#yan! slasher

[sinnful-darling]

yan! slasher hcs

cws : stalking, grotesque displays of murder, gore, obsessive behavior, bro leaves you rotting fingers in the shape of hearts, literally puts hearts in boxes and leaves it on your bedside table, leaves dead bodies on your doorstep as a way of romancing you, he’s actually your friend,

— yan! slasher who, during the day, was just your average college student. he was in your english class, and with the two of you seated right beside each other, you’d become friends rather quickly.

— yan! slasher who insists on coming to your home to study together. he always has a new excuse…

“i’ve got a rat infestation…”

“there’s this weird neighbor that moved in next door and he’s super creepy. i don’t think you’d be safe there…”

“i left my takeout on the counter for one night and suddenly ive got ants!”

— yan! slasher who initially befriended you to have you as an alibi if he ever slipped up a bit, but ended up actually enjoying your company. as time went on, he found himself falling in love with you and subconsciously monopolizing your time.

— yan! slasher who hates it when you talk to other people. he makes it known in the late hours of the night that no one can interact with you but him. he slaughters them; whether the person is a man or woman doesn’t matter to him. they all deserve to die in the most gruesome and painful way possible for even thinking they can take what was always and will always belong to him.

— yan! slasher who leaves notes on the walls of his victims with his pocket knife, making sure to change his handwriting. its always related to you, and slowly everyone but him leaves.

— yan! slasher who is secretly proud of his work, smirking internally when you receive fearful glances and people dart around you like scared sheep.

— yan! slasher who begins to leave you hands of his victims, leaving them on your bedside table or nailed to the walls with the fingers arranged in a heart shape.

— yan! slasher who leaves pretty gifts for you on your doorstep or your kitchen table. he makes sure it’s not something you’ve told him so it’s not obvious that it’s him. just basic gifts that anyone would like.

— yan! slasher who tucks your hair behind your ear when you’re sleeping. he stays there for hours after finishing off another victim— just admiring the way your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. he loves how vulnerable you look.

— yan! slasher who also likes to leave you a little present on your doorstep every so often… mostly when people begin to get more comfortable with you again. he’ll leave the body of a victim on your doorstep or hanging in a tree where you can see it, viscera coating the pavement and entrails strung about and spelling out letters. typically ILY or PRETTY :))

— yan! slasher who is just so obsessed with you. he can’t give you his own heart, but he’ll do it if you ask him. until that day comes, he gifts you the hearts of people you care about!! how romantic is that?

— yan! slasher who absolutely adores you and will do any and everything to have you to himself <33

[heartfullofleeches]

[implied feminine male darling]

Slasher Yan always goes for the prettiest girls. Darling is sure to be next on the chopping block being the cutest little thing anyone's ever seen - until during their stalking phase Slasher finds out that pretty girl is actually a guy. There's something about them that's different besides that little fact. Slasher slaughters all their precious angels to preserve their beauty in their own selfish, special way, but the thought of the light leaving Darling's eyes almost saddens them. Too much charm in that smile of their to properly capture with pictures.

Yan hates eyes on their muse which is why they make the ultimate sacrifice of snuff out their lives so no one else can see - but if they kept their newfound treasure locked up on a pretty cage in their basement for good they wouldn't have to worry about that. Can't wait for the day they get to dye their pretty boy's lips red with the blood of whoever interferes with their happy ever after and dress them in all the cute outfits their little heart desires. They've got a trunk full of clothes Darling can try on and sure their previous owners would be more than happy that their clothing is going to s better home. Thankfully, Yan likes to get the blood out when it's fresh so there's no stains to ruin Darling's first experience in their new home.

[proxylynn]

Lynn, what do you know about Tate Frost? I only know that he does not like liars, cats. He loves gambling.

{I'll be using quotation marks when using Mortis and Bile's lore. Seriously, they are amazing people. I can't thank them enough for making weird and messed-up characters that are also loveable. Lore and art provided below is by the wonderful creators mortisfox & bileshroom.}

[This is a bit of a hard one as Tate is in two projects. He was first introduced in Mortisfox's first game Purple and Frost Bite is set before the events of Purple. WARNING/TRIGGER WARNING (certain themes) Massive TATE FROST LORE drop!!]

"Frost Bite is set in 1995 and PURPLE in 1996. In Frost Bite, Tate is a butcher. In Purple, Tate chops wood and works on cars for a living. Tate is 6'1, his b-day is April 28th, he's 33 years old in Frost Bite and 34 in Purple. He's bisexual."

Why does Tate dislike cats? "he's just one of those cis guys who has never been around cats before and thinks they're weak and stupid. if Tate got a cat, he would hate it at first until it slept on his chest then he would take it with him everywhere and kill anyone who touched it. Tate just honestly needs to have a cat for a while. he'd still be a dog guy though."

"Tate LOVES to grill, but he's not like...the best at it. He sure knows how to heat the meat up enough for him to eat it but just barely, the bloodier the better! Tate would probably love someone who could cook for him though, anything to be lazier and still have food in him. But he's not very picky! He's usually a bit buzzed so pretty much anything you feed him he'll think is really good."

"so Tate would probably enjoy a feisty and rougher MC, especially if they're harder to kill cause he really likes the challenge."

