#yandere final fantasy

[after-witch]

(To Sephiroth) "I'll behave tonight if you let me play with your hair."

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, abuse, mentions of past physical abuse

--

"You'll behave tonight if you would like to retain the use of your hands," he replies, all calmness and promises, pulling at the sleeve of your dress to finish dressing your unruly, unwilling self.

The first three fingers on each hand ached at his words. They had healed, of course, but they've never been quite the same. What would it feel like, to have those delicate bones crunched again? And were you willing to risk it?

It was not often that Sephiroth brought you out of his quarters. Not just because you were prone to having public fits, prone to keeping your face sullen and displeased. But because he didn't like it when others saw you, took you in. He wanted to keep you for himself, and he had no qualms about telling you this as a matter-of-fact.

It was one thing you could appreciate about your situation, at least. He was rather plain about what he wanted (you) and did not give false threats.

Or false promises.

Sometimes they were one and the same.

[kitsunefox1108]

Self-aware! Sephiroth x introverted! reader

Sephiroth finds it convenient that such a darling is rather taciturn and aloof due to being an introvert, and he will take advantage of that.

He often watches you as you sleep. He likes how at this moment you are absolutely relaxed.

He imagines how your face can show a frightened expression when you see that Sephiroth is self-aware.

He wants to show you this..

And he wants to make you his. He is in the shadows for a long time, and does not let you know about him that he is self-aware, but at one moment he does not hold back, and shows the truth.

And he knows that you can't refuse. Especially when his sword is next to him and he won't hesitate to draw it.. he often watched you draw pictures related to him. And he likes your style. Maybe he'll even take this art for himself… if you don't mind.

He likes that you are alone. And he makes great use of this to be with you after you find out the truth about him.

And he likes that he won't have to kill anyone who would interfere with your communication with Sephiroth.

[crisiscutie]

It's does remind me this one song, Christmas Kids. Yandere Sephiroth tried babytrap his s/o for not leaving him. Christmas kids represent the triplets. Which is Yan!Sephiroth tried to make his s/o pregnant. They tried best to escape hell away from their own prison house. Even, they're change their name and move other country, Sephiroth will find them no matter what.

Yandere domestic Sephiroth AU? Yes, please. I've listened to the song, I really like it. Something about sad songs with happy beats always gets to me. I may have heard it before in some YT shorts... Anyways, it fits a domestic Yandere Sephiroth and a Pregnant!Darling very well. Just imagine the darling coming back to her new home and finding Sephiroth waiting...

Companion fic here.

Content Warnings: Slight NSFW, Emotional abuse, Non-consensual touching, Pregnant Darling. Long headcanons under the cut.

Grocery shopping for the week wasn't easy, but it had to be done. The boys won't be happy that their mother went shopping without them, but school must come first.

Plus, the darling wasn't in the mood to hear Loz and Kadaj arguing and begging for certain foods that week. But regardless of their squabbles, they are her precious gifts. Her Christmas kids, as they were born on that day. The happiest day of her life.

The darling opened the door to her new home, taking a deep breath and feeling the exhaustion from the errand. The ache in her swollen feet, aching back and sensitive milk-filled breasts was overwhelming.

But the pain and discomfort she felt in her pregnant body was a small price to pay for the freedom she and her boys gained.

The young, naïve triplet boys were confused of why their mother wanted to move suddenly, but they obeyed her with little hesitation, anyway.

The darling didn't want them to turn out like Sephiroth. His possessiveness and control were too much to bear. When he took to killing innocent people in the misguided attempt to "protect" her and the boys, that was the last straw. She knew she had to leave that fucked up place called "home" behind...

She grabbed her young boys and left their prison house when the stars aligned...

Despite her unexpected pregnancy by Sephiroth, her journey brought her here. She kept pushing forward, and the reward was a peaceful, cozy home for her and her children. Until today.

As the darling placed items on the shelves, she felt a cold, eerie sensation, as if something was watching her from the darkness.

She forced herself to ignore the eerie chill, opening the window blinds slightly as she resumed her normal stocking pace.

Even though the sun was shining brightly on this beautiful day, the eerie chill still lingered in their new home.

But it has nothing to do with what happened in their past. Definitely not. It's probably just a cold flash from her pregnancy getting so close to the end.

As she tippytoes, she strained her body to place the last few items.

As a response, the backache from her pregnant belly intensified. She could feel her baby's sporadic movements, ranging from gentle kicks to violent jolts. Maybe the darling should've invested in a step stool...

A wave of heat washed over her, a heat that was neither comforting nor from the sun, but a heat that was harsh and oppressive.

Now she's having hot flashes? Oh, the perils of pregnancy. At least this little one inside her should be much easier to have than the triplet boys.

The darling softly smiled as she recalled the adventurous banter among the triplets during their journey to a new home. They were debating the sex of their new sibling.

Loz longed for a younger brother to wrestle and play games with, knowing that he would have a better shot at winning against him, unlike his other brothers.

Yazoo, with his level-headed and composed outlook, predicted it would be a girl, welcoming the possibility of her tempering the wildness of his brothers (what a hypocrite).

Kadaj didn't care either way, as long as they didn't challenge his position as the leader and his status as his mother's (self-proclaimed) favorite.

The darling let out a deep groan as she paused her stocking. Her unborn child ended the sporadic fetal movements with the hardest kick yet. Something just isn't right... Perhaps she will see someone later this week after she and the boys finish moving in.

Suddenly, the dark, icy chill behind her shifted to a menacing heat, like a furnace blazing from the shadows. It felt so familiar, like… No! It's impossible! That chapter was a distant memory.

The darling is just imagining things. It should be no surprise that the human brain likes to play cruel tricks like this.

Like how Loz kept running to his mother, crying about seeing mysterious dark feathers around his school, the grocery store and other places their family would visit. He would complain that Sephiroth was too good at hide and seek.

The darling figured the strange dark feathers were simply a product of his mind, missing his father in his own way...

But it became alarming when Yazoo began to murmur and point out the smallest details of every single dark feather as he brought them to her.

Kadaj was getting frustrated, beginning to wonder why their father wouldn't help them finish moving in.

The darling refused to believe the boys. It could just be the ravens shredding their feathers, right?

With trembling hands, the darling slowly reached out for the final item. When she completes this simple task, she can lie down and relax. All of her stress, and the aching in her back especially, would soon be gone.

Just before she could grasp it, a large, gloved hand appeared and delicately placed the last item on the top shelf.

The darling felt a strange, unwanted sense of relief as she felt the slow and gentle strokes of another hand on her back.

...His presence could not be denied any longer. She felt his chest expanding and contracting against her head, and heard the gentle thump of his heart.

Sephiroth… No matter how many miles they traveled or how many times they changed their names and minds, he still had the determination to find them. He'll always know.

His silver tresses brushed against her skin as he hummed his sinister lullaby, pressing his lips to her ear.

His free hand grazed one of her sensitive, milk-filled teats. His hand then slowly descended, aiming for the treasure below.

His darling's swollen belly, where the new life within her stirred and grew.

He rested his hand on the center of her large belly. Warm, twisted happiness now radiated from him. His plan worked.

His darling refused to turn around. Struggling to contain her sobs, His darling averted her head from him and wept in silence.

His fingers glided over the stretched skin of her stomach, while his other hand moved lower to caress the small of her back.

As he opened his mouth, his warm breath tickled her ear.

"A touching reunion."

I wasn't sure if the prompt ask had the darling pregnant with triplets or already had them and was pregnant with a spare child, so I just combined a little of both concepts, but regardless, thanks for the great inspiration.

Yandere Domestic AU chronology: Christmas Kids | The Reunion is Nothing to Fear | Wait for me | Homecoming | The Crowning Moment

[octopotto]

Yandere! Cloud Strife Childhood Headcanons (+ lil’ blurb)

OCTO NOTE:

*Seeing barely any yan cloud strife content*

Me: Fine… I’ll do it myself

Warnings: NOT PROOF READ, Mentions of: child injuries, self-dout, depression, and violence, Out of Character madness (even for yandere standards), Unhealthy behaviours, Yandere but not extreme but still—, Possessiveness, Kid Cloud is crazy protective, some stuff is inaccurate bc I’m writing this by memory.

**Will CONTAIN SPOILERS for the following: FF7 (original), FF7 Remake (2020).

REMINDER: Yandere behaviour of any kind is unhealthy behaviour. It should not be something to seek out for in real life. If you are experiencing any sort of inappropriate behaviour, please contact help/seek out help.

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral!

THIS IS STRICTLY PLATONIC BC FOR ME WRITING CHILDREN IN LOVE IS WEIRD AND I CAN'T SORRY.

ps: first fic!

———————————-••———————————

- Due to Clouds insecurities developing at a young age, he most likely won’t approach you first. You would either have to be the one initiating the conversation or Tifa has to introduce you two.

- Either way, it’s super awkward for the both of you.

- Lil’ boy is bitter because no one wanted to be his friend but here you are lol

- I think the best way to get Cloud to open up is for you to keep talking to him or approaching him first

- I believe that it’s those efforts that will help Cloud realize how much you genuinely want to become friends/closer with him.

- It will help him get out of his shell.

- Honestly, getting him to initiate the conversation FIRST is a HUGE development in y’all’s relationship.

- Kid Cloud: *Approaches you first* “Hi…”

- Kid You: 😧😧 —> 😃😭🥰

- It will probably be like that for a while, but it will do!

- It’s kind of his way of showing that he also now wants to become closer with you.

- But once you guys finally get out of the ‘awkward’ phase, Cloud will slowly start to become attached to you.

- He’s now more confident in expressing himself and approaching you.

- He even tried to hold your hand a few times because he saw you hold Tifas hand when playing

- At one point, you even made Cloud and yourself friendship bracelets.

- “It a symbol of how much we care for each other!” You expressed to Cloud.

- He never once took off that bracelet. It was probably the first time he received something that wasn’t from his mother.

- You would always see him with it on. Even if you guys got into a fight.

- But when time passed, he started to get clingy

- No like

- REALLY CLINGY

- It’s to the point where you guys arrive to your house and you walk in to call it a night, HE ALSO starts to walk into the house.

- Kid You: *Confused as to why Cloud is taking off his shoes in your house after waving goodbye*

- Kid Cloud: *Literally just inviting himself in because wherever you go, HE GOES*

- I feel like his mother would look over this behaviour.

- Remember, Cloud never had any friends or anyone to talk to.

- So his mother was actually over the moon when he finally has someone who cares for him.

- She would probably chalk it up as him just being excited to have a friend.

- Your own guardian/parents wouldn’t mind as well as much

- They don’t really like the other kids as much (besides Tifa), so they were also happy that you made a new friend (despite again, being very clingy to you)

- Another mouth to feed too since he likes staying over.

- Cloud doesn’t understand these emotions but he does understand that he cherishes you and wants to be around you more often.

‘Kay enough with the slow-burn, time for the angst! :D

- If you played the original FF7 or watched it, yknow what’s coming up.

- Tifa’s mother died when she was young and thought she could reach her if she climbed up Mt. Nibel.

- You and Cloud followed her as you two were concerned for Tifa.

- Up in the mountains, you were fortunate to push Tifa and Cloud away before the bridge fell.

- The consequence? Yourself

- You fell down the bridge in place of both Tifa and Cloud.

- While falling, you heard the most blood-curdling scream you ever heard from both Cloud and Tifa.

- Thankfully, you survived the fall.

- But you still suffered major injuries and was unconscious for several days.

- Which resulted you from going outside.

- This deeply affected Cloud so much. His one and only friend, the one person he care for so much that he would do anything to prove it to you.

- It didn’t help that almost everyone in the town blamed HIM for what happened.

- Even with Tifa’s protests and defending Cloud’s innocence, no one listened.

- IMAGINE BLAMING A CHILD

- Your guardian reassured him and Tifa that it wasn’t their fault, that you wouldn’t want them to feel bad.

- But even with all of the reassurance from your guardian and Tifa, Cloud couldn’t stop the guilt and despair that kept clawing within him.

