#yandere ryan

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Ryan Erzahler (1/6)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited:3

I leaned against Ryan’s shoulder, zoning out completely. We were in the main lodge, sitting by the doorway, sharing earbuds. I wasn’t surprised when the first thing he wanted to do, upon the ‘official’ return of our phones, was listen to Bizarre Yet Bonafide in the open. I knew he was eager to finally listen to the podcast about Hackett’s Quarry itself - even if it was just the retelling of a silly campfire story. I was a fan of the podcast, but I always thought Ryan was the better storyteller. 

Ryan was not a very open individual, but I could tell I’d made his summer a lot easier by being his roommate. Again.

Ryan was humming along, and my eyes flitted up to his expression. He was relaxed. Eyes shut, head back, lips slightly parted. I was an extroverted person, so I liked it when Ryan was happy. That was when it was either when we were together hanging out privately, or he was alone.

Ryan had his legs extended, and mine were pulled to my chest, my arms hugging them. In one hand, he held his phone, and the other was drumming on my knee softly to an invisible tune. We made momentary eye contact, his dark orbs swirling with fondness, before they flustered shut again. However, now that his mouth had shut, a smile tugged at his generally stoic face.

I was about to shut my eyes again, tuning back into the podcast. I loved horror, but I preferred other true-crime podcasts. The two speaker’s voices just… rubbed me the wrong way. It was too high-pitched and annoying. However, Ryan adored them, so I couldn’t help but not voice my opinion. If anything, Bizarre Yet Bonafide was to thank for our friendship at all.

It was funny. The memory of when we first met was fuzzy. However, whenever I asked Ryan, he always recited the same story, as though he knew it like the back of his hand: I walked up to him in the campus cafeteria, where he was sitting alone. I sat next to him and stole an earbud. From there, we bonded over our shared love of mystery, crime, and horror. He was more than excited to introduce me to the podcast.

I suddenly became alert at the sound of distant chatter. Ryan tensed immediately, looking at me with a quirked brow. A grin slowly pulled across my features. I nudged his shoulder, and with half-lidded eyes, he quirked a brow.

“What?”

“I think it’s time to go! Everyone else sounds like they’re out front,” I exclaimed. 

Ryan knew better than no-one that, as much as I loved nature and kids, I missed my family and the privacy of my own bedroom. Ryan probably did too, even though he had a close connection with the Hackett family. We were roommates back in our college town, but I was sure he looked forward to having his own room. Apparently, I snored.

Ryan exhaled quietly and collected his things. We rose to our feet and, out of habit, I entangled my arm with his. He tucked the phone into his pocket and we grabbed our suitcases. As I caught wind of the conversation, though, I tugged on Ryan to make him stop. I’d heard his name. We hovered in the doorway, just out of view from the campers below.

“…Oh, yeah. He’s probably off being all brooding and mysterious and alluring somewhere while Y/n tags along,” Dylan spoke up from below.

I nudged Ryan again, muttering to him, "Hear that? You’re mysterious and alluring. The camp bad boy.”

Ryan only scoffed playfully, and we listened some more.

“Alluring is right,” Kaitlyn seconded. “The girls and I all agreed, Y/n included, mind you, that Ryan was the hottest councilor. Followed by Chris, then you, Dylan, yotta yotta…”

“And where am I on that list?” Jacob piped up.

“The bottom,” Emma snickered, although I already knew the poor guy would take that comment to heart.

“So, you think I’m the hottest?” Ryan mumbled, sending me an amused glance.

I sent a stern look up, since Ryan was incredibly tall. I quipped in return, "No comment.”

“God, where are those two? Making out in a bush?” Kaitlyn complained. Which was enough for me to kick myself out of the doorway and drag Ryan with me.

“Here!” I called from the porch. Everyone’s eyes were glued to us, and I felt Ryan shrink in discomfort. He’d confided in me about his social anxiety before, so it was more of a reason to pull him closer. We arrived at the base of the stairs, and Dylan snickered.

“What were you guys doing up there? Having a party?”

Ryan shrugged, his graphic tee-shirt wrinkling as his arms bobbed. “Uh.. we were listening to a podcast, actually.”

“Oh! A podcast, nice. That’s cool,” Dylan hummed, nodding in a friendly manner. I sent him a smile, which he returned whole-heartedly. Other than Ryan - obviously - I really got along with the boy. Everyone thought he was a braindead himbo, but we’d shared many conversations about biochemistry during our time at camp. We were both total science geeks.

“What’s it about?”

“Yeah, what’s it about? Is it about lo-o-ove?”

The entire summer, the other councilors got a kick out of shipping us together. Ryan always got tense and embarrassed, but I always shrugged it off. I would’ve found it funny if it didn’t make Ryan so embarrassed. His eyes shifted to me, so I could tell he was done talking. 

“As if. What would that even be about?” I chortled. “It’s actually a paranormal podcast. The episode we were listening to was about this place, actually. The… Hag of Hackett’s Quarry.”

“The who of the whatsit where now?” Kaitlyn inquired further, quirking a brow. “What’s the Hag of Hackett’s Quarry?”

“You don’t know about the Hag of Hackett’s Quarry?” Dylan sarcastically added. “Tell her about the Hag of Hackett’s Quarry, why don’t you?”

Ryan chuckled, and I was glad Dylan’s positivity was infectious. I continued, "It’s just this campfire story for the kids. It’s, um… the one Ryan told at some point. There’s supposedly an old lady who died in a fire a few years ago. She haunts the woods looking for her lost son. Pretty basic horror stuff. Ryan’s definitely the better story teller.”

“Yeah, uh,” Ryan started, "There are, like, reports of whispers, or whatever, and this figure that floats around. You know, textbook ghost stuff. Some people say that if she catches you alone, she’ll try to turn you into her son. Or, kill you, or something. I don’t know. It’s never really been clear. Anyways, Hag of Hackett’s Quarry.”

I unlinked my arms and did some ecstatic jazz hands when he finished. Ryan chuckled, although he made sure to wrap his arm around my shoulders loosely.

“Y - you made that up,” Kaitlyn stuttered, somewhat rattled from the explanation. Again, Ryan was a great story teller.

“It’s right here in the podcast, man,” Ryan retorted, pulling his phone out momentarily. 

“Cool story, bro,” Jacob chided. 

“Seriously, though, Y/n’sright. You should’ve seen the first time he told the story at the campfire. They were scarred for life.”

A laugh bubbled in my throat, and Ryan quickly defended, "I mean, not for life…”

“What’s the hold up, Hacketteers?”

Our conversation was cut shot as our attention was drawn up to Chris Hackett, who was leaning on the rails above us. He still adorned his camp uniform and his keychain was strung around his neck. He had a friendly smile on his face, hands clasped together.

“Hey, yeah, uh - we’re nearly done, Mr. H!” Jacob called back, waving enthusiastically.

“Nearly done, huh? Get those butts in gear!” Chris playfully remarked.

“Sorry, Mr. H, we had to liberate some luggage,” Emma agreed.

“Shut up!” Abby hissed in embarrassment.

“Maybe if somebody didn’t spend so much time trying to impress his lady with his ghost story…” Kaitlyn chuckled.

“You asked!” Ryan shot back defensively, and pulling me closer. I had to hop and readjust my footing, not commenting on his tenseness. I knew that, even when spending time with the group all summer, he was still not too familiar with them. Minus Dylan, since he tried really hard to break the barrier.

“Ghost stories?”

“The Hag of Hackett’s Quarry.”

Chris exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. “Ugh.”

“Hey, do you still have the van key, Mr. H?” Kaitlyn asked.

“Why, yes I do!” He stood straight and shuffled through his pockets. He sighed, though. “You know, I’d lose my head if it wasn’t stuck on. Back to the office I go. Give me a hand, wouldn’t you, Ryan?”

Ryan and Chris finally returned, and Ryan had the keys in hand. I stood up straight, crossing my arms in anticipation. As nice as a nature retreat was, I was eager to be in the modern world again. Oh, and to be away from all of the petty camp drama. And, no, I do not mean the kids. I meant the councilors, who had acted like middle schoolers all summer.

“Oh, okay,” Ryan agreed, reluctantly separating from me. He sent me one last glance as he went on his merry way. I watched in amusement as Dylan tried and failed to get his phone charged before we left. While I waited, I hoisted my suitcases into the trunk of the van and leaned against the car. I took note of how my fellow councilors were with each other. Nick and Abby would send fleeting, abashed glances at one another, Jacob looked miserable, Emma was… Emma, and Dylan was talking to Jacob about something silly.

“Wait, how did you get our phone back before the rest of us —" Dylan started.

“Because I never turned it in,” Ryan smugly interrupted.

“You should’ve turned it off before you handed it in, Dylan,” Chris stated. “Them’s the rules, you noob.”

I had a hard time resisting laughter from Chris’s attempted use of modern slang. I figured he got it from the kids. Chris handed Jacob the keys as he walked past. Ryan was quick to saddle up next to me, crossing his arms. Although he was comfortable with Mr. Hackett, it rubbed off now that he’d returned to the group.

“I try not to dwell on the past, man.”

“Good, because it’s time to dwell on the minivan and get on with our respective lives!” Jacob hopped into the front seat and I opened the side door, preparing to hop in. “Move it, let’s go!”

