#tw yandere-ish

[someweirdoreblogger]

You have an "admirer," apparently. One that has no sense oncesoever.

Odin, the All-father, iron fist of the Norse.

You use everything in your willpower, hidden deep, to not flip your shit each time he graces your weaker presence.

Odin comeths baring no warning. Does a King need formal reason to wander inside his own castle?

Suddenly, day after day, night after night-this intimidating figure finds you worthy of not just a simple glance.

Not a word spoken, without distraction nor misdirection. He is elegant down to how he walks, with purpose and unwavering resilience.

The All-father is supreme and tyrannical in godly definition, of the legendary Bifrost's chosen few. A rapid tide in constant pursuit, edgeless flood overcoming building after building in its merciless path of endless devastation, devouring those who dare oppose the roaring waves.

Odin is... just there.

Next to little ol' you, a lowly servant, the great All-father. Without a care in the world. The sheer audacity to treat this like it's not extremely unusual for an all-powerful god such as himself to take interest in another out of the blue, let alone someone so painstakingly simple. Someone never pinned on the radar of another god, definitely not one of their strongest ancients.

Either you found him, or likewise, the latter; waiting ever patiently by the bay of your active sector, stuck in the ground like a tree stump. Is he even breathing? Feet rooted, immoveable as stone.

It's hard to not miss him in this lightful realm, a towering candle of stern darkness-permeant arrogance written on his face. Wrinkles forming indifferent strokes, old indeed, but nevertheless immortal. Long scars, they decorate him in tight and unnerving brushes. A bleak void carries the stinging yellow jackets in his eyes, stoic, unrelenting. A force to be reckoned with, even then, any blind fool can tell this highly dangerous god homes a deep attractiveness mortals are blessed to witness. The devil is hideous on one hand, yet beautiful on another. People become frantic in trying to appease their quite unexpected guest, you can't blame them, if you didn't know what Odin was here for-vaguely at the very least-you would've tripped on yourself to ensure no bloodshed as well, no one wants to wipe up intestines and tethered remains off the walls. Frightened assistants question one another, curious bombarding. A sea of peeking servants and turning heads, eager but not too eager to learn the answer to the question lingering in everyone's mind- -Why Odin of all damn people is in private servant quarters? Endless blunt remarks of his loyal crows fill the air, interesting how they obviously contrast, scolding unlucky others getting far too close for their liking (Getting used to that nonstop bickering and annoying flaps of their feathery wings deserves a round of applause admittedly). Shouting in a voice you swear can be heard all across Heaven that the All-father needs not justify himself to weaker masses. And soon, the crowd disperses till Odin is all that remains, looking upon reality like it matters little to him in that current moment. Continues to stand moving not an inch, dead to the knowing world. Maybe he was ready to stay there for years, just for you. Ridiculous, but the determination itself is admirable, terrifying as the person it belonged too. Holding, distant, stubborn on holy soil older than your great grandfather until you're unfortunately noticed; The only servant Odin made eye-contact within the past few hours, a small part of you immediately died in that current moment. Caught. Well, better to accept fate then delay the inevitable.

Furthermore, Odin never fucking leaves. Unless swayed by the heavy burden of his responsibilities to Valhalla, he is practically glued to you. Hip to hip, never behind.

Where you least expect him, somehow, he has unadmitted reason for popping up into your vision like a mole, driven by curiosity.

Coincidentally, in your most favored places. Including personal ones.

(There next to your bed watching you sleep, there behind you during your break, there standing next to you as you dust the priceless artifacts of the great halls. Wherever you go Odin is almost certain to trail after, turning this into a childish game of follow the leader.

Odin goes where you go, regardless of actually where 'where' is. At this point, you can only expect but never predict. Quick as lightening, an invisible thundering sound in the distance, appearing where most convenient. Your face sinks the moment his face enters your sights, you won't shake him off matterless of whether or not you really tried, both stuck together till night falls from Olympus.

(Yeah right, you shaking off Odin. No fool can ever dream hard enough to achieve such a feat.)

It's an unlucky series of unwanted occurrences that all servants know better then to suggest otherwise.

You swear, this is on purpose. But for what?

Pleasure?

Curiosity?

This torture of constantly hanging on the end of the cliff, not knowing if someone behind you is waiting the perfect moment to push. To see you fall down into the bottomless abyss. Thor and Loki had to get their tendencies somewhere.

You are fairly confident in yourself, even when it comes to dealing with the gods. You have worked for Olympus long enough that little to nothing surprises you anymore. You've witnessed aplenty things, from disasters to miracles, you have never seen-

-this.)

And Odin just...stares at you the entire time, much to your intense confusion and unbridled fear.

Odin grants no hints and admits nothing, an intimidating statue of a great towering godfather who can erase your mortal existence off Heaven in under a millisecond. Completely and utterly unpredictable, reeking of boundless bloodlust and pure fighting prowess. Won't take the unrivaled intellect of Tesla to recognize Odin can't be a bearer of good news.

He irritates the sensitive hairs on your neck, pricked up, suffocating in fright. His aura scorches you, a transparent brand of godly fire. Daring you to move out of line, defiance is forever intolerable in the biased eyes of the Heavens. You can't imagine doing anything to potentially earn his ire.

You have no intention of betraying Valhalla, unfond as you are about the gods, not that you'd foolishly announce that to fucking Odin.

Your conclusions are empty stales of bread, no meat and cheese, sauce, mayonnaise or mustard. No excuse for this argumentatively, obsessive behavior about following you like a shitty puppy. You can't guess why Odin is even here to begin with, why he bothers you with never-ending oversight.

Thankfully, Odin only looks. Just watching.

Seems merely seeing you just living is a newfound hobby for Valhalla's ruling god, whatever that means for you.

As deeply unnerving as his constant observation is, you suppose it could be worse, as you and your beloved nymph friends speculate. All you can do is wait for something to happen. You take it as a sign to perform your duties more perfectly, though it was more out of crawling desperation to live than inspiration.

(You read and carefully organize the ancient books in a quiet, knowing patience.

Counting the lively torches upon the grand Olympian walls, which ones are lit, which aren't.

Writing down assigned addresses, preparing for the awaiting visitation of the next Pantheon for Hermes.)

Non-blinking, holes burning at the back of your head. Analyzing the most basic specks and wrinkles of your face and neckline, fair hair whistling silently against Winter winds. Eyes of an eagle locked onto their target, dreadfully focused. By far the most scared you have ever been in your entire life, and that's saying a lot from a mortal servant of the gods. Luckily, it gets easier and easier to ignore. Silence seems to be Odin's consistent trait.