Has Tate ever tried to track down or find out who his father was? "Tate's mom had a lot of partners before he was born, so she's not even sure who he is either. One of those random bar hookups ya know growing up, Tate wondered about it for a while but he lost interest. when he got older and has no desire to figure out who it is, at this point he's happier being independent with no familial ties, that way he can move around the country and not worry about connections. he likes to call himself a 'lone wolf' cause he's a dork."

Since Tate likes drinking, what kind of person is he when drunk? "OH lord he's usually really good at not seeming drunk when he is, but if you get him past that he gets REALLY handsy, very touchy, but after about an hour of that he becomes extremely sad and depressed, he has a hard time hiding that part of himself when he's shitfaced, but it does take a LOT to get him there and more than likely hed just pass out before that. He's not a violent or angry drunk at all though, if anything he gets more silly and nice."

Is Tate just, not interested in a real relationship like at all/ever, or is he open to it but it's just never really happened that he actually wants to stick around? "Tates has been very unlucky in love. he tends to get with people who arent really great people (not that he's any better), and he also struggles with feelings of caring or empathy for other people. I think in the EXTREMELY rare off chance he meets someone that's perfect for him that he doesn't just want to kill, the relationship most likely wouldn't last long cause he'd be the one to fuck it up. Tate's current mindset is that relationships are more trouble than they're worth and he'd rather just fuck around with people, but I wouldn't say him getting in a relationship would be impossible."

Who or what was Tate's first kill? "Tate's first murder (he was 18) was an old girlfriend (whom he lived in a trailer with at the time) who he caught cheating on him, they did not have a good relationship- often having screaming matches that lasted hours, so no one thought much of the screaming while he hacked her up with an axe."

"another bit of Tate's baggage He's always at least 25% drunk, but he gets these very depressing episodes and becomes very suicidal, these don't last too long, maybe a few days to a week, but they're very bad for him."

"anyway lore drop Tate has a younger half-brother (on their dad's side) Dean or 'Coyote' as everyone calls him, they'd never actually meet in canon but Tate would hate his guts lol"

Does Tate eat meat raw? Or does he prefer them cooked? Is he messy when he cuts meat up? "Tate loves meat that's been cooked for all of 15 seconds, the bloodier the better!! he also loves to just eat with his hands anytime he can, he doesn't care what other people think of him so he just does that in public."

Is Tate a cannibal? "yep, and there will be a lot of those themes in the game! we'll be putting a content warning when the game is released, but just in case that's not something you're into heres your heads up."

Is Tate good at aftercare? What does he do for it and how would he react to a mc that cries after sex from all of the brain chemicals and such? "Tate, being the man he is, doesn't think of aftercare all that much mainly because he doesn't have sex in a lot of places that allow it- usually in his truck or a closet or backroom of some sort, BUT on the occasion he does end up in his trailer or your place he'd very much be the "no talking I'm holding you" type of aftercare, if you can really call it that lmao. BUT if the mc was a crier after sex, he might be a bit more gentle, more back rubbing and if you're real lucky some forehead kisses that he won't talk about the next morning. (though he does enjoy the sound of pleasured crying so it might just turn him on again)"

Does Tate enjoy warm cuddles all night long or is he more of the 'needs his space' type in bed with only some cuddles? "Tate is very much a 'grabs onto you and doesn't let go until he is awake' type, even worse is he a very naturally hot person so I hope you can stand sweating buckets all night."

What is Tate's ideal type of partner? "Tate is one of those people that gets very easily bored with any one type of person, he's very selfish and doesn't care much about anyone else's feelings. Like there are certain things that draw him to someone: -shorter -shy timid people -people he reads as prey -small soft hands but he doesn't stick around any one place for too long and he has trouble forming real relationships (not that it's impossible, it would just be difficult lmao he is VERY stubborn)"

Why did Tate become Slasher? "this isn't going to be touched on in the game, so ill answer it since it's not a spoiler! Tate doesn't really have any specific trauma or mental illnesses or any real reason to be like he is, he just does what he wants. He sees himself as an animalistic predator that wants to hunt and he gets excited when he kills people. he hunted a lot when he was younger and grew up doing that and it just escalated into adulthood and it went from hunting animals to hunting people because they're smarter and have a high capacity for fear, which he enjoys seeing. he thinks of himself as a wolf. but this isn't to say he's just a wild animal, he's actually very charming and can convince people to trust him easily. The game takes place around 1994-1995 too so it was a little easier for him to get away with things and he moves around a LOT from state to state. I imagine the state that Frost Bite takes place in is the new england area, but he's originally from Louisiana and he's actually in another game that takes place about a year later and he's living in California in it (Purple) -fox"

[Lastly...We now have pics of not just Tate or that one of his mom, but of his dad and half-bro! Also if you think Tate is huge, think again, because his old man is giant!]

(Lore and art provided by the wonderful creators mortisfox & bileshroom.)