However, the van started making odd noises, and I took a step back with furrowed brows. It kept churning and the engine didn’t start at all. I tilted my head as Chris vocalized everyone’s thoughts.

“What’s the problem?”

“Ugh… dude, I don’t know. I - I think there’s something wrong with the engine, Mr. H,” Jacob answered, waving his arms expectantly.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Yeah, dude, it’s just like… kaput!”

Ryan frowned, walking up to the the window immediately. “Alright, let me try.”

“What? Dude, I’m telling you, alright, it’s busted!”

“‘Well, maybe you’re doing it wrong.”

“Duh, 'well maybe you’re doing it wrong’!” Jacob mocked, and Ryan froze in place.

“The fuck, dude?”

“Enough! Enough, both of you,” Chris intervened. “Shit. Come on, let’s go.”

“Alright, dude, chill!”

Chris and Jacob changed places, although it only yielded the same results. I walked over to Ryan, peering into the window with him. I rubbed his back, and his shoulders drooped just enough to satisfy me. However, another problem had clearly arisen as Chris’s expression morphed into stress.

“Damn it! I thought I told you kids to check everything!” he scolded angrily. 

“We did! It should be working…” Kaitlyn squeaked.

“Yeah, well, could and should doesn’t mean it is, does it?” He kept trying the engine, cursing even louder. He finally stepped out of the car, his hands trembling furiously. “Okay. Okay.”

“Well, what’s the big deal?” Jacob mentioned. “We’ll just have to spend another night here. It’s no biggie.”

“No. No!” he boomed. “Just stop. Let me think.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in disscontempt. He paused, and we all watched and waited expectantly. I already knew Ryan wasn’t happy about the prospect. Also, in the back of my mind, I suspected Jacob had something to do with the engine in a frivolous attempt to chase love.

Chris finally halted his pacing. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Yeah, you're right.” He suddenly tossed the keys our way, and Ryan caught them with ease. Confusion was plastered over all of our expressions at his outburst. “Hey, Ryan. Come here for a second.”

As he fled to his jeep, he beckoned the man over. Ryan followed, leaving me and Jacob in awe at the change of plans. I couldn’t hear much of what Chris had said, but as the jeep started up, I assumed Ryan would relay the information. Ryan was uneasy as the jeep sped away.

“Lock the doors!” Chris shouted. “And for god’s sake, keep the noise down!”

“So… what was that all about?” I inquired, and everyone’s attention went to Ryan.

“He, uh… said to stay inside. That we’re not leaving until the morning,” Ryan answered, scratching the side of his head in bewilderment.

“Are. You. Kidding. Me?” Emma sighed in irritation. 

“Em-m-m,” Jacob flirtatiously cooed.

“Are you kidding me? What are we supposed to do?” Emma boomed suddenly.

“Well, we should go inside. Like he said,” Ryan insisted.

“We could go inside until morning,” Dylan agreed. “Or… Or we could do something else.”

“What… are you talking about?”

“No Mr. Hackett. No screaming kids. Just a bunch of grown-ass adults ready to cut loose and get down with their animal side.”

“Oh-h-h, hell yeah!” Jacob cheered, catching on immediately.

“P-A-R-T-Y. Why the fuck not? It seems like the stars have aligned for us, no?”

Ryan was shaking his head insistently. I distanced myself from the van, joining the circle. His jaw was clenched and I could tell he was not on board. However, I clapped my hands in excitement, earning a glare from the boy.

“I’m totally down!” I agreed instantly. 

“Okay, okay, okay…”

“One last epic bonfire blowout for all time,” Dylan continued. 

“Jesus Christ,” Jacob grumbled.

He allowed us to collect our thoughts. Nobody was disagreeing, much to my joy. However, that was cut short by Ryan. “I don’t think he was just trying to freak us out, Jacob. I think he was really freaked out by something.”

“Chris seemed really serious about this, guys.”

Dylan shook his head. “Y/n, you’re in, obviously. Come on, Ryan. Just say you’re in. One last night won’t hurt any of us. He won’t even know.”

“Yeah, but I promised —"

“No, no, dude. It’s all good. Alright, we get it, you know,” Jacob taunted. “You, uh, don’t want to disappoint ‘daddy’.”

“Someone’s got to give a shit, dude —" Ryan aggressively continued, but I cut him off.

“He’s in, guys.” Ryan sent me a glare as I placed a hand on his shoulder. I sent him a reassuring smile. “Ryan, it’ll be fine. What do we have to worry about, bears?”

“Alright, alight, alright, Hacketteers! Party planning committee. Let’d do this! Um, okay,” Jacob began. “First things first. Nick and Abby, you go get some firewood. Um, Emma and I will go to the store for some supplies. And, uh, Dylan and Y/n, you just… I don’t know, figure out how to charge the phones or something. Alright, let’s do this!”

I was completely hyped for the party, a grin spreading on my face. Ryan still had a firm frown, but Dylan and I exchanged glances. We knew exactly what to do.

As the group dispersed, I grabbed both Ryan and Dylan’s arms, pulling us together. Ryan tug for freedom, suspicion laced in his eyes. I didn’t give him the chance to be a negative Nancy, though. “Ryan, you have the keys to Mr. Hackett’s lodge. Care to escort us?”

Ryan scoffed. “We’re already breaking enough rules as it is, Y/n —"

“Rules were meant to be broken, my friend,” Dylan chimed in, tugging us in the general direction of the office. 

Ryan sighed, caving, and we were off. Dylan was bursting with excitement, vocalizing his hopes that Jacob and Emma stumbled across some alcohol. Ryan was silent the whole walk. We finally arrived at the office and he pulled out the keys, unlocking the door. It swung open.

Dylan hopped into the room, leaving me and Ryan to linger in the doorway. “Alright… the inner sanctum!”

“It’s just an office.”

“This is where the magic happens,” he insisted, holding up his phone. 

“Yeah. Let’s just make this quick.” Ryan ushered me in, closing the door behind us. 

I wandered over to the desk curiously. I couldn’t help but pick up a family portrait of Chris and his kids. Ryan talked about them often, since he had a close, personal connection, but I’d only met them a few times. They seemed sweet, though.

“So… podcasts?” 

I set the frame back down, turning and leaning on the desk as I watched them engage in conversation. I appreciated how Dylan was trying to break down Ryan’s walls. He was going down the right path, too, since it was the same podcast that did it for our friendship.

Ryan nodded, straining a smile. “Yeah.”

“Alright.” He paused, trying to find a way to continue the conversation. “Uh, what’s it called? The one you’re listening to right now?”

“Uh, Bizarre Yet Bonafide.”

“So, like, ghosts and stuff?”

Ryan scratched his neck. “It’s like… the weird and wonderful.” Dylan had opened the dam, much to my joy. “Digging up weird mysteries and discussing if they’re, well, bonafide.”

“‘Boner’ fide. Get it? Boner? Heh.”

“God, you’re such a child,” I giggled, embarrassed by how much he’d secretly made me laugh. Ryan glanced at me, while Dylan sent me finger guns. 

“Your wit knows no bounds.”

“So… should we check out what Mr. H keeps in his private den of sin?”

“Ah, I don’t know, man. I feel weird going through his stuff.”

“Okay, well, I don’t. I mean, come on, what kind of dirty secrets does the owner of a summer camp have anyways?”

Ryan scoffed, his eyes sending me a plea. “You’ve got my back, don’t you, Y/n? It’s a little mean to snoop around.”

Both of their eyes remained on me. I bit my lip and shrugged. “I always have your back, Ryan. Except now. Because I have a hunch that Mr. Hackett has a secret stash of beer in this room as we speak.”

“Hell yeah, he does. Or maybe a sex dungeon!”

“Escandelo.”

Ryan sighed, leaning against the wall. The keys were dangling in his hand. Dylan walked around the desk, inspecting the contents. I went over and plopping in the wheeled chair, laying back to relax. I for one would leave the exploration up to Dylan and his beautiful brain. And I would leave the brooding to Ryan, because at this point, he was pretty darn good at it.

I giggled as I spun in the chair, which made Ryan join me by the desk. “I could get used to this chair, baby-y-y.”

Ryan snickered, gazing at me fondly. “You better hope Mr. H doesn’t catch you taking his baby out for a joyride.”

Dylan went over to the bedroom door, but to his chagrin, it was locked. He tried the handle again with a pout. Ryan’s attention was brought back to the man, all fondness from his eyes fading. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t having a good time.

“Yo, my guy, toss me the keys.”

“Uh, so you can poke around in Chris’s private area?”

“I’m sorry, is that something that only you’re allowed to do?”

Ryan scowled.

“Come on, what’s the harm in looking? You’re not a little bit curious? I’m not going to touch anything.”

“Sure you will, Dylan,” I chuckled fro the sidelines.

“…Fine. Don’t let me regret it.”

Ryan tossed him the keys, which Dylan caught with ease. He unlocked the door before tossing them back. I leaned my head against the chair and shut my eyes. Ryan walked off, but ruffled my hair before doing so. I wasn’t surprised that he was accompanying Dylan. 

I was convinced that if Ryan was a little more openminded, he and Ryan would have great chemistry.