- Thus, he started believing the blame that people keep telling him, blaming himself that he was the reason why you’re in terrible state right now.

- With you being unconscious and not being able to go out, Cloud started to keep to himself again.

- If he wasn’t staying by your side to see if you would wake up, he was in his bed.

- Just laying in there, surrounded by his thoughts and guilt.

- Why do anything if everything that happened was his fault?

- Why go out if you weren’t there with him?

- He believes that he ruined the one good thing in his life.

- When you finally woke up, Cloud never ran so fast to your house.

- Even forgot to knock, just kept jiggling the door handle until your guardian unlocked it.

- He quickly into went to your room

- And when he got there, it was like he finally woke up from his nightmare.

- Because there you were, alive.

- Quickly went up to you and hugged you so tight that you thought you couldn’t breathe for a second.

- You couldn’t process what was happening until you felt something wet on your shoulder.

- Cloud was crying. He was so relieved, so relieved to see you awake.

- He didn’t know what to say, all he could say was incoherent mumbles.

- “Im so sorry… I’m so glad you’re here with me” Is what Cloud could say.

- Once you were able to process what was happening, all you did was hug him back just as tightly, not even caring if your arms were still sore. You weren't sure as to why Cloud was saying sorry for, but you began crying as well.

- “I’m glad you’re here with me as well,” You said back.

- All Cloud did was hug you even tighter.

- All throughout your recovery, Cloud was there by your side 24/7.

- If you needed anything, Cloud the Delivery Boy was on the run! 👀👀👀👀

- Made sure to hold your hand extra tight in order for you to not fall.

- If y’all were going outside for a walk, IT WILL ONLY BE ON FLAT GROUND.

- No hills, no bumps, no nothing

- He can’t risk you hurting yourself again because of himself.

- He also tried to carry you

- Never again lol

- Also super protective

- Wouldn’t even let Tifa near you when she wanted to see you again.

- Tifa was so mad he didn’t let her hang out with you. She was your friend too!!

- Kid Cloud: *Puts arm out to create a barrier between you guys and Tifa*

- “No 😡😡😡😡😡”

- Kid Tifa: 🙁🙁🙁

- Tifa On the inside: 🤬🤬🤬

- yan! tifa lockhart hcs??👀👀👀

- After what happened to you, Cloud swore to himself that he will be the one to protect you from any harm. Even as you guys grew older, he always protected you.

- He wants to always be by your side.

- He doesn’t want to leave you alone from now on.

- Because it might make his nightmares come true once more: You leaving him.

