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#yandere silent night
theyanderespecialist · 9 months
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12th Day Of Christmas (Late) Yandere Ronald Jones Jr. X Listener (Silent...
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honey-minded-hivemind · 6 months
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🌙Silent Night🦋 AU... Part One:
(Warning: This AU depicts abuse, self-harm, self-mutilation, unhealthy mindsets, guilty platonic yanderes, and platonic yanderes. If this upsets you or is not your cup of tea, do not read. Viewer discretion is advised...)
• They aren't sure when it started. When the others started to dislike them, to get angry with them, to see them as less than them. Maybe it was from the start, when they had optimism and were bright-eyed and were full of love and empathy. Maybe it was when their views didn't align with the others anymore, when they couldn't agree with them no matter what they said was right or just. Maybe it was just their natural way of acting, and they finally snapped and took it out on them. Whatever the case was, they were soon at odds and ends with them, dealing with the contempt and anger of the ones who they thought they could trust.
• Reader knew their beliefs were... looked down on. They knew that the first time they said they didn't hate humans, that they wanted to make peace with them, that something had changed. And it wasn't for the better. Where once they were allowed to join the other kids, now they were ostracized, cast aside. Where the adults used to include them or care about them, they now were mad, snappish, annoyed whenever Reader spoke up or said anything. Not to mention how no one seemed to like them anymore, seemed to try and talk with them, tried to help them or offer aid or smooth over any fears or doubts.
• But it still only grew worse.
• The problem came when they had helped a human out. Reader hadn't even done much, besides put a band-aid on their leg and hidden them, only leading them back out and bringing them somehwhere safer for them than the woods. Except this secret wasn't so secret, and the next thing Reader knew-
• They were locked up, tossed into a cell and chained, left to rot save for when one of the adults came by to... "re-educate"... them.
• Their life hadn't been long, but Reader soon discovered there were worse fates than death. Being hurt, be it by claws or forced fighting or being held down and bruised, was awful. It hurt even more knowing that it was done by people who once claimed to care about them, to want to help them... But whatever this was that they were doing, it wasn't helping. Was it? The bleeding cuts, the bruised limbs, the sore wings from trying to stay aloft, to get away- Their scratched-up hands, the bloodied nails, the blackened spots that bleed under their skin, turning into ugly shades of purple and black... The one thing that felt untouched was their wings, the only parts that didn't ache with slowly being healed by their body, that didn't become scarred up or marred by the hands that grabbed and clawed and hit and forced down...
• Reader didn't know why it wouldn't stop. Didn't know how much longer it would be until something gave. They should have known it would be their wings that would be the breaking point.
• That memory was faded a bit, their mind blocking out some of it, but what they remembered was another forced fight, running as far as they could before they were yanked back, hands grabbing, something creaking-
• SNAP!
• And soon they were wailing, collapsing into themself and trying to hide, to drag their broken wing over them, using their hands to muffle their sobs as they waited for their attacker/s to finish it... But they didn't. They only stopped, then left, leaving Reader on their own and curled up in the farthest corner of the room, doing their best to not move, grasping at the last threads of comfort they had...
• They'd been still for days. Any food or water left had been ignored, Reader not budging an inch to go near it or to do anything else. It didn't matter when someone eventually came in to check on them, or when hands grasped their wing, feeling at the broken bones and slowly bandaging it, setting up a sling. It didn't even matter when they said Reader could go back up with them, could leave for the first time from their personal h*ll... Yet Reader didn't enjoy this new freedom. It wasn't freedom really, was it? They now had to face the ones who wounded them, those who turned their backs on them, who had put them into their own special kind of h*lll, all because they weren't like them... All because they tried to do the right thing, to help someone, even if that person had been a human...
• Reader didn't keep count of how long it took them to gather the nerve to escape. They knew it had been at least two weeks, if not more... The night they chose was quiet, cold and chilled, soft snowfall dusting the sky and leaving a blanket of freezing white on the ground. No one should have been up. No one should have seen them. Reader had crossed past the farthest edges of the property, making it a few feet into the woods, before they heard someone shout far behind them- Then they fled, scrambling over rocks and slippery patches of ice, hurtling over fallen trees and past ice-covered trunks. Ice glinted under the small amount of moonlight, frosted and gleaming, each shard and icicle and flake as cold as death. Even then, it didn't deter them, not even when they reached a ledge, looking out over a frozen lake, a dark mirror reflecting the darkness and cold of the night, and the smallest glint of the moon...
• "Reader... Don't move." Yet even the quiet eventually was broken, by the same people who'd broken them.
• "Get back here... Now."
• Reader shifted slightly, feeling the way the wind pushed at their wings, soft as silk and cold as the snow underfoot. Their foot goes back, then the other. Fear fills them, burning hot and sticky as tar, melting through any resistance they have, setting ablaze their paranoia and terror, which consumes them.
• "Reader. Come back. NOW!"
• Their foot only slides back by a fraction, yet that's all it takes-
• CRACK!
• The ledge crumbles beneath them, sending them down like a comet crashing to earth, their wings splayed in a futile attempt to slow the fall, then liquid night surrounds them, studded with freezing white stars and sharp crystals, bubbles and frothy pink left in their wake...
• The world around them is silent, wrapped up in snow and bathed in milky light when they awake. The wind brushes against them, sending chills through their half-drowned body. Water gurgled up from their lungs, splattering warm liquid and murky silt onto the frosted, rocky dirt. It doesn't take much more to drag themself up, their wings laid crookedly around them like a fallen cloak, and soon they staggered off into the snow-brushed trees, leaving behind nothing more than frozen anguish and freezing memories...
• They make it far enough as they travel those first few weeks, enough so that they stumble into a worn, wet shed, hiding away from the blinding snowstorm that roars and wails around them. The shed doesn't hold any heat, yet they can't force themself to look for better shelter. What they do find are a sharp, large pair of shears, rusted and cold to the touch. And Reader is struck by a thought, which soon turns to a decision-
• If they ever want to live, to hide amongst people and try to survive... their wings can't stay. Their wing that had been broken was even worse than it was before, possibly unfit for flight ever again... And the other/s isn't /aren't much better, worn and bedraggled. Both are heavy weights on them, useless now... So really... why keep them? Their wings won't be able to help them in any way anymore, and if anyone sees them, they're as good as dead. So with those thoughts in mind... they lift the base of their first wing into the mouth of the shears, and with a swift push and wet crunch-
• Their wing falls to the floor, ebony and garnet gore spattering across the floors and walls, their loss soon followed by a sharp scream... And then the next wing is hefted up, and the small world is soon bathed in red...
• When the snowstorm ends, Reader slowly stumbles out, their shirt torn and new gashes in their back, one less burden weighing them down. It doesn't take them more than an hour to find a small cottage, dusty and worn down, yet still cozy and warm from the harsh winds and frozen slush outside. Dusting off the few couches and chairs, Reader soon settles in, dragging blankets and sheets onto one settled by the small fireplace, curling themself up into the dryness and warmth the soft, fuzzy cloths bring...
• And slowly, they settle into the world around them. They gather nuts and rabbits and mushrooms they find over the next few months, slowly building up stock on the edible fungi and nuts, adding soft pelts and fresh fish as well, and take their findings to the snow-locked town beyond the wintery forest. The people don't ask many questions, aren't very open, but they happily accept the fresh food with little grumbling, paying Reader for what they brought. And then they keep doing it, even hunting small deer and foxes and fish for those who weren't able to reach the stores or catch any themselves... So they slowly start to accept Reader. They don't turn them away or charge them extra for food anymore. They start paying them a little extra for the better pelts and larger meats... Reader even manages to make a small business, bringing food to those trapped by snow and ice, being able to sell or barter shells and stones they pick up from a lake nearby...
• Yet after about three years... Their nightmares come back for them.
• Reader doesn't know how they were found, nor how their demons were the ones to find them, yet somehow, someway, they did... People, the ones they hoped they would never see again, who they wished would go far away, to disappear, were at their cottage. The moment they see them, they try and take a step closer... But Reader swiftly turns heel and runs, heading straight into the freezing woods that surround them.
• They don't stop when they hear shouting, nor when the sound of flapping and footsteps echo behind them. Even as their heart picks up speed and their terror burns through their blood, they don't stop. As the snow whips through the woods, sending frozen flakes falling thickly through the branches, they don't slow down. Their feet are swift, their steps unhalted by wings or doubts. Yet their steps are frozen when they something lands on them, sending them both into the chilling snow all around them.
• Reader struggles, trying to push themself up yet being unable. Hands soon press down on them, pinning them to the frozen earth. "Get off!" Reader yells, bucking and biting at whoever has them in their grasp.
• "Kid, stop fightin' me!" shouts a familiar voice, and Reader feels a new sense of dread fill them, sending them into a panicked flurry. "Kid, please, stop strugglin' fer a minute! Yer gonna hurt yerself-"
• Reader kicks out, soon clawing themself out from under their captor... who is one of their old mentors, one of their past abusers... Another one alights into the slurry of sharp white and biting ice, peering at them with sharp eyes. Reader hisses, backing away carefully, not taking their eyes off of either one for a moment... Then they're whirling around in a snow-dusted blur, scrambling past-
• Only to be caught by strong hands, which pull them back into the scuffed clearing.