“Woah, hey…!”

“Hey, hey! Maybe we shouldn’t…”

I listened from the sidelines as they explored the other room. The conversation quickly died off. I still heard it from a distance, but it seemed they were exploring some sort of bathroom. I let them explore. I was planning on saving a nap for the ride home, but now that that wasn’t happening anytime soon…

“Hey, we’re all done here.”

I gasped, startled at the close proximity Ryan was at. He was right beside the chair, while Dylan was cheekily standing with his phone in hand. Ryan laughed at my reaction, but I was quick to hop to my feet. 

“It’s not that cool —"

“God, Y/n, you won’t believe what we found —"

“Mr. H has a secret room in his closet! All sorts of security cameras are set up around the camp. Plus, he has all sorts of blueprints. Isn’t that weird as hell?”

“Damn, really? I want to see —"

“No, nope,” Ryan interjected again, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “We should be off then. For someone who’s looking to party, though, you can’t seem to stay awake.”

I pouted, sending the man a playful glare. “You guys were taking forever. And Dylan, you can’t tell me there wasn’t even one bottle of beer around?”

“Nope. Notta. Except for his deep dark secrets, Mr. H is incredibly dull.”

I groaned, allowing the pair and I to leave. I was still little tired out, but once we joined the group again, I knew my energy would be up. There was a pep in my step, although Ryan always made sure to calm me down regardless. We sauntered up to the campfire, where Kaitlyn had just finished taking a photo.

“Hey Kaitlyn, guess what! Mr. H is a voyeuristic creep,” Dylan declared, separating from us. Ryan immediately sighed, but I giggled, indicating that the man had been doing. “He has hidden cameras everywhere, and a secret room.”

“No, that’s not —"

“Back up. What?”

“His eyes are everywhere. He’s always watching us.”

“Well, actually, he just watches the trails,” I spoke up. “He’s probably keeping an eye out for stray campers and bears.”

“Exactly, Y/n. Thank you.”

“Oh.” Kaitlyn backed down, no longer caring about the new information.

“So, uh… what’s going on here? Everything ready?” Ryan inquired awkwardly.

“I did see a weird light in the treehouse across the lake,” Kaitlyn admitted. “It was pretty spooky. Maybe it’s that Hag you’re so obsessed with.” Ryan laughed haughtily, but Kaitlyn continued, "You know, I just realized we may never see each other again after tonight. I mean, other than you two, since you literally live with each other, but…”

“You’re just realizing that?” Dylan chuckled.

“I’m just trying to set the mood!”

Dylan plopped down on some wood, fetching a playlist on his phone. Ryan pulled me over to sit too, and I leaned against his shoulder as we waited. It was just in time, too, because Nick and Abby rejoined the group. And right after, with a goddamn wheelbarrow, Jacob and Emma appeared.

[yanpotatowriter]

What should I write first?  Yandere Ryan headcanons or Yandere Emma headcanons?

[yandere-wishes]

No, you don't understand. I'm OBSESSED with them!!😭💞😭💞

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Kencanons

Warnings: Kidnapping, Abduction, Major Spoilers for The Barbie Movie, Unhinged Post, Possessive Ken, Ken Just Wants to be Loved, Petnames, Ken Being Condescending, Post-Patriarchy Ken, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except 'You'.

Simply put, you’d charmed Ken. Made his non-existent heart flutter and a feeling he always associated with Barbie to overtake him. Been in the wrong place at the right time. Hence, less than a few hours after your meeting with Kenneth, you were in Barbieland. Sorry - Kendom Land.

You’d made the mistake of asking him for the time, in a rush to make it to work. And, with a twinkle in his eye and a seeming newfound sense of purpose, he proclaimed that “You respect me!”

Dazed and with little else you could say, you shrugged. “I mean…I guess…?”

And that was enough for him.

“I must go – get back to Barbieland – spread the news about patriarchy!”

You'd humoured him, more for the promise of your own safety than actual agreement, and he tipped his hat to you, billowing away in the direction of Venice Beach in a haze of his own world.

You managed to dodge him initially, untangling yourself from his vacant stare and making it to work unscathed.

On your way to lunch a few hours after, however, you were accosted again.

Of course, by none other than Ken Carson.

Who, having put all he’d learnt from his books on horses, the Wild West, and patriarchy, literally lassoed you and threw you onto his shoulder.

“We’ve gotta get you back to Barbieland – the Kens are not gonna believe this !”

On your journey back to this mysterious place, Ken explained to you how Barbies usually rule everything while the Kens are left with nothing.

“But, with you at my side, I’m sure we can make it right!”

You genuinely chalked this guy up to be insane, if at most, an escaped patient.

However, as you traversed 2D landscapes, you were more inclined to believe him. That this fabled Babrietopia did in fact exist.

And, once you get there, you become Patriarchy Ken’s personal servant.

He tells you to “Brewski Beer” him, all the while talking about how his initial conception of patriarchy had been that it was “Horses who ran the world, but it’s actually men — and horses are men extenders.”

He calls you his “bride-wife” or “groom-husband”, which, compared to the other Kens’ long-term distance low-commitment casual partners, seems oddly…endearing. Dangerously permanent.

With no idea how to get back to the Real world, you’re stuck with Ken and his entourage of fellow Kens, the Barbies either indoctrinated into their way of thinking or in hiding.

Speaking of, you are basically Ken’s property.

And he treats you as such whenever one of the other Kens tries to accost your service.

His tone is low, eyes sharp. “(Y/N) is my long-term distance low-commitment partner, not yours, Ken.”

And, to show as much, you get to sit on the floor next to Ken as he watches the Godfather with his Kentourage, talking through the whole thing, commenting on its ingenuity and nuance.

He also makes you stay nearby whenever he changes outfits - which is just him changing into another faux mink coat, pants and headband.

Despite being this new, independent, untethered Ken, he asks your opinion on things which seem largely inconsequential. Still, you sense something unstable. Insecurity, perhaps.

"What about...this coat?"

"Isn't that the same as the last one you showed me?"

Ken looks at your glass reflection in the wardrobe doors. His smile glitches, falters. He replaces it.

"Yeah, course - I was just testing you, seein' if you were paying attention."

Whenever you get a moment alone, away from the madness of the Kens, it’s short-lived. For Ken is never far behind, seeming to materialise in the doorway of whatever room of the Dreamhouse you’ve adopted as your refuge.

“What’s wrong, tiny baby?” He says, sauntering over to you, snake-like.

“I want to go home, Ken,” You tell him, voice racked with sobs, tears in your eyes.

He just gives you a narrowed, confused look, adopting an almost incredulous posture as if to say ‘Why?’

“First of all, I don’t like your tone, Doll,”

He steps towards you. You step back.

“Second of all, why in Kendom Land would you wanna leave ?" Another step forward. Another step back. "This is the dream of any patriarch’s partner to be where you are now; it should feel just like home !” Another step forward, another step ba-

Your legs hit the edge of the bed.

It doesn’t matter how hurt - or frightened - you look. Ken doesn’t listen.

“And besides, do you know how many Barbies would kill to be where you are now ? I know Weird Barbie would.” And he smiles – smirks – as if he’s triumphed you in some way only he is aware of, hands on his waist. The image of power.

Ken tends to test his boundaries when it comes to physical affection.

Seeing as he received none with Barbie, he seems to want to try his luck with you.

And yes, this does include him puckering his lips and staying stood in front of you until one of you caves.

Usually, it’s him, causing him to retract and act as if nothing happened. Which it didn’t. 

But when he really wants a kiss, he can persist for hours.

You timed him. Two hours and three minutes until you relented and pecked him.

“Wow,” he says, every time, as if it’s the first time, his eyes clouded with dreams and what you could only pen as whimsy.

He’s incredibly touch-starved. Show him an ounce of willing and he’ll be overjoyed in his own, new, macho way. Though, he does have a hard time containing a squeal whenever you touch skin.

Secretly, he's entranced by how...human you are. how different you feel and talk to the other dolls in his Kendom.

He's developed an obsession interest with your hands, holding them in his, telling you how small and soft your hands are compared to his.

He squeezes them whenever he gets the chance, commenting on how "Squishy" your fingers are, despite you having a skeleton beneath your skin - a concept that blows Ken away every time you explain it to him.

He also adores hugs. Though, he only hugs you/lets you hug him when out of view of other Kens. He needs to protect his image as the stoic leader, after all.

Loves a cuddle; goes stupid crazy for them.

He favours holding you to his chest and resting his chin atop your head. He finds your warmth a foreign comfort. While you find his lack of a heart – and a beat – a discomfort.

“S’nice and warm,” he says, eyes closed, the image of laxity. "Being here with you."

He mumbles that last part. You know not to inquire further. The Kens consider any form of genuine affection to be a weakness.

It’s in your best interest to just let him stay there and talk about whatever it is he’s fascinated himself with, lest you wish to incur a temper tantrum or the cold shoulder.

Aside from being a fan of hand-holding, he's also a partaker in wrist-holding.

If you ever do something to aggravate him, he tends to grip your wrist hard enough to make you wince, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed.

“Something wrong, Babe?” He’ll say, tone deep with simmering wrath.

You know not to push it with Ken.