[poisonoustwyyre]

hehe someone has watched too many camp slashers so now making a terrible summer slasher pathologic au

Dankovsky will die first

[godnectar]

Did the Yan slasher post get any better? Like with the reposts and likes?

if by getting any better, you mean that is going as nice as the other yans, then no 🤡

if by getting any better, you mean that there's a good balance between likes and rbs, then no 🤡

if by getting any better, you mean that it's not flopping as hard as it could be, then yeah– I guess it could be worse 🤡👍

[yandere-mc-yt]

Hey I'm not sure if my ask for lost or if you don't want to do yandere serial killer philza or cryptid philza so I thought I'd try again. ( if you don't want to you don't have to) but the ask is, what would happen if serial killer philza and cryptid philza both had the same darling. Like neither wants to share the poor soul.

Actually didn't see an ask like this before! Interesting question too-

Warnings: Yandere Themes, possessiveness, violence mentioned, possible death(?)

If someway, somehow these two happened to have the same darling it'd be.... REALLY wack.

While Killer!Philza would be ecstatic in being reaffirmed that gods are in fact real and so is his Goddess of Death, he'd also be super irked that Cryptid!Philza may take their darling away. They both also have two very different ways of treating a darling so any chance of sharing would quickly be out of the window.

As for Cryptid!Philza? He's selfish but he isn't truly GREEDY- he can make an exception for sharing his darling with lots of conditions (i.e. if the other partner is Cryptid!Techno) but Killer!Philza would absolutely not. The serial killer is a sadistic bastard while the old god actually would abstain from severely harming his darling if he can help it.

Honestly in the end, Cryptid!Philza would slaughter Killer!Philza almost without a second thought if he found out this man was hurting his darling. He'd have to argue about it with the Goddess but whatever- his poor sweet darling was HIS and his only and no mortal or god was allowed to whatever with them. At least not without permission.

[halovx-x]

HAII GUYS :3 (๑>◡&lt;;๑)

Im Halovx and I go by he/they, I’m a male and gn reader blog I also do NSFW and SFW!!

Im also a blog that does dark content such as yandere ocs and more, speaking of this I only do oc content bc I’m not good at writing characters ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Just because I’m a blog that makes dark content doesn’t mean I’ll accept every request I WONT DO anything that I’m not comfortable doing like p3d0ph1L1@, w@t3rsp0rts, female readers and what not so if you request something like that I WONT DO IT!!

But anything else is welcomed! Anything done in my fics are only meant to be for entertainment and shouldn’t be condoned especially if it’s weird behavior from some oc’s fics!

This is a safe space for people who align with he/they pronouns or any alternatives used for those pronouns (he/they)!

If I need to add more things to this post bc of other people I won’t hesitate to do it and then block said people so be warned! Except if the things I add are tips from people!!

11/16/2023

So it come to my attention that some readers have gn AND fem pronouns so if you go by she/they you can interact with the gn reader fics and even male fics as long as you’re not going to fetishize mlm couples!!!

Thats it for now Byee! ヽ(^o^)

MASTER LIST!!

[l0vergirls]

so who wants to explain star wars lore to me so i can actually understand whats happening in jedi: fallen order

[sinnful-darling]

wait so what happens if the police think the reader is killing everyone and not the slasher. like what if they arrest the reader 😭😭

considering that the reader is the one surrounding all of this, it could very well cause reasonable suspicion and they could get a warrant and the reader could be detained, but without enough evidence they can’t detain the reader for very long. law enforcement officers and detectives and medical examiners are also doing their best to figure out who the killer is and the motive, so eventually they’d come to the conclusion that the reader is not the slasher.

medical examiners are able to discern whether the perpetrator is male or female bodied through various means, so the reader would be cleared of suspicion very quickly. that with the fact that reader is genuinely terrified and has no clue, it would be extremely difficult to mimic genuine fear and anxiety and paranoia.

[heartfullofleeches]

whoooooo brain rot time

[alexhorrorfilms]

Wrong Turn 2: Dead End (Поворот не туда 2: Тупик)

Продовження культового слешера.

Гірше за першу частину, але подивитися можна.

Мутанти-людожери полюють у лісах Віргінії, де вирішили зняти реаліті-шоу про виживання.

Дуже кривавий фільм.

[screeching-bunny]

Need more of our yan slasher,he's so pookie,i wanna bite his cheeks (in a affectionate way) and cuddle with him until the end of times,he's such a cutie 😭💗

Yandere! Slasher Pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt. 1

After reading the message sent by Yandere! Slasher, everyone subconsciously looked at you. Never in your life did you want to go home more badly than you did right now. Why did you even decide to go to a party in the first place? You don’t even like people in general! You were definitely never going out to socialize with others after this. If only there were more booze around here you really didn’t want to handle this situation semi sober.

You: “... What are you all looking at me for, they gave out a very vague description of someone. This could literally be anyone in this room with similar features to me.”

The next minute the phone screen immediately lights up with a message.

Yandere! Slasher: “I’m talking about you.”

You: “...”

After a few more seconds of silence, you finally managed to suppress the fear and uneasiness in your heart. You took the phone from the person beside you and carefully looked back at the messages that were sent by Yandere! Slasher. Finally looking down at the text box you begin to slowly type a message.

You: “Sorry, I don’t like guys with dark hair.”

Yandere! Slasher: “I can always dye it.”

You: “I don’t like your face.”

Yandere! Slasher: “There’s always plastic surgery”

You: “How do I know that you're rich? What if you’re lying and actually not broke.”

