#yandere flaky

[sweetybaty]

Doodles Soldier bOY

[yannysif]

Sooo I know I disappeared for a bit again, but this time I was basically doing my own shonen protagonist training arc - been consuming a TON of tutorials and practicing in general, only a few of them are even remotely worth sharing, like this one! I'm not very happy with it, but at the same time, I put in too much effort to let it go to waste so I thought, why not attach a drabble with this because I need to practice my writing alongside my art too..

And so here's a short story of sorts that would take place in the prologue (it won't be exactly like this in-game since I'll have choices and variations to incorporate) hope you enjoy!

"Would you like to dance?"

You look at Lucien as if he's grown an extra head, as he extends his hand to you, waiting. The two of you were taking a stroll in his gardens after dinner, and you were in-between feeling at peace in the environment, and incredibly nervous as you were walking alongside Lucien Lockhart, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he was no longer just your favorite character beyond a screen, he was living, breathing, right next to you, you.

You were quietly taking in the foliage under the moonlight, reveling in the novelty of it, never having had the chance to see such a gorgeous garden at night (but really, everything was new when you were in an entirely different world) when he sprung the question on you.

You could feel his quiet amusement to your reaction, as you stare holes into the palm of his hand, wondering if it was worth taking it, to risk making a completely fool out of yourself in the process, in front of him, and so soon after meeting him? No, you couldn't-

"You are always welcome to say no, please don't feel pressured to do anything you don't want to."

Doesn't that just lay on the pressure even more!? But as you look at him and his gentle expression, like you could do no wrong, it felt easier to go along with it. And the moment you placed your hand in his, you felt it was the right choice seeing his face light up from that action alone.

He gently pulls you into position, one hand still holding yours, the other on your waist. He looked for all the world, content, as if it was enough for him just to hold you, have you near. He gives you one last questioning look, silently asking if it's alright to keep going. You can't back out now; you give him a nod, not trusting your voice.

It took all of 2 seconds to step on his foot. Oh this was a terrible idea what were you thinking-

You were brought out of your down-spiral by the sound of your name, prompting you to look up, at his face, his ever present smile when he's near you, immediately providing you with reassurance.

"Don't overthink it, just trust me."

Trust him.

Wasn't that a lot to ask from someone who's practically a stranger? But then again, maybe you weren't. After all, the two of you knew about the other this whole time, when you assumed it was a one-way street. In fact, you think he knows you better (knows you well, too well) than most of the people in your life. You could see it in all the little considerations he made for you in your short time together.

So you couldn't help but want to trust him.

You take a deep breath to ground yourself, and as you do, you could hear music drifting in the air, faint, but present. It was from the musicians Lucien had hired to play during dinner (to welcome you, he explained, when you said it was a bit too much fanfare for someone like you. He promises the next dinner onward would be simpler, for you. You couldn't help but feel a little wonder, at the assured promise of future dinners spent together, like it was only natural.)

So they were still playing, you hadn't noticed from your nervousness, but it made it feel a little less awkward to have some music to dance to.

You set your shoulders, resolute, as you gaze back at Lucien. He gives you a knowing smile, and begins to move again.

Trust him.

And so you do. You let yourself loosen up, trusting him to lead, to go where he pushed and pulled. It takes a moment, but soon the two of you fall into a rhythm, dancing to the music, and soon everything else fell away. You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips; you were doing it, you were dancing! And when Lucien smiles back at you, eyes filled with nothing but pride and admiration for you, you could feel happiness swell from within you.

"I'm going to spin you, ok?"

The next moment, he gently pulls your arm up and leads you in a twirl, and you couldn't help but feel a little silly(a little giddy) as you enact a scene you could only imagine before.

"Once more"

That was all the warning you get when this time, he lets go of your hand to instead place both on your waist. You couldn't help the gasp ripped out of you when he lifts you for a spin, impossibly stronger than he appeared, but soon devolved into delighted laughter as you grab his shoulders, weightless in the air.

You've never felt freer than you did at this moment.

[qierxing]

Head empty just yandere Heartslabyul as your imperial harem members

yan!poly!Heartslabyul x Reader

tw/cw: dub//con, gender-neutral reader but referred with masculine terms, drugging, manipulation, implied somnophilia, political machinations

—

you were raised with the expectation that you would shoulder the crown and rule over your people, justly and fairly. because of that, by the time you were crowned, your mindset compared to others your age was mature beyond what was considered normal.

you would be lying if you weren't bitter. Although you've long accepted that no one else could be trusted to rule this land and its people, you often wondered what your life would be like if there were no etiquette lessons and sword practices consuming your childhood.

In the end, it's all foolish dreams. You sit on your glittering golden throne and watch apathetically as the imperial court cheers and raises a toast to the new royal blood.

You were prepared for the responsibilities of a monarch, but what you weren't prepared for was your vassals' obnoxious nagging.

Your kingdom's tradition and laws have long allowed for polygamy, and your previous ancestors were known for their large harems. That day, you finally learned why: to ensure that royal blood would still be carried on, no matter what.

it's distasteful to you. you try to ignore your vassals all talking your ears off about potential consorts and lovers. but it's only so long before you crack.

Riddle Rosehearts was the first one to be by your side.

Not by choice. Duchess Rosehearts was the one who brought up her darling son to your vassals first, who then presented him to you. You would've turned them away, if not for the boy's eyes. Something in those stormy gray eyes makes your heart ache. His mother clutches her son's shoulder in a vice like grip that goes far beyond parental worry. Perhaps he too knows what it feels like to have no control over his life. 

And so reluctantly, you let him join you as a consort. 

It's not bad. Rather, he's so intelligent and diligent that you often ask him for help and advice on the kingdom's affairs, knowing that his strictness with himself and others provides a valuable impartial view that you can hardly find anywhere else. Besides, even if he is too stiff and formal at times, you appreciate his aid in paperwork that threatens to drown you.

in fact, he's so dedicated to carrying out his duty, that you find him nearly unrobed on your bed. Seven above, that nearly gave you heart palpitations. As attractive as he is, you have no intention of forcing the boy to give up his virginity against his will, even if he is married to you. 

you explain this to him as patiently as you can, even when his face scrunches up in hurt and confusion, asking if he wasn't enough–but you shut that down immediately. He is more than enough, and he isn't obligated to do anything he doesn't want to, even if his mother taught him otherwise. the revelation shakes his mind, causing his walls and views to crumble before him in the following days. you would like to think he became less stiff as he realized his true worth.

That is when an unexpected addition to your harem happened.

Actually, it was completely by accident. Your servants had often brought you various snacks and sweets during your work, as you were infamous for being extremely cranky without the motivation of good food. When Riddle, of all people, brings you a strawberry tart while you’re in the middle of some particularly grueling financial budget papers, it gives you pause.

It's not that you didn't trust him. It’s just…this is the boy who refused to eat more than the healthy amount of sugar. Even if you offered him various pastries and cookies, he always shunned them, saying it wouldn’t be right for him to consume them. 

So you spear a fork into the tart and bring it up to your mouth. When the bite meets your tongue, you swear your soul ascends to heaven. The taste is absolutely indescribable: the crust was flaky and light and the filling was sweet and creamy. This has got to be the best dessert you’ve ever tasted in your short life.

When you inquire Riddle about where he had gotten his hands on the tart, he shyly looks away from you and mumbles something under his breath. Not wanting to pressure him, you decide to let it go with a request to send your highest compliments to the patisserie. 

Since then, he is the one bringing you various treats, all unbelievably delicious tasting, each time you’re stuck among paperwork and meetings. You’re grateful, even if it does make you wonder who this mysterious patisserie is. You’re not particularly familiar with every kitchen staff member, but you would think that you would be aware of such talent residing in your walls. 

The truth finally comes to light when Riddle bursts into your office one day, in tears and hyperventilating, as he collapses in your arms. Alarmed, you quickly try to make sense of his babbling words. 

It turns out that the very patisserie wasn’t in your kitchens, as you thought. No, they were humble commoner folk who ran a modest bakery in the shopping district. Riddle had been secretly visiting the bakery whenever he had the time to buy their desserts and to visit his friend, the owner’s son. Problem is, his mother had found out and was furious that her son would debase himself and his reputation like that.

Trey Clover stands behind his parents with wide, frightened eyes as Duchess Rosehearts shrieks on about how she’ll shut down the establishment herself for daring to corrupt her son and so forth. It’s rather annoying that she would go this far in the name of parental love–thankfully she stops screaming once she catches sight of you. 

For once, you’re thankful for the absolute authority of imperial power. Duchess Rosehearts begrudgingly draws back when you block her attempt to defame the bakery. With a disappointed glare searing over the rest of you, she storms out of the bakery, door slamming shut behind her with a deafening crack.

You watch with mild interest as Riddle rushes forward and envelopes Trey in a tight hug that nearly knocks the tall man over. Despite the fact that Trey should be the one more distraught, he comforts Riddle with an ease that is almost suspiciously, dare you say, reminiscent of fondness. You look away before your thoughts dwell on it for too long.

Of course, it’s not all over. Trey’s parents kowtow at your feet with desperate gratitude, even if you beg them to stand up and raise their heads. As you glance over at Riddle in Trey’s arms, thoughts begin to arrange themselves into a proposal.

You and Riddle both know that Duchess Rosehearts would not stop here. Your presence was only a mere temporary hurdle in her plans to bring down Clover Patisserie, and there was no telling what she would do next. So, you propose something nearly unheard of to them.

Your vassals will throw an absolute fit if you openly sponsor their bakery and provide protection without something in exchange. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but this is the only way that Trey and his family would be safe. 

Surprisingly, he accepts the proposal with grace, becoming the second consort of your harem that very day. 

He inquires if there’s anything he should be aware of for his duties, making you laugh raucously and Riddle blush to the roots of his strawberry hair. You wave him off, telling him he only needs to do the things he loves and to bring you more of those tarts that cured your stress during your work times. The smile he gives is radiant and you wonder how it is that Riddle managed to find someone who makes the sun pale in comparison.

The next day, Riddle tells you between paperwork that he gifted Trey his own kitchen to bake and cook, and you nod in approval. It’s too easy to tease him over his obvious favoritism toward the baker, and it only makes you want to bully him more when his face becomes tomato red.

The annual royal banquet comes up and it dawns on both you and Riddle that Trey will have to present himself to the feral noble masses who are itching to know who this new addition is. The three of you are thrown into a hurricane of preparations, not just for the banquet, but to prepare poor Trey, who has never attended such an elite event, for the troubles ahead.

It’s certainly not for naught, you think, as you rake your eyes over your consorts. Their beauty outshines everything, in your personal opinion. When you make the introductory speech, you’re well aware that the audience in front of you is not just dazzled by you, but rather the two handsome men dutifully hovering behind you.

You hope that Riddle is enough of a buffer when the nobles inevitably swarm them with excited and curious eyes. As much as you would like to help, you were stuck with your own battles of greeting various guests and entertaining those who were trying to butter you up.

The Diamond family catches your eye first. 

It wasn't something positive, per say. But it is quite hilarious as the Marquis introduces you to his family: his wife, his two elder daughters and his only heir and son–only to find the aforementioned son missing. He’s left stuttering in shame even if you don’t particularly mind. It would’ve just been another boring greeting, but at that moment, his eyes dilates in fear, and when you follow his gaze, you see why. 

Cater Diamond is currently flirting with Trey. And very openly, at that.

The sight should make you furious, and yet you nearly burst out laughing. How could there be anyone this daring? Surely the young man would know better than to try hitting on an imperial escort–if he was aware that is, of the man being one. 

You decide to be the merciful mediator, because Riddle is nearly about to blow a gasket by Trey’s side and Trey looks like he’s too flustered to appropriately reject the advances of the eldest Diamond son. 

“Lord Diamond, I do believe your father is looking for you.” His face is full of surprise at the image of you grinning at him in amusement when you gently break the awkward atmosphere. 

After he leaves in a hurry, your two consorts apologize profusely for letting the flirtations happen. You reassure them that it was fine, that whatever they liked to do was not meant to be dictated under your actions. However, their faces still remain guilty and dismayed, as though you had reprimanded them instead.

The encounter remains in your mind as an entertaining memory. So much so, that when your vassals pester you again on adding another member to your harem, your mind immediately goes to sparkling jade green eyes and vivid orange hair.

If anything it was on a whim. Of course, you consulted both Trey and Riddle before sending the invitation, and they both agreed, even if Riddle looked much grumpier than usual. You hardly believed that the proposal would be answered favorably; after all, you’ve learned from recent gossip that Cater Diamond was a rather well known playboy. You doubt that kind of man would enjoy being tied to an imperial harem, even if it was under your lax control.

Perhaps that is why it’s so surprising that when he finally is in front of you, he acquiesces to your proposal with no hesitation at all. You ask in disbelief if he was sure of his decision, and he affirms it with no distaste in his voice. He notes your incredulous face, giving a cheeky grin in response.