Odin is a walking blank slate blessed with legs. He does nothing, says nothing, and acknowledges nothing. Nothing but you, in the slightest form of a distant bat of thick eyelashes thrown in your direction.

You can't be certain if that's better or worse.

Apart from constant observation spilling not a single question, Odin hasn't raised a hand or tried to bring upon you any sort of harm. Made not even the tiniest peep across your numerous encounters. Done anything other than made you incredibly creeped out.

Odin is a constant, looming shadow. A curse, razor-sharp, an unpredictable element of nature. A sinking feeling of never being left alone in peace, sticking on the very edge of every corner of your unrest. That dark gaze is something no one ever forgets.

Certainly not you, a victim of that judgmental pair of golden ores, staring into your soul. Every truth of you naked to his eyes, like glass.

You still have no clue why Odin decided that you must be the center of his undeterred attention.

(Oh, you poor unfortunate soul,

If only you knew the storm coming your way.)

[yaksha-lover]

You were made in the image of the angel.

That’s what Rollo believes when he spots you, a speckle of light, amongst your tainted peers. You’re truly captivating to him; one so untouched by all the disgusting, dark miasma that swarms you, swirling it’s depraved fingers through your hair.

Despite magic’s presence in your life, it’s never taken root inside of you. For that, you are beautiful; the antithesis to the wicked fae that he so loathed.

He should have known Malleus would try to corrupt you. The dragon was alluring: dark tresses spilling around his broad shoulders, his piercing green eyes, and those magnificent horns upon his head. As gorgeous and charismatic as the fallen angel himself; that was what made him so dangerous.

It’s not your fault you gave into Malleus’ temptation. Rollo knows even he could have strayed from his righteous path had he been less disciplined than he was.

Still, he can’t end the burning rage when he sees the way you’ve been seduced by that man, the mark he’s begun to leave upon you.

He calms himself for a moment.

He’ll have to deal with it. For every drop of himself that Malleus has put into you, Rollo will have to cleanse you by doing the same.

Every kiss, every nip at your neck, every skirting of hands across your thighs will need to be replaced with a touch of his own, that of a pious man.

He’s sure you’ll understand - it’s only the price to pay for salvation.

[yanderemommabean]

Down Bad Alpha Best friend

tw-blood mention, general disgusting creepy actions, be warned

Something something Yandere Alpha best friend being just a general creep, stealing your used and dirty underwear to jerk off into and spill their load into, slipping you muscle relaxers so they can just slide between your legs and sniff your underwear as they jerk off by humping the bed/couch, getting off when they see a bit of blood on you and wanting to lick any small wound you have, getting rock solid when they feed you by hand and wanting to see if they can force feed you more-

Just a very creepy and perverted down bad BFF in the Omegaverse

-Mommabean

[seakicker]

War god Childe who knocks up sweet little fertility goddess reader over and over again because he’s so obsessed with how her cute little body looks while it’s all swollen and full in the best of ways <3 - 🍁

100% THIS. war archon childe rubbing your soft, pregnant belly with his broad hands that have centuries and centuries-worth of bruises and callouses gained from training and fighting. there’s nothing more endearing than the sight of his beloved round and swollen with his babies, is there? he’s an impossibly overprotective husband who genuinely would kill anyone who so much as looks at you for a little too long… when you’ve been around as long as he has and when you’ve killed as many as he has, one can’t afford to take any chances when it comes to their sweet little spouse. you’re for his eyes only 💕

[grizzy-ly]

Depths (Nix!Krueger x Reader)

In which Krueger is a *completely* innocent water spirit who just wants to talk to you... C'mon, don't be harsh, sit down, relax, *hold your breath*-- or don't.

[Inspired by Dall ASMR's Nøkken series on YouTube]

I have been frothing at the mouth for more dedicated Krueger content, here is my offering for anyone else who has been put in a stranglehold by the other Austrian war criminal of the COD fandom-- if I had a nickel...

This is my first fanfic I've publicly posted online and my first truly sort-of completed one (may eventually write another part-- *eventually*), also posted it to my ao3: grizz_ly.

Reader is gender-neutral.

Word Count: 3,484

Content Warning: Yandere-ish behavior, attempted murder/drowning of reader, successful drowning/murder of other people, descriptions of drowning

────────────

“Do not venture close to the water,” you were incessantly warned upon first arriving, “Do not speak to it, and do not let it take you.”

When you tried to ask questions the townsfolk would shush you– it was taboo to speak about the lake or what it was. 

When prying anyway, you would get hushed pity directed toward those with sons and daughters who had been ripped from their loved ones; they would stray too far away from the safety of beaten trails and end up swallowed by the lake, spit back out onto the shore with blue-tinged skin and clouded, vacant eyes– now forever young. 

In the back of the local inn, when the locals had one too many, you’d hear the speculative whispers of it…

“... vengeance from a displeased water spirit?”

“... perhaps a curse from the devil himself… a punishment for our sin.”

“... they simply drank too much and believed themselves to be stronger swimmers than they were.”

As the discussions grew louder and slurred they would be scolded into silence, lest they invoke the lake’s wrath or fuel baseless superstition.

Whether one considered the tales of malevolent beings superstition or fact, one thing was certain– no one ventures to the lake. It was not worth the risk. Even the harshest skeptic carefully planned their routes away from the lake.

You too took great care to avoid the lake when you finally departed the village. Stepping onto the beaten grass of the worn path you began your several-day walk to the next point along your journey. As you passed by where the lake would be according to your map you heard the muffled sounds of… music?

You had heard many things out in the forest: birds chirping, the rustling of the brush as you stepped past, the gentle purrs of a rushing stream– but you had not heard music. You had never heard music this enchanting in fact.

You could not help yourself as you stepped off of the path into the tall grass that swayed in the breeze, and now with your movement. Your feet seemed to move on their own. You just wanted to… get a better listen to the music. As you ventured further away from the path you justified it with the notion that you would simply avoid getting too close to its edge. Just a look and listen wouldn’t hurt. How could it? It couldn’t. 

The ground underfoot grew soft as you maneuvered between trees and the tall grass transitioned to a lush moss. You soon found yourself on a raised ledge overlooking the water– though not too far up, the drop is only around half of your height. 

You can’t see the bottom of the lake; its visibility is done no favors by the tangles of weeds concealing the bed and lilies dotting the surface. The lake dazzles with the sun’s rays, though the overlook is dim due to the cover from the trees, which also allows for a comfortable chill to permeate the air.