Yandere! Slasher: “I’ll buy you whatever you want right now. I can even send you my credit card information if you decide to be with me.

Damn you were broke but not broke enough to allow yourself to be with some killer. If it weren’t for your morals you would have probably folded by now.

Yandere! Slasher: “Well it’s not like you have a choice anyways. I plan on making you my spouse either way. You can either come with me willingly or I could take you by force…. Well looks like you’re taking too long. I'll decide for you.”

With that text message sent, you immediately began to feel queasy. You were struggling to keep your eyes wide open and your body was beginning to become very sluggish. Slowly but surely your senses were starting to stop and the last thing that you were able to hear were the sound of your peers screaming for help. With one last attempt to get out of your situation, you try to slowly crawl away. Only for your attempts to be interrupted when someone gently picks you up. “You’re not going anywhere cutie.” and with that you were now fully unconscious.

—

The next morning you woke up with the world’s worst hangover in the world. Never in your life did you feel this fucked up and and groggy all at once. You begin to raise up your body but soon realize that your body was tightly restricted by some rope and you were wrapped in the arms of some guy. The immediate thought in your head was that this was, last night was either the kinkiest night of your life or some random weirdo had ended up kidnapping you. Due to your movements the man next to you begins to wake up and looks over to you with a smile on his face.

“Cutie! I’m so glad you’re awake. We have so many things that we need to discuss right now! I’ve been thinking about the names of our future kids. Do you have any preferences? I don’t really mind what we name them but I want a lot of kids! Wait! I’m being so inconsiderate right now. I never even asked you if you wanted kids. If you don’t like them we can adopt as many pets as we physically can and we–”

As he was rambling it finally hit you. He was the fucking weirdo from the night before. You wanted to fucking die. Never in a million years did you think that you’d have to deal with a serial killer and an extrovert at that. Maybe if you pretended to be deaf he would stop talking to you. You begin to look at him and begin to make gestures with your head and facial expressions to signify that you were deaf. Yandere! Slasher looks at you for a few minutes before laughing.

“Sweetie, that's not going to work. I’ve been stalking you for the last couple of years. I know that you’re not deaf. Besides I’ve looked at your medical, you're perfectly healthy right now. Which reminds me, my precious little darling must be starving right now. It’s my job as your future husband to take care of you. Now wait right here for me.”

With that he leaves you entrapped alone in the room. Although your eyes were still a little blurry you were still able to make out the contents of the room. Scanning the room, your eyes fell upon a glint of metal under a desk —a discarded tool left by neglect or chance. Adrenaline surged as you inched closer, your heart racing in synchrony with your movements. With trembling fingers, you grasped the tool, the cold touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Summoning every ounce of determination, you started sawing at the ropes, each movement a blend of agony and hope. The metallic smell of blood filled your nose as the sharp edges of the tool cut into your skin. With each passing second, the knots loosened, freedom within tantalizing reach. With one last rough movement you were able to be free of your binds. As you made your way towards the window. A creak soon shatters the silence and the door swings open. Revealing your kidnapper's looming silhouette.

“Look at you all covered in blood because I left the room. Did you really think I would leave the room without any monitors watching you? I was hoping that you wouldn't try to escape but I guess I’ll have to be training you from now on cutie. Guess I’ll have to punish you right now. Do me a favor and lay down won’t you?”

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!Horangi)

You and your friend group are definitely not a part of a typical slasher movie. Two weird guys you met at the corner store somewhere in rural Austria definitely not serial killers. You are definitely going to be saved. You are definitely not going to like being their little trophy.

TW: Yandere, Age gap(Reader in her early 20, murder husband in their late 30), Serial Killers, Mild Gore, Extreme dub-con(Bordering cnc), Blood, Horror, Kidnapping

CHAPTER 1 You meet two weird locals at the corner store in a city in the middle of Austrian woods. Your timid nature is going to be your downfall.

Come to the woods, your assholes-of-a-friend said. Come on, he said, I know that for someone like you, dwelling in some shitty forest for three or more days only to drink mediocre beer and probably have even more mediocre sex while mosquitos are biting at your vagina sounds like your worst nightmare, but! Have you considered it could be fun? 

Yeah, you have considered it. Considered it, thought about it and already decided not to engage with the idea. Spending the holiday in your own country, your own city and by your computer was far better than running around some random Austrian forest – and so you decided to kinda…ditch the idea. 

Considering what happened in the next few days, you really should have been more true to your words. 

Because you agreed to the proposition – because you don’t want to antagonize your friends, because you already feel strained from them, because they are assholes and they continue to be assholes but they are the only ones you have. Maybe you shouldn’t rot in your room, maybe you should agree to spend Spring break with them, getting drunk in the woods and maybe chasing some wild boars across the place. 

— Sorry. 

Some asshole – not the friend one, just an asshole in general, like everyone else in this fucking country that is so stuck up at being in the woods and mountains, that you are literally going to be sick – took the last remaining bottle of coke that was still left on the shelve. You were not having it because it was almost night already, the last remaining store open in the area, and you needed your sugar fix and something to mix alcohol with so you wouldn’t get drunk and stupid immediately. 

You aren’t letting go of the bottle. 

The guy doesn’t let go either. 