• "Cub, just calm down fer a minute-! Ya aren't in danger, yer not gonna be hurt, yer safe-" Reader only screeches, wriggling and scratching at the hands keeping them from their escape. "Shhh, i know, I know, this is all scary an' new an' isn't the best way ta go 'bout this, but ya aren't listening to us-" One of the hands touches their back, then freezes. Soon the person holding them goes still, then their hands are tugging at their shirt, trying to get it off.
• "Get off me! Get off!" Reader screams, fighting harder, only for their other past mentor to hold them still. Something cuts through their shirt, tearing the fabric- And then their back is bare, save for the few bandages that cover their upper chest, showing their scars to the world.
• Something touches at their back, tracing one of the scars... and then the grip on then tightens, panic filling the voices of their captors.
• "Sh*t-! Kid, cub, what is this? What happened? Why- why can't I see yer wings- cub, they-they aren't here, where are they-?"
• Reader feels tears filling their eyes, their stomach twisting at being partially naked and unable to break free. "... I don't have them. Now... get off..."
• "Cub, kid, kitten, what do ya mean? Don't- they- they aren't... they weren't..." He trails off, a soft noise rumbling up. Reader feels another soft, cool touch along their scars, followed by a low whine. "No... nonononono..." The arms and hands are soon wrapped around them, upset noises warbling out like a distressed animal. Reader takes that moment to snap, struggling harder. They're dropped, only to be picked back up and held in a firm embrace. "No, no cub, ya can't leave, yer hurt, yer missing yer-" A strangled noise escapes him, but he continues. "We can't leave ya like this, cub, we can't. Now please, please, stop fightin'... please..."
• Reader only fights harder, scratching and snapping and kicking at the hold on them. A wounded noise escapes one of their captors, then in a moment, something sharp sinks into their arm. Reader freezes up.
• "Shhh... don't worry, 'kay? We just need ya ta calm down... It was only a small sedative, cub, just enough to help ya relax a little... That's it, just take deep breaths..."
• Tears trail down Reader's face, a sob pushing past their lips as they struggle further, shoving and clawing as they try to break loose from the firm embrace. That only earns another wounded noise, leaving Reader weakly hissing. Their head starts to feel clouded, their fear being smoothed out to discomfort. Another hand is carding through their hair, leaving them softly whining. Their thoughts keep slipping through, melting from frozen ice to lake water to soft puddles... They hiss one more time, weakly snapping at whoever... whatever... mmmm... something, that holds them... Their face feels cold and wet... Hrrrmmmmph... They feel all soft and cold and chilly an... hhhhhh... They eyes slip shut, their mind muddling further. Everything feels weird... it's all fluffy and wet and cold... but their back is against something warm, and something warm is on their head, aaaaand their head is feeling weird and syrupy and all sweet... Hhhhhmmmm... Heh.... Sweet and syrupy and honey and molasses and bees and...
• With a last tired sigh, Reader slips into unconsciousness, soon relaxing into the hold on them... The two older ferals can't help but wrap their cub up with one of their coats, trying to keep the already-freezing kid warm. The two trudge back through the thick sheets of snow, tracking down the kids who came with them... They find them still as stones, staring at an old, broken-down shed. They come closer, trying to figure out what's scared them... Only to find the remains of bloodied, broken wings, surrounded by blackish stained wood, the heavy scent of iron still clinging to the rotten wood...
• They carefully collect them, carefully comforting the kids and keeping Reader cradled against one of them while the other handles their cub's wings... When they start to head back, they realize they have a lot of healing to do for their cub... This time theyll keep them safe. They'll keep them warm, they'll take care of them, they'll accept what their beliefs- But they aren't letting them go back. They can't leave them alone. They can't risk letting them hurt themself further. They won't hurt them, they won't yell, they'll be soft and gentle, they promise. Maybe they'll have to keep their cub a little tired, enough to not fight them or hurt themself... Yet if it means they'll be able to heal, to feel better... Then it's worth it. They won't fail them again...
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diejager · 1 year
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any thoughts for yandere!pervy!könig who has to resist from fucking you so hard? knowing you're too weak and fragile to ruin, but palming himself through his pants whilst bathing you, or creeping on you as you sleep!!! 🥹
ignore if you want to!! can be somnophillia/noncon if you want 🎀🩷
How exactly am I supposed to ignore this??? This is such a good idea!
Yan!Pervy roommate König x fem!reader
Cw: Perverted König, dub-con, somnophilia, panty sniffing, panty stealer, scent/musk kink, handjob, tell me if I missed any.
He just can’t believe how lucky he got when you answered the ad for a roommate. He knew you were searching for a place to move in, wanting to move out of your parents’ place as a first step into independence and he’d purposely put the ad out a few weeks before you moved. The rate was low, lower than most apartment would cost - even for a old, beaten flat, but his was new and well-maintained - it was his way of silently coaxing you to room with him. König had declined every other, keeping it open until you finally contacted him.
The days between your first interaction and your move in were a blur in his mind, dazed with ecstasy and joy to be have you at an arm’s length. You were so small compared to him - as most people were - and so weak and fragile, limbs a third to his and as strong as a child in his eyes. You were so innocent and untouched, your tight little cunt still a virgin in this age. You were temptation on two legs.
He can’t remember the first time he peeked through the crack of the bathroom door, the glass shower doing nothing to hide your wet, naked skin as he palmed himself, groaning lowly as he fished out his hardened cock. He pumped himself, hand twisting as he reached the swollen head of his cock, thumb pressing against the leaky slit and using his precum as lube, jerking his hardened length more easily. He came at the thought of running his hands on your skin, kissing your collar and biting that beautiful neck, digging his hands into your thighs as he fucked into your small cunt. He hurriedly cleaned up and tucked himself back into his pants, burying the flush on his skin as he waited for you to finish your shower.
After the first month, jerking off while watching you shower wasn’t enough, he humped your cushion when you were out, dragging his drizzly cock over your bed. Face buried in your sheets, he drinks in your scent, that sweet rose and vanilla smell of your shampoo as he rutted into his tight palm, imagining that he was between your warm walls. König could come at the idea of covering you in his musk, your hair smelling like him, you skin tasting like him, you cunt leaking of him. He came so hard that it spurted all over your bed, his cum was on your blanket, on your bedsheet, on your cushion and on your headboard. Fuck, he loved the idea of covering you and your things in his cum.
When coming in his hand to the sight of you in the shower and your empty bed wasn’t enough, he slipped into your room at night, the only sound in your shared appartient being you soft snoring and his laboured breaths. He stroked himself, teasing his throbbing cock with slow pumps and watching your innocent oblivion to his dirty thoughts while you slept. He was crouched over you, his figure looming over your figure when he came, thighs spread wide over your hips and hand clawing your bedsheet besides your head, you warm breath hitting his wrist.
You’d wake up without knowing why you were coated in crusty substance or why you were missing another panty, your pretty, blue lacy panty gone from your drawer. König would be in his room, holding your pretty lace lingerie over his nose, sniffing it while he pumped himself. God, König couldn’t stop himself from covering your underwear in his load before handing it back to you, saying that he found it somewhere in the house. Then you’d wear it, your sweet cunny over the spot he came on, making him purr in satisfaction, a branding on you in the deepest way possible since he couldn’t bully his cock into you just yet.
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youryanderedaddy · 7 months
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can you write gentle yandere taking their darling for the first time vs mean sadistic yandere taking them for the first time?
Btw I love ur work 💖💘💗
tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, sadism, degradation, slut - shaming
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Gentle ~
You know the type of guy I'm talking about. Big and buff, dark - haired, cries a lot. Watches romance movies in his free time and actually calls his mother even outside of the holiday season. Wears slutty little black fitted shirts after working out and brings you smoothies after work. He smiles and blushes. The man is a massive loser with an undying passion for anything nerdy, be it dragons, board games, collecting marks. Who would really expect this poor soul to hurt even a fly?
But he does.
It doesn't happen until months after he's taken you in. Most of the time he's being the perfect gentleman (aside from literally keeping you captive) - he cooks for you, brings you roses and chocolates (even when you throw them away or tear the petals from the flowers), cleans and doesn't make you lift a finger. He reads you poetry until your ears bleed. He tells you he loves you one hundred times a day and seemingly doesn't care about your snorts or the way you roll your eyes and push him away, already so used to your living situation you can't even find it in yourself to be scared. You think he's harmless - as harmless as a lovesick puppy.
But then one night he comes home, an unusual frown on his otherwise soft face. There is a certain type of madness in his hazel eyes. They are still so very soft and adoring, he still sees you as a Goddess in need of worship... but there is also something dark and muddy. Something possessive.
Your captor kisses you on the cheek and that much is granted - he does it every day, along with shouting "Honey, I'm home" at the door. He hugs you - tight. Tighter than ever before, it feels as if the man is trying to crush you in a suffocating embrace, like he wants to swallow you whole within his arms. For the first time you realise just how muscular he is - how much stronger he is. And then he picks you up like a blushing bride and leaves a quick peck on your forehead before taking you to the bedroom and carefully laying you down.
He doesn't give you time to ask questions - as soon as he steps a foot in your shared room, he's already tearing apart his clothes, revealing his ripped form.
"See anything you like, sweetness?" the man asks you, rubbing his hands together as he towers over you, caging you between two beefy arms. You stay silent for a moment, mouth agape at the suddenness of it all - you have never seen him like this. He starts caressing your cheeks and slowly moves down, and that's when it finally settles in your mind. You need to act quickly.