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

But what happens a few years later when he decides to leave for SOLIDER?

~~~~~

It was late at night and Cloud left a note for you, asking to meet him at the water tower.

It wasn’t unusual for Cloud to ask this because you guys usually hang out whenever one of you feels like it. As you kept walking to the tower, you can’t help but have a strange feeling as to why Cloud didn’t specify why he wanted to talk to you.

Once you got to the top of the tower, you see Cloud sitting on edge of the platform. It seemed like he was lost in thought, like he was still figuring out what to say. You smiled, always finding his thinking-face to be so cute. You finally approached him and tapped on on the shoulder. He flinched, he didn’t even hear you walk up.

“Hey” You greeted Cloud while sitting down.

Cloud nodded his head at you and looked backed out on the ground below him.

Your eyebrows furred together. Again, the same feeling when you were walking to the tower came back and sense that something was wrong with Cloud.

“You said you wanted to speak to me?” You questioned as you continued to observe Cloud’s facial expressions. It took some time for him to say something, but when he did, it almost disappointed you.

“When spring comes, I’m leaving town and going to Midgard.” He stated while not looking at you.

You frowned. You knew this day would come.

You hummed at Cloud’s response. “Not surprised… every guy here is leaving for work, even Tifa’s friends are leaving too..” You quietly said, still sad that Cloud was leaving you. Cloud jumped at the tone of you voice, quickly turning his head in order to face you.

“B-But— I’m not like them!” Cloud exclaimed, worried that you thought he wanted to leave you. Never.

“I’m not just going into the city just to look for a job… I’m going to become a SOLDIER. Like Sephiroth” Cloud continued as he confessed.

“The legendary war-hero huh…” You said quietly.

You heard stories from some the guys around town talk about how they would leave town to either look for work or join a military program named ‘SOLDIER’. It’s been something that a lot of kids dream of when growing up, and Cloud was apparently not an exception.

You knew it was selfish of you to wished that Cloud wouldn’t leave town for the program. But he’s your best friend. It‘ll be painful for you to see him move far away for a long time, in a completely different city.

You guys stayed silent for a few minutes until scooted closer to Cloud. He looked at you surprised.

“Okay…then promise me this” You said to him. “When we’re older and you become a famous war hero and come back to visit… you’ll take me with you on your missions.” You said as you had this serious look in your eyes. If Cloud was going to be able to go cool and interesting adventures, you wanna come with.

“H-huh—?!”

“You’ll be like my guide or something!” You laughed at Clouds reaction.

“It will be dangerous for you!” Cloud exclaimed.

“Nu-uh! Tifa’s father has been teaching me some moves lately! At this rate, I’m going to be even stronger than Sephiroth and become SOLDIER” You proudly said as you flexed your non-existenting muscles.

“Plus..” You started. “Since you’re gonna become a SOLDIER, you’re going to be able to protect me. I know you will. You know I trust you with my life!” You continued as you smiled at him.

Cloud gasped at your statement as his eyes widen in shock.

You trusted him.

You wanted him to save you.

You wanted him as your protector.

You wanted him.

You felt your checks warm up in embarrassment as you realized what you said to him. You then grabbed Cloud into a tight hug.

You felt Cloud slowly hug you back.

"Y’know, I'm glad I met you, Cloud" You whispered to Cloud, hugging him even tighter. He also hugs you closer.

You guys just stayed like that while looking at the stars above.

All Cloud wants is to become strong enough to protect you. Since he saw how much Sephiroth has done to protect other people and cities in the papers, he knew that he had to join. To become stronger, to be able to become the best version of himself, for you to see that the only person that you could come to for protection and rescuing, will be him. He will become your protector.

He swore to himself ever since you got injured because to his carelessness.

‘Y/n…You have no idea what lengths I would go through just to keep you safe.’

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: This was supposed to be general headcanons but I went overboard (clearly lol). So most likely this will become a series.

This is my first ever fic that I’ve written for Tumblr as well as for Final Fantasy 7, so I deeply apologize if anything is inaccurate :((

Hoped you enjoyed these hcs! Again, Cloud gets no love in the yandere fic community so why not I just write some lmaoo

[delicate-fayette]

Yandere Clive Rosfield - Alphabet and Tarot Card Prompts

The Hermit - Is this yandere more relaxed, or capable of being more relaxed? 

No, not at all really. Or-I supposed it depends on which part of the game we’re talking about with Clive. If we’re talking about when he only just escaped the Imperial Army and stuff, he isn’t not relaxed in the slightest. He still hasn’t come to terms with Joshua and he still refuses to rest until his revenge is had. Which, really that lack of self-atonement likely bleeds into his obsession as well.

He struggles to relax around you, even if he is deeply infatuated with you. Hell, the fact that Clive’d self-aware of how unhealthy his obsession is may make him even more wary. He doesn’t understand why he feels this way, and as a result may be emotionally distant from you. Yet, I feel like in small, meaningful moments, he learns how to let go and relax just a little with you. He deeply loves you, and it becomes obvious in the tender moments when you’re both alone such as at night if you’re both sharing a bed, or after a battle and licking each others wounds. He’s a soft man underneath the cold exterior really.

The Tower - If this yandere saw their darling in danger, how would they respond/react?

This man would lose his mind. Legitimately he would just see red, and from his point of view it would almost seem like he blacked out, and upon awaking his enemies were dead, battered and slaughtered around him. To you however, he briefly turned into nothing but a killing machine, despite your pleas or attempts to stop him. It was…horrific to watch really despite everything you’ve likely seen.

Afterwards, when the dust settles he rushes to you in a daze, checking for injuries and nearly going into another fit when he spots one much too deep for his comfort. The next several hours are a nuisance for you, partially because you’re probably still reeling from the display from earlier and also due to Clive suddenly becoming a mother-hen in a matter of minutes. He won’t stop checking in on you, despite Tarja’s (and your) attempts to placate him and the moment you’re clear he stays glued to your side for the next several weeks with a wild and haunted look in his eyes.

Frankly, he was terrified of losing you. In that moment when he saw you harmed, his mind flashed back to that fateful night, and he snapped. He doesn’t fully recover from seeing you like that and that may be what triggers his yandere instincts.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Clive is very…shy when it comes to showing affection. Even a bit awkward. He likes gift-giving, noticing things that may catch your eye and bringing them to you later. Like flowers or luxuries like fresh, new clothing. He isn’t intense with how he shows his love, he’s very quiet and gentle. The only times he becomes rather aggressive is when he deathly afraid for your safety, and acts as your person bodyguard for weeks.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Overtime, he would show all of himself it you. Shockingly to him, it isn’t that hard to. He feels like he can breathe so much easier around you, and so in intimate moments he tends to spill his heart out naturally, wanting his darling to listen. You already give him emotional reprieve of course, but you allowing him to weep in your arms just lets him know how much of an angel you are to him. He doesn’t know any other being in this wretched world that is as forgiving as you, nor does he care to know them. He’s in too deep now, and is drunk on the feeling of being with you and giving all of himself to you. He only hopes you do the same, in time. Don’t worry, he’s patient.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

It is, but very subtle. In public, he acts a lot more like your bodyguard and the people around you likely tease you both about being a couple already with how Clive hovers over you. Around others, he’s as cold as he usually is, only warming up to few like Cid or Jill.

He still comes off as cold at times to you in private, yet there’s always a lingering feeling of something else behind all of his words and gestures. Longing, or yearning that can be easier to detect overtime. That may be even what draws you to you, the mystery and the feeling of belonging you feel around one another. Just ignore everything else about him that might be off-putting, like his staring that he tries to hide or the way he always seems to notice things about you he shouldn’t.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

—blur the lines (between fiction and reality)

 I heard you're open for 5 headcanon requests on your post, can you do a headcanon about a yandere story that involves around Vincent Valentine falling in love with the female reader from the real world and trying to get out of dirge of cerberus and into the real world —anonymous

tw / tags: sfw, gn reader, death mentions (aerith’s), obsessive thoughts, general yandere themes featured character(s): final fantasy 7′s vincent valentine, minor appearances of yuffie, cloud, and marlene minors dni.

—note: hm took some thinking for this one until i saw a series done by @/writingforatwistedworld about self-aware au’s and decided it just might work for the old boi in red. that said, this is super tame, so don’t come in expecting any spice. vincents too sweet anyway (unless he merged with chaos, thats a whole diff story lol).

》after what must have been several hundredth reset, vincent soon figured out that he was living a scripted life. —tragically, only he realized it. —or perhaps his friends and allies were living in denial. —which is probably a bliss to have.

》often, the world would alternate between several different...atmospheres. one where everything begins with a certain blond mercenary (og ff7) and one that focuses on the aftermath (the film, advent children), and there was one where he plays the major role in (DoC). —there were several more, but they were fairly rarer than the rest that he could barely remember as he hardly played a role in these. —all were painfully distinct.

》vincent was realistic at the worst of times, at least toward himself. —it became easier to disconnect himself from his emotions —and from others too. —whenever one passes from a grueling battle or something had gone terribly wrong, time would reset and correct everything to the script only the creator could read.

under the cut due to the length!

》he no longer felt any drop of sorrow for aerith’s deaths —she always came back with the hard reset from the beginning. —he lost feelings for the woman who birthed sephiroth. —it was hard realizing that the woman you loved was all but responsible for everything, choosing the coward’s path and not staying and fighting harder to ensure that her own son would have a decent childhood. —after what must’ve been 100+ resets, he started hating her too. —wishing that he never tried to help her and to leave things be.

》perhaps vincent would’ve lived a normal life —...sans being a hitman thing for the notorious company he was employed to, perhaps. —but he wouldn’t have to live with too many voices in his head, clamoring for deaths and bloodshed. —testing his sanity. —if he hadn't fallen in love with that pitiful woman and became that fucking bastard of a doctor’s test subject, he might’ve been a married man and have children of his own years later down the road. —an ordinary dream, but it was his dream. the dream that he knew he couldn’t attain, not by normal means.

》he had one normalcy though, that remained consistent throughout the resets. —you. —sometimes, he’d see your face —or, rather, your ghost. —it was hard to describe, but you were always looking on, being a specter and usually having some kind of odd looking device in your hands (console controller of your choice). —you usually sit either on your bed or a lounging chair (or so he thinks, he could only tell by your position).

》he couldn’t make out most of the details —you were semi-transparent, nothing more than a faint outline. —but vincent knew you were there. —watching him. watching everyone.

》initially, some odd resets ago upon his enlightenment of becoming self-aware, your presence disturbed him —now, your constant presence comforts him. —it helps that unlike him and the others, you were always looking a little different each reset. —that you weren’t following any script but your own. —you broke monotony of living the exact same script every reset. —is it really so far-fetched that he’d grow obsessed with you?

》he paid attention to every little detail. —in the beginning, you were hard to make out but after so many resets and his growing fixation with you, you were practically in front of him. —that you were right there, as tangible as he is. —you were within in his reach, yet when he pretended to close in to pick up an object, he swept his golden claw swept through your body and it phrased though, he cannot touch you. —he cannot hold you. —yet. 》vincent started listening too. —you were all silence to his ears, even though he saw your lips moving. —now he knew your name, your every word —your habits. —you mutter sometimes, usually complaints but also critiques. —it was through you he realized he was a fictional character in some sort of video game series.

》it was a bit of blow, because vincent always felt alive. —but the resets made sense. —how often had you played his game(s)? —...had you ever seen him as a real person?

》he always wondered. 》vincent wished he could touch you, that he could hold you in his arms. —but that was a hopeless dream, wasn’t it? —especially when he was nothing but a finite series of codes and  numbers. —all of his dreams were hopeless.

》but something changed. —he saw you sobbing, barely touching your controller. —and he couldn’t move an inch from where he was. —you controlled his movements after all.

》why did you weep so? —fire consumed his heart and his skin blackened from the rising influence of chaos inside him. —who hurt you? —vincent never realized he moved against his codes, closing in to your balled position.

》his hand still phrased through you though and a stark frown formed on his pale lips. —all the characters he was surrounded by, hardly responded to his strange behavior though, stuck in the loop of their static animations. —one or two remarked on his off-ness though, yuffie in particular, but did nothing to stop him when he reached out for something invisible. —“huh, is something there, vinny?” he heard yuffie asking.

》"it’s nothing.” vincent recalled saying, shaking his head, but he was still staring at you. —those were unfamiliar words in his usual dull script, vincent later realized, when you rose your head confused. —you yelled out in shock, scrambling backward from how vincent took up the majority of your tv screen, boring holes in your face (it feels like). you never moved him? —the video game had to be glitched.

》or maybe you moved the thumbstick on your controller without realizing. —deciding to blame the foreign lines upon unknown triggers you never found until now, you took in a shuddering sigh. —wiping away the tears from your eyes, you resumed your playing, ignoring the text messages on your phone where it broke news that you didn’t need. —you needed some distractions.

》for a moment, vincent refused to move and you rose your brows in bafflement. — “is this thing on?” you smacked on your controller. —his staring was kinda creeping you out. —he (probably) wasn’t your most favorite character in the ff7 series, but you’ve found him a very compelling character. sure, the plot in vincent’s game was shite but its gameplay was, while not groundbreaking, great for its time. —you played his game often, as a good stress reliever. it helps that vincent was an eyecandy for the main character in shooting game too. —you played so much of his game that you knew every line and action by heart, so the way vincent was staring at you was...a little scary.