— Sorry, I think I got it first. 

You hate how weak your voice is. Never be the active, social one of your friends, you’re stuck being just a dumb girl who has literally everyone walking all over her. You decided to dig your heels into the ground and sent this asshole where he belongs – so, your grip on the bottle intensifies. 

— Haven’t seen you. 

He tugs the bottle back to him – and he has some arm strength, surprisingly for someone in this town. To be quite honest, you are too intimidated by his deep, annoyed voice to even consider looking at him, so you don’t know what the guy looks like. Maybe it’s an MMA champion – celebrity shop at some weird corner stores in abandoned Austrian cities too. 

— I am very sorry, but I really, really need this bottle. 

You don’t, actually. There are multiple bottles of Pepsi right here, and not like you have a very specific preference for the drink that is bad for you. You just got tired of people walking all over you, tired of your friends that constantly getting you into their shenanigans without asking for your opinion and you just want something good happening to you at least once. So, you tug the bottle back to you, and press it against your chest, hoping that whoever this man is will get the memo and get the fuck away from you until you’ll get your pepper spray. Ah, right, you forgot to bring one…well, he doesn’t have to know about that. 

— What do you need this bottle for? 

— Important reasons. Secret reasons.

The man sneered and you finally got a good look at him. And…fuck. 

Tall, broad, maybe more on the leaner side, but you can clearly see his tight muscles that form this perfect, thin type of masculinity that makes you think about greet athletes and that weird webtoon you were occasionally reading because you don’t have anything better to do with your life. You lick your lips, nervously, suddenly aware of the fact that you wear some old hoodie, battered jeans, and exactly zero makeup – you were supposed to get chased by the bears in the forest, not a meet-cute annoying strangers. 

He is Korean if little doodles on his jacket and an accent are saying the truth. You force yourself to get your gaze away from the mask that was covering more than half of his face, black glasses that obstruct the view even more, and messy black hair – the only thing about his appearance that you can actually see. 

Maybe, it’s good that you can’t see his face – you need to get out of here, preferably with a bottle of coke and some other snacks before your friends start questioning why the only person who didn’t want to go is so reluctant about leaving the store. Besides, it’s already almost closing time and you need to gather your thoughts. With a deep sigh, you push the bottle closer to you. 

But this time, he didn’t humor you with softness. He kept it close to himself and suddenly, you are very aware of how much weaker you are than him. You could put up a good fight against a mouse, maybe, a squirrel on a good day – but in this tugging match, you were no, pun intended, match for him. You look closely at his cargo jacket – the patches look official, normal, making you think about the military and what the fuck Korean soldier is doing in the small town somewhere in the rural, touristy-foresty-mountainy part of Austria. 

— Please, sir, it’s getting silly. 

— Yes, it is. Give up now. 

He has that weird calmness in his voice – a low grumble that makes you shiver, the urge to just give up your control and present him your neck like a good pet makes you want to vomit. God, it’s humiliating – you just hope that your friends won’t be here to witness your utter humiliation. 

— I really, really need this bottle. Please? 

You master your best puppy eyes, looking at him with a half-lidded gaze, hoping he has at least a somewhat working and aching heart inside of his lean, muscular chest. The dark glasses of his don’t allow you to see his face clearly, but you can feel how he slowly eyes you from head to toe, slowing down at how much your hands are trembling at the confrontation. 

In a normal situation, you would give up already. But this isn’t a normal situation – you wanted to learn how to be brave, independent, and stand up for yourself in small things, even if your friends still going to swirl you around into making dumb decisions. 

— I was the first to grab it. Why should I give it to you? 

His voice is mesmerizing – you didn’t expect something as deep from a random stranger in the corner shop and here you are, embarrassed, cheeks heated because you want to ditch your friends and look at the random guy you just met. Ah, the tragedy of meeting someone remotely attractive and closer to your age – or at least looking like it – in a mundane place so that the horny thoughts would make room inside your head. 

— Because this would cheer me up really nice, sir. 

You master even puppier eyes – and you lick your lips some more, hoping to elongate the point of how shitty your day was, and how nice it would be, just to have a bottle of coke to cheer you up. Man lets go of a grumpy noise, shaking his head. 

“Fucking tourists” he mutters – and you feel even more embarrassed immediately. If anything, he is probably a tourist too! 

— Sir? So the coke-stealer has manners after all. 

His laugh is dry, and you want to take the bottle and leave – but when you yank it closer, he doesn’t let go. If anything, he grabs it even firmer, thin plastic deforms under his touch, and the tactical gloves he is wearing are only empathizing with the vast difference between you and him. 

— I’m not a coke-stealer. I had dibs on this bottle. 

He stares at you, tilting his head to the side. You look stubborn, like an angry little kitten – and, god fucking dammit, Horangi loved cats. Always wanted to get one or two, adorable furballs that would lay on him and Konig, maybe destroy the wildlife around their house. he loved cats and never had time to take care of them because of their combined jobs – so when he looks at this stubborn little woman – little more in her posture than actual size – he feels all the desire to take a kitten home gets straight into his pants. 

He has to find Konig. Ah, and get the bottle back. 

— Dibs don’t matter if you can’t even hold it. So, the bottle is mine. 