Despite its serenity, it was… underwhelming.

You had expected something. With how dangerous the lake had been described– as a vicious, indiscriminate killer of the young– it was almost too calm, too peaceful, too… normal.

“Hallo,” a voice called out from a nearby rock peeking out of the water, it caused you to snap your head towards the source.

You size up the man. The first thing you notice is the net covering his face with foliage and other flora tucked into it, his attire besides that being plain garb and a cloak carelessly draped into the water, thus wetting the hem. The second thing you noticed was the instrument, a violin– likely the source of the music you heard.

As the silence dragged on it was broken by the sounds of a few strings of the violin being plucked as the man fiddles with it, “Ach… do not tell me you are too scared to speak? Schade…”

The stillness of the lake is emphasized by the quietness of this moment– why is it so quiet? No chirping birds, no rustling animals, no splashing fish… the only other noise besides your breathing is him slowly tuning his instrument.

“Hm…” you can see his veil shift as he seems to tilt his head, “That bad?”

“What do you mean?” You say slowly.

“What the townsfolk must have said to you…” he chuckles, “I must admit… I thought you’d run off by now, it’s been too long since anyone has spoken with me… the– the verdammt villagers blame me and paint me as a monster, but you– you don’t seem as… quick to assume, yes? Innocent until proven guilty, ja?”

You suppress a flinch at the momentary vitriol in his voice when talking about the townspeople, “I–”

“Please just… stay here with me for a moment and… speak to me? Bitte?” You can hear the hope in his pleading.

“... Alright.” You say with a hesitant nod.

“Thank you,” he says as he focuses back on his violin, after a beat he speaks again with a laugh, “You know… I asked if you could speak with me. I’m sure you have questions, so, ask them– just an idea. Just an idea.”

“Sorry, I–” you try to think of a question feeling suddenly pressured and struggling to find the right thing to ask. You settle on the most obvious, “What’s your name?”

“I go by many names… you can call me Krueger,” he says simply, “Yours?”

You give him your name and he simply hums in response. He is… not working with you here to help carry along the conversation to attempt to force you to speak more.

“...” you steel your nerves and force out your next question, “What are you?”

“Harmless–” Krueger laughs, “You treat me like I am going to bite your head off or drown you, relax some of that tension you’re carrying… I wouldn’t hurt a fly–” “You know what I mean,” you say hesitantly, “You’re not human. At least I don’t think you’re human.”

“Ach, I am offended,” he says shaking his head with a playful click of the tongue, “I am that awful? Not even a person… you hurt me so.”

“You… are you messing with me,” you ask.

“No… no, never, never,” Krueger says as he plucks the strings again before clicking his tongue, “Maybe– only a smidge…”

You then sit in the familiar lull of the conversation– you should get back to the trail, it’ll be a long walk and you start to feel like you’re wasting time.

“I should–” you begin but are quickly interrupted.

“Stay… stay?” Krueger says, “Yes, I agree. Aw… I’m sorry, am I getting to you, I don’t mean to… I just like to have a bit of fun… it’s in my nature…”

“I need to–” interrupted again.

“Is someone expecting you,” Krueger asks.

“...” You wonder if you should be honest, “No.”

Kruger huffs, “Then you do not need to leave. Sit, sit– just for a moment. It is peaceful here is it not? Take in the sights… it’s the journey that matters.”

You want to leave but at the same time… this… man? Creature? It doesn’t matter– Krueger does not seem like the monster you expected. What harm could humoring him do? Besides you feel intrigued by the strange man.

So you sit on a nearby log that is almost precariously close to the water, placing your packed belongings at your feet.

Kruger pauses, “You’re staying?”

“Should I g–”

“Bleib, geh nicht!” Krueger exclaims as he puts his arms out in a surrendering motion. He slowly relaxes, clearing his throat before he speaks again, “I mean– Of course, you would stay. Yes, yes. Of course”

You drum your fingers against the log as you watch Krueger. He climbs off of his rock and stands in the opaque water, keeping his violin held firmly on his shoulder.

“How deep is the water?” You ask.

“Not deep, no, not at all,” Krueger says, “Why? Would you like to join me?”

Not deep…

How could so many drown in shallow water? Your thoughts travel to your memories of the words of the townsfolk in the inn.

Krueger…

You feel your stomach sink as you reconsider your decision to stay. Krueger seems to sense your apprehension.

“Would you like to hear a song?” Krueger pleads, “It was my music that drew you here wasn’t it? I am quite the violinist, ja? I’m sure you’d love to hear the rest… surely…?”

You can’t deny that the music had drawn you here, and you did want to hear more.

You wave your hand, “Please, go ahead.”

Krueger adjusts his violin to rest against his shoulder, gently placing his chin on the rest. He moves his net off of the violin and then starts to play. His fingers move across the fingerboard, deftly weaving an intricate melody. The way he plays is hypnotizing. You rest your head on your closed fist as your expression goes from amused to moved. You don’t even notice him moving closer, too consumed by the music to pay attention to him slowly wading through the water towards you.

Before you realize it, he grabs at your bag, splashing away with something in his hand.

Your compass.

“Hey!” You say as you stand up, “You can’t just– give that back!”

Krueger slowly trudges back to the rock he had been sitting on, securing his violin on top before inspecting your compass.

“Ah, your compass is fine,” he announces as he inspects it, “I was just curious– since when was curiosity such a crime?”

You shake your head in disbelief, your features contorting into an anger-induced shock, “You can’t just– give that back. Now.”

He doesn’t seem to be listening to you instead muttering about the quality of the metal and craftsmanship of the compass.

“Are you– are you being serious!?” You yell, “Come back here!”

Krueger laughs slightly as he approaches the edge of the water again, “I apologize here…” As you reach for the compass he pulls his hand away, “-- It truly is a marvelous compass, where did you get it?” He seems so sincere and innocent– like he didn’t steal from you a moment ago.

“Krueger–”

“Oh, I do so love it when you say my name,” he says, “What is it?”

“You know exactly–”

“Ah, yes, your compass? Why do you need it? Wouldn’t you like to stay here a bit longer…” If you could see his face you are sure he’d be frowning.

“Krueger–!” 

“Oh, you spoil me so…” Krueger sighs, “You can have it back…” You put out your hand, but then nearly boil over as he completes his sentence, “If you come get it from me.”

“Give it.” You say.

“Take it,” he retorts, “The water is fine… what harm will it do? It is a nice day.”

You feel a chill run up your spine, “No. I…”

Your body realizes the danger of this situation before you do. You feel the phantom sensation of movement, your legs begging you to leave your compass and run.