Despite how platinum and perfect he is, he does harbour a resentment which, whether caused by you or not, he seems to target you with.

Talked to a Ken for too long, or in a way he didn’t like?

He’s going to embarrass you in front of him. Make you seem undesirable to all who are not himself.

He knows he can’t make you disappear, given the fact that you’re mortal. But he knows he can make other Kens disappear; an idea that, the first time it appeared to him, frightened him, made him confront a darker half he’d repressed. But, as time went on, he’s learnt to harness it in ways you’d never have suspected from a Ken.

Not that you’d know it from the way he treats you, but he does actually care for you.

Perhaps…as much as, even more so, than he does — did — for Barbie.

He doesn’t feel like he’s tethered to any one job or image when he’s with you; his identity is not an extension of yours. But, he does try to treat yours as if it is an extension of his.

“Babe, hurry up with those beers — the game’s about to start !”

He knows you’re impervious to the effects of his brainwashing, given that you’re from the Real World, so he feels that you’re the most genuine person in Kendom Land. Hence he tends to treat you with equal harshness and care.

This also often leads to Ken asking you things about your world. Things he doesn’t yet have the answers for.

His favourite pastime is to lay his head on your thighs while you sit against the headboard of his bed, asking you any and all questions that come to mind.

“What’s your favourite colour?”, “Where does the sun go when it’s night time?”, “What did you do at your job?”

Personal ones like that last one often cause you to tense, and Ken can tell. He tends to refrain from asking you such questions now, seeing as any reminder of your life prior to this cause you to, what he has learnt to call it, cry.

Despite how tone-deaf Kenneth can be, he is actually rather intuitive. Or, rather, considerate.

When you’d told him your favourite colour, he’d painted his bedroom walls in it. Albeit a slap-dash job of it, given how interior design is not in his box description like Interior Design Ken, but he tried !

Despite his small acts of kindness being his attempts to imitate comfort, they do little to calm you. For everything he says, does, discussing a future with you in Kendom Land, changing aspects of his world to cater to your preferences, feel as if you are to take up unwilling, permanent residence here.

And, while you wait and plot for a way to escape, you exist as a perpetual puppet for Ken to mither and berate and order around.

In the real world, a doll has started appearing on shelves – a new range of ‘Misery Barbie/Ken’ dominating the toy aisles of every supermarket and toy store, your visage wrapped tightly in every box.

Tears, an outfit demeaning enough to make a grandmother faint, and the unwavering expression of the need for freedom.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterpost Masterlist

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[reareaotaku]

so I had a though what if the Barbies and the Kens actually had private parts but actively avoided them (think, using etc)?

Like Barbies do have boobs and you can see that the Kens have nipples. Also dolls - as far as I remember - had panties, craved in, panties.

I believe in the movie they talk about how they don't have genitals. Though, let's say that they do have privates, what would happen? Also ignoring the second part

Pleasurable Sin [Headcanons]

Yandere! Ryan! Ken x Fem! Reader Tw: Smut/Nsfw, Masturbation/Jerking Off, Ken has a dick! 🔞18+ Content due to dark and adult themes. Read at your own risk

The Barbies are more sexually aware/have a sexual education

The only reason the Kens don't ALSO have a sexual education is because they don't take it seriously [Also, they're not really getting laid]

There are no diseases, STD & STIs, because there's nothing to give it to them if that makes sense?

They are humanized versions of their doll personas, meaning they have human bodies and need food, water, air, etc

The Kens are very sexual

Your Ken, Ryan, is always touching you and humping you, quite literally

The first time Ken jerked off he had no idea what he was doing

He grabbed the base/shaft and slowly moves up towards the tip. He slowly picks up the pace, which causes him to groan. He really liked the feeling and speeds up. He quickly speeds up when feeling his lower intestine tighten up and then cums all over his hand

He's out of breath and excited with this newfound pleasure

It makes him wonder if you also feel like this

He's completely clueless and thinks you also have a penis

"Well, don't you pull on it too?"

You look at him confused, before laughing at him. He blushes, embarrassed, feeling like a fool."

"We don't have the same genitalia, you know that right, Ken?"

"Of course I do... So what does it look like?"

Once he does figure out what jerking off and how good it is, he does it a lot

When you rub against him, it's like seeing stars

It feels better when you rub him than when he rubs himself

Man will do anything for you to touch him

He's very loud and cries during sex

He'll cover his mouth when your mouth is wrapped around him, because he doesn't want anyone to hear him

Suck him like a lolipop, it's like a treat for him

Barbie Dreamhouse Ken would care about your pleasure

Ken is so excited and sometimes forgets to please you

He moves so fast and energetically

Though, if you tell him, he'll be more cautious, because his biggest fear is you not loving him. So, when he does realize that he's been upsetting/displeasing you, he's scared

While he does enjoy the feeling of being inside you, if you show any discomfort, now that he has eagle eyes on you, he'll be quick to ask what's wrong

He's willing to do whatever you're up for

He's also really easy to turn on

If Boner Alerts existed, his would go off anytime you're near

You don't even have to do anything; You just talk a certain way/Lean into him just a little to far/ You look at him a certain way... Well, it all works and he gets excited

He gets really sad when you say no, but is willing to do it by himself. He'd rather you help him, but it's okay, he'll just use his imagination

Oh boy, does his imagination run wild

Good thing Porn doesn't exist in Barbie Land, because he'd be wanting to do it all with you

While he does love 'Love-making', he doesn't think about it constantly. Sometimes he loves the way you look in the sunlight. You look beautiful when you smile. Your laugh makes his heart beat and his skin gets those goosebumps. A shiver runs up his back when you look at him like he's the only man in the world

There's no one else like you. Yeah, the Barbies are pretty, but you are one of a kind and you're the only person who owns Ken's mind

[windrsr]

Ryan (Male Yandere OC) x Gender Neutral Reader

Tw: Stockholm syndrome and character death.

Yandere Test Subject/Experiment With An Scientist Darling

•At first, he absolutely despises you. He argues with you and won't hestitate to put up a (physical) fight with you if he wants to. It takes him a long time before he "behaves" for you.

•He even hides from you and will kick and scream at you, telling you to get away from him after you catch him. You'll have to sedate him for him to calm down. When he wakes up, you pat his hair, telling him everything is going to be okay.

•You figure that you should be..."nicer" to him if you need him to behave. The truth is, you treat any of your test subjects like this when they don't act the way you want them too. So, he's not that special to you.

•When you take care of his wounds after experimenting on him, he glares at you the entire time. His whole entire body is tense, and he flinches whenever you land a hand on him. "Relax, love." You coo. "It's okay. I'm just taking care of you, see?" This confuses him a little, but it makes him less tense.

•He slowly becomes obsessed with you the more you switch from hurting him, to loving him. They love me, he thought. No matter how much they hurt me, they still love me.

•He starts to get separation anxiety; when you leave him alone for a couple of hours, he misses your touch, regardless of how violent or gentle it is.

•He becomes more "submissive" to you. "You can do anything to me, y/n," he says. "After all, I belong to you. My body, my mind, all of it belongs to you."

•But you come to a point where you don't need him, anymore. His body is all used, he's getting weaker each day, and you can't find any use for him anymore. You lay him down and kiss him one last time, before telling him goodnight and permanently sedating him.

[wpdarlingpan]

hello! for the requests, how dark are you comfortable with writing? i wanted to request something barbie movie x reader with maybe kidnapping, noncon/dubcon, breeding, baby-trapping, idk something like that!

Their Love

Hey! Thank you so much for the request. I’ll probably only do kidnapping and a little sleeping kiss cause I’m not the most experienced on writing the other two so I hope you still like it!

Warnings: kidnapping and slight noncon (kiss while your sleeping)

Barbieworld (mainly Barbie and Ken) x Reader

You were from the real world and compared to Barbie world, it was terrible. It wasn’t pink buildings and clean beaches. For you, your reality was anything but. You lived on the streets of Los Angeles. Jumping from bench to bench if you were lucky or the occasional alley way. Your parents had kicked you out the day you turned 18. They had never wanted a child but didn’t want to deal with the legalities of abandonment so treating you as a maid until the day you turned 18 was their next best option.

Today you decided to go visit Venice Beach. It was full of people which meant blending in. At least it was supposed to.

Barbie and Ken had made their way into the real world to figure out her flat feet issue while Ken came to support his supposed “girlfriend”. They had rollerblades in neon rollerblades and flashy outfits, which in your opinion fit them well.

They were going the other direction of you so they didn’t notice how you stared after their retreating figures. A look of admiration sparkled in your usually dull eyes. It was nice, to see more people standing out from the typical style.

But as they were out of eyesight, they were out of mind. Just a brief passing thought as you figured you would never see the random strangers again.

Just to your unimaginable luck, you did.

Ken had made his way back to Barbieland to fill the Kens in on his understanding of patriarchy and horses. When he saw you. You hadn’t seen him yet, just gazing at the waves as they splashed against the shore. People running around with blinding smiles on their faces, surrounded by the people they love. A part of you wished for it but you didn’t even know how it felt.

Ken couldn’t look away, all the feelings of men being in charge went straight out the window as feelings of obsession began to blind his thoughts. He had begun to make his way over to you, his blonde ‘girlfriend’ briefly passed in his mind but he realized how he never truly loved her. He only thought he did because that was all he knew.