— Sir, if anything, this bottle can’t belong to you yet. You haven’t paid for it! 

— You too. 

— But I will. 

— Just as I am. 

He chuckles, more amused than anything. You look angry, you look pissed, you munch on your lower lip nervously because you don’t want this man to walk all over you, but you also really want his – it belongs to the state, actually – coke. So, you yank it one last time, already preparing to give up and drink Pepsi as the loser woman you are. 

Instead, the bottle goes right into your hand with ease – and you fall on your back, losing the connection between your legs and the ground. You prepare to fall and crack your head on the floor, just like a wet kitten of a person you are. 

Instead, you stumble into…something. You want to say that it’s something soft, maybe a snack aisle or the pillows that are being sold in this store for some reason, but this mysterious “something” under your cheek is firm, tense and warm. 

Just like in the worst romantic comedies you ever saw, you are crushed into a broad male’s chest. Don’t mess it up with another man’s broad chest, those are actually two very different individuals and the concentration of pecks on the square meter already makes you feel uneasy. You bite your lips nervously, wanting nothing more but to disappear – you finally have the bottle in your hands and you can swiftly retreat to the cashier on the other side of the shop, but the man behind you stops you. 

— What’s going on, Tigeren? 

Ah, good. The wall of muscles behind you smells of generic male deodorant and something metallic – and has the voice of a Greek god mixed with the most stereotypical Austrian accent ever. Not like you are an expert on accents or voices or tones because you’re not sure that Greek gods would have such high and grumbling voices, but you stand not corrected, drowning in your bad decisions. 

You feel the firm hold on your shoulder gently put you away slightly, as the man comes to touch the asshole’s hand. Softly, gently, you want someone to touch you like this. You lift your gaze from the pair and…

Did you miss a Halloween party with the tough rule of wearing a mask all the time, even when you’re going out to grab some more snacks? You lower your gaze from the man who also wears a generic black mask and dark glasses, your eyes slowly go down to his pants and…

Did you miss a horse-riding party? 

— Some tourist tried to steal my coke. Nothing, Ko. 

— I’m not a tourist. 

You mumble, under your breath. You don’t want to be here – the area suddenly becomes intoxicating, you feel out of place and you want to run away as fast as possible but the only thing you can do is to just strive on, hoping that you’d at least keep your beverage with you. You take a step to the side, hoping to retreat quietly, like a ninja – but they both notice and turn to your side immediately. 

— This is a dangerous place, lady. 

The tall guy – well, they are both tall, but the second one is fucking enormous, towering over the shelves and making you feel insignificant compared to him – grumbles it gently, almost carefully. You are inclined to listen to him, taking up his words like a damned prophecy. You know this place is dangerous – it’s a forest in the mountains of Austria, of course, it is dangerous, you tried to tell your friends this, but…well, to no avail. Useless as usual. 

— I’m aware, thank you. Can I…excuse me, I will leave now. 

— With my coke. 

Korean guy snorts, the clear amusement in his voice. You don’t like the way he emphasizes the point of you stealing it from him – you both are entitled to it, if anything, he is the weird one to think that he has some special dibs for this. The bottle is already warmed up from your combined touches and you groan from the fact – now you will have to choke on the warm cola while all of your friends have fun with their dumb alcohol cocktails and ice cubes and everything you forgot to bring because you were the last one to get here. Because you were the last one they asked to join – feeling like an afterthought, you lick your lips nervously. 

— Of course. The one you wrestled out of my hold. 

— You let go of it, sir. 

— Didn’t want to make a scene with a little thing like you. 

You feel the tips of your ears burning. Oh, how you wanted to punch both of them – the tall one and the slightly less tall one, both chuckling like a pair of grannies on the porch. Like this fucking place needed more bears. 

— You should be careful around these parts. Weird things going around. 

The mountain has spoken again – weird, but all of his phrases feel more like something straight up from a horror movie. Combined with the eerie dim light of the tiny store and his mask, it sent a shiver down your spine. Gosh, you need to watch fewer horror movies and read less terrible dark romance books. You are jumpy, nervous, anxious, everything that doesn’t combine well with a forest trip. 

You take a step back and the blue eyes follow you. When did he take off his sunglasses? Why do they both need sunglasses at night? 

He looks at you and, fucks sake, you stumble into the aisle again. With a bottle of coke in your hand, which isn’t the best weapon in the world, you stumble to the cashier. 

Cold gaze follows you. Oh, how he follows you. 

You nervously bring the coke bottle to the old man behind the counter, listening to the tired German speech – you recognize the numbers, memorize the price of a single bottle, and yet…you feel the eyes glue to your back as you desperately rummage through your pockets. You swear to god that you had cash on you this exact morning – but you go through your pockets, through your backpack, and try to search for maybe some old cents and cards. 

Nothing. 

God, you feel like a failure – embarrassed that you wasted so much time trying to get this bottle only to put it back on the shelf in defeat and…

— On me. Move your ass, tourist. 

The Korean guy notches your side and you glare at him with a mix of anger and shame – he pays for the bottle, probably grinning from how well he taught this annoying as fuck tourist a lesson, and also for the few snacks he bought, probably for himself and his…friend? Boyfriend? 