》had his animations ever looked so...realistic before? —before you could dwell on it further, the game unglitched itself and the character in red followed your movement inputs albeit with a good delay. —o...kay, that was weird. —the game was old though so you shrugged and paid the weirdness no more mind.

》but...since then, things started getting a little...weirder. 》vincent would turn his head to you often, or the camera anyway, and stare. —there were a lot of input lags too, though he never got injured by enemies somehow. —and sometimes he...did things on his own without your commands too. —casting fireballs when you meant him to aim and shoot his iconic three barreled gun. —granted, that was a far better decision than yours because of the explosives nearby and took all the surrounding enemies (you...forgot those barrels were there in the first place, truth be told).

》and lately... — “huh?” you blinked at the subtitles on the screen. “are those new voicelines?” —you remembered no character saying anything new. —it was only vincent who started saying unfamilair lines. —“enemies overhead.” “you missed several items 7 yards behind me.” “the turret!” “watch out, enemies incoming from the right” —“i trust you.” —why is the video game character talking to YOU?

》o...kay, maybe you should play another game. —or get a new console. —the cd hadn’t had a single scratch on it though. —you decided you were still in the mood for ff7 and resumed a savefile for the original ff7 game.

》but...even the weirdness persisted through there too. —in battles, he always turns his head to follow you/camera awaiting for your inputs. —when you tried to swap him out to another character, the option turned grey and vincent straight up refused to be removed. —and hell, you even had to play as vincent instead of cloud of all things. —did you trigger something somehow that enabled vincent being playable?

》 “what the fuck is going on with vincent?” you said aloud, baffled by yet another brand new scene with vincent you knew never occurred in the game nor was it even coded in. —you should know, you’ve enjoyed far too many playthroughs, a bunch of videos on the game hacking investigations (the discovery on aerith being initially planned to be alive to the end was startling), and played a bunch from the beginning to the end yourself. —for whatever reason, vincent confronted hojo by...himself. —no cloud, no tifa, no barret, no character but vincent and hojo. —....he shot him pointblank in his forehead.

》what the fuck? —this was well before hojo’s boss battle of all things too! —vincent’s blocky model turned up to you (seemingly) and his dialogue popped up in the nostalgic blue rectangular. “nothing’s wrong with me, —.” —you yelled, tossed up your controller, and ran.

》it could be an elaborate prank set up by those you’re close to. —but all of them were wise not to tamper with your games in any shape or form. —nor do they have any skillset to mess with the codes of either games with vincent in it. —plus, it was all too timely, and you knew you never input your real life name in the game. ever. you kept true to the characters original names in every playthrough in the classic game.

》how did vincent know your name?

》it took you a while to return to the room, sneaking over to shut off your console you earlier abandoned. —you glanced to the screen and blinked at the scene of vincent resting against a bookcase, seemingly sleeping. —...you don’t really remember him even having any idle animation in the old game, or that he’s even playable at all outside the rpg battlefields. —weirded out, you shut off the console and decided you needed a break from playing ff7 games for a while.

》it was some months ago when the oddnesses with vincent’s character in both games happened. —after playing other games, you decided you were probably going a little loopy after having a bad day while playing the ff7 games. —still, you weren’t in a mood to play either games, but you missed ff7 anyway. —you thought rewatching the film, advent children, was a grand idea.

》the plot wasn’t the best, but you loved the animation and all the tiny details the animators and artists implemented. —you lost yourself in the film, not batting an eye when vincent first showed up in the intro marlene narrated or how he glanced up his gaze to you little funny. —though it had been a long while since you’ve played this flim so you didn’t think about that unfamiliar detail. —it was when the next scene of where marlene confronted cloud with vincent that things got...weird again.

》“been a while, — .” his red eyes slanted to you, ignoring cloud and marlene’s confused looks. —okay, yep, something is haunting your ff7 collections. —you were given no time to run though, not this time, when vincent reached to your screen. —you squawked out a cry when something distorted outside your large screen. a golden claw grappled on the black frame of your television and then...

》he came out like sadako from the ring series, only —he was reaching out for you.

》before you knew it, you were tightly in his arms, his armored claw uncomfortably jabbing your back. —vincent nosed in your hair and inhaled. saying nothing at all as both of you kneeled on the floor. —you trembled in his embrace, confused. shocked. —did a fictional character literally just...came alive in front of your own eyes?

》 “finally,” vincent sighed, combing through your hair, “i have you in my arms.” —perhaps, this time, his dreams finally came true.

—end

[itsgeecheebitch]

TITLE: Until Darkness Descends

CHAPTER: 24

FANDOM: Final Fantasy XV

MAIN PAIR: Ardyn Izunia x Reader

SEC. PAIR: Gladiolus Amicitia x Reader

RATING: Explicit

       “Feeling well enough for visitors I hope.” Ardyn said, the top of his head nearly touching the ceiling. Your bottom lip found its way between your teeth. You didn’t know how to feel about seeing Ardyn in the caravan with you. Unease unfurled in your gut like a serpent rousing from its slumber, demanding that you leap out of bed and put miles between you. But a part of you wanted to hug him and relish in the company you had been missing for far too long. 

        He was a major part of your life after all, and not seeing him for the past two years had made a part of you feel empty, as though there was a piece of you that was missing. 

       “Y-yeah.” You said and he took a seat on the bed. An unbearable silence settled over the room like a torrential storm, battering your body with rain and making you shrink into yourself. You picked at your nails, you’ve never felt uncomfortable around Ardyn before. He was a comforting sight for many years, but a nagging feeling hammered the back of your skull, and made you want to run and hide. 

       “I must say you gave me quite the scare back there. I suppose your affliction hasn’t gotten any better over the years”. Ardyn said, seemingly unaware of the stifling tension in the room. 

        You shook your head, “it did but it came back.”

       “Any idea why?”

        None that you wanted to share so you said no. Silence invaded the room once more. It was so quiet you were certain you could hear the blood rushing through your ears. The relationship you and Ardyn shared was always an easy one, so why was it so hard to speak? Why did your veins shrink at the thought of being alone with him?. He did nothing to slight you and you did nothing to hurt him as far as you knew, yet there was a chasm between you. It felt like you were worlds apart. 

        You hung your head low and seized the blanket in your grasp. You let out a question you held onto for the past twenty-five months “So…why did you stop visiting me?”

        “It was business, I’m afraid.” He said. “It came at such a short notice I hadn’t the time to bid you a proper farewell. But I kept you in my thoughts, nevertheless.” The admission warmed your numbed skin. A smile crept over your face despite yourself.

      “I must say,” he began, giving you a smile of his own, “the years have treated you well, my dear. You have come a long way from the girl I knew who needed help with her calculus homework.”

       You snorted at the reminder. “I didn’t always need help.”

        “Only most of the time.” He replied. A sad sort of happiness closed the distance between you. You remembered those nights spent hunched over your desk, your table covered in a heap of calculus notes. In that very Ardyn way of his, he  appeared when you least expected him but needed him the most. He made sense of the confusing equations in front of you. His voice was soothing, coaching, and he hadn't lost his patience with you, no matter how many times he had to rephrase an explanation. 

          When you received your first ‘A’ in the class, he was the first person you ran to, not your adopted parents, not your friends, but Ardyn. You couldn’t think of anyone more important to share the news with than him.  The memory fluttered in your chest and made you mourn the old days, where your relationship with Ardyn wasn’t sullied by a nonexistent conflict.

           “Good thing I had a good tutor…I missed you, you know.” You said.

         Ardyn chuckled, “I missed you too, Aera. But I’m sure I wasn't missed too terribly, not with all the friends you’ve made. Especially that Amicitia that carried you here, is he your boyfriend?”

       Just like that a chill slammed into your chest. Adrenaline seized your muscles and made your tongue squirm with a lie. You picked at your cuticles, trying to ignore the goosebumps that raised on your arms. ‘Because you belong to me’. What would Ardyn do if you told the truth? Fearful eyes landed on his hands, your throat bobbed from the memory of how they felt around your wrists.   

       Realizing you were taking too long you gave him a shaky, “y-yeah,” before you could stop yourself. Your hands flew to your mouth, your eyes wide with the fear of what’s to come. 

       But he did something you least expected, he smiled and squeezed your knee. “Young love is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? I suppose an official meeting is in order, but of course for another time.” Flabbergasted, you rescinded your hands and suddenly felt very silly. Of course he wasn't going to react the same way he did in your dream, this was reality, you needed to learn how to separate the two.

       His eyes fell on the silver chain around your neck. “Is that the necklace I gave you?”

       You looked down at the glinting accessory and touched the chain with your fingertips. “Yeah, I started wearing it again after a while.” You said. It was a gift he gave you so many years ago and one you cherished for just as long. Once you realized Ardyn wasn’t coming back you started to wear it everyday. It was a comfort to you while he was away. You took solace in the happy memories it brought you, and hoped it would wash away the nightmare that arose in his absence. But of course It didn't.  “It goes good with all my clothes.”

        Ardyn wrapped his fingers around the tiny heart that accented the necklace. His fingers grazed over your chest, sending bolts of electricity where his skin touched yours. You weren’t sure if it was a good feeling or a bad one. 

       He rescinded his hand, a small smile still on his face. “I see, it becomes you even more than it did before.”

         Thirty minutes after Ardyn left, Gladiolus returned, announcing his arrival with heavy footsteps upon the stairs. His skin was sunkissed after spending hours beneath the tropical sun. “How’re you holding up, babe?”

          “Fine, just needed a little rest is all. Any news on the ferry?” You didn’t get a wink of sleep in fact, after Ardyn left you were wired like you drunk six shots of espresso. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would react to Ardyn the way you did, with a mountain of distrust and fear on your shoulders. It was a mundane encounter, yet it left your good hand trembling like you were waiting for the second shoe to drop. You had no idea how the reunion would play out, you weren't even sure if he was still alive during the last two years, but you most certainly didn't expect that dream to play a role.

        Now it ruined what should've been a happy encounter between two friends, you would always hate yourself for it. Gladiolus leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms folded over his chest. "Yeah, turns out that creep was right, the docks are closed".

       "They're closed?! Bu-what are we going to do, the wedding is in six days!" In a panic your hand flew into your hair. Missing the wedding would have dire consequences, not only would it bring shame upon the crown but it could nullify the peace treaty between Lucis and the empire, that could mean the end of the kingdom as you knew it.

       "It'll be fine." He promised, not showing an ounce of the panic that bristled out of your skin. Seeing his lack of concern pacified your anxiety some. "We found a guy who could snag us a few tickets for the next ferry. We just gotta find a couple of gems for him."

      That sounded way too simple to be comfortable. "Sounds reasonable I guess, I just hope it's not too dangerous." You were 100% certain the task would be dangerous. Why else would a total stranger barter expensive ferry tickets in exchange for gems he could get himself? They were either too hard to find or too dangerous to covet, either way it meant trouble for your friends and there was nothing you could do to help. 

        Gladiolus gave you an unceremonious shrug. "If it is, we could handle it."

         "I guess." You said. "So where are the boys?"

          "Out fishing with Noct, that should give us plenty of time to ourselves." He sauntered over to where you laid on the bed and sat next to you. The cheap mattress groaned under the added weight. "Been meaning to check out that massage parlor if you’re still interested."

        "What about Noct?"

         "He'll be fine for a few hours." Gladiolus said. "If anything Ignis is with him, he'll keep those two knuckleheads outta trouble. Besides," he slid his hands over your denim clad hips , "I would rather spend my time with you than with those three mugs."

         Your smile came easier this time and you pressed your lips against his. Euphoric thrills rolled over your skin and you carded your fingers through his soft raven strands. A masculine groan whispered over your mouth as you deepened the kiss. Peaches was wrong. She was wrong about everything, there was no darkness to worry about, no betrayal in your future, only happiness because Gladiolus was your future.

         His full weight completely settled over you. You shivered as hard planes and chiseled muscles touched your soft  and smooth flesh. Gladiolus’ lips moved over yours in a synchronized dance. His fingers glided over your shoulder before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for more.

         “I love you.” You confessed against his lips.

          You could feel him smile against yours. “How much?” He asked in a teasing voice rough with desire.

           “This much.” You wrapped your good arm around his neck. His clean spicy scent only spurred the insatiable urge to feel his naked skin against yours, to be consumed by him so completely you forget your woes for all eternity. 

          His lips found its way to your jaw, pressing open mouth kisses on the unmarked skin there. Electrified need pulsed throughout your body so fervently it blotted out everything else that wasn’t Gladiolus and your need to be touched. 

         Cool air tickled your stomach as he lifted your shirt for his awaiting mouth. Your stomach muscles fluttered beneath his lips and you tugged on his hair. 

        Hooking his fingers into your denim shorts, he pulled them over your legs till you were only left in your lacy red panties. Hunger darkened his eyes and made your whole body throb, vying for a release only he could give you. 

         Gladiolus found your neck once more, kissing and sucking your pulse point till it bloomed red. Your eyes fluttered open and found a small window on the opposite side of the caravan. Your heart stopped in your chest, the bed collapsing beneath you. 

         Amber eyes glared back at you, trapping your very soul in ice. You gasped, your body flinching off the bed. “What’s wrong, is it another migraine?” Gladiolus lifted his head from the crook of your neck and searched your wide terrified orbs. 