Apparently he's been wanting to separate himself from his family for a while. The reason for his scandalous affairs were only attempts at getting his family to send him away, but he never succeeded. He says that your proposition finally gave him the freedom to be away from his family. While you don't want to pry further, it confuses you on how the Diamond family managed to raise such an eccentric young man.

Regardless, he becomes the third member of your harem. There were some small tensions between him and Riddle, but thankfully they resolved rather quicker than you expected–it seems that although Cater acted rather laid back, he has skills in organization and networking that even Riddle had to begrudgingly acknowledge. Ask him on the most recent gossip on the nobles and he's sure to provide you a list alphabetized on the latest trends around the capitol. Besides, it seems him and Trey get along quite well—too well, in a way. You don’t think you’ve seen a pair more prone to exchanging sensual, fleeting touches. Well, that’s not your problem.

You pray that nothing more eventful comes up in the meantime. Trey could only supply you with so much cake and cookies before you simply keeled over from sugar intake.

It seems the Seven were not on your side.

The Knights' jousting tournament was something that slipped your mind. When it gets brought up on the agenda in a meeting you silently curse. In the racket of you ascending to the throne and tending to your harem, you had neglected a big aspect to your royal life.

Personal guards. Normally, you should've had personally assigned soldiers that would accompany you for protection, but you've kept putting it off since you were able to protect yourself just fine with your abilities. And hiring new people, for any reason, was always going to be a long chore of vetting, paperwork, and tests.

The worst part is that Riddle and Trey joined in on the nagging. Going on about how they worried for your safety as if you weren't already trained in self defense and swordplay since your childhood days. Cater just shrugs when you look at him desperately for help and winks while running off to who knows where. Traitor.

Whatever. The sooner you pick, the sooner they'll get off your back.

Somehow this year's tournament is rather disappointing. Your three consorts give commentary throughout the matches, but it cannot stop the boredom starting to overtake you. Trey discreetly offers you a cup of wine and you take it gratefully.

The announcer signals the start of a match, with Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade taking a stand against each other. You hear Riddle faintly murmuring to your side about how they look rather young to be in a tournament like this. But you're rather absorbed in their intense fight, to the point where Cater teases you, asking if your taste included younger men. you roll your eyes and tell him to be quiet.

The fight ends in a spine tingling draw. Both men have their swords knocked out of their hands, but they’re still glaring at each other with such raw passion, that it’s fascinating. You know you will hardly meet any others that could catch your attention.

The end of the tournament ends with the roar of the crowd shaking the colosseum and the boisterous victory announcement. The two of them weren’t finalists, but that matters little to you. The victor was impressive. But they weren’t what you wanted.

“Ace Trappola, at your service, your majesty.”

“Deuce Spade, at your command, your majesty!”

The two greet you with enthusiastic fervor that has you chuckling in amusement. They are just the breath of fresh air you need. 

“Starting from today, you two will be my personal guards.”

They’re left with gaping mouths at your bold statement. Your consorts, too, are sputtering at your side. Riddle is already trying to convince you to reconsider. Trey is gently trying to ask if you’re really sure about this. Even Cater, for all his light-hearted banter, chokes an incredulous scoff, covering his mouth with a fist.

Yes, there’s always the threat of treason, and they might be slackers, but if you were going to have to employ someone, you’d rather it be someone entertaining. 

Regardless, the two are knighted and become your guards in record time. 

For several days, a persistent headache haunts you with how much Ace loved riling up Riddle for no reason, or Deuce somehow managing to blunder his way into destroying several pieces of priceless antique furniture. It takes only two days for Riddle to kneel at your side, begging you to please just switch guards, these two were ridiculously incompetent and not worthy to serve under you, but you only pat his head and send him off back to his chambers to rest. 

Trey and Cater were arguably more agreeable, but you don’t miss their tired looks whenever they had to clean up after Ace pissing off a passing noble or Deuce somehow causing a fire when tripping over an iron poker. It makes you feel guilty, of course, but you still cling on. Call it stubbornness but you didn’t want to let go of the two. It was selfish, you know, and monarchs could never afford to be selfish, but was it so wrong for you to indulge in the only pair who seemed to disregard your status?

The answer came one hot summer evening, when you’re on your balcony trying to unwind. Tonight was the usual designated night to share a bed with your consorts, but you deigned to postpone it since you weren’t in the mood nor did you want to force the other three to deal with your sour attitude. It’s halfway through your third glass of wine that you were a rustle, then after starting your fourth, you hear footsteps, to which you turn and just narrowly miss a dagger aiming for your heart. The blade instead rips a gash through your left shoulder, causing you to grunt in pain, alcohol thankfully dulling most of the throbbing sensations. Unfortunately, your mind is hardly clear enough to have a steady stance to fight back properly, let alone see the assassin’s face. 

You can’t believe you were going to die pathetically like this. If this was going to happen anyway, you should’ve at least finished your glass of wine—

Shouts, then sounds of clanging steel, and a blur rushed into your sight, tackling the hooded assassin and knocking him down. Deuce’s familiar blue hair registers in your blurry vision, holding down the assassin, while Ace’s flaming hair and eyes come closer in view, shouting something that keeps fizzling out to nothing. Your world tilts to its side suddenly, a loud buzzing in your ears, and everything goes black.

When you come to, you find Riddle with swollen, tear-crusted eyes hugging your bedsheets, while Trey exhaustedly sits behind him next to a wash basin and several empty vials. Cater was out cold on the chaise beside him, several papers littering his body. It seems that the assassin was quite thorough, as they made sure that if their sharp blade didn’t manage to end your life, then the quick acting poison laced upon the steel would. Ironically, according to the herbalist and doctor, because you drank a whole wine bottle, the alcohol managed to slow it down somehow just long enough for you to get treatment. A miracle, indeed.

For once, the room is no longer filled with tension with all five of the men together, but a genuine sense of relief. You give the two of your knights soft smiles and a sincere thank you which makes their faces flush like a ripe strawberry. Your escorts don’t protest, mirroring the same gratefulness in their faces. 

Something changes after that night. 

Of course, you’re extremely glad that Riddle is no longer blowing his top off after Ace goads him about being a stick in the mud, but since when did Ace get into pet names with Riddle? Rosebud? The nickname makes you gag internally at how corny it is. Not to mention that Riddle…doesn’t mind being called that?! You watch in disbelief as he preens at the compliment from your knight, trying not to give away your incredulousness. 

Okay…whatever, at least they’re getting along? 

Deuce shows up with your slice of cake with a beaming glow that has you taken aback as you accept the offering. Ace mutters about how Trey must’ve spoiled him again behind you and it takes everything inside you to not spit out your cake mid-bite. Again? Trey was kind, you’ll give him that, and he did tend to baby Riddle and you but—

On second thought, perhaps this wasn’t out of left field.

Cater titters knowingly when you slump in bonelessly into the lounge next to him trying on new earrings and bangles. 

“And what ails my dearly beloved king?” You choke on your spit before glaring at him. He giggles, dangly silver drops chiming in tune with the laughter. 

“Not you too…” It felt like the whole day you felt like you were background to some of the most insufferable flirting, and with your escorts and knights, no less. You raise an eyebrow at the shiny, glittering jewelry scattered on the vanity in front of the man. All imperial escorts did have an allowance, but you don’t remember Cater buying anything like this nor gifting him such things. When you inquire about it, Cater gives you a smirk and a wink.

”Rido and the younger ones have been quite sweet lately.” The sentence makes you nearly fall off the lounge. He chortles and blows you a mock kiss with no shame as you sear him with another heated glare. 

The way they started interacting starts making you feel self-conscious and…embarrassingly enough, left out. Which is such a foolish thought. Of course, who would in their right mind love the person who tied their lives to them, romantically and sexually? And even though they were in such a situation, the fact they all loved each other was a blessing, wasn’t it? How many history lessons did you have where the monarch’s harem wasn’t full of in-fighting? That meant more prosperity and stability political wise, and there wouldn’t be any trouble between you…

Yet, your heart clenches at the thought of Trey’s smile directed at Cater, of Riddle gently caressing Deuce’s head, and Ace slinging an arm around Deuce…none of that affection could ever be for you. 

And it’s best that way. Your father’s voice echoes distantly in your mind. You watched him solemnly on his deathbed as he implored you to not make the same mistakes he did, before his breathing stilled, and his hand lay limp in yours.

Yes, perhaps it was better this way. 

Still, your thoughts are still wandering that you barely jolt back to present to a cabinet meeting looking expectantly at you. 

“Pardon, could you repeat that?”

Riddle watches in worry as a dark shadow crosses your face as the demand for your harem to grow is conveyed. He coughs, causing the members to turn to him instead.

”If that’s the case,” he states with no hesitation, “then I might have some candidates in mind.”

You turn to him with the same expression as the other cabinet members. It drops to shock at Riddle’s suggestion.

As much as you wanted to oppose it, there wasn’t really a good reason to. You sat with your arms crossed as Riddle explained the proposal to your very two personal knights. Ace and Deuce exchange looks, and something between them is communicated before they turn to you and accept, despite your hope they wouldn’t.

And so, your harem became five.

You put your foot down after that. It was already enough to have your heart cracked into pieces with the knowledge you could never have their love. You don’t think it could handle another.

So you tuck your heart away as you smile with them over dinner, bantering over whether flamingos can play croquet or dancing with them at various balls, heart racing as the chandelier lit their face with a warmth you’ve never seen before. If it means you won’t get hurt or distracted, then that’s all you could ask for.

One fateful day, a letter out of numerous piles is hand delivered by Cater and changes your entire world.

It’s sealed with the crest of the fairest queen in the seven realms, meaning only one person could have sent this—Vil Schoenheit. Inside the elegant letter details a marriage proposal that listed all the benefits of taking him as a spouse. With all the pros listed out so cleanly, it was clear that the queen already knew that you couldn’t reject it so quickly.

But you must dissolve your harem. I do not take kindly to those who are not loyal to me and me only.

Something in your heart cracks at reading the condition. You should feel elated, somewhat, that you no longer had to drag around escorts for formality. And for the others, it meant being freed from a duty they were all forced into. But tears threaten to bubble over your eyelashes, and when Riddle asks you if you’re alright, one manages to overflow and trail down your cheek like a traitorous banner. 

You don’t want to let them go.

Trey asks for the nth time if you’re sure you don’t want him to be with you or if you want some tea before you shoo him away. Ace and Deuce were meant to guard your chambers, but you wave them off too, saying you’ll find stand-ins for their places. Riddle and Cater were harder to shake off, but even they, too, were finally shut out when you closed your bedroom doors in their worried faces.

In the end, like a coward, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them what that letter was, despite them asking nonstop about it. You’re not sure what to tell them either—that they were being discarded of their positions, no longer needed, but it wasn’t out of maliciousness—oh, who would even believe you?

When Vil graces your halls, the looks your escorts give you is enough to fill you with burning hot shame. 

Cater doesn’t have his usual mischievous smile when he greets the queen, his emerald eyes sharpening to pin pricks whenever Vil speaks. You should’ve scolded him, reigned him back, but the guilt eating away at you made you hesitate. It didn’t help that Riddle, for all his perfect etiquette, suddenly seemed to forget what formalities and niceties were around the queen. The regal queen gives you a strange look as Trey sets down a plate of pastries a little too hard in front of him. Your gaze darts away as you sip the tea in front of you nervously, flanked by Ace and Deuce, their scowling faces too apparent.

They’re not dumb. Royals don’t visit other realms willy-nilly often. And it’s clear what Vil is here for.

The next day leaves you lethargic and sluggish, but you try to pull through, if only for appearances. While you stroll through the gardens with Vil, you try to avoid the burning stares of your guards behind you, no doubt dissecting each and every bit of your conversation with the queen. They pull you away as soon as the clock hits the afternoon hour, stating you had duties to attend to and so on and so forth. You excuse yourself and hope you don’t look like a mess to Vil, whose appearance is still immaculate despite the heavy winds and hot sun.

You try to focus on the stack of papers in front of you, despite the edges of your vision blurring and your head spinning. Taking the last sip of what remained of your tea, you squint uselessly at the words as Riddle murmurs something to your right about dinner and farewell banquets. The last thing you remember is the smell of chamomile and poppy flowers and the last document regarding international treaties. 

By the time you wake up from your ill-timed nap, it was midnight and it had been decided that you were too unwell to properly receive the fairest queen, and thus Vil would be sent back, to come back another time. Cater explains with a tight smile while Riddle nods along. Behind them, Trey pours another cup of warm milk and offers it to you with a sympathetic smile. You take it, despite the guilt threatening to swallow you alive. 

The days following are a haze of routines that you thought you once knew but couldn’t process. Nothing had changed, right? It seemed like you couldn’t recall what Trey made for you for yesterday’s tea, nor whenever Cater asked you for an opinion on his outfit. Before, you remembered the guards’ shifts to the letter, and yet, you completely forgot when Ace took over to guard you. Riddle smiles at you like usual, helping you with paperwork as usual, and yet…why couldn’t you remember what you had signed yourself?