“Give me my compass,” you say, but the waver in your voice betrays your faux confidence.

Krueger is still for a moment before he motions with his hand for you to come closer, “Fine.”

You stomp over, teetering on the edge of the lake and nearly losing your balance as you crouch. You seethe with anger as you jut your hand out, “Now.”

Krueger hands it back, you lean forward to try to grab it sooner as he moves agonizingly slow. Suddenly he lunges at you. In a swift movement clamps his hand onto your presented wrist and tugs you harshly. As you lose your balance you topple into the water. Time slows as you fall towards the water.

The lake is deeper than you had imagined– or maybe it just feels deeper as you aren’t allowed to bring yourself back above the surface with Krueger keeping you under.

Despite being under the surface you can hear him laugh as if you were still out of the water.

“What? Can you not swim?” Krueger coos as he tries to ensnare you in his arms further, “Or did you just not get enough air? Ah, did I take your breath away perhaps? … Well if I didn’t I will…”

You flail about in the darkness, your movements sluggish as you try to move your limbs in the water. You try to grasp at anything to orient yourself. Your feet connect with the bottom of the lake as you kick.

“Stop,” Krueger growls as he strains to try to hold you down, “It is not so bad. Stop– stop fighting.”

Panic runs icy hot in your veins.

“I know… I know…” Krueger says as you thrash in his arms, twisting and turning wildly, “Come now… don’t struggle. Don't you want the last thing you feel to be love? Why must you fight me… I just… want to hold you. Tsk, that is not so bad…”

The water stings your eyes.

“Let me hold you. Deep breaths… deep breaths…” Krueger murmurs trying to lull you to just give in, “Let me take you away from it all… rest… rest now… you’re safe… I’m here…”

Your lungs burn as your chest spasms.

Krueger speaks to you in a hushed tone full of affection, “I can’t help it… when I see someone as beautiful as you, I want to hold you, squeeze you, and preserve your beauty forever… wouldn’t you like to be forever beautiful… forever young… forever loved… lass dich lieben.”

Your mind runs amok as you seem unable to form any coherent thoughts not consumed by fear or spoken by your survival instinct.

“This moment would be so beautiful if you– if you would just let it!” He can’t keep his annoyance from bubbling up at your continued resistance.

Your vision vignettes, the dark water growing impossibly black. 

You want to let go. You want to stop fighting. You want to breathe… but you don’t want to die.

Your hands feel fabric and you pull, which elicits a yelp from Kreuger. Krueger stops trying to grasp you as you feel him move back in the water allowing you to resurface.

Your head pops back up above the water and you gulp air as you greedily fill your lungs. Your head reels and your eyes pound in your skull. Your heart hammers in your chest as you splash away, almost losing your balance several times as your feet slip against the slimy rocks lining the lake bed. You crash into the jagged face of the overlook you had been standing on, digging your back against it as you breathe through your bared teeth. You try to scramble up but it’s too slick to get a good grasp on any of the rocks, and the foliage just slides through your fingers.

You reach up to grab a dagger from your pack, brandishing it at Kreuger who is casually readjusting his veil. He is in no rush to get back to you. Instead, he allows you to tire yourself out as you fruitlessly try to drag yourself from the lake, scuffing up your hands and back in the process.

“If you wanted to see me without the veil you could have asked,” Krueger says, “I would have said no, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“You–” You say through harsh breaths, “You– Why?!”

“It’s not personal… you humans always take everything so personally,” Krueger tuts, “You put up quite the fight… impressive, almost.”

“You’re a monster–” “I am not… well, perhaps I am a monster, but not like that… I am a monster with feelings… that you just hurt.” Krueger tries to trudge towards you but stops as you wave your dagger around, reminding him of what the consequences would be if he got too close, “Do you even care that you hurt them? Ach… who is the real monster. Hm?”

“You!” You scoff, “You are the monster!”

“I am not a monster…” Krueger takes a deep breath, “I am simply… following the natural order of things. I am innocent in all of this.”

“Innocent?!” You exclaim, “Innocent?!”

“Yes, yes, that is what I said I am glad you are listening,” Krueger says, “I am innocent. As are you–”

“You are–” You let out a frustrated yell as you try to clamber out of the water again to no avail.

“I’m what?” Krueger just watches you, amused by your behavior, “I know what you are… a fighter, ja? It’d be so much easier if you accepted this…”

You start to swear at Krueger, cursing him out. You internally curse yourself for having gotten into this situation.

“You’re a murderer,” you say, “How many people–” You can’t even choke out the words through your disgust, “How many?”

“I am no murderer,” he scoffs, “I am simply doing what I am meant to do. I am innocent here, merely a victim of the natural order of things. Murderers kill unlawfully, none of what I do is unlawful as it is according to nature’s laws. I am not a murderer by definition.”

You stare at him with wide eyes and brows knitted in repulsed disbelief, your anger momentarily put on pause, “There is no way you’re being serious.”

“I know what you are thinking,” Krueger’s veil moves as he shakes his head, “I do not want you to be hurt, and I won’t hurt you– I am not cruel, I am not a monster. It wouldn’t hurt… you are not thinking straight… you are just panicking… let me hold you…”

Krueger attempts to move towards you again, reigniting your fury.

“Stop– stop swinging that thing about, you are going to hurt someone.” You almost slash Krueger’s arm as he reaches out towards you causing him to snap at you, “Schluss jetzt!”

He tries to lunge again to grab you. You plunge your dagger into the soft flesh of his inner arm.

“Scheißkerl!” Krueger exclaims as he clutches his arm and stumbles back.

You take your chance and grab onto an exposed tree root, hauling yourself onto the overlook in your adrenaline-fueled haste.

“No!” Krueger growls as he grabs your ankle. You had not noticed his claws, but they were impossible to ignore as they dug into you, surely drawing blood, “No! You will not leave! Stay! Stay with me! Stay!”

You flip yourself onto your back and kick at him, your foot connecting with his head. It barely phases him, only making him more desperate. He climbs further out of the water grasping onto one of your thighs with his hand as he tries to use it as an anchoring point to pull himself up, or pull you down– he wasn’t picky.

“You will die out in that forest!” Krueger says, “I am offering you a peaceful death in my arms–! I am offering you mercy– You should be thanking me–! Do you forget you don’t even have your compass?!”