You didn’t notice as the blonde man sat down on the bench with you. Your legs pulled to your chest as if to protect yourself.

“Hi.”

You jumped slightly at the unexpected voice coming from your left. You looked on slightly stunned at the sight of one of the people from earlier.

“Hello.” You spoke shyly, you hadn’t had human interaction in awhile. After all the feelings of self doubt flooded your mind from your parents.

Ken couldn’t even speak right as he gazed at you with a look of love to the naked eye. But deep down the root of obsession was growing deep. Wrapping around his heart like a vine.

Once he knocked himself out of it, he was finally able to talk to you. Introducing himself, which you didn’t even find his name odd, after all you were never bought dolls as a child. It made him love you ever more. After all he could be himself. Not a Ken. Just Ken. He felt kenough. (Sorry I had to ;))

You talked for nearly a hour. You had grown comfortable in his presence which was usually hard to accomplish after being mistreated for so long. But a part of you just knew something felt right, and that feeling didn’t happen often.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you off the bench unexpectedly before rushing you guys towards the shops. You just let your new ‘friend’ drag you along because your naively trusted him. You also didn’t have much waiting for you back at the beach. He stopped at a stand that was selling traded in clothes, shoes, bikes, etc…

“What size rollerblade are you?” He question as he found a couple of rollerblades. They weren’t neon nor pink but they would make do until he could get you some in Barbieland.

“Uh rollerblade?”

“Yes. What size?”

“I don’t know I’ve never rollerbladed.”

Ken had a look of astonishment on his face before looking down are your shoe covered feet and took a estimation before grabbing a dark purple pair and running off. The shop manager yelling curses as you two left out of sight.

“What was that?!” You yelled nervously. You couldn’t afford to be arrested. Ken looked calm as ever as he led you to a bench and traded out your shoes for the blades. Once he finished he put his on and helped you stand up.

“What are we even doing Ken?”

“We are going back to Barbieland.” You looked at him in disbelief as if he would suddenly break out laughing but the urge to get you there before you could leave him was overwhelming.

You wanted to protest but the idea of falling and possibly injuring yourself with zero hope of medical insurance, you didn’t have many options. He led you off into a little area where suddenly you weren’t rollerblading. You were on a snowmobile. Then a bike. A rocket ship. A motor home where he had made you both s’mores. Well plastic ones but the flavor still melted onto your tongue and your stomach felt almost sick after two of the treats. Then finally a boat and a car. You saw the giant sign approaching, not realizing this would be the last time you would see this sign. After all, you weren’t leaving anytime soon.

Meanwhile after Barbie had fled from Mattel with Gloria and Sasha they were just about to approach the beach.

Ken didn’t exactly know where to bring you. But as he drove you into town he saw the way everyone’s eyes lingered after the car. More specifically after you. You were silent most of the trip but couldn’t help letting out silent awe’s at the world around you. Followed by a self-conscious feeling. After all you were not the most put together person and all of these people don’t have a hair out of place.

Ken brought you to Barbies Dreamhouse and told you to wait as he opened the door for you like a gentlemen. He never even did it before, but the thoughts came naturally.

“Wow.” You said quietly as he led you into the house and up the stairs. It was the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen. But a part of you was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like going back to LA.

“I’ll bring you some clothes if you want to go to the shower. Not saying you look dirty or anything I just thought-“ he was cut off by your giggle as he looked at you with embarrassment.

“It’s okay Ken. I would really like to freshen up. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Of course!” He forgot all about his rant as he ran to go get clothes and you quickly hopped into the shower before he could return. No water came out of the shower head like you expected but you were getting clean nonetheless.

Meanwhile Ken picked out one of his favorite outfits and set it near the shower. The urge to look was overruled by his feeling of protection over the innocent person.

Barbie and the two humans weren’t faced with the volleyball court of boys and female cheerleaders. It was all the same as when she left. She gladly pointed everything out and talked about the amazing world and she was able to back it up with the wonderful sights. They were even able to see the President.

Pulling up to her dreamhouse she saw another car outside which was presumably Ken’s. She held back a sigh before getting out of the car. She led the women in behind her. But what she wasn’t expecting was to see another human standing beside Ken. Barbie noticed they were wearing her clothes but didn’t mind all that much after seeing how they looked on you. Kens arm wrapped around your waist in case of a bad reaction but Barbies eyes gained a similar look as Kens earlier. The feeling of obsession and love competing with one another before mixing into one.

They shared a look of understanding which didn’t go unnoticed to Gloria and Sasha, after all they were quite adverse in the real world.

The three humans had no idea that you would never be leaving Barbieworld again.

But then again… what did you have to lose?

Barbie set up Gloria and Sasha with a house a few away from hers. It was a discontinued house so nobody was currently living in it. She left them to settle in for the next few days, or shorter depending on how long she could stand having a distraction from you. After all she began to feel her heels lift whenever she saw you.

Barbie and Ken talked with you for a few hours, answering all your questions without any distain until it began to grow late. They promised to answer more of your questions tomorrow. Secretly happy they had a reason to cut you off as they felt the question of leaving approaching. Barbie got you some pajamas and before you knew it the there of you were laying in a heart shaped bed. One of the dolls on either side or you.

They both had a arm wrapped around you, leaning you feeling trapped but as you laid there the feeling of being trapped faded into safety.

Once you fell asleep the blondes placed a loving kiss on your lips, just lightly enough not to wake you up even though they could only wish for now to feel it be reciprocated as nature feelings blossomed.

Everyone in Barbieland questioned who you were after you had left with Ken, soon followed by staying with Barbie. But they couldn’t feel themselves being opposed to it, after all you looked so adorable!

So I guess your there to stay huh?

[tangirlisfangirl]

sorry for the brainrot but the yandere (k)energy coming from ryan gosling’s ken is INSANE, like could you imagine being his barbie??

he only has a good day when you notice him. you’re his everything. he’s nothing without you. he was created for you. he only exists within the warmth of your gaze. he’d ruin your entire life and rip away everything you held dear just to get you to notice him, acknowledge him, love him the way he loves you, please…

please?

[perfectlovevn]

Happy April Fools??

[pitot-0]

Another shitpostt wahooo hwhhahhahwhwh I enjoyed making this

I also can’t draw cats or any other animals properly :’]

Eris starring as the cat!

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Ryan Erzahler (6/6)

Word count ; 3.0k

Ryan blinked, still taking everything. “Is… everyone else… alive?”

“I don’t know… How are you feeling?” I suddenly asked, pressing my hand to his forehead.

He almost flinched, as though afraid of himself. However, he felt fine, much to my glee. He still had a firm frown on his face, dark, chocolate orbs swarming with discontent. He leaned into my hand though, and feeling less on edge, brought it down to his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

We stared at each other for a while, taking comfort in both of us being alive. I heard distant gunshots, but that didn’t matter right now. Hell, as long as Ryan was safe, all the death and destruction was worth it to me. I withdrew my hand, eyes scanning his chest as the embarrassing realization dawned on me once more.

“So… about those showers…”

About a half an hour later, I was wrapped up in several towels and Ryan had done the same. We were sitting next to each other on the shower room bench, completely traumatized from the things I had experienced and he hadn’t. It was quiet, and silence had fallen over the entire camp. I couldn’t help but wonder if we should go back to the lodge, despite our questionable appearances.

We were both leaning, our upper bodies perched on our elbows. I was worried the towel could fallout any moment. I wondered if Dylan or Nick or Abby or… Kaitlyn had the car keys. Regardless, though, when Ryan’s hand shyly drifted onto my lap, I placed mine on top of his.

It was on my exposed knee. He wasn’t burning up like before, and yet, his skin was still warm and comforting. I missed when his fingers were long, spindly, and dry. It was nice to for things to have a semblance of normality. If you forgot about everything that happened and instead thought about the moment —

No, you’d think we fucked in the shower stalls. That’s still not normal. Never mind.

I laughed to myself quietly, which made Ryan glance at me questioningly. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just thinking about… how we really look like Jacob and Emma right now. The amount of times I walked in on them both finishing up a shower ‘at the same time’ can’t be counted on two hands.”

Ryan chuckled, a smile lighting up his face. There was a certain dark glow to his cheeks as he got lost in thought, squeezing my hand even tighter. I scooted closer and leaned my head on his shoulder. He welcomed it eagerly, leaning his head against mine. It was a cold night, but just his presence enough warmed me.

“It’s almost, uh, funny,” I mused,” that at the start of the night, all I had to worry about was me pissing you off.”

I heard his lips pop, which made me grin. He hummed, nodding sarcastically. “That, uh… must’ve been the, um, werewolf talking.”

I giggled, slapping his bare chest playfully. “I’m sure it was. That explains why you kissed me, and why people have always teased you, and…”

“I… I’m sorry. About the way I acted. I remember I was in the lodge in a bed. I don’t remember much, but… I know I said some, uh, fucked up things.”

“Again, Ryan, it was just the infection —“

“But what if it wasn’t?” he begrudgingly admitted.