Some nights you wake up to Trey or Cater, running their hands over you, despite the fact that they weren’t there before when you went to bed. Sometimes, it would be Ace and Deuce, bickering in hushed whispers before they shut up seeing you awake. And every time morning came and soreness set in your body, Riddle would greet your groggy face warmly, wiping away sweat and a strange stickiness that clung to your skin. 

The thought of marriage is erased from your mind, and slowly, but surely, you can’t remember why you thought of breaking apart the men who treated you so fondly. 

Perhaps you should have heeded the tales of those who ended up being puppet kings.

[theyanderespecialist]

Yandere Alastor X Pregnant Reader (Headcanons) Alastor's Baby Mama (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another update! This one is with Alastor being yandere for his pregnant listener, and headcanons he would be like in this situation, anyways I hope you all enjoy this chapter here, all my sexy muffins!]

(Disclaimer: Alastor is Not Yandere In Canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE YOU FLAKY BISCUITS! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon, thank you!!!)

-Yandere Headcanons With Alastor X Pregnant Listener from Hazbin Hotel-

.Alastor would not be the best dad, in canon Viv has said he would not be against smacking around his kids (REMEMBER HE WAS IN HIS 30s IN THE 1930s HE IS BEYOND BOOMER) 

.He would of course raise his child that was defenseless and needed him. 

.But if his child who is able to "take care" of himself were to get hurt he would find it a bit funny (like in America funniest home videos) 

.Of course, that is when the kids are kids, but what about his pregnant wife? 

.Alastor is Asexual and in hell and thought he could not have kids. 

.Somehow in one of the times he made love to you his partner you had got pregnant. 

.He was a bit in shock, his microphone putting out radio static and him going "Say what now?" 

.How did it happen, why did it happen? 

.Of course, he is yandere for you and would very much want to take it to the next step with you. 

.So if you are not married to him at this point he will propose as he is doing the right thing and will make an honest woman out out of you. 

.Also with his old-time mind set he would say. "I am not going to let my child be a bastard." (Born out of Wedlock) 

.He is not giving you a choice, you are going to be his wife and bound to him, so yeah, good luck with that, lmao. 

.He becomes even more protective of you, realizing that now that you are pregnant you have a target on your back from all his enemies. 

.So he would steal you away and keep you by his side, If you want to leave the hotel, then you will have to be with him and maybe even husk. 

.If not you will be in the hotel and Husk and Niffty will be keeping a close eye on you. 

.He would even reel Charlie and Vaggie into this and use them to keep you safe and sound as well. 

.You are a prisoner to your husband and he is keeping you in this gilded cage. 

.He would of course give you everything you want and need. Except for your freedom of course. 

.Why would you need freedom when you have him, and your future children? 

.He is 1000 percent the type of man who wants his wife at home, pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen. 

.He at first did not want kids but seeing you pregnant has flipped something in him. 

.It mainly has to do with his narcissistic traits, as he will see this child as an extension of himself and their accomplishments will be his as well. 

.So that is nice, but also his yandere side likes seeing you swell with his seed. 

.That pregnant belly, widening hips, and full breasts are signs that you are with HIS Child, that HIS seed has done something to you. 

.This makes him excited in more ways than one because it is a way he can control and manipulate you, and keep you by his side. 

.But it also puts him in la mood because it shows him that you are his and his alone! 

.That you being full with his child is proof you belong to him the radio demon. 

.He would still deal with rivals by killing them and broadcasting their screams across hell. 

.He would be fiercely overprotective possessive and jealous. 

.NO ONE ELSE CAN touch the belly bump, that is HIS Belly bump. 

.He also sleeps with you in his arms a lot now, if you somehow get out of them to get a glass of water and he wakes up without you there. 

.He will appear behind you, snatch you, and teleport through shadows back to the room, place you back in bed where you belong. 

.No midnight snacking for you, unless you ask him first. 

.He is very attentive to all your needs when pregnant and also is a bit more in the mood sex. 

(as asexual can be aroused and horny and have a high libido and CHOOSE To have sex, Asexuality is about Lack of Sexual Attraction NOT The Lack of the Act of Sex itself) 

.So when you get to the want to have sex stage of the pregnancy he is more than willing to satisfy your needs. 

.You have unlocked a beastly side of Alastor good luck. 

.Oh and 1 million percent he would feed you venison and other demon meats while pregnant. 

.He wants to make sure you have a very healthy cannibal diet for you and his spawn. 

.He takes care of you at least, but he does need to be taught more modern ways on raising a child FR FR. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy all of my sexy muffins!] 

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 6

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, needles

There was a knock on the door. The sound was sharp and sudden, shattering the stillness that filled the bedroom.

From her perch in a high-backed chair near the crackling fireplace, Lady Dimitrescu lifted her gaze, her cold, golden eyes narrowing in annoyance behind her dark lashes. Her attention had previously been focused on various documents meticulously arranged on the coffee table, papers filled with finely penned notes and small diagrams.

“Enter.” She commanded.

Sofia stepped in, carefully balancing a silver tray filled with an assortment of breakfast items.

"Set it on the nightstand."

"Yes, my Lady." Sofia responded immediately.

Lady Dimitrescu's eyes followed Sofia's movements, observing every detail with an air of detachment.

As she made her way across the bedroom, Sofia's eyes widened in surprise upon noticing your presence. However, she quickly composed herself, seamlessly slipping back into her professional role as she set the tray on the nightstand beside you.

The tray held an array of delicacies that seemed almost too perfect: golden, freshly baked croissants glistening with a hint of butter, promising warmth and flakiness with each bite. Next to them, a colorful selection of ripe, juicy fruits beckoned, their sweet aroma mingling in the air, and completing the ensemble was a crystal-clear glass of water.

Dread churned in your stomach at the sight of the glass. Your mind involuntarily replayed the memory in excruciating detail: the subtle bitterness that tainted the water, the slow, creeping numbness that spread throughout your body, and through it all, you remembered the smug satisfaction in Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes as you succumbed to the sedative.

Your eyes flickered to Sofia, who stood nearby, gazing at you with barely concealed concern. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress, betraying her nervousness, and her lips were pressed into a thin, tense line. Her eyes darted between you and Lady Dimitrescu, reflecting a mixture of apprehension and sympathy. Your eyes silently pleaded with Sofia to help you in some way, but you knew she couldn’t do anything. She was as much a prisoner of this situation as you were.

“You may leave.” Lady Dimitrescu said dismissively.

Sofia curtsied and swiftly exited the bedroom. The sound of the door closing behind her felt like a finality, sealing you in alone with the Lady again.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a low sigh – the sound heavy with a mix of weariness and restrained impatience – as she set the documents aside.

“Alright, darling, it’s time for you to eat.” She murmured.

Rising gracefully from her chair, she moved with a regal poise as she made her way over to you. As she reached your side, she bent over at the hip, her hands sliding under your back to gently but firmly prop you up against the plush pillows. She arranged you as if you were a fragile doll in need of careful handling. Taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, Lady Dimitrescu reached out for the croissant resting on the plate and brought it to your lips, her gaze fixed on your face expectantly.

You pressed your lips together and turned your head away, your body instinctively recoiling from the food in front of you. Doubt gnawed at your mind, and you couldn't shake the suspicion that something had been done to the food, if it had been pilled out or tampered with in some way.

“It’s okay. I’m not that hungry.” You said softly, the words almost a whisper amongst the silence that followed.

The air seemed to thicken with each passing moment, the weight of Lady Dimitrescu's gaze intensifying as she observed you. You kept your gaze averted, unable to meet her eyes.

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “I understand your reluctance, darling, but you must eat something.”

The flicker of defiance in your eyes did not escape her notice, so she adjusted her posture slightly, leaning in with a subtle yet palpable authority. You curled more into yourself, trying to shrink away from her penetrating gaze, but she remained steadfast, her eyes fixed on you. The air around you began to crackle with tension. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the intensity of her stare growing sharper. The smirk on her face transformed into a thin, dangerous smile, one that instinctively signaled danger.

“That wasn’t a request,” she continued smoothly. “If you won’t eat, I'll force it down your throat.”

The menace in her tone sent a shiver down your spine, the words hanging in the air like a dark promise. Lady Dimitrescu’s smile widened, but it held no warmth. She moved closer, her presence looming over you like a dark cloud.

“You will eat, whether you like it or not.” She whispered, her voice low and threatening.

A rush of fear and adrenaline coursed through you, quickening your pulse. The memory of the bitter, medicinal taste from before flashed through your mind, and the thought of being drugged again, or worse, made your stomach churn. You knew you couldn't trust her, couldn't allow yourself to be at her mercy even more, especially not after what happened last night. At that moment, consequences mattered little; a surge of defiance rose within you, and you straightened up, shoulders squared, meeting her cool gaze with as much courage as you could muster.

“I won't.” You replied, your voice steadier now, though your hands trembled at your sides.

For a moment, there was only silence, broken by the sound of your own ragged breathing. Then, without warning, she lunged forward, grabbing your jaw with a grip like iron. Her fingers dug into your skin, forcing your head up to meet her gaze. Her eyes blazed with fury, a cold, unyielding anger. Her face was an inch away from yours, her breath hot and wild against your skin, carrying the faint scent of wine and something metallic.

“Open your mouth!” Lady Dimitrescu demanded.

Fear and anger battled inside of you, but you refused to back down. Gathering every ounce of your strength, you pushed against her, trying to break free from her grasp. Your muscles strained as you fought to break loose. Your breaths came in short, sharp bursts, yet, with each futile struggle, her grip remained firm, a silent reminder of her sheer strength and control.

Lady Dimitrescu growled, a low, menacing sound. Her grip tightened, her thumb and forefinger like steel vices pressing into the pressure points underneath your jaw, sending a sharp pain shooting through your nerves. You felt your mouth being forced open against your will, the muscles straining and twitching against the force she applied.

She then stuffed a piece of the croissant into your mouth and squeezed it close. The fresh, dry texture of the pastry crumbled against your tongue, and you could taste the buttery residue left on it.

“I won’t let go until I see you swallow that piece.” Lady Dimitrescu hissed through her teeth.

You glared up at her through angry tears. They stung your eyes and traced burning paths down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your mouth. Yet, she continued to gaze down at you, unmoved by your protest. She arched an eyebrow, a silent challenge in her gaze, as if daring you to defy her further. The ache around your jaw increased, a persistent throb that radiated through your temples, causing your head to pound with each pulse. You balled up your fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms in a futile attempt to redirect the discomfort away from your jaw.

A condescending smile broke across Lady Dimitrescu’s lips, transforming her stern expression into one of mocking amusement. She chuckled darkly, the sound low and cold, “I can assure you, pet,” she said in a patronizing tone, “Neither the food nor the drink is laced with any sort of drug. Now, stop behaving like a little brat and eat.”

The dismissive way she spoke to you, as if you were nothing more than an unruly child, made your blood boil, intensifying the throbbing pain in your jaw and the burning fury in your chest. Unfortunately, you knew in the back of your mind that she would not let up. It was like fighting a losing battle.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you forced yourself to start chewing the pastry. Its soft, buttery taste mingled with the bitter bile rising in your throat. Each bite felt like a battle against the rising nausea, your jaw moving mechanically as she watched you eat, her eyes never leaving your face. Swallowing became a challenge against the hard lump in your throat, each gulp feeling like conceding defeat.

Lady Dimitrescu's smirk deepened, her eyes glinting in pleasure as you did what you were told. She released her grip on your jaw, and the pain instantly lessened, leaving a lingering soreness in its wake.

“Now, was that so hard?” Lady Dimitrescu asked mockingly.

She turned her attention back to the tray. Her long fingers reached for the glass of water beside her, and you clenched your teeth, resisting the urge to react. Golden eyes peered at you once more, narrowing slightly.

“Do not test my patience, pet. I won't be as nice about it as before.” She warned coolly.

With a resigned sigh, you allowed her to bring the glass to your lips. You took a small, cautious sip, feeling the liquid slide down your throat, soothing your parched mouth but doing little to ease the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

You waited for a moment, preparing for the worst, but nothing came.

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled at your guarded reaction.

For the remainder of breakfast, she took care of feeding you. Despite your initial hesitation, there were no lingering effects from the meal – no signs of drowsiness or disorientation. The food and drink hadn't been drugged, confirming her earlier statement.

Regardless, you still didn’t trust her.

***

Hours passed in a haze.

You were dimly aware of the passage of time, marked only by the shifting light filtering in through the windows and the occasional distant sounds from the staff echoing throughout the castle. Eventually, the light outside the window faded, replaced by the deepening shadows of night.

You stirred slightly, realizing with a growing sense of urgency that you needed to pee. The sensation grew more insistent with each passing second, pushing through the fog of your grogginess and demanding attention. You shifted, attempting to rise, but found your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The pressure in your bladder grew more uncomfortable, spurring you to try again. As you struggled to sit up, the bedroom spun around you, and a wave of dizziness made you pause, gripping the bed sheets for support. Just then, Lady Dimitrescu appeared by your side, her hand resting on your shoulder as she pushed you back onto the bed gently.