"Stop." you say authoritatively, just like you have done so many times before, praying it would work like it had in the past. But not now. This time he simply shakes his head, a crazed smile playing on his lips as he lowers his head and kisses your neck softly, lovingly. It's terrifying. You're not used to this. You don't know how to react. "Baby, I can't hold it in anymore." Your captor whispers, head resting against your shoulder, voice low and desperate - almost whiny.
"I really tried." he swallows thickly. "I swear. I tried cold showers a-and thinking about bad things but..." he bites his lip, staring at you. You look so small and helpless and, God, he respects you, he really does, but he can't help the way his crotch twitches and his pants tighten as he watches you squirm and tremble, oh-so-small and panicky, defenceless little hands scratching at his arms, but failing to make him budge.
"But every time I come home all pent up and annoyed after dealing with bastards all day, all I want is to bend you over," he continues after moving a lock of your hair out of the way so he can whisper directly into your naked ear. "And fuck-”, he says as he pins your hands to the bed frame, enjoying seeing you wiggle and pant. "The shit-" he can feel your heart beat faster and faster as your whole body gets warmer. It's awfully intimate. "Out of-" he's so excited now that he grabs your hips rather roughly, and ruts against your core, whimpering as his crotch rubs all over your clothed slit. "you".
He growls, now more akin to a lion or a bear than to a human.
He tries to enter you slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you, but the moment your tight velvety walls wrap around his hard throbbing length, he’s reduced to a feral whimpering mess, shoving at you in short sloppy thrusts, completely pussy - drunk. He lasts less than five minutes before he pulls out and cums all over your stomach, watching in fascination as his seed marks you. He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your hushed protests as he murmurs “Mine” over and over again, gripping your hips closer when he feels you pulling away.
Once his brain has cleared enough to be able to think properly he helps you clean up, touching you so gently you wonder if this wild, brutish side he exhibited was all but a dream. But it’s still very much there, barely contained under the surface - and one single moment of freedom and passion is enough to open Pandora's box. 
After that night he feels a lot more comfortable with touching you, for better or worse. 
Mean ~
He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to your ‘new life’ before he basically pounces on you like a predator. To be completely honest, he’s wanted to fuck you within inches of your life since the time he first saw you - the only thing keeping him at bay for a while were the countless pretty pictures he had of you naked and writhing in your own bed in the comfort of your home that all the secret cameras he had installed managed to capture.
Before he used to treat your home footage like his own personal cam - girl show; sometimes he would wait to leave work, jerking all over your face on his screen the moment he gets home. Other times he wasn’t so patient, and he had to sneak off to the restroom any time a thought about you occurred, stroking himself to completion as he blasted his recordings of your quiet moans on his headphones.
But now you’re here in the flesh - the real thing, tied so tight you can’t move an inch, trembling all over just like a bunny caught in a trap by the hunter. He wants you completely immobilised - he’s waited ages for this moment and he wants absolutely no distractions getting in the way of him finally taking his price.
You sob pitifully, your mouth the only part of your body left uncovered, and you try to plead with him desperately. You promise him money, influence, anything he wants - whatever would be able to get you out of this hellish predicament. You even offer to give him a blowjob - which he simply sneers at, grabbing a fistfull of your hair. 
“Oh, doll, the night is still young. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He looks possessed, ready to feast on your flesh. You shiver, curling into yourself as much as possible - but he pulls your legs on both sides of his thighs, his hands seeming grand across your rickety ankles. “You’ll get your chance to choke on this cock soon enough.” He grabs his bulge crudely, massaging it through his thick stained grey pants. “Right now all I want is to see this cute little pussy stretched on my meat and those pretty tits bouncing in the air as I slap them red.”
It really doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, you’re getting brutalised either way - although his comments would be different.
If you’re a virgin, he’s making sure you get the whole of his length in one - there is something terribly amusing about the toe - curling scream you let out as his cock tears you apart, something borderline pornographic in the way your brows twist and your nostrils flare, lips shut tight as to not give him the pleasure of hearing your pain out loud. But it’s obvious, and he wants you to know that he enjoys it through and through - licking your tears and the sweat off your neck, pinching at your thighs, your breasts, your stomach; whatever makes you cry the most. 
If you’re not a virgin, he still finds a way to get his fun out of you. 
“I don’t feel you clenching on me, you little slut.” He smacks your cheek with little force behind it - it’s not meant to hurt you, but to humiliate you and drive his point across. “Did you have a fucking train ran on you? I should have known you’d be a filthy whore.” He bites at your lower lip, pulling at it until he hears you whine pitifully - leaving his mark on you. “Should’a known with these cocksucking lips of yours, and ngh-” He sinks into you, voice breaking once the tip of his dick brushes against your cervix. “And t-those slutty hips, shit, keep squeezing me just like that, n-ngh, I am going to ruin you all over again!”
He fucks you for who knows how long - when he’s finally satisfied, the sun is already up and you’re drenched in sweat and cum. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t ache.
He leaves you there, snickering at the sight of your empty stare fixed on the ceiling - only reaching to untie you and cuff your ankle to the bed frame instead. You weakly raise an eyebrow in question.
“Stay here until I come back, okay?” He grins with malice, caressing your wet matted hair. “Hah, not that you can really go anywhere.”
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acid-ixx · 3 months
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prequel: again &. again. (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)
directory: prequel, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three
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read until the end for an author's note.
what hurts more when it comes to neglectful batfam that adopted you after jason's death (that eventually turns a 360 after you have left) is probably the fact that they always had time for you, it's just that they never chose to spend it on you; an extra burden to their family rather than an addition. if they had time to spend, they spend it on anything or anyone else but you. it's not that you don't share interests with them, it's just...! they have way more priorities that push you further back into their list of 'to do's'; though you know you'll always be the last of that list.
bruce has to juggle so many tasks as the billionaire playboy "brucie wayne", a father of an ever growing family, and gotham's dark knight vigilante but somehow, you're aware he could easily fit in one or two more children into his already booked schedule— he just never seems to consider you worthy enough apparently. or maybe it was because you were too silent, you set boundaries compared to your other family who are outspoken about what they want, what they need— but there's one thing for sure that sets you off from your siblings; you're not a vigilante.
you were merely a child of a one night stand; a child raised too well. you were behaved, you never complained, and you were just, you. and being normal (at least in their level of extraordinary talents were you a mere droplet) amongst a family of talented individuals makes you easily a ghost. was bruce to blame with his neglect? definitely. if he was able to balance his life so easily, then maybe as the world's best detective would he notice you packing your things day by day without update. maybe that was why you never once hesitated the moment you stepped outside the manor, permanently.
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dick's excuse would always be "sorry, baby bird! but i promised to spar with damian today. ah, but you can watch from the sidelines!" or he would be too busy saving bludhaven to even acknowledge your presence. sure, he smiles at you with those shiny teeth of his, but despite him looking at you, he never notices you for more than a second, right after he would skidadle his way to another sibling's room, bothering them to spend more time with him, never you though. it occurs to you that he has only entered your bedroom once, and that occurrence was years ago. even then, he didn't last a minute inside there before running away once more.
family matters more than anything to dick. hell, he was enraged at the announcement of jason's death and even beat joker to a bloody pulp when he realized tim fell into his hands. he's ready to defend damian, barbara, steph, cass, and duke with his life. it's his duty and obligation as the family's eldest brother, of course. but were you considered family to him? were you considered a sibling in his eyes, or were you just the resident roommate of the mansion? you question that endlessly because everyone, family and friends, seem to be smitted with dick, but you eventually gave up trying to vye for his attention. it's fine, really, if you were just another civilian to him, because he was just another person to you too. just like in a circus, you would always be the intermission rather than the main event. and with that, you take your leave.
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jason was the most forgivable to you, second to tim. he was never there, and he would've probably put effort into spending time with you if not for the fact he despises bruce and the mansion and wouldn't and couldn't last a second stepping into it. he never met you when he was robin, it was only right after his death did he discover were you taken in and that added fact alongside tim being his replacement turned him bitter with resentment. though his hatred for you receded over time, he wouldn't really be caught taking a minute with you because he always sneaks inside the mansion and crime in gotham never seems to lessen. because of that, and your unwillingness to become a vigilante to kick ass with him and the others, he wouldn't be able to fully take an hour with you.
casual talks are unavoidable, though, when at the dead of the night he would be caught sneaking in to eat some leftovers and you were conveniently awake at the same time as him. he'll recommend you some classic literature he read or 'cafes/restaurants that criminals visit the least' lists, but before it would turn into a full conversation, jason would already be wearing his signature mask again, and with a pat on your head and a "talk to you soon, can't guarantee it'll be tomorrow again though, only here for alfred's meals of course," and he'll be gone. you shouldn't have let your hopes high, you wished you didn't because, duh! he wasn't there to talk to you, specifically. you were just there to bide his time! wiping tears away from your eyes, and with a heavy heart, you book an apartment away from the wayne manor with your own atm card; hope irreversibly dead and unable to revive a sliver of faith, even if it was dipped in the lazarus pit would it never come back as the same.