“I… I mean, I was still pissed about truth or dare, and you didn’t even tell me you liked me back, a - and… I just hope Dylan’s, uh, still kicking. He deserves an apology… I shouldn’t have been so jealous. I was just… angry, and sick, and scared, and… I, uh, didn’t mean…”

“That’s not important anymore, Ry,” I comforted, lifting my head to nuzzle my nose against his neck. I leaned in further, placed a long-held kiss on his cheek before pulling away. “I’m just glad to have you back.”

He squeezed my hand and gulped. He furrowed his brows, and his eyes became watery. I sighed quietly and pulled. My hand out of his. He naturally chased it, but instead, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and sat up just enough so I could pull him into me. He leaned into it eagerly, and I wrapped my other hand around the front. I held him there, quietly shushing and whispering soft words to him as I pet his frizzy, curly hair.

His shoulders trembled with silent sobs, and he immediately went to pull me closer, an arm wrapping around my torso. We held each other close. His tears dripped onto my exposed shoulders. Despite everything that happened, I was happy. I felt tender. If only to have Ryan safe and alive, I would do anything. And here he was, my best friend, safe and alive.

We stayed like that for a while. At some point, I might have gotten a small nap. I was so spaced out it was hard to tell. But, eventually, when Ryan was calm and dazed, having buried his head in the crook of my neck, I knew e’d have to rejoin the group or at least try to get some clothes. I was cold. And I had no doubt Ryan was, too.

“Ryan?” I whispered quietly, patting his shoulder.

He groaned, breath fanning over my shoulder. He barely moved, his hands grasping my towel-covered torso tighter.

“We… need to regroup. We have to get into the van or something… You’ll catch a cold at this rate, Ry.”

He sighed and finally sat up. A frown stretched across his lips. “But… what if it isn’t safe?”

“We haven’t heard gunshots in… hours, I think. There’s been no disturbances or anything. At the bare minimum, we should make sure our friends are alive.”

“Yeah. That sounds, uh, cool.”

As I stood, I clutched the towel. I went to wrap another one as a skirt for extra protection. My shoes were already fucked, so I didn’t care about them. Ryan just waited for me, lingering by the shower room doorway. I finally walked over to him, shivers rolling down my spine. The moment we stepped outside, it was an immediate and abrupt change in temperature. It was far colder than it had been earlier. 

However, Ryan grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. I was grateful for the affection as we walked along the grass. Sometime there were sharp rocks, but the path was generally clear. The full moon was still high in the sky. The campground was silent, though, and that is what mattered.

The moon was starting to set. The sky wasn’t as pitch black as before. We arrived at the lodge. It was dark and silent inside. We walked up the stairs hand in hand and walked up to the open door. 

A quiet gasp of joy escaped when I saw that, sitting at one of the cafeteria tables, was our friends. The three hopped to their feet. Nick went for the gun right away, cocking and pointing. Dylan shouted right away, and everything peaceful about the scene turned to fright.

Ryan pushed me behind him, scowling deeply. “The fuck, dude?”

“Hey, Nick, put the gun down —“

Abby was quivering behind Nick as he died it at Ryan. “How do we know you’re really Ryan? I - I mean, you were freaking out and - and… why are you both naked?”

I gulped, not letting Ryan bite back. He was clearly frightened and on edge and offended.  I raised my arms in surrender. “Nick. I… met up with Laura Kearney. She’s been held captive by the Hacketts, who are the real werewolves.” I realized I’d left that part of the story out for Ryan’s sake, and he looked hurt. “When she killed Chris or the werewolf that bit him, h - he… became normal again.”

“And, uh, to quote Y/n - my clothes ‘exploded off me’ when I turned. I don’t even remember what happened. I swear.”

Nick lowered the gun, since Dylan forced it down. He was still missing a hand and looked incredibly nervous. “Uh, you’re sure it’s all, like, good now? And seriously, why are you naked, Y/n?”

I tilted my head, glaring at my himbo friend. “You literally have my shirt wrapped around your arm, dude. And I’ve been attacked the whole night. I prefer a nice, fluffy towel to blood-soaked underwear.”

He grinned. “Oh, right.”

Nick cleared his throat, setting the gun down with a clatter. Abby was still taken aback by the turn of events. “…H - how do we know that you don’t remember anything? You’re close with the Hacketts. W - who’s to say you’re not in on it?”

Ryan frowned, throwing a steady glare her way. “You think I wanted to kill people? To… turn into whatever the fuck I did? Chris never told me anything okay —?”

“How do we know?” Nick backed up, wrapping an arm around the petite girl. “I mean, who’s to say you weren’t conscious? You were quick to tear poor Kaitlyn and that stranger to shoes, but somehow, Y/n’s alive, even though you’ve been chasing her the past two hours!”

“What the hell are you getting at, Nick?” I retorted as Ryan protectively pulled me to his side. They were spewing absolute blasphemy. Ryan was as clueless about the situation as the rest of us. Shouldn’t they be glad that he’s alive to begin with? I eagerly wrapped my arms around his bare torso.

“I’m saying he’s in on it. Abby’s right,” Nick insisted, grabbing the gun again. “Don’t pretend you don’t know how he feels about you, Y/n —“

“Enough, enough!” Dylan shouted. “God, can we stop acting like children He’s obviously fine now. Just be happy he’s normal and that Y/n’s alive. It’s obvious that when he was a fucking werewolf, he wasn’t himself. We shouldn’t, like, be turning on each other. Ryan’s a good guy.”

“Fuck this,” Ryan grumbled. “I just wanted to, uh, get the van open so we could, you know, put on clothes, but apparently that’s too much to ask for —“

“You want the van keys? Here, take them,” Nick aggressively agreed, fishing through his pockets and tossing the keys our way.

“Guys, guys, can we just relax —“

“How can you be all relaxed? He’s literally tried to kill you! Before he even turned, mind you —!”

“He was in the middle of turning, dumbass!” I shouted, snatching up the car keys. “You know what, fuck this. We’re out.”

Ryan had no objections. Dylan was still scolding our friends for being so paranoid. I understood. Nothing made sense. But I knew dan well it wasn’t Ryan that killed Kaitlyn. That wanted to kill Dylan or anyone else. And I wanted to chill out. Dylan was right; this was no time to be turning on each other.

Ryan was still cussing anxiously under his breath. He didn’t have to say anything for me to know he was worried about Nick or Abby following after us with a gun. They wouldn’t, but that kind’t mean he wasn’t scared shitless. We opened up the bag and dug through Emma’s dozens of backpacks and suitcases. We finally found ours, somehow buried at the bottom.

I had to readjust the towel may times because they didn’t really work as sustainable clothes. I pulled out some underwear and clothes. Ryan had already disappeared into the wilderness. Apparently we both only had one pair of shoes and they were gone, so socks had to do for the meantime.

We finally emerged. The moon had almost disappeared from view and the sky was a lighter color. Ryan was calmer, at least, and if he was calm, I was too. It may have been a traumatizing night that I’d already repressed, but we’d both emerged victorious and unscathed.

“So… what now?”

I opened and then closed my mouth. I repeated the process as Ryan’s eyes bore into me expectantly. I had no idea what happened to his phone, but…

I reached into the back seat of the van. It fell out of my pocket yesterday afternoon. Lucky me, because otherwise it would’ve been demolished or lost or both. I pulled it out and waved it. I wasn’t quite as obsessed with Bizarre Yet Bonafide, but I had a few of his favorite recordings just in case his phone died.

I never thought it’d come in handy, and yet here we were.

“What? I, uh, didn’t realize you were as much as a nerd as I was,” Ryan chuckled, standing beside me eagerly.

“I’m not, but you sure as hell are!” I chirped eagerly. “I don’t have any earbuds, but… I’m pretty sure we don’t need them anyways.”

Ryan nodded, swinging an arm around my shoulder. We walked toward the lodge, but instead of entering, we sat at one of the base steps. The sun was rising. We were safe now. Shelter wasn’t necessary.

I leaned on hi shoulder as the podcast started. It was the episode of the Hag of Hackett’s Quarry. I would’ve skipped to where we left off, but I knew it’d be a long morning. Besides, Ryan already knew it like the back of his hand. I could tell from his humored chuckles.

He held me close against him, placing his head on top of mine. The recording echoed across the open space. It was… almost peaceful to watch the sunrise while knowing we’d escaped almost imminent death. We were both smiling, and I knew that his heart was pounding just as fast as mine.

Things would be okay.

Sometimes, I heard talking from inside the lodge, but it was muffled and angry and depressed and everything bad. But we were alive and that was enough for us. It truly did take a life-or-death situation to make me realize how special my friendship - and potentially more - with Ryan truly meant.

“Hey, Ryan?” I spoke up, even though my eyes were slowly fluttering shut.

He grunted in acknowledgement, just as exhausted.

“I love you. No matter what happens today… Just remember that.”

“I love you too. But, uh, you already know that…”

I laughed, feeling him tense up in embarrassment.I reached over and grabbed his hand, intertwining our finger. I gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Good.”

[shrimp-boba]

Used a translator.

I wanted to give Eris a golden apple! If Milo gets a golden apple, he'll give it to Eris without hesitation, right? (If I get a golden apple, I'll give it to Eris just like Milo.Haha.)