“Ah, ah, dear. You’re not going anywhere.” She tutted.

You gazed up at her and hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I... I need to use the bathroom.” You admitted reluctantly, the words felt like a betrayal of your dignity.

Her lips curled into an amused smile, one eyebrow arching ever so slightly, as if she found your predicament both entertaining and endearing. “Oh? Well, allow me to assist you then.”

The thought of her assisting you in such a vulnerable state filled you with humiliation. You could almost feel her amusement wrapping around you like a tangible presence, making your skin prickle.

“I can manage.” You protested feebly, though even as you spoke, you weren't sure you believed it yourself.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a soft chuckle, the sound rich and warm despite the slightly teasing undertone. “I’m well aware but I meant I’ll help you get to the bathroom.” She clarified, her smile never fading.

“Oh.” You said sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks.

Lady Dimitrescu slid her hands underneath your back and legs with surprising gentleness, effortlessly lifting you up as if you weighed nothing at all. Upon entering the bathroom, she set you down on the cool, tiled floor with care. The sensation of the tiles against your skin grounded you in the present moment, though your legs wobbled with residual weakness from the drugs still circulating through your system. Instinctively, you reached out and gripped the nearby toilet tank for support.

Lady Dimitrescu observed you with a faint, amused smile playing on her lips.

“Will you manage?” She inquired.

You nodded in response, the effort feeling more taxing than it should have.

“I’ll be here if you do require help.”

Lady Dimitrescu turned on her heel, her departure marked by the subtle swish of fabric and the resounding click of the door closing. Left alone in the quiet of the bathroom, you gathered your thoughts.

There was something seriously wrong with whatever drugs the Lady had given you. It seemed to linger stubbornly in your system, refusing to dissipate. Everything in your body felt out of sync and unreliable. Even the slightest movement sent a jolt of discomfort through your nerves, like static electricity sparking beneath your skin. The fact that she refused to tell you why she drugged you frustrated you to no end as well. It was a complex puzzle, one that you were determined to solve despite the obstacles in your path.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pulled down your pajama pants and underwear.

Wait.

Since when were you placed in pajamas?

The realization hits you like a disorienting wave. Nausea roiled in your stomach at the thought of being undressed and exposed before the Lady's eyes. With a shaky breath, you tried to recall how you ended up in these clothes, but the memory remained elusive.

You closed your eyes and opened the toilet lid, lowering yourself onto the seat. Each drop felt like a release, a small but tangible sign that you still retained some control over yourself despite everything else going on with your body. With a sense of relief, you stood up slowly and dragged your sleepwear up, feeling the ache in your muscles protesting the movement.

After flushing the toilet, you made your way over to the sink, the floor cool beneath your bare feet. Keeping one hand pressed against the tiled wall for support, you moved slowly, each step a deliberate effort to maintain your balance. Leaning heavily on the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image unfamiliar and distant. Lines of exhaustion were etched across your face, and your eyes, once bright, now seemed dulled by fatigue. With a shaky hand, you reached for the faucet, turning it on until the water flowed cold. Droplets splashed into the porcelain basin as you washed your hands methodically. Cupping your hands under the stream, you gathered some water and splashed it over your face, feeling the shock of cold against your skin.

Leaning closer to the mirror, you inspected your reflection once more, noting the way the water droplets clung to your skin like tiny jewels.

The bathroom door swung open just then and you jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion. Lady Dimitrescu entered, her towering figure eclipsing the doorway.

“Are you done?” She asked impatiently.

“Yes, my Lady.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lady Dimitrescu stepped over to you, her heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor, and picked you up by your waist. She exited the bathroom with you in her arms, and you couldn’t help but stiffen as you spotted Bela standing by the edge of the bed, her expression blank.

As Lady Dimitrescu rounded the bed, your heart froze at what you saw.

Resting on the nightstand was a tray meticulously arranged with a few medical instruments. On it was an empty glass vial, a slender needle, and a thin strip of cloth neatly folded. Your mind raced with questions, each one more urgent than the last. You swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat betraying your rising panic.

“What’s going on?” Your voice quivered with anxiety.

For a moment, Lady Dimitrescu remained silent, her gaze holding yours as she laid you back onto the bed. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes. She then turned to her eldest daughter who stood silently by, her posture rigid yet composed, awaiting instruction.

“Make the preparations.”

“Yes, mother.” Bela responded obediently.

She stepped around her mother and picked up the strip of cloth off the tray. Panic surged within you as you watched Bela approach, clutching it in her hand.

“Please, tell me what's going on?” You pleaded, your voice wobbling in fear and confusion.

“Not now, dear.” Lady Dimitrescu dismissed your concern with a wave of her hand, her attention fixed on the task at hand.

Bela moved closer to you, her presence unsettling. She wrapped the thin cloth around your bicep, which you now realized was a makeshift tourniquet. You flinched away involuntarily.

“No! Stop! Why are you doing this to me!?” You protested, your voice rising in desperation.

Lady Dimitrecu glared at you, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. “Pet,” she warned sharply. “Behave.”

You trembled in place, your body betraying your fear despite your attempts to stand firm. Bela stood nearby, arching an unamused eyebrow at you.

“She’s becoming quite mouthy.” Bela remarked, her tone dripping with condescension.

Her gaze swept over you, assessing and judgmental, making you feel like a specimen under a microscope.

Lady Dimitrescu huffed in response, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “She’s been quite feisty since this morning.”

There was a note of amusement in her voice, as if your defiance was a source of mild entertainment for her. However, her smirk quickly faded, replaced by a look of irritation as she regarded you once more.

Bela reached out and grabbed your left arm with a sudden, vice-like grip. Shocked, you instinctively tried to pull away, but before you could even react, Lady Dimitrescu’s massive hand descended upon your chest, a weighty pressure that pinned you firmly in place. Her other hand wrapped around your forearm and kept it still, the strength in her grip unmistakable.

You struggled under her hold, but she didn’t even budge an inch. Your muscles strained and protested, but it was like fighting against a statue. Every attempt to wrench free only resulted in a tighter hold, her strength far surpassing yours. Lady Dimitrescu’s expression remained calm and composed despite your frantic efforts.

“That’s enough, pet,” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice cut through the air, stern and commanding. “You will lie there and cease your foolish struggling.”

Bela stepped forward once more and wrapped the tourniquet around your bicep. The material bit into your skin, creating a tight pressure that made your veins begin to stand out prominently. She turned around momentarily and retrieved something else off the tray. The clinking of metal on metal sent a jolt of fear through you. When she turned back to face you, her eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

Bela raised the needle, its gleaming point coupled with the glass vial attached to its back, and brought it dangerously close to the delicate crease of your elbow. The nearby candlelight lent a sinister glint to the needle's sharp tip, making it appear even more menacing against the dim surroundings. You tried to pull away, but the Lady’s firm grip on your forearm held you in place.

Your breathing quickened as the needle drew closer. Each breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, your chest heaving erratically. The bedroom seemed to shrink around you, your vision tunneling on the approaching needle.

“No…” You whimpered.

The needle now hovered an inch away from your skin, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Bela’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, a fleeting moment of contact that made goosebumps rise across your flesh. Her gaze was cold and calculating, cutting through the haze of fear with razor-sharp precision. Slowly, deliberately, the corners of her lips tugged upward into a cruel smile, revealing a flash of ivory teeth. Then, the needle was inserted into your skin, puncturing through one of your veins with a sharp sting. You winced, the pain a sudden and unwelcome shock that made you suck in a breath. Blood immediately started filling the glass vial, drawn by the vacuum within.

Bela's gaze focused on the vial as the dark red stream spiraled and swirled in a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic quality. As the vial neared its capacity, she removed the tourniquet in a swift, smooth motion. The sudden release of pressure caused a faint prickling sensation to travel up your arm, like tiny sparks igniting under your skin.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a satisfied hum. “Such a vibrant hue.”

Her gaze lingered on the sight of your blood with a fascination that bordered on reverence. Each crimson drop that filled the glass vial seemed to captivate her. There must have been enough blood in the vial as Bela swiftly removed the needle from your arm. The sudden movement caused a small stream of blood to trickle from the puncture wound. It ran down the side of your arm, leaving a warm, sticky trail behind. Both women’s eyes shone brighter at the sight of your blood, their pupils dilating in predatory anticipation.

Time seemed to slow as you felt the weight of Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze settle upon you like a heavy cloak. Despite the elegance in her posture and the refinement in her features, there was an undeniable danger lurking beneath the surface, a reminder of her primal nature that unnerved you.

She released her grip on your forearm just then, her fingers trailing across your skin in a lingering caress that left a burning sensation in their wake. The touch was both tender and possessive.

“We can’t allow such precious essence to go to waste.” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

She leaned down, her mouth hovering just above the bleeding spot. Her breath, warm and teasing, brushed against your skin, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. Her eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, holding you captive in a moment that stretched on endlessly.

Then, her tongue darted out, tracing the path of your blood with deliberate slowness. The contrast between the cool, wet touch of her tongue and the warmth of your blood sent a shiver down your spine. Your response caused Lady Dimitrescu to moan; a deep, throaty sound that made your throat go dry. The intensity of the Lady’s reaction was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

Bela's lower lip was caught between her teeth as she observed her mother lap up the blood from your arm, her own desire mirrored in her eyes. Her gaze remained fixed, unwavering, as if she couldn't tear herself away from the sight of your blood.

Lady Dimitrescu finally pulled back once the small amount of blood was licked clean off your arm. She ran her tongue over her lips, a gesture both languid and predatory, savoring the lingering taste.

“You taste absolutely delectable, my dear.” Lady Dimitrescu purred, her voice low and velvety.

Your eyes widened in both astonishment and apprehension, unsure of how to react to the odd compliment.

Bela took a moment to recover from the unexpected sight, her breath catching slightly as she composed herself. Lady Dimitrescu turned slightly to acknowledge her daughter, her expression softening imperceptibly in a rare display of maternal warmth.

“Thank you, Bela. You may go.”

“Of course, mother.” Bela replied breathlessly.

Her gaze briefly met yours before she quickly turned to leave the bedroom, the delicate glass vial full of your blood held securely in her hand. The atmosphere shifted once more as the heavy door closed behind Bela with a resounding thud. Lady Dimitrescu turned her attention back to you.

“You’ve slept throughout most of the day. I suppose you must be hungry.” She said plainly.

The casualness of her tone contrasted sharply with the unease growing inside of you.

Is she seriously going to act like nothing just happened?

You met her gaze, searching for any hint of an explanation, but found none. The answer to why burned within you, a nagging question demanding a resolution.

Taking a deep breath, you blurted out, “Why did you have my blood taken?”

The seconds stretched into an uncomfortable silence as Lady Dimitrescu regarded you with an unreadable look. Her eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, now seemed veiled.

“I have my reasons,” she finally replied. “I’d prefer to have you not know until you’re at a point in which I believe you are ready.”

Her response offered no solace, only adding to the growing sense of dread that coiled within you.

“Ready for what?” You pressed, unable to contain the urgency in your voice.

“Enough questions. It’s time for you to have dinner.” Lady Dimitrescu’s response was curt, dismissive even.

The abrupt change in topic and tone left you reeling. You clenched your teeth, fighting the urge to scream and swear at her. Time was slipping away, each second ticking by like a countdown to an unknown fate. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you resigned yourself to the current moment.

For now, you’ll comply with her demand while figuring out your next move.

[planet-dusk]

Ghost!pirate!hongjoong who follows you around after you visited the museum his ship wreck ruins were being displayed at. He just follows you around and helps you when you need to, gets inside your dreams and eats you out till you have to get up but sometimes tells you stories about his crew and old times, who also really dislikes your bff who he sees as someone he should get rid off bc he just looks at you in a irritating way

He is just trying to protect you, dont try to stop him, you wont be able to anyways

🏷️ kim hongjoong x fem!reader. cw ; yandere!hongjoong, ghost!hongjoong, dub/noncon, somnophilia, oral (f), fingering, edging, possessive and other toxic yandere behavior ( 470 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

you're not sure where the pirate who keeps showing up in your dreams came from, but on some days you swear he almost feels real. you've got used to his presence (sometimes even looking forward to it) but even after all those months there's something about his lazy, calculating smile that makes your blood run cold.

at night you wake with his dark head of hair between your legs, tongue already parting your folds and your slick dripping down his chin. he never does anything more than that: eats you out until your legs are shaking, then disappears into thin air, leaving you aching and empty. no matter how much you beg his shining eyes never change, never give in.

you like the tales about his old crew (where are they now? he doesn't tell and you don't dare ask), and the way his face lights up when he talks about his members almost makes him look human. 8 makes one team. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. stories from another time, so vivid it's as if you're there with them. it's easy to get lost in him. you're going out less often these days, heading home after work as soon as you can because you know he might be waiting for you. his visits aren't limited to the nights any more, even though he's unreliable and flaky; sometimes he doesn't show up for days at a time, sometimes he stays with you for hours.

it only makes you more eager to stay home and wait for him. what if you go out and miss him? he might get angry again, it wouldn't be the first time, waking you with his fingers deep inside your cunt for seven nights straight — and removing them right before you could reach your peak. every time you fell asleep he'd wake you up, turning you into a begging mess. the dark circles under your eyes grew with each passing night. there was no point in fighting him; he'd pinned your hands above your head when you'd tried to relieve yourself, surprising strength in such a lithe body.

and on the seventh night, when he was finally satisfied with your sobs, he'd kissed you for the first time and told you the salt on your cheeks reminded him of the sea, his first love. he'd never thought he'd find someone as pretty as her until fate had brought you together.