You move your ass obediently, going out of the store, and your head hangs low in defeat. Your friends are smoking outside, everyone is visibly annoyed with how long it took you only to go out empty-handed. Jenny, one of your girlfriends, a tall brunette with a perfect fucking body that shouldn’t belong to someone in the real world and not 90-era comedies, looks…worried. 

You went to ask her what was wrong, but she shook her head, looking somewhere behind you. 

You stare at the ground, watching as your shriveled shadow from the single-store light swiftly being absorbed by someone’s much larger frame. You gulp, not wanting to look behind you, knowing what – or who – you might want. 

Tall guy with a…coke bottle? Well, you weren’t expecting that. He gives you the bottle and you can almost see the condescending smile on his face as his fingers linger on your hand for longer than they should be. You take the offer, not really understanding what the fuck is really going on. 

— Thank…you? 

— No problem, kleine. 

You can hear the smile in his voice and your hands are trembling. Jenny looks at you with surprise, clearly not expecting nerdy ol’ you to pull someone so…well, not nerdy and maybe old. 

— What the fuck? Who is…

— I’ll explain in the car, alright? 

— Did you drop it or something? 

— I…I think I lost my wallet. Have you seen it? 

She stops for a second, thinking. There are a few things Jenny is good at – burning the tip of her tongue with a lighter, wearing crop tops, eating men alive (unless they are the most annoying ones alive). Lying isn’t one of them – not because she is a good person, but because she would rather flip your shit upside down and make you as upset as she possibly could. 

— Chad took it. Said you’d find the nearest bus to get the fuck out of here if you’d have it. 

He…

You can’t fucking believe this. All this humiliation because her annoying boyfriend didn’t want you to ruin this little unfriendly gathering. You feel angry tears in the corners of your eyes, almost ready to sniffle like the needy thing you are. God, you’re weak and pathetic and…

The Austrian guy behind you coughs, attracting attention. 

— Ladies like you shouldn’t go out this late. Bad things might happen. 

Jenny snorted and you already wanted to close your eyes. She was clearly not having it and she had a very short temper – you take a step back, towards her, hoping to set her down. Instead, she took one look at your pleading expressions, and it made her even more annoyed. She was never good with locals. 

— We’re getting out of this dump as soon as possible, sir. Didn’t ask for your opinion though. 

He chuckles and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. 

— Just wanted to warn you. Tourists are disappearing around these parts. 

— We’re not some dumb tourists. 

— Ach? You aren’t? 

Jenny fails to hear the amusement in her voice. You tuck the Coke bottle in your arms, hoping that they would stop. 

— We’re not a bunch of dumb tourists and we will call the police if you’d proceed harassing us. 

— Just wanted to give your friend what she forgot. Keep an eye on each other, ja? 

— We will. Fuck off before I’m calling the 9-1-1, verstehen? 

You feel even more embarrassed as she storms off to the truck where Chad and everyone else is staying, not even paying you a glance – too used to your sorry ass going right after her, like a lapdog that your other friend likes to bring everywhere in her tiny pink purse. 

You sigh, feeling horrible. The guy is creepy. Tall, looming over everyone, both of them are fucking terrifying – but they paid for the coke and the Austrian one is genuinely trying to tell you something. A bit paranoid, maybe, but you see the cargo jacket he is wearing, so he is probably either a paranoid survivalist or maybe a part of the military. You like having someone worried about your safety, even in more of a scary horror movie-esque form. 

— I’m…sorry for Jenny. She isn’t always like this, we’re just tired after a long road. 

— You were driving whole day? 

— We’re, um…on a trip. You know, a little getaway in the woods. Would have been nice. 

The giant tilts his head to the side. You just noticed that his hands are twitching a little, fidgeting with the bottom part of his jacket. You find it almost cute, endearing in a way – at least he is as anxious about talking to you as you are to him. You find yourself also fidgeting on the bottle, swirling it in your hands, never understanding what you should do in a somewhat normal social situation. 

— Be careful, kleine Hase. Like I said, it’s a dangerous place for young ladies like you. 

The way he said it, calling you a young lady, made him look extremely old – and made you feel even more embarrassed and uncertain about your future. Here you are, wasting your youth on shitty road trips to Austrian woods instead of reading horror books and watching romance movies. 

— Thank you, sir. I…I’ll keep that in mind. 

— Are you two alone on the trip? 

Alright, it was a bit creepy. his cold blue gaze bores in your face, making you feel small. 

— No, Our male friends are with us. 

He humms, almost sounding amused. 

— Good. Wouldn’t want it to be too easy. 

— Sorry? 

— Wouldn’t want someone bad to hurt you so easily. 

You smile. He is nice, even if a bit creepy – you nod slightly, taking a step towards the truck, since everyone else already got in and you still have a long road to the place of your camp. 

— Thank you for the bottle, sir. 

— You are welcome. Keep yourself safe, ja? 

You nod. 