You grab the strap of your pack with your hands not caring to make sure your belongings are secured before you lift it– far too consumed with your need to survive by any means necessary. Your belongings could be replaced, but you could not. You swing the heavy bag at Kreuger’s head staggering him back and causing him to slide down into the water. You crawl back from the lake securing your pack over your shoulder as you begin to make distance. Krueger screams, all pretenses of civility dead.

“You– you!” Krueger says, “You verdammter Wachbirn!”

You jump to your feet and run from the lake, hoping that you can find your way back to the path– praying that you will make it to your next destination. I’ll be fine, you think, follow the path, simple enough.

You are too focused on escaping from your brush with death to listen to the impotent rage of Krueger. “I could get you if I wanted to! You just aren’t worth the effort– you ungrateful– Ach! When you are delirious from starvation I hope you remember how you denied my offer! How you chose to die alone, painfully,” Krueger calls out, “I hope the last thing you feel is regret!”

Krueger grumbles, his face twitching as he watches you slowly fade from view, obscured by the branches and brambles of the woods. He grips the dagger lodged in his arm and wrenches it out with a grunt, too consumed by anger to even fully take in the pain.

“You left your dagger!” Kruger cries but receives no response.

He turns and throws the dagger as far as he can into the lake with a loud bark of frustration.

He slinks back into the water as he takes in the solitude that has been his only lasting companion, “They’ll be back… they always come back…”

────────────

Translations:

Hallo = Hello Ja = Yes Schade = A pity Verdammt = Damned Bitte = Please Bleib, geh nicht = Stay, don't go Lass dich lieben = Let yourself be loved Scheißkerl = Son of a bitch/Bastard Verdammter Wachbirn = Damned/Fucking Idiot (Austrian term for idiot)

[prettybabybaby]

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

based on this genius idea I had this morning: stalker!sirius but you know it’s sirius that’s stalking you because fuck not knowing who your stalker is

content: stalker!sirius, fem!reader

¡ marauders masterlist !

“i know what you’re wearing,” sirius’ velvety smooth voice says. your heart drops and your stomach twists. “you really thought you could hide from me?”

you exhale deeply and your waterline fills with tears. you scan your room, looking for any signs of how he could possible see you. your windows are shut tight, blackout curtains keeping out the golden light of the setting sun. your closet doors are wide open, piles of clothing ensuring that they don’t shut. paranoid, you lean down to glance underneath your bed. nothing.

“sirius,” you struggle to speak with the lump in your throat.

“you look so pretty in that color, love,” a shudder runs up your spine, making your shoulders shift. “are you wearing it just for me? y'know red's my favorite, don't you?”

he sighs through the phone, faint, slick sounds muddling with his steady breathing, "it's silk, isn't it?"

you can see his inky black hair when you close your eyes, his defined collarbones, and long, milky neck all tilted back. his chest rises and falls slowly. the dip atop his clavicle and the ridges between his ribs fade with every inhale. his fist strokes his erect cock, grip tight but agonizingly slow. "are you thinking about me? you are, aren't you?"

there's a light groan through the phone, the lewd sounds of sirius pumping himself ring in your ears.

"please leave me alone," your voice cracks, an involuntary sob bubbles from your throat. "i don't like this."

“aw, come on," his voice trails off. the wet sounds get louder by the second, almost like he's right beside you, bare milky skin and pitch-black hair invading your space as he touches himself to your fear. "don't be scared, doll. it's just me.”

a shiver runs through your body. it feels like the ghost of his hands, running down your sides and up your thighs, over the curve of your neck, and following the ridges of your spine.

your eyes flicker across the room again as fat tears stream down your face, racing down your throat and over the swells of your breasts. the red blinking light catches your eye.

"there you go!" sirius laughs lightly and then groans, "such a smart girl."

[icycoldninja]

A great misunderstanding (Yandere Reno x Fem!reader angst)

Tw: Toxic behavior, yandere behavior, cursing, and death threats. No sexual themes, but there is a great deal of swearing, enough to deem this R rated. If you are a minor or are uncomfortable with these themes, DNI.

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

"Where were you?" Reno demanded, voice sinister; eyes cold. You shivered in your chair, watching with fearful eyes as he crossed the room to glare down at you.

"I asked you a question, babe. I want it answered." You gulped, feeling your throat tighten and your mouth dry up.

"I was out, visiting some friends." This was the truth; you'd gone to visit a few girl friends and their brothers while Reno was at work and ended up getting stuck in traffic, thus arriving home late and incurring his wrath.

"Were you now?" He demanded, his playful voice having a sharp, steely edge to it. "And what friends were you out visiting?" He moved to stand directly in front of you, looming over you menacingly.

"Just a few girls....and-"

"And men?" Reno frowned, staring down at you with a face of displeasure. "I knew it." He grumbled, when you didn't respond. He cracked his knuckles and starting pacing back and forth in front of you. "You fucking whore. You were out, cheating on me!"

"Reno, that's not true," You protested, seeing that he was beginning to lose his temper. "You're misunder-"

"Not true?! Don't you lie to me, you goddamn fucking slut!" Reno picked up a nearby glass and threw it on the ground, shattering it. "You were out with men, men who were not me! You were being the goddamn slut you are--screwing around with bastards behind my back!"

"No, Reno! Calm down and let me explain-"

"Shut up! Shut up, you bitch! I don't need to hear your shitty excuses!" Reno turned and headed for the door, taking his Electro Mag Rod with him.

"Reno, wait, where are you going?!" You shouted, moving to follow him. Reno turned around, a sadistic, malicious glare in his eyes.

"I'm gonna find those friends of yours and teach them a lesson for dicking around with my girl." He tapped his weapon on his shoulder and grinned at you, baring his teeth in an almost animalistic manner before walking out the door, slamming it behind him.

[lilyworship]

Devoted Consumption

I feel as though I’ve been an emotionally distant fuckgirl. Everyone wants to taste me, to feel me, to obtain me. Yet they don’t understand what that would mean. To have me means to play the prey to my predator. To be mine means to submit yourself to my hunger, to my devotion. I am not a person who loves easily. I am not, have never been easy to love, I do not proclaim to be. 

Others may dream of sweet dates, flowers, wedding bells, and easy communication. I dream of devouring, of consuming until I carry a part of them with me forever. I want to push and pull with your heart until you feel like a pawn in a chess game or a rabbit between the fangs of my lips. To know that you put yourself in such a position, to give yourself freely to my whims. To know I’ve corrupted you for anyone else. You may hand over your body to others, maybe your heart if you’re lucky, but when they touch you, you will think of me. I will stain your skin with invisible brands of my passion. 