"you're mine, and mine alone. don't you ever forget it." he'd reinforced his words by finally, finally letting the waves of sweet bliss overtake you.

slowly, hongjoong draws you away from your coworkers. your friends. your family. even your best friend. the only thing on your mind is him, the only one you need in life: your captain.

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[hp-hcs]

Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy x he/him

Yanderes au

He’s a pureblood who was forced to be a death eater, like them. And they get this overwhelming possessive urge to protect him from anyone and anything.

When he’s in pain they can’t - seriously can’t even think of leaving him alone. They’re physically hurt seeing him in pain. If he’s struggling they are going to help, whether he asks for it or not. If someone hurts him? Hell even if Voldemort himself hurts him? Even he wouldn’t survive their wrath.

They see themselves in him. But also not, because they wouldn’t care for themselves the way they care for him. They wouldn’t isolate themselves as they do with him. They don’t love themselves. Like how they are sickenly obsessed with him.

They don’t really let him do anything for himself because of their obsession. What if his bag clip breaks and cuts his hand? Yeah no. They’ll get Goyle to carry it for you. What? He’s feeling hungry? Don’t even think about getting up. They’ll order a house elf to make the best there is. He’s being sent on a death eater mission? Oh they think not. Never again. Never again.

i’ll be honest, i have like five very similar requests in my inbox already, so i kind of just skimmed this one until those last four lines hit me like a fucking TRUCK

! five part series; each part has six chapters ! (ambitious, i’m aware)

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

『 Never Again 』

Yandere! Good! Draco Malfoy x Male! Reader x Yandere! Good! Mattheo Riddle

【 Part One — The Lesser of Two Evils (We Were Children) 】

Chapter One — Nobodies (Who Are You? Are You Nobody Too?)

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

❝ I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you - Nobody - too? Then there's a pair of us! Don't tell! they’d advertise - you know! How dreary - to be - Somebody! How public - like a Frog - To tell one’s name - the livelong June - To an admiring Bog! ❞ — “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”, Emily Dickinson

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy had majorly fucked up five times in their lives.

The first was, of course, choosing to take the Dark Mark and swear allegiance to the Dark Lord—deadly ultimatum or not.

(Choosing is a strong word, though. They didn’t choose. They were told.)

They were fourteen.

~~~

An honor, they were told it was.

A once in a lifetime opportunity, their mothers crooned while stroking their hair. How proud you’ll make your father.

Proud, they repeated in their minds. I’ll make everyone proud.

They kept repeating the sentiment, even as their flesh sizzled and crackled, darkened and flaky around the edges of the new and never-healing burn.

Even as they were sharply dismissed from the Death Eaters’ meeting without so much as a glance from their fathers.

Even as the boys went back to their respective rooms in Malfoy Manor—where Lord Voldemort had decided to set up shop with his army of loyal sycophants—and bandaged up their arms.

Even as they both cried themselves to sleep—praying for Someone to rescue them from this self-inflicted hell—they repeated the sentiment, over and over.

They’ll tell me they’re proud of me. They will.

But Nobody did.

~~~

“Good. Now kill him,” Lord Voldemort hissed in his son’s ear, his hand holding the elbow of Mattheo’s wand arm steady. “Just like we practiced.”

Mattheo licked his chapped lips, steeling himself as he eyed the pleading Muggle man before him.

“Sir- b-boy, please! I- I’ve done n-nothing-”

“Avada Kedavra.”

The Muggle dropped like a rock, his pleas sharply cut off as he fell backwards. His skull made a sickening crack! as it hit the fine marble flooring of the Malfoy manor.

A slow and twisted grin of glee crossed Lord Voldemort’s face. “A-ha! Very good, Mattheo. Well done. Brilliant form, perfect diction…”

(The Dark Lord was not a stupid man. He knew how much his validation affected his son, and he knowingly used that to his advantage.)

“Nephew, come here. Your turn.”

Draco gulped and stepped forward as Mattheo returned to the edge of the Malfoy family’s ballroom-turned-execution-theater. The two cousins traded a glance as they passed one another, both sharing the same thought.

They’d become child soldiers, plain and simple.

Death Eaters.

A pair of Nobodies, doomed to be Somebodies.

Their arms itched.

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

[heremob]

I can see Fliqpy getting overprotective over Flaky but not in a Yandere(?) kinda of way but in like he feels that they are in constant danger because he is allucinating with the war

[azureforreal]

Yandere Flipqy or Tsundere Flipqy?

You are tellin' me u dont fuse the two together?????? W H A T????

I need to draw this, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE LOSING

ITS PEAK CINEMA! WDYM U NEVER HAD THE THOUGHT OF HIS OWN ACTIONS CRASHING DOWN UPON HIM? THE HIPOCRISY HE WILL FACE!!!! THE SECOND HAND EMBARRASSEMENT!!! THE MOMENTS THAT WILL KEEP HIM UP AT NIGHT IN COMPLETE SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAME QHAUAHAAUAHAUHAUAHUAHUAHUAHAUHUAHUA

WATCH HIS OVERBEARING JEALOUSY, PROTECTIVENESS CRUSH HIM ALIVEEE

Sir, making Flippy suffer by his own actions is my job

I'm a professional

AND I DEDICATED

You know those embarrassing memories you have from ages ago that still haunt you? Yeah, those BUT FOR HIM.

On that note, I believe in equality for a couple, so I make both Flippy and Flaky obsessed, delusional over each other and will go though THE SAME AMOUNT OF SHAME QHAUHUHAUAHUAH

[l1tw1ck]

Peter's Favorite

bottom!ftm!yandere Peter Parker x sub!top!masc Reader

peter can be read as whatever peter you want

↳ W.C: 880

↳ [Event Request] | [No AFAB Language Ver]

CW: Non-Con, Aphrodisiacs, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Creampie

You've been friends with Peter for a while, and he considers you his closest one. He rarely flakes on you, even despite what his old friends and ex had told you about him being flaky.

He usually shows up to every plan you make with him and even stays longer than planned. You do most of the talking and he always listens diligently with a soft blush on his face that you never seem to notice.

You also don't find it weird that all those close to you have disappeared one by one. It's not a surprise when you live in a city that has frequent attacks, you never caught on to the similarities. You're just grateful that Peter's always there to help you grieve.

You perk up to the smell of brownies, smiling when Peter offers you one. You take a bite and immediately fall in love with the taste. "This is amazing, Pete, thank you!" You quickly eat the rest of it, unaware of the look Peter's giving you.

For a while, everything is normal, your study session is going well. Up until you get to a particularly hard science question and you turn to Peter for help. You feel your heart race and a familiar feeling in your pants. "Pete.."

"Yeah?" He stares at your boner.

"I feel...weird.."

Peter pulls his pants off, causing you to stare at his lower half and drool over it. "Do you want help?" He asks, taking his underwear off.

You nod rapidly.

"Eat me out first.." He turns his body around and spreads his legs. You immediately push your chair back and kneel down, immediately going in to eat his wet pussy. Peter lets out a shaky gasp as you lick his little cock, tongue switching from there to his entrance. You want to taste all of him at the same time.

Peter rolls his head back, letting out soft moans as you finally find your place on his t-dick, sucking on it desperately. "Yes— keep going-"

You slip two fingers inside him, thrusting in and out of him vigorously.

He cries out in pleasure. "'M gonna c- come~!" He exclaims, squeezing your fingers as he squirts.

You pull your fingers out and lap at his sensitive cunt, drinking up his fluids.

Peter has to force you away from him since you're practically trying to devour him. "Bri- bring me to the bed." He orders, out of breath. You immediately do as he asks. You take your pants off, revealing your thick hard-on to Peter. He nods, allowing you to stuff yourself inside his warmth.

You immediate start fucking him, going at a rough and aggressive pace. You bring him into an equally rough and aggressive kiss, kissing him like you're trying to devour him. Peter moans into your mouth, barely able to handle your roughness.

You eventually pull away from the kiss, opting to litter his neck with hickeys and bites. Your hand reaches down to his little cock, stroking it gently.

"Yes~ yes~!" Peter moans out in pleasure. "Fuck–"

You whisper, "Mine" over and over, holding him tight like he might slip away.

"Wa- wanna be yours-" You whimper. Peter pretty much melts in your hold. He didn't expect it to work this well. "Please-"

"Y- you're mi- mine, [Name]~" Peter moans, coming a second time. You bury your head in his neck and come soon after. Peter expects you to stop, to take a break, but you don't. You keep going, fucking him harder.

“I love you-” You say, ramming into him at a harsh but pleasurable pace. “Peter–” You moan as he tightens around you.

He grins with bright red blush on his cheeks. “Ah~! I love you too~!” He throws his head back, crying out in pure pleasure. He moans your name repeatedly like it's going out of style.

“You feel so good-” You move down from his neck to his scarred chest, tongue flicking his nipple as you fuck him at a slightly slower pace. You suck on his nipple, using your hand to toy with the other. Peter wraps his arms around you, moaning and wordlessly urging you to keep going.

“Fuck~” Peter already feels himself approaching his climax again. “Mo- more~” He rolls his eyes back, coming hard on your cock.

You pull away from his chest, hand still playing with his nipple, and bring him into a desperate kiss. Peter happily embraces it, letting you kiss him until you're both gasping for air.

You gently push him down onto his back and move your hand down to his stomach, watching your cock bulge through his stomach. Just from that you can already feel you coming close to your release.

Peter places his hand over yours, holding you tight. It’s romantic, in a fucked up way. Since you're drugged and all.

Your thrusts come to a halt as you dump your second load into his pussy.

You still weren't done, you fucked him for hours on end, until he turned into an overstimulated mess and the aphrodisiac finally wore off. You no longer have any stamina but you retained the other effects. Meaning, you’re in love with him to a concerning degree. Not as concerning as Peter’s love, but you're close.

[kurimiaki]

Jamil Viper — Pansy, chestnut, & hydrangea

The flower prompt list is courtesy of ddarker-dreams!

Content warning: dark content, implied forced physical affection

Pansy - What was it that ultimately sparked their obsession?

He first pays you mind when you’re partnered in a group project together. Some fickle, ambiguously posed essay prompt assigned by Trein. Jamil, as expected, pulls his weight. So as not to drag him down, you follow suit. It’s no question that he’s regarded as something of a jack-of-all-trades by his peers, a badge of versatility and all-encompassing talent he’s forcibly brandished with— so, under the assumption that this is true, you work hard not to impede your respective success, his above all.

But this particular assignment is to be completed in pairs of three. Jamil’s other work partner does not show for library meetings, does not reply to your texts, calls, or the inquiries you pose outside of their dorm. Jamil isn’t unaccustomed to the flaky vagrants that litter NRC’s student body, but this ordeal irks him regardless; this paper determines the bulk of his cumulative grade for the quarter, and he’s not too keen on being bogged down past the handicaps he’s already posed upon his academic success for Kalim’s sake.

Jamil’s grateful for you, though.

Trein assigned the lofty project on a particularly tedious week for Jamil, who had been wrought with exhaustion and chronic annoyance, with notably prominent eye bags, patience dwindling from sturdy kevlar rope to delicate snapping silk threads. He’d scarcely caught sleep, with only a few, fleeting hours to spare for himself (which were now dedicated to his essay portion). Kalim developed a daily taste for an incredibly complicated dish. Floyd misplaced Jamil’s practice sneakers atop the rafters for kicks. He forgot to clarify that his exam flash-cards were not for his dormleader to keep. He sliced his ring finger while dicing an onion. One night, he only got two hours of sleep, and woke up feeling like he’d been shot, waterboarded, and then shot again during the night.

He’d been especially cursed that week, and you’d done your share throughly and without complaint. Compromising and avid in your participation, you were almost eager to please him. You showed up early to meetings, and went insofar as to finish his study prep (even if it wasn’t to his standards) for another class when Jamil, quite startlingly, fell asleep atop of his reference materials, and did not wake for another half-hour. It wouldn’t usually have, but the considerate act genuinely warmed him. It threw him a bit off kilter. He even woke up relieved to find the finished paper, the smiley-faced sticky note that wished him ‘good luck!’ on his upcoming exam. It makes Jamil simultaneously unnerved and flustered, a combination that has his stomach turn uncomfortably. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it.