But i think there's already a golden apple in the game. Ryan is the golden apple of Eris. He's the beginning of the conflict…

[yandere-wishes]

He's Just Ken

Summary: You're just Barbie, perfect on the outside, dead on the inside. He's just Ken, neither perfect on the outside nor on the inside. 

Author's note: I condone neither patriarchy nor matriarchy. But I do love exploring different forms of mental exhaustion and extreme emotional dependency.

Warnings: Mental abuse, dark mental headspace, mentions of suicide and self-harm (only if you read between the lines), yandere behavior, yandere Ken, 

Not every Barbie has a Ken. Not one for herself anyway. Every Barbie knows a Ken, but that Ken most likely belongs to her friend, or her neighbor, or one of the other Barbies. Not every Barbie has a Ken, but every Barbie knows a Ken. You know one too, one with sandy hair and ocean eyes. And a look that longs for something more. You know a Ken who keeps his heart from breaking by crossing his fingers and praying to the Malibu sun. You know a Ken who's only happy if a certain Barbie looks his way. Or rather you knew. This was before the world fell apart. This was before he destroyed it. 

Ken returned without Barbie and the universe began to crack. It's fine you thought. It's fine you hoped. Ken -That Ken, the one who waited on the beach for hours on end until his Barbie walked by- returned from the real world preaching sermons on how the Kens were better, superior, the rightful rulers of Barbieland. How they didn't need the Barbies, how they no longer needed to settle for being treated as anything less than perfect. How they needn't be number two any longer. Ken returned without Barbie and the universe wept. 

You've always known the real world was a messed up place. It had become evident when the thoughts started to creep in. That was years ago-albeit you'll admit you have no idea if Barbie years and human years aligned- years since you started to feel like a constant failure. Years since that harrowing voice began screeching endless dreadful thoughts into your cranium. Notions that festered your mind and heart, tiny maggots that chewed away at your soul. There was always something wrong and it was somehow always your fault. Then came the pain. Horizontal pangs that shot across your arm. Always in the same spot, always in a cluster of three. Barbies don't feel pain as intensely as humans, at least they're not supposed to. 

 You worried for your human back then. You truly did. But you were always too scared to leave Barbieland. Never brave enough to go find her. She's fine you hope...you doubt it though. 

You also refused to go see Weird Barbie. Too scared of being labeled as anything less than perfect. So long as these thoughts merely remained inside you and no outward defects began to show, you would be fine. You could just pretend like everything was as perfect as it always had been. 

Ken came back from the real world unscratched. Yet his words hit a chord within every other Ken. They began to take over. The Barbies were reduced to accessories. Pretty little things that clung to their lovers. Dressed in short skirts and maid outfits. Turned into what they weren't. 

Ken destroyed what once was perfect. Yet all you could think as you watch the pillars of your homeland cripple and your friends descend into madness. Was how utterly beautiful he was.

The world turned upside down. 

Barbieland fell.

Kendome rose. 

And yet as everything the Barbies had worked all so hard to build came crumbling down. As your friends and neighbors began to lose themselves and submit to a tyrannical patriarchy. You found yourself utterly unaltered. Your world had been destroyed long ago. This was just another calamity that you would fake your way through. It would be easy, a lifetime of practice finally paying off. Stay quiet, stay in the shadows, no one would notice.

No one was supposed to notice...

Ken found you on the beach one night. A day or two after the hostile Ken takeover. He walked up behind you out of breath as if he'd been running. 

The bonfire crackles, a warning, and a love song. Until now you'd only ever existed in his sideview. An afterthought as he impaled his heart and called it love. You had burned yourself in his rays and called it love. You're convinced neither of you knows what love truly is. The moon's rays dance as you two sit side by side. In the distance, you see Blue Mermaid Barbie and Mermaid Ken share a tender kiss. An unparalleled sight. 

Ken sits next to you. Eyes following your every move. Scanning every dip and curve of your plastic corpse. He's just Ken you remind yourself with an uneasy breath. He's just Ken, nothing to fear. Although you're not entirely sure if those old ideologies shine through. He's Ken but somehow he's become unstable at worst, flammable at best. Something radioactive ticks inside of him waiting to detonate. Waiting to make the world feel a trace of his pain. 

Ken's fingers intertwine with yours as waves of helplessness crash across your body. You were created to be ethereal yet all you see is perfection molded in the shape of Ken's face. He leans in, carelessly placing his chin in the subspace of your neck as he whispers. "I see the way you look at me" his warm breath tickles the shell of your ear. You flinch, in time with the breaking of the waves. "I know you want me" Reality blurs when Ken touches you. He pulls you between his legs as his lips kiss the back of your neck. His fingers run up and down your arm as if he's trying to memorize your shape, your soul, you. It's romantic you think but all you feel is puka shell shards stabbing your flesh. You know he's dreamed of this intimacy with the other Barbie. 

you wonder if in his eyes you are merely a ghost. One he resurrected with desperate love and a broken heart. You wonder if he sees her, feels her, wants her. Yet he'll settle for you. The next best thing. The other stereotypical Barbie. Somewhere along the line, your own voice sounds, foreign to you. He's talking, his voice is smooth like silk. Fragile like window glass after a bombing. He asks you something, something you've dreamed of for all so long. He asks you to be his bride wife. You agree despite how degrading it sounds. 

What once was a pink haven of fun and joy has now been turned into a mess of horses and black sunglasses. Barbie's dreamhouse is now Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House. You feel like an intruder, like a traitor. You feel loved, wanted, needed. Someone once told you that truths can co-exist. It's all you can think to save yourself from going mad. 

There's an unspoken easiness that comes with being with Ken. The way he's always around. His hands never leave you, tracing stars on your arms, running through your hair. He wants his presence to be felt. 

"I like this" you confess one night as you rest your head on his arm. "I've always felt...less than perfect. Like I couldn't be good at anything like the other Barbies." Ken laughs and it feels like the stars have cladded you in their warmth. He pinches your nose with a soft smile. "I know the feeling," he mutters and you feel your heart crack. "But you don't have to worry about that. I'm here and so long as you're with me. We're both going to be perfect." You snuggle into his chest as you close your eyes. "Ken and Barbie" you sing, a mantra, a prayer. One for a better future. One for a happy life. 

You have a dream house. Had one at least. You sometimes wonder which Ken lives there now. You wonder if his Barbie feels your presence radiating off the walls and the floor and the heart-shaped night lamp you once treasured. You certainly feel Stereotypical Barbie's presence echoing from every corner. You see her ghost whenever Ken pulls you onto his lap to watch a horse flick. Infuriated and distressed. You wonder if she's angry because you didn't join the rebellion. You wonder if she's angry because she thinks you took Ken away. You see her ghost again, feel her between the pause of two breaths. She glitches and fades as you hide your face in Ken's mink coat. 

"I don't like being apart from you" Ken claims as he lays your body on top of his. One hand dangling off the couch the other curling your loose locks. To Ken a touch away feels like being galaxies apart. You kiss his chin and his cheek and his nose and finally his lips. It feels like a dream. One you refuse to wake up from. 

Ken is gold.

Unmetable and solid.A kaleidoscope of hope

He has so much potential rotting inside of him.

Ken is gold.

Beautiful and everlasting.

His value lies in how pretty he is. How good of an accessory he's willing to be. 

You wonder if he's sick of being gold. 

You felt Barbie's ghost again today. This time looming and aggravated. She wants her presence acknowledged. She has something she needs to say. Ken was out, one of the rare times you two spend apart. Something about a beach off and rock paper scissors. 

You wonder if a ghost haunting is their way of showing love. 

You wonder if the Kens starting a rebellion is their way of showing love. 

Barbie talks for ten minutes straight. You cling to every word, you forgot how much you missed the Other Barbie's voice. It's in the final beat of her sentence that you notice she's not a ghost. Not this time. This is Barbie, the girl who had been your friend since the day you left your box. "Help me" she pleads as she grabs your shoulders. "We need to fix this", you turn your head and smile a broken smile. "I can't" you confess. 

It's easy to undo brainwashing. Even easier to reinstate it. What Stereotypical Barbie and her friends can undo. You can simply redo. Even Barbies prefer ease, a few simple half-truths sung into the right ear at the right time. And the once normalized Barbies are running back to their Kens. You turn, in the rays of the golden sun, you see Barbie. Her eyes hold glimmers of unshed tears. She wears her betrayal on her pink sleeve. "Why" she whispers as her fingers reach out to hover over your heart before she retracts them. You think you may have burned her. You think she's afraid of being plagued by your depravity.

You feel like a traitor, like a monster. A creature made of pink lipgloss and shattered vows. should Kendom fall, you know your delicate dream life will fall with it. You stare into her eyes. And the words that leave your mouth feel so rehearsed, yet you swear it's the first time you've uttered them. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you both when you went through hell. I'm sorry I wasn't there when the world collapsed and you ran from the debris. I'm sorry I can't help you pick up the pieces and rebuild what once was yours.., ours. I'm sorry I'm so selfish". 

Immortal hearts are cursed with the loneliest beats. Maybe that's why the other Barbies never bothered to ponder their endless existence. Maybe that's why the Kens always clung to false promises of love. Maybe saying I love you is the same as saying I'm letting you go. Stereotypical Barbie has already reached this conclusion, you know this. For a fraction of a juncture, she looks into your eyes. Trying to reason and plea and hope all in the same breath. When you say nothing more her eyes shine with grief as she turns on her heels and runs for the hilled house. You reach out to her, yet only grasp the warm Malibu breeze. 