       A cold sweat peeled away your skin as you looked back at the window, only to find nothing but a darkening world beyond it. With a mouth full of cotton you sat up. Gladiolus sat beside you and grasped your hand, the warmth from his skin bringing a calm to the storm. 

      “Yeah, it just came out of nowhere.” You lied, but it was much better than admitting to a hallucination. Your stomach roiled, the moment ruined beyond repair.

         Sighing, Gladiolus climbed out of the bed and combed his fingers through his tousled hair. “I’ll see if I can find some pain killers for you. Need anything else while I’m gone?”

         Your sense of normalcy, perhaps? A tight smile stretched over your teeth, you hoped he wouldn't see right through it. “No, thank you babe.”

[puck-serves-cunt]

Uhhh don't look at me I'm having a moment-

Imperial traitor with government secrets and a man full of consequences and warped feelings, wonder how that goes hehehe totally not horribly badly for someone-

(Background without effects under the cut)

Ngl I have a LOT of messed up ideas about what this man would do to an unconscious or otherwise unable to fight back obsession someone stop me

[ataraxiaspainting]

Secrets of Wisteria.

Yan (Serial Killer) ??? x GN Reader.

Synopsis: They don't know what to do with you.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, gender-neutral yandere, violence/mentions of gore, thoughts of murdering the reader, manipulation, implications of sex work, mentions of starvation, drugging/alcohol, stalking, and dehumanization.

Word Count: 1.3k.

insert your fav!

*~*~*~*

It is said that everything in the universe has its place as a part of a side of a never-tipping scale.

A shining star provides warmth but also burns the flesh of those who get too close. The moon resembles that of an Earth erased of all life, a planet in all but name to some, promising to be a guiding light, but in reality is just a cold, desolate land. 

Do such beautiful stars ever scorch the adjacent moons? Do such pale, blue moons ever cause the brightness of adjacent stars to die with a shallow, husky breath? Do they simply stay with one another, because despite being able to hurt one another, the chain of space forces them to stay together?

Questions that, because of you and because of them, may finally be answered. It hurts them but also entices them.

Despite everything you had been through together, you had hurt them in ways no others have ever done.

They suffer whenever they are near enough to smell your perfume, wanting to close up their nostrils, throat, and mouth before they go down in a flame of their own making. 

The perfume is mixed with the scent of others’ sweat and pleasure, staining it in what feels to be shades of a dirty, dark black. If only you could see it, the blind fool you always were and still are.

They suffer whenever they hear your voice, see the way your lips move, your moans and little gasps. It sounds more tempting than that of a siren’s call.

Your face, the way you bat your eyelashes to get what you want. Your eyes are brighter than any supernova.

Their entire being is a black hole that wants nothing more than to swallow you.

You hurt them whenever they think of you, never wanting to burn an image of you so deeply into their brain. But, like a parasite, you unknowingly persisted. Now it is so rooted, that it has replaced some of their nerves and has left them wanting so much more. They are addicted to this poison you have created and forced down their throat. It is only fair that they get to do the same to you.

They put something in your drink to make everything down the road that much easier.

Being a blind fool, you didn’t notice that your wine turned into a deep shade of pink.

Pink in your cup, and red in theirs. The colors of love.

They didn’t have it in themselves, despite all of the unfortunate souls they have banished to hell, to put cyanide in your glass.

It would have been a much more merciful death in their opinion, though. It was fitting for a rat like you. But also will give you so much less pain than those who have met their end by a torturous blade.

You gulped it down with such ease. They were, to say the least, your favorite patron, giving you no reason to doubt them.

It was so hard to make money these days, especially in a town like this. You were grateful for them.

But still, you decided to hurt them.

It’s your fault, honestly—all of it. You are the sole reason that their kills aren’t as sharp as they used to be, so much more impulsive than they used to be.

They almost got caught just the other day. They had sprung into action without a thought in their mind to go for a person who looked just like you from behind, down to the clothes they wore.

It's all your fault. It's all your fault.

Whore.

That is what they want to say.

But they cannot, not yet at least.

…

“Come, we are almost there.” With each step down the stone stairs, a water droplet falls from above, the underground tunnel’s top.

These walls are older than some dynasties if their memory recalls. Made of the bones of traitors and peasants who have passed on from much more painful pains.

It was easy to sneak some of their victims’ bodies in here and place them in such a way that no one would ever know the truth.

“Why here, my dear sponsor?” Your eyes follow the lantern in their left hand, swinging left and right like a pendulum.

They don’t answer.

You don’t ask any more questions, your limbs feeling heavy from all of the walking and the alcohol.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

The rocks below you feel like they are moving. “Sure.”

You must have gone so deep into the earth by now that you can practically see the gates of hell. The lantern’s light is almost out, and the air feels heavy and damp.

“We are almost there.”

You feel so dizzy.

They feel so elated.

Not a word is said until they suddenly stop. A split path.

They point to the left.

You wait, but they do not move.

A second. Two. Three.

Is that uncertainty they see in your eyes?

That is new. It makes them excited for what is to come next.

“Simply go down that hall and you will see the cellar… I will be right behind you.” They added that last part to quell your questioning gaze.

They have never lured anyone here alive before. But like everyone else who has seen these catacombs and their cellar, you won’t leave them alive.

They can’t leave you as much as they try.

It is only natural that they use the chain that holds you two together to their advantage for once.

Their truth works. Your second thoughts vanish like the trapdoor and the ladder down the hall, to the beginning, an entrance to a hell you will never be able to open again.

It is quite fortunate to them that you are such a blind fool.

It is quite fortunate to them that you overlooked that skeleton that looked a little too fresh.

It is quite fortunate that they are such a good planner. They didn’t starve the man for nothing, it seems.

“...Alright. But… I will get my pay after this, won’t I?”

They nod.

“Of course.” They reply. “What sort of patron would I be if I did not give you what is due?”

Such a blind fool you are.

They’ll keep you. You are simply too stupid and too tempting to be free. “...Thank you.”

Along with the words of genuine gratitude, the flame finally extinguishes.

“...Huh?”

A swift chop is the last thing you hear, your body collapsing is the last thing you feel and see before you go unconscious.

“For everything.”

They don’t drag you like they do the others, instead putting in the effort to pick you up and curl your head into their chest.

“...”

This brings back memories both bitter and sweet for them. The first time you laid on the bed. The first time you kissed them. The first time they managed to drag someone else unconscious down here, although with much less care.

“...I mean it.”

They cleaned up everything in the cellar just for you, all of the gore disposed of. Though their trophies will remain. The brain of a doctor in a jar. The eyes of a photographer. The left hand of a young widow, the ring still on the rotting finger.

It will serve as a warning to you to behave, hopefully, for your sake. Making them angry is a bad idea for everyone involved. They would hate to bandage your broken limbs and stitch you back together like some stuffed toy. 

As they hum a tune only you have heard, they think of what collar to place on that pretty neck of yours. It is an important decision. That collar will stay on you far past when you are mounted on their wall, after all. But that is years if not decades away.

“...Thank you. You made everything so much easier.”

The scale tips in favor of the pale blue moons.

*~*~*~*

Hunter x Hunter - Feitan, Hisoka, Illumi.

My Hero Academia - Dabi, Bakugou, Shigaraki, Overhaul, Enji.

Jujutsu Kaisen - Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku, Mahito, Mei Mei.

Genshin Impact - (Fatui Harbinger/Fake Archon) Scaramouche, Arlecchino, Columbina, Dottore.

Honkai Star Rail - Sparkle, (Mara Struck) Jingliu, (Mara Stuck) Blade, Kafka, Dr. Ratio.

Bungou Stray Dogs - Fyodor Dostoevsky.

Final Fantasy VII - Sephiroth.

Demon Slayer - Muzan, Sanemi.

Hazbin Hotel - Alastor, Valentino, Vox.

Twisted Wonderland - Jade, Floyd, Leona, Rook, Lilia, Vil, Jamil.

Chainsaw Man - Makima, Barem.

Baldur's Gate III - (Ascended) Astarion, Cazador, Shar, Rapheal, Minthara, Mizora, Zariel.

*~*~*~*

free pdf of the cask of amontillado if anyone's interested!

[lovelyladyventress]

It is absolutely tragic that there is no Yandere Zack Fair tag on AO3! How can this be!?!? Someone (meaning me) should change that IMMEDIATELY! 😱😱😱

Must I do everything myself around here? *huffs impatiently*

I literally have SO MANY clack/zakkura fanfic ideas where Zack is kinda like a closet yandere who simps hard for his blonde bestie and has been searching for him for a long time. And it's not the abusive type yandere but like the psychotically protective, somewhat stalkery 'i will end anyone who hurts you' type of yandere.

I started writing it in like 2022 and dropped it, and now I'm interested in writing it again. I'm already three chapters in, and it's soo juicy and painful lmao! The rough synopsis is that Tifa and Aerith fall in love and get married, and it totally breaks Clouds heart because he was very in love with Tifa. Before the wedding, Cloud kind of disappears from the group for about five years and gets into a very toxic relationship with someone who completely takes advantage of his heartbreak and deteriorating mental state.

Then, years later, Cloud gets invited to the wedding and forces himself to go and be happy for his old friends. He puts on a front because he cares for both Tifa and Aerith and only wants their happiness.

But then.... Zack and Cloud meet again at the wedding for the first time in five years. Before Cloud left, Zack and him got into a heated argument, and then Cloud pulled another one of his disappearing acts. Zack had been looking for Cloud for a while, but realized that Cloud didn't want to be found and decided to leave him alone, against his own better judgment.

The real kicker that gets this plot going, is that at the wedding Zack observes Cloud's every movement like a hawk, taking in every detail with increasing worry. Zack notices that Cloud's lost a ton of weight, is covered in wounds and scars that Cloud quickly dismisses as 'mercenary work', that Cloud speaks numbly with a voice that is more monotone and withdrawn than Zack has ever heard, as if Cloud has completely checked out and lost the light in his blue eyes. The worst of all, when Cloud moves to take a glass of champagne Aerith offers him, Zack can see the wounds on his arm and neck, covered with bandages. Those marks are not those caused by fiends, but by a human.

And after the wedding, Zack decides that if Cloud won't take care of himself and treat himself right, then Zack will do it for him. He proceeds to infiltrate Cloud's life and turn it upside down. Oooh, drama! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

It's very much a dramatic hurt/comfort fic with lots of sensual tension, spice, and fluffy lovey dovey scenes. Just with a yandere zack hehehe!!! 😈

If you're interested in this fic idea, lemme know so I can let you know when I post it on AO3. :))))

[after-witch]

Fate Steps In [Yandere Sephiroth x Reader]

Title: Fate Steps In [Yandere Sephiroth x Reader]

Synopsis: Self-pity is the strongest emotion you cling to nowadays, but sometimes you wonder if you even deserve to feel it. Does any woman who willingly walks into the arms of someone like Sephiroth deserve to feel sorry for themselves? 

Word count: 5046

notes: yandere, captive (but not kidnapped) reader, NSFW bondage sex, mentions of physical and mental abuse, threats

You’re stubborn. Too stubborn for his liking, and shouldn’t everything--everything--be to his liking? Oh, yes, you are frightened of him, as you should be. And oh, yes, you are obedient, as you should be… but it’s only to a certain point. 

Sometimes it’s almost entertaining, the way you think he doesn’t notice this.  Yes, you are quick to jump when he says jump, but there’s always a little something you do to keep yourself intact. If he tells you to sit on his lap, you don’t fight his order in any overt way, but you keep your muscles tensed or pull away from his body-- just a fraction of an inch, just a little. 

If he presses you against the wall and begins to ravage your neck with bruising kisses, you don’t cry or scream or press your hands uselessly against his shoulders. But you keep your eyes glued to something behind him, you keep your lips pressed together, refusing to acknowledge his actions to his full satisfaction.

Such little things that you do. You probably think he doesn’t care. He’s never said anything about it, after all. Yet he does notice, and he does care, and he will do something about it in time. 

You’re holding onto something, keeping yourself from completely giving in to the hand that he presses down on your shoulder. Why haven’t you given in to him? Why haven’t you fully accepted your place by his side--no, at his feet? 

There are not many who would resist the will of Sephiroth, and yet you are doing just that. 

He won’t stand for it forever. But. He is patient and fully aware of his own abilities. He can wait. He knows that he will break you down eventually. You will become exactly what he has imagined for you, you will fit that mold even if he has to break your body as well as your mind to make you fit.

The only question is, how long will you last? 

-

You hate Sephiroth. You hated him even before you knew who he was, hated him from the moment you were born, some innate natural instinct that made you understand he was not normal, he was not good, he should not exist.

Yet it doesn’t matter how you feel about him. Or anything else, for that matter. Because you’re stuck. Stuck with him. Stuck in his world. 

Self-pity churns in your stomach so often these days that you swear you can taste it, a distinct sour bile that occasionally finds its way rising to your throat. Self-pity is perhaps the most selfish thing you’ve felt in so long, maybe even the only selfish emotion you’re allowed to keep for yourself. 

Should you even be allowed to feel that pitiful emotion? It’s something you’ve considered now and then. 

It’s terrible here, true. It’s terrible living in this compound (though his quarters are certainly spacious, certainly well-equipped, certainly nothing to sneeze at) and being under the thumb of a man whose very being makes your soul want to squirm. It’s terrible being pulled away from your friends and family. You miss them so much, a constant ache that can never be soothed. If you could just see them again, or hear them--no, not even that much. If you could just know they were all right, that might be enough.

It’s astounding, the things you will accept when your life has been compressed down to a singular person. 

It was awful enough to learn of his… pursuit of you before all this. You couldn’t call it a “romantic pursuit,” though you sometimes get the feeling he would disagree. He wanted you, wholly, in a way you would never give to anyone--much less to him. You denied him. At first. At first and then… he got what he wanted. And now, the simple concept of peace has been lost to you forever. He controls what you do and who you talk to and what you wear and sometimes you wonder if there is a “you” at all anymore, or if you have been turned into some kind of marionette made of flesh and blood, moving about on his whims, fingers dancing along your strings. 

All of that is true.