It was a small kindness, and might’ve been what kindled his initial interest in you, but it’s a kindness must be repeated for Jamil to acknowledge his interest in you. Even if he understands that the warmth in his chest is his mind and body’s positive reciprocal reaction to the minute sweetness you show him, he will not fully accept that what he is feeling is romantic interest, feeling quite put-out with how little it took to evoke such vulnerable intrigue.

Methodically planned or not, if you repeatedly display a semblance of care for Jamil, and act on it— helping him with cooking, pitching in and offering your services when Kalim saddles him with a seemingly insurmountable task, waving at him in the halls, smiling when he enters the room, demonstrating a baseline interest in his company alone; he’s quickly ensnared. You just have to hack away at him first. Jamil wants to feel wanted.

Chestnut - Would this yandere care about their darling’s past romantic relationships? If not, then why is that?

Disregarding the stabbing feeling he gets in his chest when you casually bring up a past fling of yours (even if the individual was nothing more than a middle school puppy-crush), no, Jamil swears he is not bothered by your past romantic ventures. No, he did not bristle when you spoke their name, and his face did not twist up when you giggled through a funny anecdote of a past failed date. He tells you to drop it, should you inquire further into his subtle bursts of jealousy, even if you’re just harmlessly teasing him for it. He won’t entertain it.

But if you were able to, if you could peel back his ribs and peer into his heart, you could observe how awfully is squeezes when presented with the reality that of course, he’s not your first and only love. Jamil, despite his efforts at concealing it, is incredibly possessive of you, jealous beyond what can reasonably be accepted as healthy and normal. Jealously seizes him, and, unfortunately, is provoked by both your past and present relationships, be they romantic or platonic. That he could not be there from the very beginning to monopolize you in your entirety, is a very irrational regret of his, one he’s almost ashamed to feel. His jealousy spirals into something fanatical and uncontrollable, and he loathes to feel it.

Jamil will persistently try to ignore it, to snip the dangerous buds of envy at the root, but it’s like some everlasting weed that’s even managed to creep into his love life, never abating. Always growing back, and somehow stronger than before. For as long as your attention is left open to the world, to anyone other than himself, it’s a weed that will fester and encompass him.

Hydrangea - How would this yandere react if their darling gave them affection? What is their internal thought process like? 

Ultimately, Jamil isn’t expecting much physical affection from you. It’s not something he really craved in a relationship, nor does he ever long for it; he always believed himself a true independent, disregarding the ludicrous notion that an individual could truly grow starved from a lack of skin-on-skin contact. Jamil steadily maintains this belief— until you take the initiative. He’s always been one to take the first steps, to maneuver your relationship along the path he’s set for it; but he failed to take into account the obvious possibility of your genuine romantic reciprocation. Jamil doesn’t fluster too severely when you first shyly take his hand, not keen on displaying a modicum of softness to the prying eyes of his peers, namely Kalim. To publicly and positively reciprocate to your touch in front of Scarabia’s housewarden, to Jamil’s ward, would open a floodgate of issues for him. The flimsy barrier he’d built to negate Kalim’s already-immovable waves of physical affection would all but collapse, and his harassment would increase tenfold.

PDA is something Jamil kindly asks you to refrain from. He won’t completely discourage you from touching him, merely asking that it be on his own terms: acts of kissing and hugging and hand-holding are as privatized as he can manage. Especially within Kalim’s general vicinity.

In private, however, he does all he can to positively reinforce your affectionate behavior, for as long as you will willingly give it. If his coldness and general lack of reciprocation on campus ever has you fear for your relationship, he’ll work hard to make up for it behind closed doors. He ploys you into accepting his advances— in the privacy only his dorm room provides, he’ll add, barring you from lounging about Scarabia’s main social hub, its atrium. Jamil has you lie with him on his bed, pressed to his chest, urging you to doze off with a few choice words if you’re not already weathered from your day. Any light, intentional brushes of your hand to his will prompt him to cup yours, to intertwine your fingers, perhaps gripping them with too much pressure. Your shy pecks to Jamil’s cheek after a study-session will imminently lead to his tongue down your throat, a rapid progression that very faintly comes off as concerning. As too much, almost needy; but at the very least, you won’t be able to claim that he’s not paying attention to you.

[sweetybaty]

Flakys and Flippys Multiverse!! Gift for two of my friends I forgot to post here Middle Flippy/Flaky belongs to faesdoodles! Right Flippy/Flaky belongs to Azureforreal! Left are mine When I was doing to Flippys I was listening to a mashup of an opening from a game and Daddy Yankee, hear me out its a good shitpost song, it gives yandere vibes you can hear it here .

[thornybubbles]

JJBA Yandere Scenario: Jealousy (The Jo-Foes: Kira)

Note: Canon-typical violence and yandere behavior ahead. Nothing too detailed or graphic, but just a heads up.

Jealous Yoshikage Kira is even more predatory and calculated than he normally is. Very little bothered Yoshikage anymore, but sometimes his job at the department store annoyed him to no end. He kept getting complaints from management about ridiculous things, none of which were in Yoshikage’s job description to deal with. He knew exactly what his boss was doing. He was trying to shove his duties onto his subordinates so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Yoshikage just sighed and handled it like he always did: he sent the complaints to those over his bosses heads and went about doing his actual duties. He wanted to laugh at the thought of how angry his boss would get over being forced to deal with his own responsibilities. The best part was that he couldn’t be fired for it. He was just doing his job after all. Still, the man caused him unnecessary amounts of stress at times due to how insufferable he was. Though he was not as insufferable as the new intern. 

The young man was from some business school and it was very clear he’d never done any real work a day in his life. He was lazy, entitled, and unwilling to put effort into anything more than flirting with the office girls. All of that Yoshikage could ignore. What he couldn’t ignore, was when the intern kept flirting with you. When Yoshikage first started working alongside you, he didn’t think anything of you. You were barely a blip on his radar, but after a while of knowing you, something strange happened. He started to feel a pull towards you that he couldn’t explain. Yoshikage was no stranger to feelings of attraction and lust, but this was something different. After mulling it over a bit, he decided that his feelings for you could be nothing other than love. 

It made perfect sense. You were nothing like the other girls in the office. You didn’t spread gossip or bad mouth anyone to get a higher position like they did. You were charming, polite, and caring. You did your job thoroughly and dutifully. You did have your mischievous side, however and occasionally partook of mild office pranks. It was never anything disruptive, but oh how Yoshikage admired that little devil in you. It was cute. You were a calm, yet playful little kitty and with every day that passed he found himself falling for you more and more. You made him feel so calm and happy. Genuinely happy. Not just content or satisfied, but happy. 

The problem was that you affected him so greatly that he was unable to approach you the way he wanted to. To think that you had such a power over him. To think that the unshakable Yoshikage Kira became as shy as a school boy whenever he was in your presence. He should hate the fact that you have that kind of control over him, but it only made him want to laugh. The strangest thing about it all, was that he hadn’t even laid eyes on your hands before you started making him fall for you. He only got a glimpse of them once when you handed him a pen after he dropped it (how sweet of you). They weren’t anything special. Your nails were clipped short and unpolished, your fingers were calloused from holding a pen (you were always taking notes), and the skin on the backs of your hands was dry and flaky. Normally this would have been a turn off for him, but seeing your hands in such a state only made him pity you. You poor thing. It was obvious you were neglecting yourself. There was no reason why a girl shouldn’t pamper herself every once in a while, especially one that worked as hard as you did. That’s when he got a wonderful idea. 

Once every week for the next few weeks, you would find a carefully arranged gift basket containing all manner of beauty and self care products, especially manicure kits and nail polish. You would stare at them in shock and awe and Yoshikage nearly swooned every time he saw the blush on your face. Clearly you were flattered at the thought of having an admirer and the thought filled him with delight. To think that he made you blush! When you actually started using some of the polish and hand lotions he gave you, he was over the moon. He thought about putting some jewelry in the gift baskets, too, but later decided that it would be a bit too much this early in the relationship. To think that he was already imagining what your ring finger would look like bearing an engagement ring. The thought had him leaning on his desk, resting his head in one hand, and staring at his computer screen like a teenager daydreaming about his crush during class. He would have to snap himself out of such a state in order to get back to work. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. You were making it very hard for the normally patient man to bide his time and woo you properly.

He had already broken up with his current “girlfriend”. It didn’t feel right to start another relationship when he was already in one. Yoshikage was not that kind of man. He may have had many “lovers” during his life, but he was always loyal to them when they were together. Fortunately, things with his current “girlfriend” were beginning to cool off anyway. There was no bitterness between them when they said their goodbyes. He thought back to all of his previous relationships and noticed that none of them made him feel the way you did. (Maybe that was because they were only severed hands and nothing more, but that’s beside the point. Or is it?) He’d only ever felt attraction towards his other girls and little else. He felt nothing meaningful for them at all. You were different. He admired you, genuinely cherished you. He loved you. That must be the case if he felt so strongly drawn to you without being attracted to your hands. He found the rest of you to be attractive enough. He thought that maybe it was time to dispense with having only romantic flings and finally find someone to settle down with. If only he could get over his shyness. The thought of approaching you made his heart race and he had to make an effort to avoid chewing on his nails. 

Yoshikage had been mentally working himself up to talk to you for days now. He didn’t want to mention that he was your secret admirer just yet. That could be a fun surprise for later, after the two of you had been dating for a while. He didn’t know what he’d do if you turned him down though. The thought of it made him want to retch. On this particular day, Yoshikage had decided that even if he didn’t ask you out, he was at least going to talk to you. He thought that maybe you would think him odd if he just asked you out without ever even speaking to you before, so it would be better to at least talk to each other first. But before he could make a move, he saw that repulsive intern walk over to your desk. The low life had the nerve to lean over you and grab your hand! He made a show of admiring your nails before saying,

“Wow. Those are really nice!” 

You smiled up at the intern, flattered. 

“Thanks. I was going to go with a light red, but I thought that was too inappropriate for work, so I toned it down with one of the polishes my secret admirer got me.” you said, happy to have someone notice the work you’d done on your nails. It had been a long time since you bothered pampering your hands after all. You were very proud of how they turned out. 

“Oh? A secret admirer?” the intern said in a teasing manner. 

“Yeah….” you said, then turned in your chair to give the intern your full attention. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?” 

Yoshikage stopped typing. He lowered his head just enough to hide the fact that he was watching the scene play out between the two of you. How long had you been trying to find the identity of your secret admirer? Did that mean something significant or was he overthinking things? His heart was pounding so much that it was making his shirt and tie vibrate with each beat. 

“Oh… I might.” said the intern. 

Yoshikage’s entire body tensed up. 

“Is that a confession?” you asked, giving the intern a playful look.

“Possibly…” he said, returning the look.

Yoshikage was fuming. Was that disgusting little worm actually trying to take credit for his gifts?!

Your eyes grew wide in realization. 

“Wait a minute? Are you saying that you’re my secret admirer?” you asked. 

The intern gave his nails a non-committal glance. 

“Sure. Why not?” he said. 

You proceeded to gush over him and how thoughtful the gifts were and which polishes and lotions were your favorite. The whole time, Yoshikage was doing his best to stop himself from leaping over the desks and ending the intern’s life. 

That little bastard is lying to you! He thought. Why can’t you see it! Please see that it's a lie!!

Then something dreadful happened. You hopped up from your chair and threw your arms around the intern’s neck. The embrace only lasted a moment but it was far too long for Yoshikage’s taste. Unable to look at the scene any longer, Yoshikage’s eyes locked onto his computer screen. He’d been typing the whole time, trying to look as if he wasn’t spying on you and the intern, but his report was ruined. The whole screen was filled with one word typed over and over again: 

“DIE!” 

He gasped softly at the sight. He was losing control. Quickly, he deleted what was on the screen. He could fix it later. Right now he needed to get out of there. He needed to calm down. 

Or else he was going to do something drastic. He got up from his desk, making an attempt to look as casual as possible in spite of how badly his hands were shaking, and headed for the bathroom. He was ever so grateful to find it unoccupied. 

Once inside, he pressed himself against the wall and gasped for breath. He was beginning to hyperventilate. His breath was coming out in ragged huffs and it felt like his lungs were shrinking. His blood pressure was going through the roof and his head hurt so badly. His heart felt like it was going to burst through his ribs. He’d been angry before, but never like this. He glanced at his fingernails. They’d grown exponentially in only a few minutes. His claws were coming out at the worst possible time. He had to calm down. He had to! But he couldn’t calm down until he figured out what to do. He couldn’t lose you to that worthless bastard! He couldn’t lose you to anyone! HE COULDN’T LOSE YOU!!! He was so angry he was going to explode!!!

Explode? 