You may not like how I love you but yet you will never feel more seen or understood. I will learn the darkest parts of your psyche and smile while I stare down the abyss of your soul. I will drive you insane, and you will thank me for it. I will redefine your life. There will only be before and after me. If you have an after, for you may pass from this world will my name on your lips and your blood on mine. Isn’t that beautiful? To be known, to be revered, to be accepted? 

I love the way you smile when I bare my fangs. You know who I am, what I am, and yet you submit without second thought.

[liliallowed]

Idk why but I just see The Player watching Gravity Falls or Yandere Simulator and just being like "Lil Gideon having a revenge seeking crush on Mabel and Ayano's whole bullshit? HEY DUST, READER/Y/N! WANNA HAVE MY ATTITUDE TOWARDS BOTH OF YOU CHANGE FOR A DAY OR TWO??"

Idk man *dies*

[mishkakagehishka]

NO YOURE SO RIGHT okay exposing myself here but i love yanmika so much i think about him daily . imagine him drawing the most grotesque eroguro costume concept art of his darling and showing it to them as he describes in . TERRIFYING detail how he plans to recreate his drawing in real life ............

Head in hands i think about yanmika almost daily, too... it's such a guilty pleasure, bc he's one of those characters that don't seem, on the surface, as a yandere, but when you dig deeper... he is Unstable♡ And it's just so interesting! Under the cut for length.

I don't see yandere as a romantic trope, I write this as horror!! I don't try to romanticise this, I try to scare and shock the reader using this!

And this time, specific warnings: exploring Mika's sadistic side and descriptions of gore (though I kept it light since this is more of a stream-of-consciousness rant and not my usual writing), violence and blood! I couldn't bring myself to write the ero part of eroguro, but he's still a bit insane ab blood and gore, especially in the last few lines, so keep that in mind. This one got a bit heavier than usual, so let me know if there's anything that needs a specific tag/warning that I've missed

So, first things first, Mika, as a character, is so full of contrast and paradoxes. It's no wonder he's associated with creepy/cute and gurokawa imo because. On the surface, you would only see the cute/kawa aspect... but the more you read of his stories, and his lines, and he reveals bits and pieces of himself, from the fascination with the mysterious, to his love for creepy things, to. To the collection of "scary images" he keeps to. "Sleep better". And the lines where he gets all violently jealous or even where he takes human life a little too lightly (like the time he thought he'd killed Ritsu - one of his best friends - and his only concern was that Shu would be angry at him) and it's like. He's a little fucked up♡

And this is why I also think Mika could have a masochistic as well as sadistic side. As a yandere, he strikes me as the obsessive worshippy type - and that plays into his masochistic side. He wants his darling, who's like a deity to him, to give him attention and affection even though he believes he doesn't really deserve it. He'd even be fine with his darling yelling at or hitting him, he just wants to interact with them.

But, on the other hand... there's his jealous and violent side that would play into his sadistic side. It's not that Mika wants to kill or hurt his darling, they're still like a deity to him, but~~ He'd fantasise about knifing them sometimes. Not in a way that would kill them, his imagination is very unrealistic, he'd sigh while thinking about digging through their guts while they hug him and thank him and admit Mika is their favourite-! And then he'd probably feel guilty because it's his darling and there's still a large part of him that doesn't want them hurt. But maybe it'd be nice to help them with a papercut or nosebleed once, just so he can at least see what their blood looks like. He might even be lucky enough to walk away with the tissue used to stop the bleeding♡ but he'd feel less guilty of the violent fantasies if he feels Extremely Jealous. He thinks of covering himself in his darling's blood - and them in his own - as a way to cope with the jealousy. For some reason, he thinks it's intimate. So when his darling sees him storm off somewhere if he catches them praising another idol, it's because he's off steaming and probably even drawing out all his fantasies of chopping their tongue and hands off so they can never speak to anyone again.

And speaking of his art! He starts testing the boundaries after some time, showing his darling progressively worse and worse things. It starts off with someone having a nosebleed or an outfit with a golden ribcage - his Dark Romance outfit (a digression but omg... the fact that it's called Dark Romance. Mika, do you have something you want to share with the class) - and a few months later, his smile is so bright and innocent for someone showing off art of someone's intestines spilling out (doesn't he resemble that idol they said they liked the other day?) or a design for quite the provocative outfit featuring motifs of dried blood and organs. And then he starts telling his darling how much he wants to design an outfit for them! Aw, won't'cha let yer Mika make you yer very own fit?

But he doesn't give them much say, he assures them he knows - he's a full-fledged designer himself by now! - what would look good on them and what would fit them. But from the start, his intentions seem wrong. Firstly, the bottoms are entirely too short. As a compromise, he lengthens them to drop until their knees, and then comments that it's "cuter that way, anyway" so they can't even be sure he was actually compromising. Then the top is tight and low-cut - and he compromises by making the collar a turtleneck, but who even knows if that's any better. And the design is very... grim. The top has a rather realistic design of a chest opened - blood-dripping ribs behind which a heart is situated. You'd expect Mika to design them cartoonishly, but he's rather practised at it, so, thanks to the tightness of the top, it ends up looking rather 3D. The intestines are well-presented, too, and... everything seems to be dripping in blood. The bottoms, thankfully, are only in a matching black colour to the base of the top, and their normalcy kind of eases the darling into accepting it, even though the chains still give it a very edgy look.

He's nibbling on his thumb as he watches his darling try it on so he can make final adjustments. He gets fidgety. When the fitting is over, he asks them if they like it. It's probably grown on them by then, or they just feel bad because of how much time and effort he spent on it, but they say they do. And then he gets soooo happy, so overjoyed! He's so glad, he wasn't sure if they would like it, but he's so glad they did. He even asks for permission to hug them before leaning in, embracing them, and... starting his little ramble. About how he wishes he could actually open them up instead of just imagining what their guts look like. About how he wishes he didn't have to settle for keeping the tissues they used to stop nosebleeds and instead they could exchange blood yknow like a normal couple. About how he wishes he could one day be worthy of all his darling's expressions to be shown to him. Love, joy, pain, he just wants to see it all! And he wants to be the only one to see it, and he wants to show his own to his darling. Don't think him selfish or mean! He won't leave his darling wanting, he wants to bleed and be opened up as much as he wants them to bleed and for him to open them up. He just thinks it's so romantic, doesn't his darling agree? Don't they want to give it a try? He has the sewing scissors on hand already. Just a little cut, he'll let them make a matching one on his skin, wherever his darling chooses! Don't mind how deeply he's breathing and how much he's blushing the more he tries to convince them.