Yet it’s also true that you’re here of your own free will. A fact he reminds you of often, the metaphorical grinding of his boot onto your wound. You could’ve said no. You could’ve rejected him that one… final… time.

But you couldn’t say no. Not when the offer he made was so cruel. And so you agreed, and you came with him, and now here you are. Signed, sealed, delivered. 

Can you truly feel self-pity when it’s something you ran into head-first, knowing what would happen? Knowing the consequences? Knowing, deep down, what would become of you?

The sour taste touches the back of your tongue, and you swallow it down. Disgust blooms in your stomach, matching the taste. 

At least that churning self-pity is something you keep for yourself. Sephiroth has taken many things from you. Your freedom, your family, the ability to make even the simplest of choices for yourself. But he can’t take every secret, not when you keep this--and other things, small things, oh so small but crucial to your sanity--to yourself. 

You have to hold onto that. You don’t know what will happen if you don’t. 

--

Perhaps he has been neglecting you. It’s a strange, almost soft thought that comes to his mind as he watches you sleep. He enjoys watching you sleep. You would hate the reason why, if you knew. He enjoys watching you sleep because in your sleep, you are perfectly helpless, unable to resist him as you do in your waking hours.

Sleep is the only time you’re unable to control yourself, and your face goes slack in your dreams--calm and rested, not pinched and pouting and trying so hard to stay composed in his presence. And he can revel in the fact that there is at least one part of your day--your nights, rather--in which you can’t put up your pointless, silly little bits of resistance.

Perhaps it’s your restful look that is giving him pause. You could not say he’s neglecting you physically. No, he is always sure to deliver on that point. But perhaps he is too wrapped up in his own goals, what he is striving to achieve not just for himself but for the entire world, to give you the attention you need. The attention that will finally force you to drop your useless resistance and accept him. Accept yourself, too--who you should be, now that he has you.

You sigh in your sleep, turning over in the bed. The sheets underneath you rustle with the movement and he finds himself closing his eyes, soaking in your undisturbed presence.

 One day, soon, you’ll behave like this even when you are awake. 

He looks forward to it.

--

There is something wrong with Sephiroth. Undeniably, unquestionably wrong. 

If you hadn’t been told not to speak to any of the men in the compound without permission, you might tell them so yourself. What if he is sick? What if something has snapped in his brain, and you and everyone here are just seconds away from being vaporized in some chaotic explosion bubbling under the surface? Figurative or maybe even literal. 

You know there is something wrong with him, because he won’t leave you alone. Of course, he is always there in the mornings and in the evenings. To choose your outfit and tell you what to eat and push you onto the bed for sex that always end with bruises and soreness. But beyond that? You were often left to your own devices, limited though they are. You’ve taken to enjoying the middle of the day, because you can pretend that you’re somewhere else to a blissful extent. Reading a book in the corner even feels normal, until you hear the telltale sound of the door opening and he strides in, demanding your attention. 

But now? It seems like he’s always trailing your shadow, or worse, insisting on bringing you everywhere with him. Whereas you might be left alone to read a book for the afternoon before, you’re now forced to sit in shadowy rooms while he talks with someone you’ve never met. While he scours old maps and all the books that almost crumble when he turns the pages. While he walks the corridors of the compound, now with you trailing behind him. You imagine you must look dutiful, your steps quickening on the cold floors as he strides down them. Dutiful--and a bit like a puppy following its master.

Maybe that’s what he wants? You don’t know how to account for the shift in his behavior. Yes, he was possessive before. But there’s something different to his actions now that gives you the greatest sense of unease. It’s maddening. You can’t remember the last time you were alone, truly alone. 

All those little habits you’d acquired are now, patiently, surely--shaken and ruined. He doesn’t let you read unless you’re sitting in the same room with him, no, more than that: unless you’re sitting on his lap. You can’t take in a single word when he insists on this at first, but find--and there’s something horrifying about this--that little by little, you can focus once again on the pages despite his body underneath yours. Despite his arms around you. Despite his voice occasionally crooning in your ear.

You have to, don’t you? Otherwise you’d never be able to enjoy a book again. That’s what you tell yourself as your body begins to slowly unwind from its magnificently held tension, as your brain begins to allow you to read the books without skimming over half the pages. As you relax in the arms he keeps around you. 

As the days pass and relaxation becomes the norm. As you almost forget who he is and what he does and what he can do.

And then comes the worst of it.

He speaks to you. Oh, no. Not the low threats that he eagerly hissed in  your ear when you weren’t being obedient enough; not the teasing remarks made when he had you underneath him on the bed, spread and wet and keening.

But ordinary words. 

“What, exactly, have you been reading all this time?”

You must do a double take, because he smiles. It’s not a nice smile, but it doesn’t--for once--appear intentionally cruel. The simple sight of his lips quirked upwards brings an instinctive curling to your gut, regardless of intention.

Your heart thrums in your chest for a few agonizing beats.

And then you slowly bring the cover up, keeping your finger on the page, shifting on his lap uncomfortably. It’s a novel. One about a world that doesn’t exist and couldn’t exist, because the world in the book is fair and beautiful and nothing like the one you live in.  It’s one of the only possessions you were allowed to bring from home, and one of the few books in the compound you could tolerate. You’ve read it a thousand times, you’re sure. 

He regards the somewhat saccharine cover and then flicks his gaze back to you.  

“It seems pointless.” 

You can practically hear the gears whirring in his head (will he make you get rid of it, you wonder?) so you you slip your bookmark back into the pages--you get the feeling you won’t be able to focus on it for a while, anyway--and hold the book almost protectively to your chest. 

“I like books like this,” you say, a hint of defense in your voice. “They’re fun.”  And then you feel your muscles clench in icy fear, because you just talked back at him, didn’t you? Whined at him, like a child. 

Maybe that was his plan all along… to make you forget who he was so you would slip up, and he could punish you for it. He did once threaten to break your leg if you didn’t stop complaining and struggling. And he did break your finger, the first time you slapped him.  You’ve never done it since. You learn quickly. 

You expect at the very best, a low threat in your ear, a reminder of your place. Skipping the warning and going right to something that bruises or hurts or scares is something else at the forefront of your mind.

He does neither.

Instead, he reaches out with a gloved hand and lightly taps the cover that you’re clutching so desperately to your chest. 

“I can find more, if you like.”

You don’t realize that you’re biting the inside of your cheek until you open your mouth to say something, shifting your teeth away from the well-bitten flesh. There’s an aching, thick soreness and the taste of metal on your tongue. But you get the words out anyway, soft, confused little words, words you never thought you’d say to him at all. 

“Thank you?”

You can’t bear to look at him to see his response, so you stare back down at the cover. 

He chuckles, and the sound seems to rumble in his chest, pressing against your back like a car motor.

It’s a strange sensation that sticks with you like tar for a long while after.

Sticks to you like Sephiroth seems content to do. 

And yet…  after a while, like so many other changes in your life, you find you don’t notice it as much. You find that It becomes normal. Normal to follow him here and there. Normal to sit quietly while he does things that you tune out, instead focusing on a new book you’ve been given or, if your eyes are tired or it’s too dark to read, conjuring up daydreams to keep yourself occupied. Normal to sit on his lap in the evenings, calm, relaxed, taking in a new story or simply gathering your energy before the inevitable at the end of the night. 

Normal to be around Sephiroth so much that you forget your self-proclaimed rebellions. Not all at once. Not abruptly. Little by little, inch by inch, they don’t seem necessary anymore. Why tense up on his lap when all he was doing was holding you, instead of groping and pinching and biting? Why refuse to answer his questions, when he was asking different ones now, milder ones, about your interests and childhood? 

Why fight as much as you have been, when you don’t need to anymore?

If you weren’t so tired of being tense and wound tight as can be, and then finally so relieved at the gradual slackening of that tension, that question would have scared you.

It should have scared you.

--

“Good. Now stay still for me.”

As if I have a choice, you think, tensing your wrists against the coolness of the military grade steel cuffs. 

He’s never tied you up before. Why would he need to? You don’t struggle, you don’t fight. What little fight you had against his sexual advances died the first night you tried them, when it was abundantly clear that you never stood a chance. 

With these cuffs, however, the fear you thought had seeped from your body in recent weeks has come crawling back, thick and sludge-like. It’s a familiar, horrible sensation that weighs you down with dread. 

It’s almost funny that you didn’t believe him at first, when he told you to put your hands up against the headboard so that he could cuff them there. You even scoffed a little, pushing the edge of insubordination that had been drummed out of you with a broken finger and threats that didn’t bear repeating. 

Yet he merely smiled, and it was a hungry smile, one that made your heart beat so fast that you felt a little sick. 

You did it, though, and now here you are--handcuffed to the bed with hard steel cuffs… that were padded on the insides. You wonder if he had them custom made, and what the other person thought of his request. You wonder this, because wondering why he wanted you bound to the bed, and what he might be planning seems far worse. So you screw your eyes shut and think inane things, trying to ward off the fear coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach. 

“Open your eyes.” 

So much for that. 

Slowly, you force yourself to open them; your eyelids stick for a moment, as if even your body wants to rebel against fully acknowledging whatever it is Sephiroth has planned for the evening.

What you see when your eyes finally focus is Sephiroth standing above you, chest bared, his eyes shining impossibly in the darkness of the room. Shining, as always, with life… with something teeming underneath that wants to pull you down under and keep you there until you drown.

You wish you could move your arms. If you could move your arms, you might be able to control the anxiety prickling at you, threatening to wash over you too much and too fast if things continue. 

“What,” you ask, and it’s the strongest tone you’ve felt the urge to use with him in so long, “do you want?” You clench and unclench your hands, drawing his attention, referring to the cuffs without actually acknowledging them out loud. 

He doesn’t answer. Instead he crawls on the bed, keeping himself in between your bare--but thankfully untied--legs. 

“Don’t be foolish. You know exactly what I want.” 

Looking down at his gaze, hungry and gleaming, it’s easy enough to tell. 

You swallow, throat thick. You don’t want to be tied up for this. At least when you can move, there’s the false hope of being able to fight back, of having some control over what he does to your body. What he makes you do, underneath him. But with your hands bound above you,  you can’t stop him, even if you were brave enough to try. It doesn’t matter what he does, pleasure or pain, you simply have to take it. Because you can’t. fucking. move. 

“Please untie me,” you whisper. It’s a pathetic sound, and you regret making it. 

“No,” he says, casual, flippant. If he notices your distress, he says nothing. Instead, his gloved hands press against your thighs, pushing until you spread your legs further for him. You don’t want to look down, but you do, and the way that he’s staring at your exposed nakedness makes your heart flutter in fear and anticipation and something else dark and lonely and shame-ridden.

“You’ll enjoy this,” he murmurs. 

--

And you do.

Oh, you do.

Your hips arch upwards, and you feel your shoulders stretch from the limited range the cuffs provide you. A sound pushes past your lips, a helpless keening, breathy and whiny. 

You can’t help the noises anymore. You’re long past that point, the point of trying to keep them in, embarrassed and frustrated at the helpless position he’s forced on you. You can’t keep it in. Not when his mouth and his fingers have been working at your needy pussy for what feels like an eternity. You don’t know how many orgasms he’s torn out of you, hot and pulsing and overstimulated in the best possible way. 

The warm drag of leather against your clit has your hips bucking, and the sound you make is not sweet keen but a low, desperate groan. It feels so good, it feels so bad--you don’t know exactly what you’re meant to be feeling, only that you are feeling it because he wants you to. Because he demands it from you, and you--prone and unable to move--have no option but to obey.

“Please.” Your plea is punctuated with a thready gasp as his fingers pinch your clit softly. “I don’t…” Yet you don’t even get the opportunity to finish your sentence, whatever your orgasm-addled mind was going to come up with, because he’s stroking your clit with agonizingly short, pressured movements, keeping it pinched between his two fingers.

The sensation is too much, too soon. You feel a hot, stinging orgasm building and you don’t want it but you do want it, and you pull against the cuffs so hard that if they weren’t padded, you’d be bleeding. When your orgasm hits, it’s a wave rushing over your lower body with pleasure, making your hips buck and your mouth gape open. A bit of drool pools at the corner of your lips, and you can’t even wipe it away. 

“You don’t what?” He asks, and his tone is almost honeyed. Your stomach clenches at the unusual softness in his voice, which is such a contrast from how he normally speaks to you when you’re underneath him, wet and undone.

Every inch of your skin feels hot and tingly, overstimulated and yet still craving more. You want him to touch you, you want him to fuck you, you want him to fill you up and for your clenching pussy to feel full and satisfied. It’s all too much, your body’s needy senses overwhelming what your mind knows it shouldn’t want. And yet above it all is that low, tight helplessness that keeps your gut curling, keeps your heart fluttering with just enough fear to make you wonder what else he might do to you when you’re prone like this? When you can’t even pretend to fight back, when all you can do is accept what he gives. And gives. And gives.

“I don’t know,” you finally say, turning your head against the pillow. It’s a half-groan, confused, frustrated. A few tears trickle down your eyes, and you don’t know if they’re from emotion or the sheer overwhelming sensations he’s been forcing out of you.

“Unfortunate. I thought you had already realized.” 

He hums, and you force yourself to turn your head back and look at him.

“Realized what?” Your voice is a sad croak.

And then he’s crawling on the bed, enveloping you with his body. It makes you feel smaller. It makes you wish the cuffs on your wrists would break.

“It doesn’t matter if you know.” His thumb wipes at your tears, the leather dragging on your skin. “I know what you need. That’s all that matters.”