Explode…

Of course! How could he be so stupid? How could he nearly lose control over an obstacle with such an easy solution? He smiled and sighed in relief, letting himself sag against the wall. Obstacle? No. Hardly even that. This was merely a speed bump. All he had to do was slow down and roll right over it. He chuckled at himself. His heart rate and breathing had returned to normal. He still had a bit of a headache, but he could take something for that later. He pushed away from the wall and walked over to the sink. He turned it on and let the cool water run into his hands before splashing it onto his face. He took one deep, long sigh before finally reigning in his temper. He pulled some paper towels out of the dispenser and patted his face dry. 

He spotted a flash of pink and black in the mirror as he glanced at his reflection. Killer Queen had manifested and was staring at him in the reflection. That was odd. He must’ve summoned the Stand by accident when he was having his near meltdown. Killer Queen made eye contact with him in the reflection. He reached up with his hand and dragged a gloved finger across his throat. Yoshikage was stunned for a moment. His Stand had never shown any kind of sentience before, though he certainly agreed with the sentiment. Perhaps Killer Queen shared his feelings for you? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he supposed it wasn’t really a problem. 

“That’s right, my friend.” he said quietly so that no one passing by would overhear. “We’ll make the little rat pay for laying claim to something that doesn’t belong to him.” 

Later that night, the intern walked into his home to find Yoshikage Kira sitting at his kitchen table. 

“Kira!” the intern cried. “What the hell are you doing in my house? Get the hell out before I call the police!” 

Yoshikage smiled wryly. He glanced over at the smoking remains of the phone that used to hang on the kitchen wall. 

“You can try, but it looks like your phone is out of order.” Yoshikage said in a calm tone. 

The intern ran past him and into the living room, looking for his other phone, only to find that one in the same condition. He ran back into the kitchen and tried to run back out the door only to find it stuck. He pulled and pulled but it wouldn’t budge. Killer Queen was holding it closed, eyeing the intern intensely. The intern gave up on the door. He turned to face Yoshikage. 

“What do you want? Why are you here, Kira?” he demanded as he panted for breath. 

Yoshikage rose from the table, careful to slide the chair back under the table. He knew it wouldn’t matter in a few moments, but cleaning up after oneself was always a good habit to keep. 

“I’m just here to do a little pest control.” 

The intern blinked in confusion. 

“Pest control?” 

“Yes. Must I spell it out for you?” Yoshikage huffed. 

“Okay, fine.” the intern said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Spell it out then. What is this about?” 

“This is about you taking credit for my work.” Yoshikage explained. 

“What?! When did I do that?” 

“Today, when you were talking with her.” Yoshikage growled, feeling his ire beginning to rise. “You lied to her. You told her that you were her admirer even when you know that’s not true!” 

The young man blinked and then scoffed in disdain. 

“So you were the admirer?” he said. “Oh my God. Are you serious? You came to my house to threaten me over a god damned chick?!” 

Yoshikage walked up to where the intern stood and placed a hand against the side of his head. The intern flinched at the touch and looked up at him in confusion. 

“W-what the h-hell are you do---- AAAAAACK!!” 

Yoshikage had slammed the intern’s head against the kitchen cabinet. The intern crumpled to the floor, clutching his bleeding scalp. 

“Ah! A-ah! You.. ah!” was all he could say. The room was spinning and the intern was starting to feel a bit sick. 

“Oh my. That’s a nasty looking bump.” Yoshikage mocked. 

Killer Queen hoisted the intern off the floor. His head was spinning so much that he hadn’t even noticed that something he couldn’t see was holding him up. 

“You seem a bit dizzy. Let’s get you some water.” 

Killer Queen dragged the intern over to the sink and bent him backwards until his bloody head was hanging in the basin. Yoshikage adjusted the faucet to line up with the intern's face, then reached over and turned on the water. The intern sputtered and choked as Killer Queen held him under the gushing flow. 

“Now, don’t overdo it, Killer Queen.” Yoshikage chuckled. “No reason we can’t play with our prey a little bit first.” 

He noticed the small smile the Stand had on his face. 

After a few moments, Yoshikage decided that it was time to end it. He reached over and turned off the water. Killer Queen visibly pouted and Yoshikage was almost tempted to pat the Stand’s head. 

“Alright, that’s enough now. We’ve had our fun, but it’s time to get down to business.” he said. 

The Stand perked up at that. He let go of the intern who collapsed onto the tile floor in an exhausted, panting heap. 

“You brought all of this on yourself, you know.” Yoshikage said. “None of this would have happened if you only remained content to chase after those water cooler harpies and left my darling alone.” 

“Y-yo-- y-you’re insane…” the intern gasped out after finally regaining some of his breath. “I… I’m going to tell my uncle about this!” 

“You’re uncle?” Yoshikage asked. 

“The assistant manager! Your boss!” the intern cried, feeling unduly brave for some reason. 

“Ah! Now the pieces have come together.” Yoshikage said with a laugh. “I suppose he’s the only reason you’re training with the Kame Yu administration team as opposed to cleaning toilets. It only makes sense that his nephew would be as insufferable as he is. You strike me as the type that never got anywhere in life unless your mommy and daddy or someone else arranged it for you. I despise parasitic little vermin like you and I’ll be doing society a favor by ridding it of your presence! To think someone as worthless as you dared put their filthy hands on my angel!” 

The intern’s face went pale and he stared up at Yoshikage in horror when he realized  the meaning of his words. 

“N-no! You can’t!” he whimpered. 

“Sorry, but only one of us will be returning to work tomorrow. It certainly won’t be you, because you are about to have a very unfortunate accident.” Yoshikage said as he looked back at Killer Queen who was just removing his gloved hands from the top of the stove. 

The Stand faded away, but not before sending a vicious kick to the intern’s chest, breaking two of his ribs. Yoshikage shook his head. He didn’t know if his Stand’s new-found independence would prove to be troublesome or not, but that was another thing he could deal with later. 

Yoshikage watched the explosion and resulting fire from the alley a block from the intern’s house. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the scent of destruction in the air. Never had a kill left him feeling so free and untroubled. It was like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders and he felt like he had just been to a spa. Now he had you all to himself, with no one to try to insert themselves between him and you. Though, you would most likely be distraught when you heard what happened to the intern. The authorities would deem it an accident, attributing it to a faulty gas stove. Poor thing, you were so sensitive to things like that. Having such a gruesome death happen to someone you worked so closely with, would no doubt have a negative impact on you. Perhaps that was how he could finally approach you? Surely you would need a shoulder to cry on? He could come to your aid as a concerned co-worker. 

Who knows? Maybe you would even let him hold your hand.

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Lord Muzan Kibutsuji Headcanons: Power And Control (Demon Slayer)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins, and Bad Butt Biscuits! I am here with a new chapter! This one has The Original Version of Muzan as I did the Female/Genderbent Version of him! So now let's Do Muzan! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!] 

(Disclaimer: Muzan is not yandere in canon this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional and yandere characters is fine just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are, you dirty flaky biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Lord Muzan Kibutsuji- 

.He is a man that loves power and control and hates a lot of change.  .He does like things when they do change in his benefit. .Because if you look at him, he wears more modern clothes, has a more modern chair, and a more modern car (For the time period of the show)

.He may say he does not like change, but he does like the benefits of the modern age he is in. 

.Though the change he does not like it more the things to do with his demise, he has a fear of death. 

.He had this fear of death since he was alive and was close to death, being the first demon was not enough for him. 

.He has to conquer the sun as well. 

.He was not a good husband, as he pushed his five wives to take their own lives.  .He was not the best partner to have that was for sure as he had never felt love for anyone.    .That was until he met you, something about you consumed him. 

.He did not like the control he did not have over it or how he felt. 

.How his heart raced, how you were always on every single thought he had, how he longed to have you in his presence.  .It goes on and on and he hated it with all his being and blamed you for the lack of control you made him have. 

.Yes he would blame all these new and strange feelings on you, you must be some sort of magic user that has cast a spell on him and made him weak for a pathetic human like yourself.  .That is what he thought, at least at first.  .For at some point he could not stand being without you and you would become a prisoner in the infinity palace.  .That is right, Lord Muzan is the type of yandere to capture you/kidnap you, and keep you in a gilded cage.  .He finds himself to like your company and he likes the power he has on you.  .That you are fully dependent on him for food, company, and well anything really.  .Some days he forgets to feed you and other days he makes you beg. 

.He can be a very mocking yandere and loves the power he has over you.  .Though if you did try and hurt yourself or kill yourself to escape him, he would grab you by the throat, in a bloodthirsty enraged way.  .He learns in this moment that you are something special to him, and he is not going to let you take the easy way out and leave him. .This moment that happens will actually have him treating you better, he is less cold to you, and remember to feed you more often. 

.At this point he has learned that he cannot live without you, and he only would not have turned you into a demon yet because of the demon slayers.  .Even if he gave you a lot of his blood, you would still not be strong enough to fight off Hashiras.  .So he is not going to risk his prize being harmed or stolen from him. 

.He still has the power and control over you, he just allows you more freedoms now.  .Everyone now knows that you belong to him, so no one dares lay a hand on you, if they did well they would be slaughtered and made an example of.  .He also finds himself considering something, that you would need the best of things, if you are going to belong to the Demon King, then you must look the part.  .So he would spoil you, yes this is Muzan as a yandere for sure, once he accepts that he has a darling that is.  .Him showering you with gifts, is a way of having his ownership over you. 

.You are wearing the clothes, he thinks is nice. You have on the make-up that, he thinks you look good in, your hair is done in a way he loves. The list can go on and on. 

.But of course, Muzan is a master manipulator, so you would not know any of this.  .Muzan would have successfully tricked you into thinking that all of it is things you chose and things you liked. .And you are so deep into his mind games that you do not realize it was him pulling the strings. 

.He is the type of yandere that would mold you because he is not the type of yandere that needs to change for his darling.  .Why would he have to change, he is almost nearly perfect. 

.All he has to do is conquer the sun, and make you his spouse!  .That is all that he needs to do and then his life will be perfect.  .On a bit of a more steamy note, he would have much desire to claim you in an intimate way over and over and over.  .He will show you just a great lover, and future husband he can be. .If he did have "rivals" well let's be honest, it is laughable that they even consider themselves to be his rivals.  .No, Demon Slayer, Human, or Demon (other than himself of course) was good enough for you.  .So if someone claimed you to be theirs, they were simply erased from the world. 

.He would not confess his love, instead, he is going to just one day declare that you are his and that you were his the day he kidnapped you, you just did not know it yet. 

.You also would no longer be allowed to see family and friends, and if he deems it, he will be the only other person you ever see again.  .So you might as well as give up and accept your fate, be a good little spouse for him, and warm his bed.  .If you can do that you will get a treat, remember It does not matter if you love him right now, you will be immortal like him and then you both have all the time in the world... 

.And Muzan he will have all the power and control over you for all this time and all the time to come.  .You are his, you never had a choice. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done! I hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

yandere emesis blue tho.. 😭 imagine you as a random citizen just get thrown in the mix

This is such a hilarious idea actually, I mean- in its own respect it’s horrifying!

They’re on a preset destiny and they are STILL going on about “What if I need them?!”

Babygirls, yall’re doomed by the narrative.

Characters: Conagher Brothers (Platonic), Dell himself, spy, soldier, medic

Tw: Yandere stuff, killing, time loops, feelings of general insanity, stalking and harassment, delusions, gaslighting?, bugging, mentions of skinning, incel vibes radiating off of spy.

Congaher brothers: Zed and Maynard love their younger brother, so of course when they’re told to get close enough with you they do so willingly. Though they aren’t expecting to get attached themselves. They genuinely approve of their brothers choice and make a point to try and hint at him. They fight for your attention a LOT. Which is difficult to get considering their predicament. But they gotta act fast because they know when Dell is gonna need you. Its gonna have to take some convincing from Maynard because Zed is too childish and whiny about you refusing to go. Maynard suggests that the ‘attraction’ they run is owned by their brother and you should go. They feel bad when they have to kill you and go on. They feel really bad, especially because what they were told to do was to make sure your conscious only was ran through the respawn. They however, refuse because it’s ducking rude Dell should have you only to himself. Becomes sort of a Persephone situation.

Dell: Dell can’t find himself getting mad at his brothers for getting attached, though this does mean he makes targeted alterations to the timeline. Some key to getting you near him. You’ve seen him in ‘dreams’ from what he can gather. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased with the look of fear on your face, as collected as he is he can’t deny himself that satisfaction. You talk to him more through ‘dreams’ and he’s proud that he’s been able to make you laugh on more than one occasion. He knows what he can do to get you through the respawn machine but here… here he can build a solid connection with you without infringing on his brothers time to build a platonic bond. He’s proud to have strategized this, and he knows when y’all get together, for eternity that you’ll thank him.

