood. It’s a deep shade of crimson, and you realize, with a gulp, that you’ve never actually lost this much blood before, yet now, it’s staining the better portion of a stranger’s face.  

Xavier must have picked up on your frightened expression, because he quickly digs into his pocket and pulls out a napkin, then uses it to wipe his mouth.  

“There,” he says. “Is that better?”  

You nod hastily. You really don’t mean to offend him, but seeing something like that for the first time... it’s a bit difficult to brush aside.

Xavier stares at you for a few moments. You wonder if he still hasn’t had his fill yet, if he wants to go back in for more. The tender spot on your neck throbs painfully at the thought. 

But instead, he stands up, adjusts his tie, and nods.  

“That’ll be all,” he says. “Thank you for your cooperation. Please speak to the doctor if you happen to be feeling unwell.”  

He walks out without another word, and it kind of feels like a slap to the face. What you just did together can’t exactly be considered intimate, you suppose, but he still drank your goddamn blood, which as far as you're concerned, is a pretty big deal. To watch him carry on with such nonchalance is a harsh reminder that the two of you are completely different.  

Anyways, it’s finally over. You actually pulled it off, and even though it hurt like a bitch, you have every intention of doing it again.  

So long as you’re getting paid, of course.  

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asks. He steps in the room shortly after Xavier leaves, then walks over to you and examines the bite mark on your neck. “Just wait a moment. I’ll disinfect the area and give you a bandage.”  

He wipes your neck down, making sure to be as gentle as possible, applies a thin layer of some kind of ointment, then sticks on a cute little flower-shaped bandage.  

Once he’s done, there’s virtually no sign that a vampire was drinking your blood just a few minutes ago.  

“Blood pressure seems fine,” he remarks, removing the cuff from your arm. “Unless you’re concerned about something, I’d say you’re good to go.”  

Besides the dull pain coming from your neck every so often, and the fact that you’re perhaps a bit dizzy, you think you’ll be okay.  

“I’m good,” you nod. “It wasn’t so bad.”  

That part is a bit of a lie. It did hurt, after all. But you’re used to dealing with hardship, and if there’s anything your shitty life has taught you, it’s how to suck it up and endure.  

The doctor nods, then pulls out an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat. “Here. Your payment for today. As we explained in the contract, all payments will be delivered on-site, immediately after you’ve met with a client. However, it’s up to the client if they wish to see you again, which is why there is no fixed schedule for these appointments.”  

“There’s a chance he might not want to see me again?” you frown, taking the envelope into your hands. 

“It’s a possibility. All vampires have their own preferences, just like how humans prefer different kinds of food. But even if this particular client chooses not to proceed with your meetings, we can try to match you with a different client. Make sure to check your phone regularly so that we can update you on the situation.”  

Right. That makes sense. If the client isn’t satisfied with the quality of their blood, it goes without saying that they wouldn’t want to keep paying for it. It’s kind of like going to a restaurant and ending up with a gross, undercooked meal. Although the analogy is perhaps a bit crude.  

“Take it easy for the next little while,” the doctor suggests. “You seem perfectly fine, but you’ve still lost quite a bit of blood, so make sure to put your health first.”  

How cute. If only you had the luxury of doing that.  

Unfortunately, it’s time to go to work.  

You did it. Against all odds, you actually pulled it off.  

A few days have passed, and thanks to the payment from selling your blood, a few extra shifts you picked up, and cutting back on meals so that you wouldn’t have to buy groceries again, somehow, you managed to scrounge up all the money Johnny asked for.  

You watch, nervously, as he counts the cash you handed him, making sure to be as thorough as possible. It looks like he’s wary of counterfeit bills, or perhaps he just can’t believe that you actually found a way to pay him back.  

Whatever the case, this time, you’ve been spared.  

“Alright,” he says. “It’s all here. See? I knew you could do it. From now on, I expect this same amount every two weeks, like we agreed on.” 

He flashes you a shit-eating grin, then breezes past you, making sure to slap your ass right as he leaves. 

You grit your teeth, mortified. Of course, you don’t dare oppose him. You know all too well how things will end if you do.  

At least it worked. But meeting his demands every two weeks is going to be ridiculously difficult, and the only way you’ll pull it off is if Xavier calls on you again, or at the very least, another vampire decides to solicit your services.  

I never thought it would come to this. To think that I’m actually hoping someone will drink my blood. Life really is a constant fucking struggle.  

Nothing’s ever been easy for you. But perhaps things are finally about to change for the better.  

The screen of your phone lights up, and as you read the message that just appeared, your eyes widen. 

Xavier wants to meet with you again.  

“...disgusting,” Felix shudders. He shoves the other person away, much to their bewilderment. “You’re no good. I’ve tried so many of the humans that have signed up for this program, but all of them taste fucking nasty. This is a waste of my time. And don’t expect to be paid.”  

He sighs and leaves the room before the foul-tasting human can even protest. Yet another disappointment. To think that he was so excited to move to the big city and see what it had to offer, only to be let down like this.  

If this is how things are going to be, then he’s probably better off just obtaining blood pack rations directly from the government. They’re stale and disgusting, but clearly flesh blood is no different here, and he’ll save a lot of money.  