And before you can think about his words, without preamble or warning, his cock is inside of you, full and thick and stretching your insides. You’re so slick inside that it doesn’t hurt as much as it might have, but it’s still unexpected. Your breath catches in your chest and it’s like you can’t breathe for a few horrible seconds. 

You do breathe, and with breath comes sounds, groans, little whimpers that bubble past your lips as he thrusts inside you as hard as he wants. That’s what it’s always been about, hasn’t it? From the moment you came within his sights. What he wants. And what he wants you to want.

His hair curtains over your body, tickling, shimmering. For some reason your mind wants to focus on that, keeping you grounded. Keeping you from feeling like you’re just going to float away from everything, right here, while he fucks you into the mattress and your arms are sore and you want to be able to at least put your arms around his shoulders (but you shouldn’t, you know, you shouldn’t want that). But you can do nothing but whimper 

“You��ll enjoy this more,” he says, echoing his earlier words. Does he mean the sex? Being tied up? Or something else, something he won’t vocalize, but which you feel in your bones. 

And, in the end… you do enjoy it. You really do.

--

“Your stubbornness will cease.”

His words aren’t unexpected, but you tense nonetheless. 

You’re facing the wall, a decision you made with an almost pointed petulance as soon as he’d uncuffed you from the headboard… the next morning. His refusal to untie you that night when he’d had his fill of your body, the fitful sleep you managed to get, the humiliation of waking up and having to ask once again to be untied… it falls bundled up tight into your stomach and that’s where it remains.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you murmur, though you know full well.

Pain spreads on your upper arm, and you realize he’s gripping you, squeezing tight. It’s surprising and you turn immediately, feeling trained. Your eyes slowly move to meet his gaze.

“Don’t forget your place,” he says. 

The way he says it is almost more infuriating than the words themselves. Not threatening and angry, no, but chastising… like you are a silly girl who has forgotten some lesson, and he’s simply tut-tut reminding you of that.

Perhaps that’s a more apt description than  you realize.

If anything, your lips curl even more at his words, despite the pain from his grip, despite the intelligent common sense left inside you telling you to stop, apologize, and obey.

“Don’t forget,” he leans in, not even whispering the words, “whose lives are in my hands.”

And that’s what makes you completely tense, body and mind snapping tight as a wire. 

Your parents. He would kill your parents. That’s how he got you in the first place, threatening to kill them. How could you say no, when that was the offer on the table? Come with him or he’ll slaughter them in cold blood and make you watch, too. 

Your body is sore--from his grip, from the sex, from being cuffed to the bed all night. Your muscles ache and groan as you push against the bed, trying to sit up. He lets you, releasing your arm as you push yourself up against the pillows.

“Please don’t hurt them.” Words that have passed your lips too often for your liking. 

Thoughts rush through your mind, even though you want to stay focused on appeasing his irritation with you. Your parents… do they miss you? Do they think you’re dead? Do they know where you are? Are they okay?

“How are they?” You ask. It’s a sad question, made even sadder by your subdued, meek tone. It’s all he has to do, push a few specific buttons, and what fire you may have kindled inside is quickly controlled.

He shifts on the bed, bringing himself to sit up beside you. A gloved hand goes to your chin, holding it firm.

“You think about them, even now, when I’m next to you. Is that truly what occupies your mind so often? Is this why you keep yourself from me? Why you won’t submit?”

He tilts your chin to the side, examining your face, examining something much deeper than that. 

“Is it so much to demand that you live in the present?" His grip tightens, but his voice softens. Not honeyed and cooing, but questioning. Almost as if he’s partially talking to himself. “Is it so hard to love me?”

The question hangs in the air. You have no words for him. 

Then, he leans forward and kisses you. But your muscles don’t tense like they would have before. Your lips don’t press down, thin and hard, rejecting him in any way you can. You want to do these things… but you don’t. You’re afraid. You’re lonely. 

Your lips move against his, warm and wet, and the soft sound you make against him is unbidden and so, so lonely.

When he pulls away, he drops your chin and regards you for a few moments. You’ve never been able to tell what he is thinking, although you should likely be glad for that fact. You think he might say something more or demand an apology or any number of things other than what he does. He simply stands, slips on some clothing, and leaves the room. 

 --

You don’t see him again until the afternoon. By then, you’ve already gotten dressed, and curled up in the chair to read your book. The words feel hollow and although you read each sentence three or four times, you’re not really absorbing anything on the pages. You’re too lost and confused about everything that’s happened. 

The familiar creaking of the door makes you pivot. You’re not sure what to expect. Will he be angry? Acts like nothing happened? It’s too difficult to tell. 

If he’s angry, it doesn’t show on his face or in his body language. He merely walks towards you and tosses something in your lap. You drop the book against the side of the chair and catch the object with your hands. 

You stare at it and you hold it, but it takes so long for you to register what you’re holding. It’s a photograph. A photograph and a frame. A photograph and a frame depicting your parents. They’re smiling. Happy. They are okay after all, and a part of you wants to ask a million questions (When was the photo taken? Did my mom dye her hair? Are they still living in the old house? What about my dad’s shop? Do they know where I am?) but you know that the photograph itself was a concession that Sephiroth likely never intended to make until today and the questions don’t make it past your rushing thoughts.

You parents are alright. They must be. Why else would he give you this photo? A sight you were denied all this time, a sight that makes you feel comforted, delighted, sad, bitter--so many things all at once. 

Somehow this knowledge--they’re safe, they’re safe, they’re safe--breaks something inside of you that you’ve been clinging to all this time. A piece of you that used to sleep in your childhood bedroom, a piece that tried desperately to cling to the door between your old life and this one. A life that you chose, but that you weren’t entirely free to leave either. Not if you wanted your family to be safe. Not if you wanted to continue to feel selfless rather than selfish. 

When you look up, Sephiroth is watching you. Eyes green and living and his face knowing, understanding. Without saying anything at all, you somehow realize that he knows exactly what you’re feeling and why. And that it’s exactly what he wants. 

[kitsunefox1108]

SELF AWARE! CLOUD STRIFE X FEM!READER

You are angel? Part 2

You are dreaming.

A very strange dream...

You are out of space and time, looking somewhere into the distance. Silence, without any sound.

But the next thing you see is...

- Cloud?

You watch in surprise as he approaches you. He doesn't say anything and seems to be puzzled by something. You look at him questioningly, expecting at least something.

But he just came over. Close. Very close.

It literally could violate your personal space. However, you couldn't move. Just watch.

Cloud gently touches your cheek.

Your stomach tightens with tension, you do not understand what is happening.

- Cloud, what's going on?

But he seems not to hear you, only reduces the distance between your faces.

You already assumed the outcome of events, and were going to close your eyes, but..

The alarm clock rang loudly, you gasped in surprise, and almost broke it.

I had to get up ... Things are waiting.

You got out of bed and started brushing your hair. Moving on, you look back at your gaming device..

It was just a dream... Wasn't it?

You look at your watch. You still have an hour.

You just want to make sure it wasn't real.

You turned on the device, found the game on it, and launched it.

Code error.

Strange and incomprehensible symbols ..

- what the hell? I didn't delete any important game files. - you whisper in surprise, not understanding why this could happen.

For a split second, you saw blonde hair and Mako's glowing eyes fixed on you, but then they were gone. You bat your eyelashes in surprise, hoping it's just a bug.

Text appears on the desktop saying "Did I scare you?"

You throw away the gamepad in shock, your hands begin to shake. Not knowing how to answer, you just nod.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I just want to know something..."

- who are you?... And what do you want?...

"You clearly know who I am. Remember the name Cloud Strife?"

- yes... I remember... Wait, Cloud?!... what the...

Was the dream real? You do not know how to react, the brain boils too much. Your thoughts are full, there are more questions than answers. What should you do? If it's really Cloud and not just a glitch... Or a virus?

"Don't worry. It's all right. You have nothing to fear."

You would like to believe these words, but when the guy's hands began to reach out to you, you could hardly hold back your scream.

[crisiscutie]

Angry Sephiroth + nsfw + "On your kness. I want you to beg for forgiveness." + prideful darling.

Please?

Something about Sephy domming the darling gets me swooning. Enjoy a Crisis Cutie Collection fic starring AC Sephy. Also, a HoS episode.

Pairing: AFAB Darling/AC Sephiroth (HoS AU)

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warning: NSFW, Dubcon/Noncon, Fighting, Blood, Sadomachism. Mind Control. Mind Break.

You and Sephiroth were surrounded by silence, broken only by the evening wind. The Sephiroth you were with was usually intense towards you and had been unpredictable in the past. However, recently he had been showering you with love. He had been there for you during your sudden and mysterious illness, giving you reassurance with every touch. He listened intently to your worries and aspirations for the future, without ever saying a word. Even now, he was spoiling you by taking you on a stroll. You were so far away from the house, it filled your adventurous heart with joy. You wondered if this newfound tranquility was because he was finally at ease with the other Sephiroths, and with the reality of sharing you. Suddenly, you felt a slight pressure from his grip on you. His gloved hand was firm and secure as he placed it just underneath your right breast. He began massaging the flesh slowly and methodically, as if he had a purpose in doing it.

This wasn't his sole oddity; this particular Sephiroth had been quiet during your time together. While you were busy studying the trees and taking in the natural beauty around you, he was silently observing you. It was strange how he had been so quiet. But, there was no point in worrying about it at the moment. Instead, you allowed yourself to be enveloped by the dreariness of the gloomy woods. It was such a liberating feeling to be away from that confining ethereal house. Through, you knew that you would eventually have to return.

As you walked alongside the river ravine, you felt mesmerized by the cool air that blasted up from its depths. However, as you continued further, you noticed that the water was becoming shallow and the river's depths were dwindling. Suddenly, Sephiroth came to a halt, his fingers digging into your delicate flesh as a signal for you to stop as well. You studied him, sensing the prickling energy around you two as you waited for his response.

“This could be our future together,” he murmured, pushing your petite body closer to his chest. As he looked up, his words continued to flow, you couldn't help but be captivated by his beauty. In the gloomy light from the clouds, his sinister nature was almost overshadowed by his angelic appearance.

"And what of the other Sephiroths?" You innocently asked, anxiety bubbled within you. He chuckled, his strong hands kneading into your soft flesh. It's starting to hurt a little bit. Why is he so insistent on gently stroking that area of your body!?

"They will join this planet's Lifestream. Girdle the planet — choking it; corroding it." His cool, deep voice echoed in the air. You muffled a sob, your gaze growing more frightened as he looked at you. Those words. It's as if you heard them before. And the other Sephiroths, you don't want them to go... You treasure them as much as you cherish this one. Why can't they just get along!? Sephiroth grasped your jaw firmly, digging his thumb and index finger into your soft cheeks.

"When you and Mother become one, our dream will be realized," his eyes narrowed and his lips twisted into a sinister and sadistic grin after his last words. When his slit eyes met your own, a chill ran down your spine. "It seems I won't have to do much after all... You already have her eyes..." He spoke in a low, sultry whisper. When you heard his last sentence, you were filled with dread. You had no more interest in talking to him, so you quickly turned your head away. But with his punishing grip on your jaw, he made you stare back into his piercing eyes.

"No, not yet! I need to know who I am..." You spoke, your voice becoming choked with sorrow and fear, but with a tinge of resolve. Sure, your hands were trembling, but the strength of your words was unmistakable. Your resolve will eclipse your dread.

"And for what? To learn of your past betrayals and your broken promise to join her? Your mission is fruitless. Make new memories. With me." His free hand rested it on your lower belly, where your womb was at.

Part of you felt drawn to his offer. The loving and familiar tone beneath his mockingly affectionate words was almost too tempting to resist. Yet a bigger part of you was consumed with an intense rage. No one will force you into this decision, not even him. You don't care, even if his lie about your consent to join Jenova is somehow true. That's a decision you won't be making for a long time, if ever. You may not be able to choose your fate of being confined in the house, or how the Sephiroths and Jenova view you, but you can always choose your identity.

This next move of yours is certainly foolish. But with every ounce of strength you had, you wrenched yourself out of his grasp and gave him a swift kick as a parting gift. You only saw his face for a moment, but you could tell your sudden show of resistance surprised him. He quickly regained his balance as his Masamune manifested from the air, and a twisted, wide grin crept across his face.

You won't last long, but at least you're defending your honor. You luck out as you narrowly miss a swipe of his blade, feeling the chill of the metal as it rushes past you. That swipe would've wiped your head clean off. Your adrenaline firing up as you watched some of your hair cut away from that. He then lunges his blade towards you again, forcing you to employ the evasive technique another Sephiroth taught you, the one who rarely visits the ethereal house.

"On your knees. I want you to beg for forgiveness," His voice was low and sultry, but the underlying anger was unmistakable. You shook your head, feeling the heat of your rage and the intensity of your arousal. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you faced the danger. This is a nice change of pace, but why are you so energized? Perhaps it's the thrill of flirting with danger? Or asserting your identity?

A searing pain erupted when he dragged his long blade across your left abdomen, making you yelp in agony. His slit eyes constricted as he inhaled the strong, metallic smell of your blood in the air. You could tell by the intensity of his gaze that he was tiring of this mock battle.

You kept up your facade of resistance, evading his strikes with good effort, but each one made it harder and harder to stay standing. You attempted to charge forward, but his blade piercing your body forced you to come to an abrupt halt. His facial expression suddenly softened to a loving one, yet you could still feel his dark pleasure as he languidly lifted you up with his long blade. You forget that despite his lean appearance, he's as muscular and strong as the other Sephiroths underneath his trench coat.