[faetreides]

yall ready for this dun dun dun dun dun

CANABALISM IMAGERY LET’S GOOOO (lol), no but i’m so excited for this like i really can’t explain it. i WILL be ready to sit down and devour this 🥴

[yaksha-lover]

Since we are all on a Lilia train today, I can't help but think about, in the medieval au, the MC slowly starting to be more and more attracted to Lilia instead of Malleus (maybe??? Even with Lilia reciprocating????)🤭 I love mess. Thoughts?

That would be a mess, lol.

It makes perfect sense for you to fall for Lilia, he is the head of the Kingsguard after all, the one you work under most of the time. With all the time you spend with him, it would be no wonder you fall for someone strong and caring like Lilia. Plus, he isn’t of noble birth so while he does have a high-status position now, it wouldn’t be unthinkable for the two of you to have a relationship (unlike you and Malleus).

However, Malleus would have a tantrum like no other if he realized you liked Lilia instead of him. As admirable as he knows Lilia is, he can’t imagine why you wouldn’t fall for him, a literal prince, instead. In this au, the royals are much more entitled than in canon. They’ve been told their whole lives that they are better than everyone, and so they’ve come to believe it. This goes for Malleus too, so he really can’t understand your choice, or even why you wouldn’t even realize he likes you in the first place because of the differences in social class.

Meanwhile for Lilia, this really is a disaster. He’s thought you were quite the cute thing for a while, but begins to consider things more sincerely when you start to drop hints about being interested in him. However, he is acutely aware of Malleus and would quickly realize the prince’s feelings towards you. As his guardian, Malleus and his happiness are his priority at all times, even over his own happiness. Even though he was interested in you, I think he might lightly reject you by saying the relationship wouldn’t be appropriate, at least not for now, and hope that eventually Malleus’ feelings for you fade away over time since he realizes you being with Malleus isn’t something anyone would accept.

This would be done with the intention of sparing Malleus’ feelings now, while hoping perhaps that you and him could pursue this relationship at a later time. Unfortunately, Lilia is wrong about this idea, and Malleus’ feelings are more than a little crush.

[harveyb-wabbit92]

[Slasher! Au, Emmet has his detective! Darling in his lair tied to his bed as he chats with them.]

Slasher! Emmet: Please, I’m not a serial killer..

E-S/o, stops struggling with their binds: Wait...Why did you emphasize ‘serial’?

Emmet, playing dumb: I did what? 

{Just then they hear the maintenance door being kicked in and  someone calling out his darling’s name; Emmet’s grin widens as pulls his mask down} 

Emmet, huskily: We’ll finish this later love~

{He goes to the door and pauses.}

Emmet: Oh... And Darling? Don’t even try to leave this room, cos I will find you!~

(Blows a startled E-S/o a kiss before locking the detective in his room, forcing them to listen to their colleague scream in agony as Emmet ‘plays’ with them.)

----------------------------------

@peachsodama

[bookandyarndragonwritesdark]

@theanimeoftheblackbunnymask this is my Darktober submission. It's a segment of the most recent chapter of my fic.

Megara stared stonily at her very naked reflection.  The hand bunched in her now free curls ensured it.  She’d have killed the pirate woman if she could have.  The demoness of a spider zoan met the princess’s eyes in the mirror as Black Maria viewed the results of the brief scuffle.   Megara could already feel the burn starting in her shoulders.  That malevolent she-devil made short work of Meg’s resistance the moment she’d jerked the girl back in front of that infernal mirror. Now Meg stood spread feet secured to the floor by spider webs, some sort of bar at her knees preventing her from closing legs.  To deepen the insult, the rope formerly serving as hair tie now connected the chains at her wrists to an overhead beam. The bitch had slowly pulled it taught until she’d been satisfied that Megara wouldn’t be able to slouch or hunch in.

    Black Maria released her grip on Megara’s hair to prowl around the younger woman making a last minute inspection on her handiwork.  “Ah yes, I think we’re almost ready to begin.” The purr in her voice sent chills down Megara’s spine.  The courtesan pulled a hair stick sized for Megara’s hair out of her sleeve.  With deliberate slowness she traced it up Megara’s spine before securing the princess’s curls into a simple knot.

    “Ah yes, now there’s nothing to impede your view.”  Spitefully Meg shut her eyes. A short sharp crack to the back of the head had the princess blinking back tears and stars.  “Now dear,” Black Maria chided gently, “I can’t have you doing that. Keep your eyes open.  You can’t even imagine the ways I can make this lesson worse for you.” Meg shivered from more than cold as Black Maria lightly traced arcing spirals on her back. 

    Black Maria continued before Megara could speak.  “The purpose of this lesson is two fold.  I told you, you will enjoy being bedded by Lord Kaidou tonight. This lesson will ensure it.” Meg retreated into poker-faced silence.  “the second purpose of the lesson is to continue on the first.  So let us begin.”  Black Maria moved from behind Megara to stand in front and to the side of her. With a deceptive gentleness she cupped Megara’s cheek. “I could teach you all sorts of interesting things on how to blend pain and pleasure but it’s best to start with the basics.  Your body has all sorts of erogenous zones.” A feathering caress traced it’s way down Megara’s cheek.  “Really anywhere there are nerve endings close to the surface, like the face and neck will do.” Black Maria griped Meg by hair preventing the princess from pulling away from the light stroking touches.  Meg tasted bile in the back of her throat. She couldn’t control her flinches. Naked and shamed Black Maria forced Megara to witness the molestation.

    “You’ll have to trust me when I tell you the lips are an erogenous zone as well.  You’re still quite feral and I’d just assume not be bitten. Now repeat back what I told you.”  Stony silence earned Megara a sharp crack across the cheek.  “Don’t make me ask you again princess,” Black Maria’s threat came out as a growling purr.

    Meg discarded the idea of spitting at the woman. Well and truly trapped she bit out. “Erogenous zones are places where the skin is sensitive and nerve endings are close to the surface like the face, neck, and lips.”  Damn this bitch to all the hells at the same time.  Megara felt her breath quicken as Black Maria’s fingertips ghosted along her back. 

    “My, my,” Black Maria teased. “Don’t we have a sensitive back?” She said more but Meg couldn't quite process what it was.  The world felt strangely disconnected. Had the pirate asked her a question?

    Meg yipped in pain as the woman smacked her behind.  “What did I say about not making me repeat myself? Your erogenous zones, girl!”

    “Face, neck, lips, back,” Megara’s voice sounded strange and hollow in her own ears. It seemed to belong to someone else somehow.