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tim drake is always tired. just like bruce, his days are filled with investigation, crime fighting, and worst of all; high school. that's of course that least of his worries the moment he drops out. tim was never the guy to talk much. he only does when he needs to make an impression for others, or when he needs to manipulate people for potential information. his life revolved around fighting, from when he solved the case of bruce wayne and dick grayson being batman and robin respectively, up to his current identity as red robin and occasionally robin. he'll often be found in the batcave working with babs on a case or working alone in his room.
it's no mistake that you were the most distant to him, never once knowing about his interests or even hobbies and vice versa. it was a given that at the very moment you pass a glance at him, you knew it was a 'mind your business' type of relationship with him. if you were a mere ghost to dick, then you were just a spec of dust to tim. it was unfair to assume he would never care for you, he does! only in a way where you were another person to save if you ever were endangered, but would that be enough to stalk you to the point he gains every insight about you? not really. you weren't one of his friends, like kon who he would spend weekly video game challenges with; and you probably don't exist as his sibling in his own little world filled with coffee and computers. yeah, your feelings about leaving him weren't as bitter as the caffeine he drowns in his system, but you were still hurt either way.
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damian wayne, from his birth, was taught and raised to prioritize his mission as an al ghul, to be the one continuing the legacy and to shed blood on anyone who opposes. when he was given over to bruce, it took a hell lot of effort to turn a new page and become the next robin. it was, with no doubt, that despite his 'redemption', he would be a tad bit crueler to you than the others. unlike tim, who he persistently bothers, you were untalented, worthless, and a stain on the reputation of the wayne's. even jason, his father's greatest mistake, had more value than you.
maybe it was fine-tuned jealousy, maybe he was mirroring his father and dick's actions towards you with his own sick twist of violence. either way, you would rather avoid the boy, lest you face the wrath of his sword. it wouldn't be wrong if you came to hate him, actually you do, but despite your endless game of cat and mouse with you as the unwilling victim of the chase, your poor heart couldn't fathom the thought of not excusing his actions as that of a child's. you tell yourself everyday, 'just ignore it, he was raised like as to be a menace after all' but you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together. the resentment eventually builds up until you blow up and just, give up. within your final moments in the manor, you figured to leave some belongings that you collected overtime that were supposedly memorabilias that you wish to show off to your family. like his pieces of art, you could only explain your life in the family as black and white and as bleak as the streaks of charcoal that rubs against the pages.
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when dick was jogging through the desolate halls of the manor, he noticed the place seemed to be more... empty of some sort. and he knows pushing that feeling into the back of his head would only result in more questions than answers. so he decides to enter the spare rooms one by one until he comes across your room (he doesn't know it was yours, though), turning the knob without knocking.
that was when his eyes seem to dilate. his nose catched a faint whiff of bleach (was the room deep-cleaned?), vision seemingly closing in on the few furniture left alongside a diary and other boxes left neatly on your bed, with other smaller trinkets left untouched on your bedside table. he didn't remember you mentioning anything about leaving, hell, he doesn't want to admit his lack of memories about you but—
wait...
didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago...?
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: this is one of my favorite pieces of writing i have ever done and i like it a lot so i hope whoever reads this likes it too. if you all want to read more of this, then please leave a comment or reblog because i heavily appreciate it and it motivates me further to write this type of content! the reason i have come to a long hiatus is because, as stated, the lack of interaction with content. like i said, i will still write for genshin but i am open to expanding my fandom list. (p.s. i hope you like the way i had to connect their interests or a part of their past to the reader.)
heavily inspired by @klemen-tine's work: Glass Bones and Paper Skin, @gotham-daydreams' work: Not [], and @onmyyan's work: Ain't No Sunshine.
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2K notes · View notes
yandere-writer-momo · 7 months
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Author’s note: I am stuck in a slump so I’m going to write a guilty pleasure of mine… the body swap trope except this time, with a twist. And of course with the one that got away trope. I adore it so very much like black cherry ice-cream.
Yandere Head Canons:
The Husband Swap
Yandere Shapeshifter x Married Fem Elf Reader x Neglectful Drow Husband
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TW: yandere content!! Mentions of smut, dubcon, tentacles, monster fucking, size kink, manipulation, voyeurism, oral, and unhealthy relationship.
Art from Veil Manga
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You had been married to your husband, Nikolai Sokolov, for many years. An arranged marriage set up amongst your people as a peace treaty… you, a high elf, wed to a drow, dark elf. And Nikolai was often cold to you… despite how often you attempted to bond with him.
Nikolai refused to eat any of the food you made and he constantly brushed aside your attempts to get to know him. He cared little for this arranged relationship and treated you as if you were some mere commoner, a fact that only made your heart sting.
Nikolai would occasionally share a bed with you, but it was often out of fulfilling his needs. He cared little for your pleasure and only cared to satiate his own.
One day, Nikolai bought you a servant just to get you to leave him alone (outside of sex). A shapeshifter.
A magic collar was bound tightly around their silver neck as a preventative to their ability to shift. They were now powerless and subservient. A trait that most shapeshifters didn’t have since they were quite sly by nature. You wondered what this creature had done to have been reduced to a servant…
Their name was Lev Snegur and they were close in age to you and Nikolai. The shapeshifter was somewhat masculine looking with sharp features and pitch black eyes. A genderless species that never uttered a sound, what wonderful company to have.
You often tried to engage in small talk with them, but they remained as silent as the depth of night. Not a peep left their lips to ever give you input. It unnerved you.
You were very sweet to them and even offered to share meals, but they only stared at you. Talking to Lev was like talking to a brick wall that nodded at times. Lev was an incredibly good listener.
Lev’s company did little to satiate the ache in your heart and the all consuming loneliness. You were so isolated in this empty home filled with bitterness. And you started to accept that you’d never find any warmth with him. Nor would you find solace in your silent servant’s company.
Occasionally you’d wake up covered in a slight sweat, a puddle of dampness below you. The room would always feel of sex, yet you hardly had any of that… but you were always a bit sore between your legs when you’d wake up on mornings like this. Had you been having wet dreams due to your consistent loneliness? Or was there something foul at play?
So it was a surprise when Nikolai bounced into your room like a puppy one morning. His arms wrapped around your side while he inhaled your scent. What on earth was he doing?
“Nikolai?” Nikolai placed a finger on your lips, a mischievous look in his crimson eyes.
“Shh, I have a surprise for you!” Nikolai gave you a bright grin that made you do a double take. You’ve never seen your grumpy husband smile in his entire life. This had to be a dream… you gave yourself a pinch and hissed at the pain you inflicted on your poor arm. Nope. Not a dream.
Nikolai lead you out of the room to where a grand meal was set before you consisting of all of your favorite delicacies. You had no idea your husband even knew you adored such food…
“Do you like it?” His face was hopeful as he took your hand in his. “I’ve come to a realization that you genuinely care for me… so I will treat you better.”
And from that day forth, Nikolai was more attentive than he ever had been. He insisted you should move into his room and he often cuddled with you… it was so odd. This entire situation was bizarre, almost as if this was another person and not your husband.
It was when Nikolai went down on you for the first time that your mind truly began to believe he was another man. When did he learn how to please you and why did he eat you out like a man starved? This wasn’t your husband… this was an imposter.
When ‘Nikolai’ made love to you, he felt bigger. You swore he was nearly two to three inches than he used to be, which made your stomach protrude like you had a baby bump. And his hands ardently grasped at every bit of your body as he could.
It wasn’t too uncommon for you to find your husband sniffing your hair like some sort of animal. You were so scared…
The longer you spent time with ‘Nikolai,’ the more paranoid you became. There were less and less drows around now and your servant was missing… you were starting to become afraid.
But you never were able to get much time to think about it too much since ‘Nikolai’ was always dutifully by your side. There was never any time to ask questions… until tonight. You decided to ask him… for you feared you’d fall off the deep end into insanity if you didn’t.
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“Where’s Lev?” You softly asked Nikolai whose fingers paused their dance over your scalp. His crimson eyes glanced over to your face.
“And why do you care so much about a shifter when your husband is here?” Nikolai asked in a bitter tone, but you could see a bit of excitement in his eye. And it made your heart pulse in your brain.
“Well, I miss Lev.” You softly whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did miss your servant who always listened to you, but you preferred his silent company over the overbearing presence of your changed husband.
“Hmm… well, we can go see him if you’d like.” Nikolai rose up from the bed and wrapped a black robe over his bare chest. “He’s in the dungeon.”
You were a bit shocked by your husband’s words. “What do you mean? Lev never did anything wrong-“
“My wife is too kind for her own good.” Nikolai held your chin to pause you from rambling on even more. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it froze you in place. “It’s what I love most about you.”
You gulped and averted your gaze, your cheeks felt hot.
Lev lead you down the hallway and down the winding stairs to the dungeon, his hand gently held yours. You felt dread creep up into your stomach the closer you went to the dingy dungeon. Your nerves felt as if they were on fire…
And the sight before you terrified you to your core, the angled corpse of Nikolai laid sprawled out on the brick flooring. His lifeless eyes turned toward the door and his mouth agape in a horrific scream forever frozen on his rotting face.
You tried to flee but your ‘Nikolai’ began to shift, slender hands now held you firmly in place while your captor’s face slowly morphed into the bewitching creature named Lev.
“It didn’t take much to overpower him. Your husband was too cocky to notice I figured out how to disarm the collar.” Lev’s voice made your blood run cold from how raspy it was. His voice low and monotonous despite the various emotions that hid beneath the surface of his eyes. “To whack him over the back of the head with a sword hilt and drag him down here. It was child’s play really.”
“Are you going to kill me too?” You whimpered when his grip tightened around your arms. His face filled with concern.
“Kill you? Nonsense, I’d never kill my wife!” Lev began to pepper your face with numerous kisses while his arms snaked around your waist. “I mean it when I say I love you, I love you more than that bastard ever could.”