What do you call a person such as yourself? 

Coward...

That sounds about right. 

Ken kisses your neck, and it feels like lava sprinkling along your skin. You feel like a defeated soldier drowning in a sea of guilt. Survivor's guilt a voice echo inside your head familiar yet all so distant. A ghost from a past life or a current one unseeable to you. "I have it too" the voice replies. You wonder if it's the voice of an angel or a mortal girl. You don't tell him about the Barbie resistance or how easily they can reverse the brainwashing. You work best alone anyway. 

You hear the word death replay in the background as Ken bites a sensitive spot. A faint noise, a haunting whisper. You hear the word death and it sounds more familiar than the name Barbie that has rolled off your tongue every day since birth. 

Ken harbors you inside the once was dreamhouse like a forbidden secret. Sometimes the skirts feel too short. Sometimes the world feels too heavy. You always feel the eyes of the other Kens on you. You think Ken planned it that way to show the Ken world who you belong to. Just last week he took you to the beach. Both of you wearing matching pastel blues and silver earrings. Other Ken was there also adorned in pastel blue and silver earrings. You see the twitch in your Ken's jaw, the icy glare when Other Ken waves to you. "Let's go," he says, commandes really. He throws you over his shoulder and you're heading back the way you came. "I really wanted to see Mermaid Barbie..." You pout. "No no, you wanted to see a movie remember?" Ken corrects you, to be honest, he does that often. You're starting to doubt you even know your own wants anymore. 

Today Ken has you dressed in a pink and white dress. You remember Setrotypical Barbie use to love this dress. You run around the kitchen cooking a pretend dinner. You really want to go shipping, to pick out something you'd like. A rose pink Lolita skirt and a matching button-up. You really want to die. Although that's normal you always want to go shopping. You always want to die. You wonder if Ken will ever let you pick out your own dresses. You leave his plate in front of him as you loop your arms around his neck. You rest your chin on his head as he pulls you closer. Not picking your own clothes is a small price to pay for the intimacy you've craved for far too long. 

"Never has there ever been a girl as pretty" Ken whispers as he relishes in your presence. 

"Do you have any idea what you are?" He rasps, his lips hovering over yours. You're both sitting on the bed, watching the sun die for the day. 

Ken is a monster. At least that's what you're supposed to think. You have something in your mind something that squirmes around in what can only be described as reason. To call it wits and a conscious would be an overstatement. Lucide is a better word. Weak and brittle yet somehow still standing. Deep inside, your heart refuses to call Ken anything other than hero, savior, salvation. 

"I'm yours" it's the first truth that's left your mouth in a long long time. You cup his cheeks and kiss him with all the doom and gratitude that lies within you. And Wow Ken tastes like mint ice cream and shooting stars. Like dead dreams that lay on the tip of your tongue. He's the beach at night and the evermore gardens during the day. He's everything good and confusing and painful and sweet. Ken nibbles your ear, playfully, and coos sweet words into your soul. Spinning tales of how you'll be together forever. You soak in his presence, rolling his name around in your head. You keep your head filled with him before your own thoughts give you a heart attack. 

You're Barbie but now you are so much more than that. You're his Barbie. Ken's Barbie. Damaged yet simultaneously perfect. And he's perfect too, mesmerizing when the sun's rouge rays kiss his pretty face, bathing him in golden ichor.

You wonder if perfection and imperfection have always been in love. 

 Sometimes in the dead of night, you think of the little girl playing with you. Albit she isn't a little girl anymore, is she? Kids grow up. clawing and biting through the painful transformation. Sometimes it leaves their minds fragmented. Sometimes it leaves them less than whole. 

Judging by how long it's been, your little girl is grown up by now. You close your eyes and give Ken a final kiss before sleep overtakes you. You hope she's okay, even though you know that can never be true. Being "okay" doesn't seem to be a real thing in this universe. 

Because girls are broken and the universe knows this 

Because boys are broken and the universe knows this 

Because the universe does nothing. Just sits there and watches as life bends and breaks itself over and over again

Barbieland is broken too, imperfect and destroyed.

And so are the two of you. 

Yet in the end, it doesn't matter. 

For as broken as the world is the most important of things has been resolved. 

Ken has his Barbie.

And Barbie has her Ken. 

[theplacesaysstuff]

    ᐢ⑅ᐢ

꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱

./づ~ ♡

[reareaotaku]

Yandere!Ken showing off to Barbie!Reader and letting his guard down only to end up being embarrassed (for something that happened, maybe when Barbie! reader tried to outsmart him) and becoming extra dark and possessive after that!!!

My first Barbie Movie REQUEST!!! [I went a little off track ngl]

Red Faced Loser

Yandere! Ryan! Ken x Fem! Reader Tw: Possessive/Obsessive Ken & Slight Misogyny !!YANDERE THEMES! READ AT OWN RISK!!

Honestly, Ken was always embarrassing himself, but he never felt embarrassed because you never made him feel like that. He could fall on his face or hurt himself or say something stupid and you wouldn't make a fool out of him. Though this time was different.

"Well, women shouldn't be in positions on power-"

"Excuse me?" You turned towards Ken, confused. "Where did that come from."

"Well in the real world-"

"This isn't the real world, it's Barbieland."

"Yeah, about that, um, we're actually changing the name."

"What do you mean? Who's we?"

The other Kens were starting to watch you both argue. Ken could feel his cheeks redden as they watched and you poked his insecurities and inferiority. He didn't want the other Kens to think he was weak.

"Can we not do this here?"

"Do what? We're just talking. Can I not talk now Ken?"

"That's not what I said, but you'd be a lot hotter if you'd shut up."

Your eyes widen and you could feel your face heat up as the anger rose in you, "Who are you talking to?"

He bops your nose as he says, "You." He chuckles at his joke, not taking you seriously.

"I don't know what happened to you when you went to the real world, but I don't like this you."

He frowns, annoyed at your words, "I've changed for the better, Baby. You should get used to it."

"How could you do this Ken? I thought you loved Barbieland. I thought you loved me."

He caresses your face, "I do love you. But you should realize your place is below me, not above me."

"I hate you," You spit in his face, causing some gasps from the other Kens.

"You're just saying that to hurt me."

"You wish." He grabs your hand and pulls you away from the audience. He pushes you into a room and locks it behind you both, What the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?"

"Are you serious? You're the one who's lost your mind!"

"I haven't lost my mind. I've been enlightened."

"Enlightened?" You laugh, "Yeah right."

He tilts his head, frowning, "You'll see Y/n. Besides there's no escape, even if you did want it."

"What are you saying?"

"You can say you hate me all you want, but that doesn't mean anything, because I know you don't mean it. You still love me," He then bends down to your level, "And even if you don't, you will."

[windrsr]

Henry vs Ryan (Yandere Male OCs) x Gender Neutral Reader

Tw: assault(violence) and character death

Micheal and Ryan Having The Same Darling

•You and Ryan are both test subjects that belong to Micheal. You and Ryan became best friends over time, and you eventually became his number one priority, and his darling. You've both learned how to look after each other and survive, only relying on each other. However, he's not the only one who's taken an interest in you; Micheal has as well, and he's not going to make it easy for the both of you.

•Micheal would sometimes interrupt you and Ryan spending time together. He'll take you somewhere private and ask why are you hanging out with someone like him. Micheal promises he'll even give you something better than Ryan could ever give you, maybe even making you into his assistant since he "likes" you so much. When you would refuse the offer, he would scoff in annoyance, but let you be on your way. Ryan would ask if he did anything to you while looking for any injuries on you.

•Other times, Micheal would purposely take you away for a very long time, trying to get into your head so you can only think about him. He doesn't experiment on you because he wants to get "closer" to you, and so you can't go crying to Ryan about your problems.

•Ryan notices how long you've been gone with Micheal, so would even hide you to try and keep you safe from Micheal, since he likes to interrupt you two spending time together. No matter what, Ryan won't tell him where you are, which pisses Micheal off, causing him to hurt Ryan out of anger and frustration. When you would come out of your hiding place, you would see Ryan with bruises and injuries all over him. He tells you he's alright, and that he'll do anything to protect you.

•Ryan grows more and more protective of you, which makes things difficult for Micheal in a way; he even volunteers to be experimented on for your sake, refuses to let you go, and even warns Micheal not to hurt you, which amuses him. "What could you possibly do to me, Ryan? It's only a matter a time before your time runs out, and my patience with you is running very thin..."

•Micheal would put you both in different laboratories and request Ryan to go some place else if you beg him not to hurt him. If Micheal has you all to himself, he'll treat you as if you were fragile; with gentle touches and reassures you that you're his, and that no one will ever get close to you ever again.

•You won't be able to see Ryan again for a long time at first, but he'll eventually find a way to come back to see you in secret.

•When Micheal finds out about this, the last time you see Ryan is when you find him laying on an experiment bed with a white sheet ontop of him.

•"It's okay, precious. He'll never get in between us ever again." Micheal coos as he strokes your hair and holds you close to his chest, as you mourn the loss of your only and close friend.