"You've never looked so beautiful..."He uttered in his trance, as if this moment of cruelty wasn't really happening. You grimaced, but still managed to give him a triumphant beam. He may have wounded your body, but he hasn't wounded your spirit yet. After his loving expression wavered, his furious snarl came back, flinging you from his long blade. You plummeted into the shallow ravine with a loud thud, the hard ground sending shockwaves through your body, but your adrenaline rush made it easier to stomach.

You sat up on your knees and peered into the water's reflection, but you couldn't bring yourself to look into your own eyes. Your exhilaration quickly disappeared when a sudden, searing pain in your head took over. You saw a vision of yourself and Sephiroth. In it, you could almost feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek and see the curl of his lips as he smirked.

"You're just a broken doll, existing to be filled with whatever I choose," His voice was like a spell, calm and sadistic, it lingered in your mind. An unbearable sensation began in your right abdomen, even though he hadn't hurt you in that spot. You whimpered, the pebbles in the shallow water clattered against each other in your fists. You then ripped your dress open, observing the flesh of your skin underneath your right breast.

After it was gone for some time, you couldn't believe it. Your mysterious illness made its unwelcome return known, the symptoms making you weak in the knees. Could this Sephiroth be the cause of this overwhelming force? You reached to touch the flesh, but your hands recoiled. It's a thick, oozy blackness on your skin. Is that why he was kneading, probing, and squeezing this exact spot? You let out an agonized moan as another vision invaded your throbbing head. It was one of him tenderly holding your naked form, his gloved fingers stroking your enlarged clit as he murmured sweet nothings in your ear.

A gloved hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to gaze upon your own reflection in the glassy surface of the river. There was a faint glow radiating from your vivid pinkish-red slit eyes, just like hers.

"You were never in control... All you are is a broken doll," He said, now directly behind you. Those last two words bounced around in your head like a pinball. He gracefully lowered himself to your level, mounting your petite body. His lips were like velvet against your earlobe, while his other hand caressed the blackened, gooey flesh beneath your right breast. He used his thumb to tease your nipple.

You moaned, feeling both pain and pleasure, the goosebumps rose up on your skin. You should not be taking any pleasure in the suffering he's causing you... But maybe he's right. Maybe you're really just a broken doll, waiting for someone or something to breathe life back into you with a few strokes of a paintbrush. With the past behind you, why not create a brighter future with him? But these thoughts... AREN'T YOURS! ...right? His arousal pressed against you, igniting your body with desire as he filled your mind with increasingly sensual visions. The sky shifted from its once light and gloomy hue to a deep, inky darkness, leaving the two of you enveloped in shadows. Your hand instinctively finds his gloved one, clasping it beneath your right breast.

"W-what is this on my body? Why hasn't her cells cured me?!" you shouted, struggling to get the words out before the overwhelming sensations consumed you.

"Who knows? I'm delighted that my test run was successful. I wonder how far she will let me go this time..." He said it in a stoic yet joyous tone. His cock rested at your wet entrance for a moment. You waited with bated breath for him to just plunge into your depths. Instead, he goes for your ass, eliciting a surprised gasp from you. He filled your tight hole with his entire length, taking no mercy. The set pace was languid, but every slow thrust had the force behind it, like a hammer hitting a nail. It's a good thing that the water from the ravine eased his entrance, but no matter, you're still clutching onto the pebbles in the water for dear life. He still traced circles on your oozing, dark flesh, the sensation filled you with pain.

You almost want to reach for your neglected cunt, but his menacing gaze bore into the back of your head, daring you to defy him by pleasuring yourself. You then let go of all resistance, allowing your beloved Sephiroth to claim you. His pleasure is paramount, not yours. How can you be so selfish and forget your bond with him and the others? You will always have a special bond with the Sephiroths, as you are their beloved darling.

With his powerful thrusts, you can feel and hear your tight hole squelching, the sound of smacking flesh resonating. His languid pace is driving you insane. Like the other Sephiroth, he had already located your sweet spot that made your body quiver with delight, but he maintained a slow and steady rhythm. You know you've been a bad girl for him, but your body is aching for more of his touch, begging for him to increase his speed and attend to your cunt. He leaned down, his warm breath tickling your ear.

"Don't you see? Even Mother knows you belong to me," His composed tone was louder and more forceful. His thrusts increased in intensity as more of his passionate words filled your mind and his voice vibrated in your ears. You feel your knees shake, but his forceful presence behind you presses onward, refusing to give you a moment of rest. You are to sit there and take him, like the ungrateful traitor you are. His fingers dug into your jaw with increasing force while he slammed his hips into you.

After some time, your body shook with intense tremors as his corrupted seed infiltrated your guts. The overwhelming ache in your knees caused them to give way, and you fell face first into the water's icy embrace. He pulled out of your ass slowly, his seed still dripping down his member. When a few moments passed, you weakly lifted your head from his commanding voice in your head. Your clit was still erect and your needy cunt was still unfilled. You won't be able to reach your climax this time.

You gazed back into the flowing water and saw your reflection ripple back. You looked the same, but your eyes had an even more intense glow this time. A terrified whimper came from your lips when you spotted Sephiroth's reflection alongside yours, his sinister smirk on his face as he nuzzled against your warm cheek. Why is this your fate? Your eyes stung as a single tear fell while a strange, different voice reverberated in your head.

"Because...you are a doll."

doll. Alternate title: AC Sephy Manhandles His Precious Doll. This is a pretty important entry in HoS, so I figured to make this into a fic. Also, I thought this would be a good opportunity to expand on the "doll analogy" for the darling. I love it so much... Thank you to the wonderful anon who first brought it to my attention. And thanks to the anon who requested this prompt!

[sephirthoughts]

what if sefikura but cloud is the horny yandere who won’t leave sephiroth alone

[delicate-fayette]

HI

I am back (kinda??) I’ll try and do some requests, but I’m flattered to see so many people interested in my blog! If anyone has any ideas or like. Just general musings about Yandere FF characters please tell me 👀 I need to get the Yandere thoughts back in my head

[itsgeecheebitch]

TITLE: Until Darkness Descends

PAIRING: Ardyn Izunia x reader

RATING: Explicit

FANDOM: Final Fantasy XV

TW: Dubcon

CHAPTER: 14

         "Ooh fuck!" You sobbed, your hands searched the plush surface of your blanket, desperate to find something to hold onto. 

           Ardyn gave you one more hard suck on your clit and your hands flew into his hair instantly. You couldn't think, you couldn't breath, you couldn't even remember why you didn't want this in the first place. You're hurling closer and closer to the finish line at a startling rate. All you could do was hold on and await the inevitable. 

       You were whimpering and gasping and tightening around his invading digits. As you got closer and closer to the knife's edge, your speech began to slur as though you were intoxicated. It felt like you were. Dopamine and endorphins replaced the blood in your veins, an impenetrable fog pillaged the thoughts from your brain, and you were surfing the wave of a dangerous high that doused your entire body in euphoria. 

        "Ooh! Ooh fuck, yes! Please, please, please!" You cried, hands tightening upon his auburn tresses. Ardyn chuckled against your sex and only made you grind against his face even more. Your legs trembled around his head as a litany of moans filled the air. "Right fucking there! Yes! Just like that, please!" 

        So close, your body quivered. A light sheen of sweat covered every inch of your body and your slurred words devolved into a jumbled incoherent mess. Ardyn spread you wider, his fingers curled faster, harder, squelching against your aching insides. The mounting tension deep inside of you collapsed. The full force of your release punched the air right out of your lungs.

         Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as a flash of white consumed your sight. Ardyn worked you through your orgasm, rubbing your clit with his thumb and devouring your release with his tongue. You were floating, weightless in a sea of ecstasy. A parade of colors danced behind your eyelids, your senses sung a pleasant melody. You wanted to remain in that heavenly void forever, but you were soon dropped back down to earth.

         What felt beautiful and all consuming a moment before now felt disgusting and vile. Ardyn climbed up your body, your taut muscles jolted with the dregs of your release. Before you could even blink he claimed your lips. A shiver climbed down the back of your neck the moment you tasted yourself, the unmistakable musky sweet tang of a woman's ecstasy. "Good girl, so sweet for your dear uncle Ardyn." He said in between kisses. "I think you deserve a reward."

           Climbing off of you, he went to work removing his clothes. His hat was first, then his scarf, he shoved his long heavy coat down his arms and it rustled as it hit your cherry wood floors. His yellow eyes were locked onto you as you sat up on the bed. His eyes were heavy with lust but something much darker lurked under the surface, a challenge. There was no need for a verbal warning when you could read it so clearly on his face.     

       Even so, your eyes flitted towards the open bedroom door. The urge to flee was palpable. You flirted with the idea, imagined leaping off the bed and running towards your freedom. But you knew it would be a wasted effort. Ardyn would catch you, his arms would wrap around your waist and hurl you onto the bed. His punishing grip would bite into your skin and he would make you regret ever attempting to escape. 

       Grabbing your towel, you tossed it over your nakedness and hid from his hungry gaze. You balled your hand into a fist to keep it from trembling. You knew what was going to happen next. Ardyn would fully disrobe and climb on top of you, then proceed to take the very thing you gave to him over and over again in your head for years. But the real life scenario was a nightmarish contrast to what you thought would be a beautiful and loving experience. 

        The bed dipped and you were snapped out of your thoughts. A mischievous grin was on his lips as he climbed on top of you, you held the towel closer to your body, your heart slamming against your ribs. Dread churned in your stomach when Ardyn grabbed the towel and wrestled it from your tenuous grip. Once it was tossed onto the floor, you pressed your hand against his toned chest. "Ardyn…y-you don't have to do this. You could leave and we could pretend like this never happened." You said.

         "I’m afraid that won’t do. We’ve come this far, might as well see the night through." He said and your heart sunk to the darkest pit of your stomach.

         "B-but…I've…I've…never-".

          "Are you afraid?" Ardyn asked. You bit your bottom lip as tears flooded your eyes. 

          "Yes." You croaked, a single tear slid down your face. "Please don't do this." More tears cascaded down your cheeks. You didn't fight Ardyn when he pulled you into a gentle embrace. His hand rubbed soothing circles against your back, his other hand cradled your head against his shoulder, and he kissed your forehead. Your muscles relaxed in response. It was foolish, after all the horrible things he did to you tonight you still craved comfort from him. He was the one making your heart ache and yet it felt so light in this tiny fraction of time.

            A part of you hoped he would change his mind. He would put his clothes back on and spend the rest of the night comforting you and apologizing and promising never to hurt you again. You were willing to forgive him, you just wanted this nightmare to end. 

           The older man gently shushed you and wiped your tears away with his thumb. "Shhh, shhh, now, now, dearest, I won’t hurt you." He promised, he sealed the saccharine sweet promise with another kiss on your forehead. "You can do this one thing for your dear uncle Ardyn, can't you? After everything I have done for you, at least."

       You crane your neck to look up at him. "But-"

        "Haven’t I kept you safe all these years? Lent you an ear when you needed it most? Did all in my power to keep you happy?" He listed, grasping your chin with his hand. "All without asking for anything in return. Certainly you could find it in yourself to fulfill this one meager request."

        Have you really been selfish for all these years? You looked away from Ardyn and dug through your memories, certainly you've done him a kind gesture before or showed your gratitude with a gift or fulfilled a request of his. The more you searched the more you started to realize that Ardyn was right. All you did was take and take and take from him for as long as you knew him. And Ardyn never complained, he continued to look out for you and take care of you despite you never doing the same for him.

           Ardyn deserved something in return, something he wanted, but could you truly go through with this? You were dating another man and even if Gladiolus wasn't in the picture, you never imagined your first time with Ardyn going like this. You always imagined a few kisses being exchanged first. He would sweep you off your feet with gifts and thoughtful dates, and he would confess his undying love for you before claiming you as his own. You twiddle your thumbs in your lap. 

         But you supposed Ardyn did do some of those things, he always showered you with gifts and would frequently take you out. Before it was to the circus but now it's to other towns, to restaurants and tourist attractions you've never seen before. He kissed you on the lips many times tonight, and if you count the last four years, he has kissed you on your forehead more times than you could count. The only requirement left unfulfilled was the admission of love, but the other two had been fulfilled a long time ago. After everything he did for you over the years, it would be unfair for you to deny him the only request he had ever given you.

         Despite knowing this, you still weren't ready. Will Ardyn hurt you if you deny him? He seemed to be in an amicable mood right now, perhaps he would be receptive to a hint of your apprehension and not an outright refusal. Maybe he would choose to postpone this night and give you time to think. With a heavy sigh, you looked up into his yellow eyes. You were still in his embrace, his strong toned arms felt warm and safe wrapped around you. "It'll hurt." You whispered.

      "A moment of pain in exchange for a night of bliss." Ardyn responded. He shifted your weight so you would lay against the bed. You tried to calm your beating heart when he laid on top of you, his hips between your legs. His member was hot and hard and pressed against your naked sex.

          He rocked his hips against yours, his shaft parted your slick folds and nudged your clit as it ground against you. You could hear the wet click of skin against skin as he teased the both of you. Your heart was slowly climbing up your throat but you tried to breath through the sudden wave of panic. 

          Ardyn must've seen the fear in your eyes since he gave you a soft lingering kiss and brushed his knuckles against your cheek. "Just relax. Haven’t I always known best?"