You try to protest, but you feel something slimy wrap around your legs and give them a squeeze. Your eyes are wide in terror at the black tendrils that snaked around your plush thighs. What on earth?!
“And I can certainly fuck you better than he ever could… I can show you things no other monster could ever show you, so won’t you indulge me? I promise I’ll blow your mind.”
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obsessivevoidkitten · 7 months
Text
Feeding
Male Half-Demon Yandere x Gender Neutral Vampire Reader CW: Noncon, blood drinking, biting/cutting for blood, making out, drugged sex, drugged reader, forced addiction, overstimulation, reader fucked well and truly out of their mind whilst high on demon blood, aftercare, general yandere behavior Word count: 1.6k (Sorry this took forever. The image of reader sitting on dick while sucking blood from a wrist was living rent free in my head and I had to write this. Written on my phone, hopefully I fixed all the weird formatting and typos.)
The full moon shone brightly in the clear winter night. With each exhale, your breath plumed out visibly. The shadows of trees stretched long and spindly, grasping for a material world they were incapable of grabbing hold of. You hid amongst the bushes, silently watching the small bar in front of you. It was a secluded place. Quiet and down the road from anything else. Perfect for a person to grab a drink. Even a vampire like yourself. This was your first night in this town, but there were almost always places like this to slake your thirst. 
Wait for a drunk customer to come stumbling out and nab them to have a drink of your own. Then, if you needed to, use your hypnotic powers to make them think it was all a dream. 
That's what you had intended tonight. But then you caught a whiff of a human that smelled much more tempting than any other you had ever encountered. 
The bartender. Your sharp ears could pick up his name even from outside. Wade. Not that you needed to bother knowing it.
You decided to wait for the last lingering patron to leave the bar before sneaking in and making your move. It took a few hours, and your joints grew stiff in the cold, but finally, the bartender was alone, and you could make your move. You were practically salivating as you slipped into the bar, and his scent hit you more directly. You couldn't wait to taste what waited in his veins. Luckily, you didn't have to. 
"Sorry, we've just closed," he said as he heard you enter.
With superhuman speed, you rushed behind him, barely having time to note the surprised expression on his face. 
You wasted no time on pleasantries and sank your fangs into his neck.
Instantly, you were lost in his flavor. His blood was glorious. But after one drink, your eyes glazed and your thoughts were foggy. 
He plucked you off of him easily, and you fell to the floor, dizzy and confused but yearning for more of him. You were so thirsty. A mild sense of euphoria washed over you, but your body felt weak and wobbly. 
Wade stared down at you, smirking. His brown hair turned silver, small black horns sprouted from his forehead, and his hazel eyes glowed red.
"What's wrong? Bit off more than you could chew?"
Not much blood had been consumed, so you started to get to your feet, but Wade wanted you nice and helpless. He rubbed his fingers to the bite mark you had left and shoved his fingers into your mouth and smeared the drug on your tongue. You immediately slumped against the counter.
He went and locked up the bar before returning to your side and administering another hit of his blood. You eagerly drank it up. It was too irresistible. 
Then he gently led you downstairs where he apparently lived. 
"Didn't realize I was part demon or didn’t know demon blood was like a narcotic? Maybe you didn't know either of those..." 
He tossed you on the bed rather unceremoniously.
"Thought you were gonna get an easy meal, but you're gonna feed me too!"
Assuming that he ate beings with magic, you looked up at him with a horrified expression and scrambled to get off the bed. He stopped you and pushed you back.
"I'm nourished by intoxication and addiction the way sex and lust nourishes an incubus," he explained, having noted the fear on your face.
Though you still had a fierce thirst for his blood, you weren't addicted. Yet. Just significantly increased blood cravings. You had the presence of mind to know what he intended, and you didn't want to be a captive.
"You can't do this!"
The effects of his blood on your body were rapidly wearing off. It had only been a small amount. You could use your speed to zip awa-
"I can do whatever I want to a little leech like you~" 
Wade pinned you on the bed and used the sharp nail of his thumb to slice his wrist before shoving his wrist to your mouth. You tried to turn away and keep your mouth closed, but you could feel the warm blood tingle your lips, and the smell was all-encompassing. Tired of your struggles, he smacked you hard across the cheek. You could have shrugged off a strike from a normal human, but he had demonic strength. As he had anticipated, you cried out in pain. With your mouth open, he jammed his bloody wrist right into your mouth. 
Once a drop had touched your tongue for the third time that night, all your resolve melted away. You relaxed under him and greedily lapped at his wrist. Now that it was in you, you needed more.
As you gave into your dark desires and fed off Wade, he fed off the intoxication and the budding addiction growing inside you. 
But the whole situation had his cock straining painfully in his jeans. 
He maneuvered your clothes off as well as his, but your attention was focused on your meal. You whimpered and grabbed for his arm as he pulled it away to lube up his cock. Just because he was doing this for nourishment didn't mean he couldn't have some fun. Besides, being all cute and needy for his blood made you look far too tempting for the half-demon. 
He pulled you into his lap and slid his thick cock into you.
Wade put his arm up to you so you could suckle from his wrist as he slowly fucked into you. A large demonic cock like Wade's would have stretched and hurt the hole of any human, but you were far more durable. In fact, it felt quite nice. His blood seemed to heighten pleasurable sensations while reducing unpleasant ones.
You moaned softly as you fed.
"That's it, take alllll you want babe. I regenerate faster than you can drink."
It must have been true. His wound had healed and you had to bite his wrist to draw more blood. He didn't seem to mind. 
The demon kissed your neck and sucked it softly as he continued pumping into you. Never too hard to interrupt your meal. 
He kept the slow and considerate pace until you had finished. Blood was smeared all over the lower half of your face, your eyes glossy and half lidded. You were barely cognizant of your surroundings anymore. All you knew was that you felt warm, happy, relaxed and, for the first time since you had turned, alive.
Wade angled your face towards him and kissed you deeply from behind, enjoying the taste of blood from your lips and the rush of energy he got from getting you high. He brushed his tongue against your fangs to draw blood so you could suck it while the two of you made out sloppily. The half-demon broke the kiss, a sanguine string of saliva and blood connected your lips for a moment. Wade hastened the tempo of his thrusts into you as his mind raced over the implications of having you. 
A human would have died from just a drink of demon's blood. That's why he blended each bottle of booze in his bar with but a single drop. Just enough to subconsciously coax humans to crave coming back to his bar and give Wade a bit more intoxication to sustain himself. But he didn't have to hold back with you at all. 
Rapturous moans left your body as your pleasure reached its zenith. Your normally frighteningly pale face was actually flushed.
"You enjoying yourself?" Wade smirked and kept going.
You could only weep silently as the overwhelming sensations from the drug and sex mingled into an overwhelming wave of ecstasy bearing down brutally upon you. 
With supernatural stamina he kept going for hours, he readministered his blood as needed. Every time he made you cum you whimpered. Each orgasm seemed to hold within it a greater and greater threat of throwing you off the brink of sanity and shattering your mind. 
By the end of it, when he had finally had enough after filling you with cum over and over again, you were a shaky drooling mess. His demonic features faded away as he picked you up. Then he took you to the tub and bathed you gently, getting all the dried blood off your face and cleaning up all the semen leaking from your hole. 
"Sorry I had to give you so much. Have to get you hooked on it."
Wade picked you up and wrapped you in a soft towel. You were too out of it to respond.
"The crashes aren't bad though at least. Extreme cravings but no life threatening illness or anything."
He kissed your forehead and tucked you in before getting under the covers and spooning you. 
"You're gonna love it here I promise. All the blood you want. I'm not just keeping you here to feed me, I could see glimpses inside your mind when your inebriation nourished me."
The half-demon ran a hand soothingly up and down your side.
"I know we're compatible lovers. You'll see."
You could hear his words but could just barely process them. 
"B-but.." You protested weakly.
"Hush now. You need to rest."
He put his arm around your waist and held you protectively. It was so much easier to just let sleep claim you than it was to resist.
Wade stayed up far longer though. All the thoughts of the wonderful life you two would share together running through his head and keeping him awake. It would be amazing. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.
He'd treat you so well and make sure his little vampire was always happy. And he'd keep you hopelessly addicted to his blood. You'd be so helpless and dependent on him that you'd simply never be able to escape.