Medic: Medic himself is not amused with the situation he finds himself in. A person deciding to follow him around after he’s done with his job, en route constantly asking him about his day. But as he notices more, as the loop continues he noticed you more. He noticed how you’d always smile with brilliance. How you always remarked him so happily, even though he felt he didn’t deserve it. And what would happen if he just decided to- keep you? To keep tapes, to keep mementos. He’d get this violent itch, to wear your skin against his. To dance with you in the night but in the end, when your image flashed across his eyes he couldn’t. He couldn’t even fathom why he would do that. Or think that even. It’s creepy to you when at the same time a man who looks like your perfect stranger wreaks havoc on your streets, a flash appears outside your window. Something bright blue, almost neon. Then you hear on the news that your stranger was found dead.

Soldier: He’s an idiot when it comes to love but never to passion. He notices the familiarity you have. Rinse and repeat he can count on you giving him the order of the most eventful day of his life. He doesn’t know that of course. He keeps a small picture he was able to convince you to take with him. He keeps it in a band under his helmet. He loves the way you do everything, and he counts on you to make his morning more livable. He, having served in the Second World War just wants that stagnant comfort. You remind him of everything good. And that’s why he gets the exact same thing you recommended the first time he can to you. Coffee black, with one cream. Sausage Gravy and flaky biscuits, with fried chickens, and fruit. He memorizes it, and he carrys your voice like an anthem. (Going as far as to hide a Walkie-Talkie talkie in your house so he can tell what you’re doing when you get home.) he’s most calm when he can hear you breathe.

Spy: Jacques believed he was entitled to you before he even started working with Jane. He’d always seen you walking and constantly tried to woo you to no avail. He eventually decided he’d become very pissy with you when not offered sufficent attention. He’d become very very outspoken about his rejection, going so far as to track you til you threatened to tell the police. Not caring he’d advance till he managed to find where you lived. If you tried to change the place you’d stay it would only put you closer to him. And he liked it that way. Until he didn’t, until you started to feel off as well. The same song and dance skipped over and repeated and then where it ended it would start again. You’d change a tactic and he would ensure your day was hell until the day rewound.

….

[cottoncandyjester]

You’ve obtained a naga boyfriend ✨

Warning this contains: angst at first, near death, starvation, cute naga boy, a bit of yandere behavior if you squint, fluff, happy end?

You were a member of the adventurer guild sent on a quest to investigate the ‘haunted’ forest. It was rumored the forest was haunted because of the loud groaning and crying that could be heard if one were to travel deeper into the woods. At first you didn’t hear anything but you were pretty deep and the sight of a flock of birds flying away made you a tad nervous, your hand went to your sword at your side ready to unsheathe it if anything were to happen.

A hush groaning echoed into the woods. It definitely sounded ghostly and utterly painful. You followed the sound finding yourself growing frustrated since it felt like you were right above the noise yet you couldn’t see anything, you took another step forward before the leaves and thick branches above you snapped causing you to slide down some kind of tunnel. You braced yourself for the fall soon landing in an underground tunnel, great.

You landed in a pile of bones that looked like they were decades old. The sight of an animal skull made you move away with a sigh, you really hoped you weren’t stuck here. You looked around the dark tunnel the groaning getting louder so you followed it letting your hand touch the wall for support.

As you walked deeper you left the tunnel now seeing a huge cave you noticed a waterfall or at least the remains of one since the top of the waterfall was covered up by gravel and rocks only small rays of sunlight poking through the rocks. The area below that was supposed to be filled with water was dry only having puddles, from how big the empty area it seemed to be some kind of hot spring though it struck you as odd since it looked like someone came and dried it up on purpose. You were so focused on the dried up waterfall that you didn’t notice the source of the sound until the sound of shifting made you turn to it only to gasp at the sight.

A large Naga laid on the floor it’s green scales looking absolutely dehydrated and falling off leaving patches of dried blood, long green dehydrated hair reminding you of seaweed covering its face though it’s hair was falling out beside it due to lack of nutrients. It’s pale skin looked like it would rip from its bones that were so visible you swore you could count each and every bone in its arm. It looked thin and practically dead. It started to move the groaning getting much louder one eye peeking from the curtain of blood and dirt matted hair, a dull almost lifeless green eye staring at you.

The naga started to sit up giving you a better look and it made you take a step back, his ribs were so visible you swore they were going to poke out from its flaky sickly skin that hugged his bones all muscle mass seeming to be gone “Prince…..my…prince..came back..for me..” it groaned out before collapsing back onto the floor not strong enough to even move.

The sight was so pitiful that you put your sword unable to slay the dying creature. You didn’t understand the forest was thriving with large animals and fruits it could eat and the entrance wasn’t blocked so they could leave for a better home at anytime but it stayed.

You slowly walked towards the naga hand stretched out to touch it. It hissed lowly flinching from your hand but didn’t have the energy to move but it showed you its sharp teeth and claws that looked downright brittle ready to break at any moment. “I’m not going to hurt you, it’s okay” you cooed out and touched its arm another gasp escaping your lips from how freezing their skin was.

If it wasn’t going to die from starvation lack of warmth would surely kill the cold blooded creature. You looked around seeing the top of the cave that would bring sunlight in was also covered by a large boulder that the naga could absolutely destroy if he had the smallest strength to. This made you realize that he was left here to die, that thought made rage bubble in your chest, you couldn’t leave him to die.

“I’m going to help I promise, please..wait a few moments” you pleaded as you rushed outside to go hunting. It took an hour to collect a pile of deer and boar but that along with the bundle of fruits you collected should be enough to give the naga some strength.

It took a lot of effort dragging all the dead animals to the cave but the moment you did you noticed how the naga perked up picking it’s head up and dragging itself towards the animals, chomping it’s jaw hissing using it’s strength to get close to the pile of meat it’s long tongue reaching out and pulling a dead deer closer to its mouth.

As soon as it had tasted the meat a surge of strength made it hiss happily feeding on the food you brought the sight of seeing it gulp down dead animals without chewing made you shudder, he was definitely hungry.

The naga licked his lips and you were scooped up by its tail and brought close to its chest “thank you..but..thirsty..” it whispers out and you slowly reached out pulling its long hair back showing its face their green eyes having a slight glimmer but it was still pale from the lack of heat. “Okay, I’ll get the waterfall unblocked if you lift me up to it but can you maybe break the boulder blocking the sunshine uptop?” You asked out with a small smile seeing the naga nod slowly.

You were lifted towards the waterfall and placed softly on the cliff. You reached out clawing at the gravel being able to get some of the looser rocks away from the entrance. You used your sword to stab at the bigger rocks watching as the rocks started to crumble, you smiled excitedly repeating the process soon clearing up the entrance but no water came out. You glanced back at the naga who slithered up to the top of the cave touching the boulder that blocked it. With an annoyed hissing he slammed his shoulder against the boulder, the sight making you flinch.

“Hey don’t do that you’re still wea-”

He did it once more and the boulder crumbled pieces of large rocks falling rays of sunlight peeking through the feeling of warmth making him excited enough to claw at the remaining rocks exposing the sun. “So that how the water gets warm enough to soak in” you said softly wondering if you could restore this place enough to get a soak.

“Hey I’m going to be back I think more rocks are blocking the water from coming through.” You said as you started to walk deeper into the waterfall but felt a tug.

The naga had grabbed your arm with its large hand. Now that the sun was lighting up the cave you saw his features much better, his scales looked so dull instead of a bright green they were a grayish green color the sight making you sad, you had to get him water and more food. “I’ll be right back I promise.” You said softly now walking towards him watching him lean down feeling you once again move his long curtain hair away from his face “your hair must be so annoying, in your face like that. I don’t have a hair tie but..” you trailed off before glancing at your cape you were wearing every adventurer was given one. You took it off and smiled “turn around and lean down so I can reach your hair please” you said softly watching as he did as you told him.

You stepped towards him wondering how you were to do this but felt his tail once again wrap around you lifting you close to his head. “So much hair..” you complained before noticing his hands doing most of the work for you by pulling his hair back in a high ponytail, once his hands held all the hair he raised you up feeling you wrap the cape around before tying it tightly his hands softly helping you when you were struggling just a bit.

“There! Good thing those capes are super long!” You chimed out before he put you down back on the cliff now turning to you. He looked happier and color was returning to his face as the sun was warming him up. A part of his hair was tucked behind his ear the sight of his full face made your heart race just a bit. You shook your head trying to focus on the task at hand “I have to go for a little bit if I’m gonna get the water flowing” you explained but his eyes grew sad.

“Promise?” He whispers out his voice hoarse only reminding you of your urgency. You gave a nod before leaving all the fruit you found the sight of fresh fruit making his mouth water, eyes glued to the fruit. “Here, it’s not water but it should hydrate you.. I promise I will be back…” you trailed off realizing you have yet to get your new friend’s name.

“..yuki..” he responded softly as he reached out grabbing and gulping down the fruit licking his lips seeming happy with the juicy fruits. You smiled “yuki..it’s nice to meet you I’m [y/n]” you introduced yourself only for him to look up at you “….bunny.” He said softly. His sudden statement made you a bit confused.

“Is that what you wish to call me?” You asked causing him to nod a small smile on his face, you laughed before accepting his nickname. “Well I’ll be back, get some rest you must be tired” you said as you followed the waterfall seeing that some muddy water was trailing down the stream but it wasn’t the gushing water you were expecting.

You found the source of the trouble being yet another boulder blocking the way, you gave a frustrated huff using your sword once more this time using it like a crowbar to pry the rock from the entrance.

Your sword snapped in two but it did it’s job seeing the entrance was now cleared exposing more sunlight as the stream that supplied the water started to move once again. A bright smile shines on your face as you watched the water rush down, you tried not to get swept away and happily rushed back to where yuki was

He was curled up laying in the large empty dried up grotto basking in the sunlight until he heard rushing water. He first noticed you rushing out standing on the cliff wall away from the muddy murky water that rushed out the water soon losing its dark color after a few minutes and becoming a pretty blue color though the backed up mud and dirt made it look mostly grey.

The area yuki laid filled up with water very rapidly. You got worried when you saw him get submerged in a matter of minutes. “Ah! Yuki!” You snapped out seeing him poke his head out from the water the cape that once held his hair together was held between his teeth the sight of him slithering amongst the water making you relax.

You sat on the cliff just as he moved up placing the cape next to you before going back into the water drinking and swimming the feeing of moisture on his skin making him sigh happily. “That water is really dirty..well it was pretty backed up, I’m sure it will clear up in a few weeks” you said mostly to yourself.

“Hey yuki, who is prince..?” You asked out seeing him pause as he now laid on his back calmly floating along the water watching as the water started to become more and more blue the sight making him smile, his home was going to turn back to normal again.

“He was my human..but it seems he left me.” Yuki said softly with a shuddering sigh. “He used to visit here everyday, we would spend hours swimming and talking, he used to curl up into my tail and sleep by my side..“ he whispers out.

“Then what happened?” You asked curiously knowing this was probably a sore subject but you desperately wanted to know. Yuki paused and sat up, running his fingers through his hair to keep it out of his face. He used his tail that dripped with water to grab you wrapping you around it before placing you on his chest as he resumed laying on his back.

Being on his chest made you realize how big he was, he had to be at least 15 feet tall maybe even taller. You sat on his chest waiting for his answer, staring into his eyes. “..he asked for my shedded skin and a few of my scales , I was unsure what he could use such a thing for but for him I would do anything..he promised he would return but after the fifth day the water stopped flowing..on the twelfth day the sunshine was gone..” he mumbled out and a low hiss came from him.

“I wanted to see why but I didn’t want to leave, what if he came back and saw that I wasn’t here? So I waited and waited..until you came” he spoke with a happier tone at the mention of you.

“H-how long did you wait?”

“I lost count after the sixth year..” he said softly now reaching out and touching your head giving it a soft pat with one of his fingers “but you came..saved my life” he whispers out with a smile.

You smiled back finding his smile very comforting. You spent all day with yuki but when the sun start to set you had to leave, he walked you to the entrance eyes sad at the sight of you having to go. Before you could go he wrapped his tail around you tightly nearly crushing you, fear clearly consuming him.

“Will you return tomorrow?” He asked out, voice quivering. You touched his tail leaning down and kissing it softly the action making him hiss happily, eyes staring at you. “Yes, of course I will..so wait for me” you whispered out.

Yuki slowly let you go, watching you leave praying to the gods above that you meant it. When you returned you were greeted by happy smiles and a snake tongue running up your body like some dog. You helped him hunt and get his strength back, you made sure to visit every single day and there were some nights where you stayed sleeping in his tail being cooled close to keep warm.

Yuki got stronger and healthier, the cave became more beautiful as well looking more and more restored just like it’s owner. During one of your visits where you two were cuddled up he presented you with a gift, two bracelets made out of bright green iridescent “I’m sorry, i lied when I told you unsure why prince needed that scale and my shedded skin..naga scales are magical, they have rapid Healing and regeneration properties..many of my kind were slaughtered and their scales and skins used as armor or put into potions by human mages and knights..I suppose I was a fool to trust him” yuki explained but placed the bracelets around both of your wrists.

“But I trust you, I find myself falling in love you..so take this gift as my courting gesture. Won’t you become my mate?”