    “Good girl,” Normally Megara would have been livid at being praised like a dog.  Right now things seemed too distant for her to gather up the energy to care.  She couldn’t quite track what the spider woman was doing to her.  Then a hand squeezed her breast, hard. Megara heard her own voice as if echoed from someone else’s lips.

    “Face, neck, wrists, back, breasts.” Megara felt her body warm, core tightening involuntary as Black Maria squeezed, caressed, and tugged.  Dimly Megara was aware she wanted to fight, run away from the touch but she couldn’t.  Instead she lost herself in the floating fog trying vainly to keep the sensations at bay, murmuring an occasional response when Black Maria brought her enough pain to cut through the fog.  

 

    “A word if I might?” Who’s-Who’s voice jolted Megara back into awareness. The hand between her legs stopped and pulled away a fraction of a moment before Megara’s world imploded in unwelcome pleasure. Meg couldn’t be sure whether she wanted to weep in relief or frustration.

    Black Maria turned to scowl at her crew mate.  “You know I had that door locked for a reason. You will recall that this is Lord Kaido’s bride I’m breaking in.” Meg saw Who’s-Who’s reflection take a lazy drag of one of his ever present cigarettes. He leaned insolently against the door frame and let out the puff of smoke before answering.

    “I can see that,” he replied in admiring tones.  “I hardly want to tell you how to do your job.”

    “But you're going to do so anyhow?” Black Maria sounded dangerous. Megara might as well have been a piece of furniture with all the attention the two Tobi Roppo paid her.

    “Hardly,” Who’s-Who replied. “This is after all your field of expertise. I did recall a few things, taboos and the like, about Achaeans that you might find useful in your current endeavor. I also have a few suspicions about her highness’s education that might inform your tactics.” Meg had to hand it to the masked pirate, his inflection conveyed a wealth of carefully neutral disapproval. “Out of her earshot.”

    Black Maria sighed, and glided towards the door. “I suppose,” she acknowledged reluctantly, “but do try to make this quick.”

    Megara pulled a few of her scattered wits together and focused her haki on the two pirates speaking outside the now closed door.

    “What is it?” Black Maria murmured in annoyance.

    “Lady Megara seems to have an education in things no Achaean princess would be taught under normal circumstances.” Who’s-Who’s said evenly. “If she’s been taught anything about psychological warfare she’ll see through what your doing to break her.”

    “Unlikely,” Black Maria snorted.

    “More likely than the swath of destruction she—Damn!” Who’s-Who cut himself off. “The chit’s spying with her observation haki. Let’s continue this discussion out of her range.” Meg could feel his presence moving away from the cabin.

    “You’re right, she is,” Black Maria’s presence moved away until Meg lost her lock on it. If she hadn’t been so hungry and thirsty she might have been able to track them further. With a grim determination Megara focused all of her attention on the movement of her diaphragm.  It helped let the pain in her limbs wash over her. And anything at all was better than the liquid head pooling in her core. Gods only knew how long her reprieve from Black Maria’s presence would be. The numb fog began to recede with the pain and the deep breathing.

 

    Meg finally felt centered back inside her body. It felt like twenty or thirty minutes had passed when the lock on the door clicked and Black Maria gilded back into the room, annoyance stamped on her features. Not a good sign at all. “Now where were we?” she purred at Meg. “Ah yes. Here.” She slipped a finger between Megara’s legs. Meg refused to react.

    Black Maria sighed. “Back to where we started,” the pirate said. Megara didn’t like the thoughtful way she pursed her lips. “Though that has its own possibilities.” Black Maria began the whole damn process again, and again, and again.  Each time Meg’s world was on the brink of shattering into an explosion, Black Maria stopped and waited for the mewls and keening whimpers  to subside. When the ragged breathing finally returned to normal the bitch resumed.

    Megara felt herself drifting back into the fog where she stayed. Pain she could process but this unwelcome drugging pleasure? All she could do was retract into the disconnected numb.

 

    A gesture brought Megara back to herself for a moment in a single moment of berserk clarity.

    “Now, dear,” Black Maria was saying as she gently tucked an errant curl behind Megara’s left ear.  The mockery of affection lit an all consuming fire of rage in the princess’s belly. How dare this fucking bitch profane her mother’s last gesture of affection. Queen Ida had been the only person to tuck that stubborn lock back like that. In reflexive fury Meg bit down hard on the fleshy bit at the base of Black Maria’s thumb. The coppery blood tasted like victory. The small bit of flesh, more skin than anything else, hit Black Maria on the cheek.

    “How Fucking Dare You! How fucking dare you, you diseased spawn of a fucking camel!” Meg’s tirade was interrupted by a punch to the guts.

    “Why you little bitch! You bit me!” While Megara wheezed, Black Maria stalked over to her bag to wipe off the blood and examine the bite wound. “You’re going to regret that,” she said, voice dangerously calm. Megara more than half expected to be gagged. It was worse. Black Maria continued to forcibly arouse her but now her touches were rough, even brutal.  Through the fog Megara dimly realized every degrading word and touch plunged her into deeper levels of humiliation. Or it would have if it didn’t feel like she was trapped as an observer floating above her own abused body.

@spooky-sloot-headcanons I think as a dark smut connisure you might enjoy this one.

[deescade]

(I had to do this—)

Man, Belphie really is coming for me, huh? Can definitely see Simeon coming in clutch before Belphie could get too far. But then he has to deal with Satan kidnapping me. He's a real one.

Barbatos is probably made me cry because of how overwhelming the gifts soon became—

Ooh yeah, this fit pretty well 😳👌 the storyline seems very neat, especially when you put into that context. Simeon seems the most tame out of all the other yanderes, it's great that you got him! 😌

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish

gn reader

“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.

“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.

Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.

Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”

He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy. 

You think you might pass out.

“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.

You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.

“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.

Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”

“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”

You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.

“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.

“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”

He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.

He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.

“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”

He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.

“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.

Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”

“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”

There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.

“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.

He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.

“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”

You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.

“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip to stop a sob.

“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”

He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.

You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-” 

“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”

He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.

He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.

“I think thirty is fair.”

“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.

“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”

At least he doesn’t make you count....

You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.

Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.

He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead. 

“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~”  He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.

He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.

His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”

You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting. 

He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”

The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.

He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.

He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance. 

A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.

He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.

“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul, Aizawa, Todoroki

JJK – Toji, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Sukuna, Naoya

HQ - Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Suna, either Miya twin

BLLK - Isagi, Reo, Kunigami

DS - Doma

CSM - Aki