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sh1-n0bu · 2 months
Text
♡︎ 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙! ♡︎
characters: sub!yandere!AFAB!characters x dom!gn!reader
warnings: character uses he/him pronouns but has female genitalia/tcock (words such as pussy, vagina, cunt will be used), character is transmale, reader has you/your pronouns, cock/strap, yandere character, established relationship, protected sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that folks), breeding, creampie, belly bulge, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death and light torture
notes: you can think of any character you want with this fic, i just had a wild thought during a car ride at my vacation. divider from @/cafekitsune
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yandere! husband who has been in love with you since they first met you. what started out as a simple fascination developed into an unhealthy obsession until he finally got the courage to ask you out on an official date
yandere! husband who gets surprised when you accept his ask for a date, sheepishly smiling as you tell him that you found him pretty and had been building up the courage to do the same. who nearly fall into his knees right then and there with sheer nervousness yet also giddiness at your confession, finding the wobbly smile on your face endearing
yandere! husband who gradually built a stable relationship with you over time. there were moments where he thought of just drugging you up and stealing you away to keep you all to himself but he chastised himself for such thoughts when you have been nothing but loyal and honest. he thought of killing those annoying bitches and assholes who tried to hit on you or blatantly flirted with you in front of him, imagining cutting out their tongue and burning their eyes with scolding hot iron only to snap back to the present when your hand wound around his waist, introducing him as your lover excitedly
yandere! husband who got scared when you accidentally walked in while he was changing after a shower, terrified that you will leave him after having seen his top scars and cunt. who could hear his heartbeat in his own ears, rapidly beating like a frightened bird thrown into a cage while he waited your reaction. who try to apologize only to be cut off with your comforting words and accepting hug
yandere! husband who proposed to you first, getting on both of his knees as he presented you the ring in the box. who lets out a sweet laugh when you kneel down in return, showing your own ring that you bought for him
yandere! husband who definitely cried on your wedding, wiping away his tears silently as he turns his back to you, not wanting you to see him in such a weak and vulnerable state. turning back to you with the wet handkerchief still in his hand, who can feel the tears coming back once again as he sees your knowing look and comforting smile
yandere! husband who is happy with your married life. the new adventures of moving into a new house, decorating it to your liking and modifying your rooms being an exciting life for him. he loved the moments where you two put paint of each other’s faces instead of painting the walls, choosing the colors on complete random with an eeny, meeny, mini, mo game, dancing with you bare feet in the kitchen as you both wait for the water to boil for the cup ramen at midnight. he would want to hold your hand in his own, the wedding rings clicking against each other softly as he giggles
yandere! husband who wants to try for a baby after years into the marriage. it was a surprise to him how he managed to wait patiently for so long after your marriage. while he wanted desperately to get himself knocked up at the night of consummation of your marriage, he understood your wishes to wait until the perfect time. finally, he thinks it is the perfect timing, after years of protected sex and daydreams of feeling his cunt get filled, tells you of his plan
yandere! husband who purposefully poked a tiny hole into every condom there is at your home, who huffs a fake annoyed noise whenever the material tears as you try to put it around your strap. he may have a pout on his face and talk about trying it raw on the outside but on the inside he is fucking giddy. he wants to feel your cock constantly pushing into his wet pussy walls so bad and he couldn’t help but curse silently under his breath when you take out a lone condom that was thankfully reserved in the pockets of one of your pants
yandere! husband who suggests on riding you instead of taking it as usual. a sudden change in your usual sex life but you didn’t mind trying new things out. laying on your back, you watch and let out occasional groans and low moans as you see how his sweet pussy swallows you whole, the fat of his ass higgling every time he bounces himself on your strap, asking you to slap and squeeze it. which you do gladly, lightly slapping as the jiggling flesh, making your husband giggle
yandere! husband who gets annoyed as the feeling of the condom around your cock, skillfully bouncing himself until he ‘accidentally’ slips your strap out. he swears it was the amount of lube you used, grabbing your cock with his hand and tapping his dripping pussy with the tip. your husband who makes a show, wiggling his hips as he slides the tip inside and sinking down until he feels full again. not yet, he thinks to himself, knowing that you would get suspicious if he tries his plan too early on
yandere! husband who keeps ‘accidentally’ slipping your strap out of his gushing cunt, whining until his patience finally ends. the next time it slips out, his fingers pinch at the tip of the wet condom, pulling on the material with a pout and a mumbled “it’s in the way..” until it comes off with a lewd pop!
yandere! husband who disregards your frantic words of protection and taking a second for you to put on another one, turning around to face you now as he sinks down onto your strap with one move. the feeling of your own cock, without any annoying latex in the way making him cream around your fat cockhead instantly, a drawn out satisfied whine falling from his lips
yandere! husband who clenches around your strap on purpose every time he moves. his hands guiding yours to touch his chest, the top scars that healed beautifully and to squeeze and fondle his nipples “u-until i sta—anngh ah haagh mmgh♡︎! start to lactate, just like your sweet baby momma uungh♥︎!!” while his pretty pussy squeezes your strap like a vice, unwilling to let go or not even daring to think so. he wanted to feel your cum, hot seeds painting his walls white and making his legs shake
yandere! husband who silences your weak protests for a protection with a messy kiss. noses knocking together, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth and wanting to ‘connect’ with you on a deeper level. he wanted everything you have to offer and seeing the small trail of saliva left behind as you pulled back for a gasping breath made him giggle deliriously
yandere! husband who increases his pace when he hears you struggling to talk, words of cumming together coming out in a jumbled mess as he sits himself fully in your lap. pushing your pelvises together until no gap was between them, throwing his head back with a satisfied mewl when he finally feels it. that warmth he’s been craving so long, filling up his womb, mixing with his love juice as the excessive mixed cum drops down your strap
yandere! husband who gets pushed into his back, legs pushed up and over until his knees were beside his head. put into a mating press with your annoyed face staring down at him just made him clench around you, a drunk giggle of your name falling from his lips. he gladly spreads his weeping pussy open further, with you still inside him, letting you see the mess you two made
yandere! husband who drops his act entirely, wiggling his hips with heart shaped pupils as he asks you to breed him. cum inside him as many times as you want, he wants a baby with you, it’s about time you two take your relationship to the next level. “i’ll be a good baby momma… and you’re already a wonderful lover who would become a wonderful parent. come on [name], breed me full of your seeds♥︎”
yandere! husband who gets fucked thoroughly to his wish. crying out all sorts of filthy words every time your cock sinks back into his cunt. thin drools on his chin, old tear stains constantly being replaced by new ones as his pussy clenches around you for the nth time, forcing you to cum earlier than you usually does. overwhelming amount of your mixed cum wetting the bedsheets, your thighs and his own as well as his butt. not like he cared, he wanted to make sure he gets knocked up, that you get him knocked up as he creams around you again, creating an even thicker halo of white around your strap
yandere! husband who shows his filthier side, holding your head against his chest and asking you to suck on his nipples, who place your hand over his tcock, telling you to “s-stroke! my cock too ahh haagh♡︎ mgh n-not fair that mmuungh uunghk my cock is being left alone♡︎!”
yandere! husband who lets out one last hoarse wail, the wetness of his cunt making you groan as your strap cums inside him for the nth time that night before collapsing on top of him. he had passed out, tired from the continuous pounding he received as he lay there peacefully with flushed red cheeks, tearstains and drools on his chin and cheeks while pretty bruises and lovebites cover his skin. the most notable bruises being the ones on his hips and thighs, making you grimace at the painful wound you saw. but hey, the small bulge in his belly from your excessive cum inside his womb made you happy. it definitely made him happy too
yandere! husband who occasionally regains consciousness during your aftercare for him. who groans and refuses to let you pull out for bath, straddling your lap inside the warm water filled bathtub. he couldn’t help but slur out a “noo… don’t pull out” as you push his pelvic away from yours, feeling the cum inside his pussy to drip down his legs
yandere! husband who now eagerly wait for the signs of pregnancy with a full boxes of pregnancy test at his side of the nightstand, who still poke secret holes into your condoms because when did he said he wanted only one baby with you?
⇨ characters i think fits: jing yuan, dan feng, yingxing, sunday, aventurine, argenti, dan heng il, gepard, sampo, luocha, caelus, luka, jiaoqui, itto, baizhu, ayato, thoma, childe, pantalone, dottore, kaeya, kaveh, lyney, neuvillette, sethos, heizou, venti, rubedo, aalto, xiangli yao, scar, yoriichi, haganezuka, douma, kaigaku, jyugo, uno, kiji, honey, trois, kenshirou yozakura, musashi, houzuki sanzou, ruka gojou, seitarou, tsukumo, mitsuru, sinbad, sharkkan, spartos, koumei, titus, muu alexius, sphintus, rafayel, mammon, asmodeus, mephistopheles, diavolo, belphegor, simeon, solomon, satan + anyone you like
1K notes · View notes
mo0nfairy · 2 months
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ STREETS !
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summary :: over 20 years of kenji’s life has been spent preserving the surviving scraps of innocence from his childhood. since then, he has been desperately searching for anything to fill the rotten void in his chest. when a news reporter gives him everything he could ever ask for by merely existing, kenji fears the man he may become without them near.
word count :: 8.3k
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!kenji, obsessive!kenji, g/n reader, blood/violence, alcohol, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, nausea/sickness, mentions of sex, use of ‘daddy’ honorific (but nothing sexually explicit occurs).
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kenji sato's yandere traits are . . .
nurturing, heroic, & smothering
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──── Over the course of his childhood, Kenji possessed the same desires every child had. The same wishes he’d whisper to planes he mistook for shooting stars.
He remembers climbing the blunt limbs of the oak tree in his backyard, pretending to be a hawk and searching the grass for any delicious rodents to sink his claws into. He can still feel the dirt under his fingernails when he’d get lost in the woods, pretending to be a tiger and barring his teeth to any predators after his kin. His only worries would consist of his next meal and where he'll settle in for the night, instead of the loneliness that resided back home.
However, as all stories go, Kenji grew up. As the years passed, though, the more constricting his grip became on this childhood dream. For every candle Kenji blew out, he only wished to be one with the great outdoors and rid himself of the expectations shoved upon him. As any child innocently wanted.
Now in adulthood, every candlelight snuffed out was a silent plea for peace. And so desperately, he is trying to protect the bird nest he intricately crafted. Woven with strands of his young, raven-black hair, chunks of sidewalk chalk, tufts of fur of his favorite stuffed animals — every forgotten, sacred piece of his childhood that still remains unscathed.