Keeping yourself safe sure does sound nice. You can do it, right? (You can’t,  but you don’t know that yet)

[godnectar]

Asher punishment for failing to appeal to your anons is 2 hrs of anons putting things in his pussy

He has no choice its either this or his salary will go from 300 an hr to 20 an hr

His choice 😇

pretty sleepy rn,, but I would say my boy didn't really fail that much at appealing the anons considering the things y'all wanna do to him 🥴

[yandere-mc-yt]

NO NOT ME DELETING THE FINISHED DRAFT OF POLY CRYPTID AND SERIAL KILLER TECHZA HCS INSTEAS OF HITTING POST

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, dark themes, mention of drug use and cheating, stalking, obsession, König’s pov

A/n: it’s a prequel to my Fuck or Die fic, so go check it out<3 Will this be the beginning of psychotic yan! König series?? Maybe🤭

Crouched in uncomfortable position, fabric on his knees was damp from wet soil on which König was kneeling, mosquitos buzzing all over his head, all eager to drink of his warm blood - but he didn’t budge, staying still like a panther observing its next prey. Soft rustling filled König’s ears, warm breeze ruffling up the leaves of dense shrubbery among which man sat, completely concealing his bulky form.

König’s mouth filled with saliva, dilated pupils concealed the icy blue of his eyes, making them look pitch black. He swallowed hard, exhaling as slowly as he could through his nose, a spark of excitement settling somewhere deep within his stomach, watching unblinkingly through thick lenses of his binoculars two bodies swirling together.

In a building about three hundred meters afar all widows were free from curtains, revealing the insides of the house. With thumping heart König watched guy’s hands slip down Y/n’s sides, caressing sweet indent of her waist, down to soft hips and lower, finally resting on two hemispheres of girl’s plump ass. He noted how her back arched ever so slightly, pushing further into her boyfriend’s chest, hot mouthes connecting in a sloppy kiss, bright blush dusting Y/n’s soft cheeks and pointy tips of her ears.

Breaking apart shortly after, König’s sharp eyes watched guy’s lips move. “I love you” he said and König couldn’t help but snort in amusement, memories from only few hours earlier were still fresh in his head - how that motherfucker offered to give that cute cheerleader girl from his class a ride home, pulling up in an empty parking lot, not even ten minutes later his car was shaking from side to side. Still, Y/n smiled softly at his words, making König’s jaw clench. He could do so much better.

König didn’t expect much from you at first. Truth be told - it wasn’t you who caught his attention, but your boyfriend, especially where he lived. A huge house on the outskirts - closest neighbouring cottages were at best one kilometre away, making this place a perfect target for König’s next outing. So he came to studying its inhabitants more closely - a family of three - couple in their fifties and their only son. How better can it possibly get?

So König entered his usual routine - first and most important step was to learn more about his future victims, their routines and people they were close with. It was very easy with parents - an average boring life consisting of work, household and a dinner at local restaurant every Saturday. But slasher couldn’t say the same about their child.

From the very first hours König felt deep disdain for that guy. Everything about him just felt fake. A perfect son and excellent boyfriend, captain of local football team, goody two shoes who has never done anything wrong in his whole life - everyone’s golden boy, all bright smiles and promising future. The exact same one who snorted cocaine in stale bathrooms of gas stations, hands too shaky and mind too numb from withdrawal to actually process his surroundings; the one who, stoned out of his head, gladly threw himself in embrace of other women, hardly remembering sweet face of his girlfriend.

Oh, his girlfriend. Y/n - a sweet and lovely little thing, all butterflies and unicorns, never once failing to hold König’s full attention without slightest intention of doing so.

Watching Y/n has always been way more fun and exciting for him. König guessed it had something to do with her demeanour - so drastically different from his own, that attracted him so much. How bubbly and vibrant you were, making everything around you play with new colours, just like a little ray of sunshine - something König has never been.

Oftentimes slasher caught himself listening intently to you going over newest gossip with your best friend over the phone (wiretapping is way easier than one may think), your sweet voice filling his ears like honey, soothing his raging thoughts buzzing within his skull, clinging to every smallest word you said. It didn’t take much time for König to find your socials as well, spending way much longer than he should studying your pictures, breathing becoming shallow and his dick twitching at the sight of your puffy lips, often imagining how they’d look like wrapper around his shaft.

What König took special liking of was to watch your nightly routine. It was a stable and never changing chain of events - hot shower, skincare, rubbing moisturiser into your feet, shins and hands, and then finally tucking yourself comfortably in soft bed. It was nothing special, yet König craved to be a part of it. Craved to be the one applying whatever shit that was on your pretty face, to massage good-smelling mixtures onto your cheeks

Back to reality, König watched both Y/n and that little boyfriend of hers settling down in the couch, starting some soap opera on big TV screen.

Maybe now? König’s whole body froze at sudden thought. He swallowed hard once again, his mind racing, adrenaline burning through his veins at the intensity of this idea alone. Guy’s parents were out of town, meaning that him and Y/n were all alone in the house. König glanced at the black sport bag lying right next to him on damp ground, electricity tingling his fingertips - he had all necessary stuff packed with him, just go for it.

Slasher gazed through binoculars once again, blue eyes fixating upon you two cuddled up on the couch, man’s mind now filling with all the possible things he could do to the motherfucker, sight of him holding you so gently making König’s blood boil.

Reaching over to his bag murderer opened it, pulling out his mask and checking if voice changer was working still. All of König’s thoughts dissipating into nothingness the moment soft fabric of under mask touched the skin of his cheeks, leaving place for only one thing:

Soon she will be mine