Right. That’s what he’ll do. As much as all vampires crave drinking blood directly from the source, what choice does he have, when everyone tastes like absolute shit?  

He’s just about to speak to one of the staff and let them know he’s done paying for this program, when suddenly, a sweet scent wafts by him.  

Felix immediately knows it’s you. Even for a vampire, his senses have always been unnaturally sharp. Perhaps that’s why he’s so picky when it comes to drinking blood. His taste buds are more sophisticated, more developed, so when something isn’t quite right, he can tell right away.  

The same is true for his sense of smell, although it’s rare for a human to smell so appealing, especially since you’re rather far away.  

In fact, it might be the very first time anyone has ever smelled this good to him.  

Felix watches you walk down the hall, escorted by one of the doctors. You must be here to sell your blood, and the longer he stares at you, the more he finds himself rethinking his earlier decision.  

A smile creeps onto his lips.  

“Well,” he chuckles softly, “maybe I should give it one last chance.” 

previous | story masterlist | next

More chapters are available on Quotev and Wattpad!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

🩸 main masterlist! ♡ character appearances

[clannfearrunt]

Rill Nykur's High School Nightmare that causes him endless stress. Mostly just Belle and Rem though tbh he respects Nine and barely registers Trev's existence. I actually had a doc detailing what each of them think of each other lol but here's also a simplified chart

Every day Rill dies approximately 30 to 40 times

[hana-no-seiiki]

okay but like himbo/bimbo/thembo reader who is such a fucking cinnamon roll that they solve all of the world’s problems because everyone and anyone is too afraid to disappoint them. even the goddamn fucking universe.

(not winnie the pooh parody inspiring me to write this)

like they’re literally too nice that people can’t help but fold to their whims.

yanderes murdering people?

reader politely asks them to stop because hurting people is not good and they would feel really bad if someone gets hurt, much less not live because of them.

everyone suddenly comes back from the dead.

war? suffering? natural disasters?

what even are those hahahahah

all solved. just make reader the ruler of the entire world; everyone and everything will be good.

reader gets kidnapped, creeped on, etc.?

the world actively tries to destroy the perpetrators. up until reader gently asks them if they could loosen the ropes binding them cause it hurts oh so badly and they can’t give people hugs like this.

and so you get freed with some reverse ransom right behind ya.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

YANDERE! MASOCHISTIC! PROTAGONIST x VILLAIN! READER x YANDERE! SERVANT

tw/cw: everyone’s gender is up to interpretation (if there are any discrepancies in the pronouns let me know). murder. this happens around the middle of the first part not after it, just in a different perspective.

[ first part ]

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!

It was bit of an understatement to call Abbadon your servant. They were your most loyal aide. Known as the harbinger of death to those that defied your rule. The Abyssal Advisor. It was through their work that you were able to grab ahold of your destiny.

They tortured, maimed and murdered for you. Countless of lives were destroyed by their hands. People with names, families, dreams — all gone because they simply failed to meet your expectations. They have conquered massive plots of lands and achieved many things that will never be put under their own name, but yours. They were with you every, single step of the way.

But you never gave them more than an ounce of your attention.

Many thought you were bloodthirsty, feral and an absolute nightmare. But to Abbadon you were anything but. You were simply a victim to the times. A soul bound for hell. Your ambitions were righteous in a way, but in execution not.

They did not care about that at all.

It was the way you’d annoyingly fixate on the person meant to kill you.

Did you not trust them?

Sure, every person that attempted to battle fate’s design failed abysmally but they were different. From the very beginning Abbadon was born, molded, put through fire and oil to be your perfect right hand man. Every order you’ve given was executed perfectly. Every task they have completed exceeded your expectations with its results.

So why wouldn’t you let them take care of Cassiel?

That annoying brat never seemed to die. Abaddon only saw them as a cockroach at most. A kid who had no right to share the luxuries you were afforded. Yet, they were never allowed to harm your sibling in any way.

And so they could only shove more tasks for you to do, distract you from what they saw as increasing affections towards your sibling and force you to leave Cassiel be.

But when they finally got the chance to kill the roach, you stood between them.

“Abbadon. Stand down.” You warned. They had flooded you with paperwork that day. Too much paperwork. You should have known it was due to ulterior motives. Trust slowly become something you could never afford.

“But—“ They protested. They were an inch away from beheading their target — Cassiel, who was now on their knees right behind you. They did not mind the dagger you had inches within their shoulder blade. But your eyes, Abbadon knew that look. It was the look of utter disappointment. They could not bear to see it any longer. “Understood.”

You sighed as your loyal servant tried their best to hide their anger, yet storming off the moment you dismissed them.

You knew how much that devil loathed failure above all else and who were you to make them go through that?

Cassiel sighed, maybe even moaned, in awe and ecstasy as they witnessed you defending them for once and asserting your dominance to your subordinate.

Oh, how they wished they were Abbadon.

©️ yoru.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

taglist: @the-dumber-scaramouche @justkouisenough @rxflen

[myokk]

Eloise🥹💓