Year after year, the relentless abuse of the world and his responsibilities reign down on him, prying their violent, eager fingers into his beloved bird nest. Today, Kenji holds whatever scraps still remain close to his chest, nestling them beneath a canopy of creativity and everlasting hope. Protecting whatever bits of innocence and childlike luster that survive the weight of the world.
When he pictured his father’s role of Ultraman as a child, he imagined perseverance and bravery. Now with that title bequeathed to him, Kenji is anything but. He is clumsy, reckless, and negligent. The very last thing he wishes to do now is follow his father’s footsteps, but alas, he has been given no choice.
The Neronga waltzes through the city streets, exuding chaos with every step it strides. Tossing around chunks of buildings and fistfuls of debris. And begrudgingly, Kenji trails after it like a parent trying to tame their exuberant child. 
A booming roar echoes from the beast's throat, angry bolts of electricity sparking from its horn. One swift punch to its jaw and the creature is out cold, leaving miles of destruction and disorder in its demise. With the threat neutralized, now comes the clean-up. He plucks citizens like they are tiny dolls and drops them to safety, who all thank him profusely for his aid. All except one.
Several bystanders crowd over a pile of rubble, waving their hands in an attempt at garnering the attention of Ultraman. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming, I’m coming…” Kenji mutters, stepping over passing cars as though they’re scatterings of colorful legos. 
Piece by piece, he brushes past the lumps of bricks and metal. Disinterred from beneath the rubble is you. Hauntingly beautiful in your unconscious state. 
“Oh…” He exhales breathlessly, chest rising and falling with rapid pants. 
And there it is. 
That canopy of creativity enveloping him; that bird nest suddenly overflowing with rebirth and life. Everything bursts in colors so prismatic, Kenji finds himself at an impossible balance between feeling weakly heavy and ecstatically light. Never has his soul been so completely satiated before, even in the brightest days of his childhood.
Love, that’s what this must be! Love, warmth, happiness — every inkling of light this world has to offer! How could he ever feel dejected again with this angel now in his-? 
“Your heart rate is spiking.” That familiar, robotic voice interrupts. “You know what happens when Ultraman gets stressed.” 
Like clockwork, his color timer blares in distressful hues of light blue and sharp red. Though, how could Kenji possibly pay attention to such trivial matters when he’s holding you in his hands? How could he pay attention to anything else? 
Unfortunately for his sake, reality tears him away from his entranced state by brute forcd. A blinding flash of white permeates the street and in a blink, Kenji has returned to his normal self. He is back to being the notorious baseball player, worldwide heartthrob, and, most notably, smaller than his heroic alter ego.
When he shifts his gaze up, he finds you descending from the grasp he once held you in. Just like the fearless prince in every child's imagination, he scurries to catch you before you meet the unforgiving ground.
When his bare hands meet your skin, a gasp is yanked from his chest. His heart lurches, obtaining speeds he did not deem possible. Even sprinting from base to base did not garner this physical reaction out of him. You just feel so good against him, so perfect. Like the missing puzzle piece he’s been tearing apart the house looking for, now within its respected place. Bound to be cemented there forever – that sounds good to Kenji. 
“Ken, they can see you!” Mina’s frantic voice interrupts once again. 
When he pulls his vision from you, he finds a collage of people begin to surround the adjacent area. Their mere gaze threatens to jeopardize his identity once and forevermore.
“I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry, baby.” Kenji whispers into your ear.
Pressing a hard kiss to your cheekbone and relishing at the sensation of your skin beneath his lips, he reluctantly guides your limp body atop of the rubble. A few final caresses to your warm flesh and he is scurrying off into the night, completely inconsolable with these brand new emotions. New emotions he fears terribly, but has now clasped all coherent function in his body.
A single week had passed since the city's last Kaiju attack. These several days have proven to be nothing short of torturous for Kenji.
He has been rendered miserable after latching onto the light he’s been chasing for years, only to have it torn from his hands like candy from a baby. All because he’s been forced into a gig he never signed up for. Kenji has lost the love of his life and nothing can reprimand the grief it has left behind. 
Through extensive, but fruitless effort, he has assigned Mina the task of dissecting all of Japan in search of you. With only a description of your face, coated with dirt and blood, there is very little the efficient robot can do. And once again, his desires are left to collect dust in the hollow corners of his soul.
Kenji now resides in his ‘man-cave’, as he so confidently calls it. “Healthy body, healthy mind.” Mina teases, displaying the assortment of coconut water stacked in the fridge. With a sigh of defeat, he takes a resentful sip and cringes at the horrid taste. His efforts to stuff his face with junk food like some heartbroken blonde in a chick-flick were rejected by Mina, as she is always pushing him to pursue greater health. Waving his white flag, he asks for Mina to just turn the TV on, searching for anything to mend the pain poisoning his heart.
“Ken. I wonder if you might consider taking a break.” Mina confesses. 
He stares at the robot, searching her metal face for reasoning.
“From TV?” 
“From finding that citizen.”
His face scrunches in disdain. 
Quit you? Is she serious? How could he ever do that? Could he even survive such a predicament? 
“Give up the one thing that puts a smile on my face?” Kenji questions. “Sorry. No. TV, please.”
Some sincere praise from saved citizens will surely fill the hole in his chest, he assumes. Help him in his efforts to protect that bird nest he cradles close. 
The TV flickers to life and presents Channel 7 News, the place in which Kenji is featured most on. Seeing his most recent work with a bold “WOUNDED NERONGA AFTER ULTRAMAN EXIT” beneath the scene granted no surprise to him. 
What does stun him into a defying silence is when the screen shifts and your face fills up the expanse. Bandage on your scalp and microphone in your hand, you inform viewers at home of the recent neutralized threat and your new status here on the channel.
“Well, this has been quite the warm welcome! I’ve just arrived here in Japan and I’ve already been greeted by the Neronga, evident in this bandage on my noggin’.” 
The coconut water in his mouth spews out like a sprinkler when Kenji spits out the beverage. He chucks the open can across the room, ignoring the stain it will inevitably leave on his lavish carpets.
“That’s them! That’s them, that’s them, that’s them!” He exclaims to Mina. 
Shuffling off the couch, he crawls over to the television as though his legs had completely given out beneath him. His hand caresses the surface where your cheek is. 
“Sources tell us you were rescued by Ultraman himself!” A news anchor speaks. 
“Yes, that is true. Unfortunately, I was a bit too woozy to thank him properly, but he did save my life. It is heroic acts like Ultraman that help keep this city alive.” 
Unbeknownst to you, your words made a certain baseball player melt into putty. Hearing your praises, even when it is probably written on a script behind the camera, is nothing short of heavenly. 
The anchors, third-wheeling between two soulmates, continue to blabber about other fresh events taking place in Japan. Pressing languid kisses to the fuzzy static, all Kenji can listen to, all he can focus on, is you. Every twitch of your brow, every curve of your skin, every stretch in your smile — it all has him mesmerized. Like a siren lulling a fisher into the sea, where he would dive straight into oblivion had it been you in the deep waves.
“This was Y/N L/N with Channel 7 News.” 
Your name sits like honey on his tongue. Sickeningly sweet and absorbing of every word. 
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He repeats your name like a magic spell, almost as if you’d manifest into existence had he whispered it enough.
“Signing off.” 
The screen cuts and you vanish from the screen, overtaken by irritating advertisements. As though you were physically there with him, Kenji reaches for you. Desperate to bring you, his Y/N, back into his unwavering embrace.
Now, if there is anything renowned about Ken Sato, it is his charm, which also serves as his most powerful superpower. So, with enough flexes in the mirror to give himself a good ego boost, his “put a ring on Y/N’s finger” plan has now ensued in full effect. 
The foundation of this plan resides in who you are, what intricacies and threadings course through such a marvelous creature. He demands Mina, stronger than he ever has before, to learn every little detail there is to know about you. There cannot be a stone left unturned. Kenji needs to know everything. 
And every fragment of information she delivers to him binds his presumption furthermore: you two were made for each other. You’re like a page torn straight from an ancient fairytale. Crafted by God himself to hold his hand. He’s sunk his fingers into your background, your dreams, your hobbies, and he has nestled them all into his bird nest, entwined with the elements of himself. Bound to remain at one another’s side for eternity.
To enlighten you on these matters, however, Kenji has to find clarity through the whirlwind of emotions overpowering his senses. Then, he is positive he’ll be granted the ability to finally speak to you. However, the thought alone is enough to send a sun-hot shiver down his spine. He’ll need some thorough caresses to his ego before he can garner the confidence to merely stand in the same room as you.
It certainly does not help when everyday is spent battling the intense waves of euphoria, obsession, and of course, the suffocating guilt.
He left you behind. He abandoned the one thing that matters most to him and nothing can atone for this mistake. All because of Ultraman being most imperative, which Kenji had been force-fed to believe. Never again will he choose his occupation over you. Or anything, for that matter. You outweigh everything in terms of vital importance. 
He begins these efforts with baby-steps. To start, he assigns Mina to leave expensive gifts upon your bed. Bouquets of flowers, lush clothing, rich chocolates, luxurious jewelry, action figures and plushies galore! All you have to do is look at something in the store for more than a picosecond and it’s wrapped in a bow for you the following day. You also cannot forget the amount of times you’ve arrived home to find your favorite meals freshly made on the kitchen table.
In your overworked, lethargic brain, you assume everything is left by your sweet, elderly landlord who misses her grandkids and needs a fresh face to spoil rotten. You just choose to ignore how the gifts are impossibly far out of her budget.
Miles away from you, Kenji is tearing himself apart as he assumes your lack of recognition to be rejection. He knew he should’ve purchased those shoes in a different color! What was he thinking buying you roses instead of carnations, God, how cliché can he be!? 
He should’ve known you wouldn’t lend him your heart in return for his riches. You are not that foolish or shallow; you’re far more meticulous than the greedy pigs he’s so accustomed to feeding. 
Kenji will not claim defeat yet, though. He is never one to waver so easily, especially when it is you that is the golden prize. If he cannot flaunt his riches, why not himself? The richest item of all? And if his money cannot slither himself into your heart, he is positive it can push him in the intended direction. 
He’ll leave lumps of cash in the hands of massive corporations, all to cast his face wherever it can reach. On billboards, on buildings, on blimps — whatever place you may possibly be. Inevitably, you will have no choice but to see his gorgeous face and fall head over heels with him. The same way you so easily made him fall for you. 
Unfortunately, though, there are not enough cans of coconut water or buckets of chicken drumsticks in the world to bring you to his doorstep, there to fall into his arms and promise forever at his side. Kenji has failed in claiming your heart as his, once again, but another failure is not nearly enough to get him to welcome defeat. Not when it is you he is promised, never when it is you.
From here, he’ll pursue grander efforts. You’ll be occupied in the studio, skimming through your lines while makeup artists poke and prod at you. A squeal of excitement will permeate through the expanse, shouting out for a man by the name of Ken Sato.
Loud rumbles echo through the city streets as Kenji revs the engine to his motorcycle, complemented by his famous hair-flip and heart-throbbing wink. And feverishly, he scrutinizes every face behind the window, desperate to see those gorgeous features smile and melt at the sight of him. Then, he can spring straight into your studio, gather you in his arms, and race off into the sunset with you. Just like the fairytale dream you deserve. 
But alas, the universe refuses to give him such a privilege. You’re too engrossed with the tasks at hand, not some money-obsessed athlete who adorns the walls of teenage girls across Japan. 
If he could hear your assumptions, he’d assure you are sorely mistaken. Kenji doesn’t want the accolades, the riches, the fame. He just wants you. The one who showed him what it truly meant to be wild; the one who showed him what it truly meant to be free. So desperately, he wants you to know this, as well. To feel it with every beat your heart passes, to feel it imprinted in your skin with every kiss and caress he leaves. He could lose everything, just not you. God, not you. 
The man is speeding off with the pieces of his shattered heart before you can even process what had even occurred.
Kenji, once again, is met with another revelation. If it is not his name that can bring you into his embrace, then maybe it is his second self, the one you so wholeheartedly praise for his heroic acts.
Dressed in these ridiculous garbs, Ultraman leads danger towards your direction to “save” your life, all other innocent bystanders be damned. These efforts do not ever bridge on being dangerous. Merely a quick scare or two. And it definitely pays off, oh, does it pay off. Watching the fear in your eyes ease into relief at the sight of him never fails to get him numb with rapture.
“Fear not, citizen! Kenj- I mean, Ultraman will save you!” 
The last occasion he ever abused his role consisted of an orchestrated car accident. Nearly caught in the crossfire, you ever-so-gracefully dove away from the scene and skidded your knee in the process. A thundering “NO! BABY!” rings through the air. So absorbed in adrenaline, you do not even process the volume of the sound. 
What does grasp your attention is Ultraman taking you into his hand and lifting you far, far away from the ground. You ensnare yourself around his finger in response, clinging to him like a lifeline. Kenji melts from the action, as well as the underlying implications. You, relying on him, your silver-armored prince, for protection — that is everything he could ever wish for sat right in the palm of his hands. 
“Shh… It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay… Daddy’s here…” 
The words, shaky as they are, fall from his mouth like water through a cracked dam. It’s all just so easy, assuring you of his protection and comfort. The only way of preventing him from caring for you is to end his life. And Kenji has a lot of fight in him before he’ll allow himself to be separated from you.
You remain in his hands until an ambulance arrives. For the umpteenth time, he is forced to let go of you again. He cannot hide the perceptible agony it brings him to watch you rely on somebody else for aid. 
One day, it will be him, he assures himself. One day.
In the meantime, your rejection continues to take a heavy toll on him. Kenji is now famished without you, emaciated and starved to the bone. In some feeble attempt at satiating this hunger, he’ll try to find these fragments of you in others. He will drink himself ill then bring a blurry face to bed, all to shake the memory of you out of his head. These efforts, once more, only result in failure.
This time around, a harrowing guilt rots in his chest. There is no one else like you, he should’ve seen it clear as day. Kenji was a fool to ever think there could be. Now, he has cheated on the one who matters most to him. And there is nothing to placate the anguish he’s tormented by.
This perceptible ruination does not go unnoticed by journalists, either, who do not waste the opportunity of an eye-grabbing headline. Articles about him flood the web, detailing his miserable failures out on the field. Crawling to base seconds too late, sprinting directly into walls, and receiving more strikes than anyone can count — Kenji and the famous Sato name are falling apart by the seams.
He examines the glistening trophies and signed baseball cards in another attempt at protecting his ego and its butchered remains. None of it is enough, though. None of this success is notable without you at his side.
In a fit of rage, he throws his Giants helmet against the basement floors, landing with a harsh thud.
“They reject me? Ken Sato!? Best baseball player of all time!? The one and only Ultraman!?” 
His poor helmet is victim to his abuse, once more, as he leans all his might into a forceful kick. 
“Nobody can resist Ken Sato!” 
Another attempt at thrashing around in anger results in his knees buckling beneath him, sending his body to the cold ground. That was the final failure Kenji needed to break down into a sobbing fit. Head buried in his palms, he begs, pleads, for mercy. 
“I… I’m doing my best, okay? God!”
His body curls into itself, like pathetic prey trying to protect itself.
“I buy you everything you want, I save your life again and again, I-” 
Kenji cuts his tangent short by choking on a gagged cry. His fist clenches over his heart, overwhelmed from the sheer pain the organ is enduring. His chest stutters and twitches from the force of his blubbering. Globs of snot and spit gush across down his face, some clumps managing to pervade across his tongue.
“Ken? Are you crying?” A monotone voice speaks. 
“No! I’m… Not crying!” 
His coughing whimpers and wet face reveal the truth. Weakness is something he was taught to be ashamed of, after all. What kind of man would he be if he let himself crumble over such petty matters? Would you ever fall for him after witnessing such a dramatic sight?
“Want me to load up Y/N? That might make you feel better.” 
A few snivels through the silence and Kenji answers her. “Yeah… Yeah, I-I’d really like that…”
Maybe this is what he needs, just a few hits of his favorite drug to keep him in stable condition. Then, he’ll utilize the newfound strength to revive his honor, finally earning your affection in the end.
Pixels unfold in varying colors across the ground, spreading across the walls and ceiling like a reaching wave. The scene overtaking the basement now displays a romantic scene. Cherry blossom trees dance with the warm wind, petals drifting through the Spring air. A grand waterfall descends from a moss-covered mountain and leads to a river, where fish swim along with the stream. As he stands to his feet, Kenji finds himself at an arched bridge stretching over the river as the gentle melodies of nature sing around him.
When his gaze drifts around, he feels his heart practically plummet into the pit of his stomach when he sees you. Leaning over the wicker barrier and tossing out handfuls of kibble for the hungry fish.
Turning over your shoulder, you look up at Kenji with those glittering eyes, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. To make matters even worse for Kenji’s weak self, your face then breaks out into a candy-sweet smile. You are so innocently oblivious to how you’ve reduced his heart rate to an old engine, stuttering miserably. That smile could make even the devil repent, he’s sure of it. With luminosity like that, the greatest evils would have no choice but to succumb to their contrition.
Dusting your hands off, you frolic over to where Kenji stands. A lighthearted giggle escapes past your lips in the process, nearly bringing him to tears from how precious the sight is. Your hand slips into his and he might as well have crossed the pearly gates of heaven. Fuck, why hasn’t he made Mina do this before?
“Come on! Come feed the fishies with me!” You cheer in that captivating tone. That adoring voice could ask so sweetly for death and he’d deliver you buckets of blood. Just keep talking to him like that.
The impact you have on him is so immense, in fact, Kenji falls to his knees. The throbbing ache that his fall courses through his body might as well have been background noise, not when his senses are overwhelmed with how blissful your presence is.
His arms enclose around your legs, burying his face into your fuzzy sweater. With an amused hum, you sink your hands into his dark locks. The gesture makes him dizzy with elation. Spinning around the merry-go-round of devastating jubilation.
“Tell me you love me.” Kenji whines, his sensitive voice muffled against your stomach. 
With another giggle that squishes his gooey heart, you respond.
“I love you, Ken.” 
… Ken? 
No! No, you wouldn’t call him that! 
You’d call him Kenji, or better yet, you’d conjure up some adorable nickname in that witty head of yours. Anything but Ken; anything but what everyone else sees him as. 
And just like that, the fantastical facade shatters and reveals what really lies beneath. None of this is real. As much as he wishes it would be, as much as he’d throw away everything for you to be beside him in this moment, all of this is merely a figment of his imagination.
“No! You’re not real! Y/N- They would never-!”
The tears return and leave his body through broken wails. Once again, he has been forged into a mess of cracked hiccups and ground-shattering sobs.
His clenched fist meets the solid ground, piercing pain invading his entire arm from the impact. The punch was thrown far from where you stand. Even as a hologram, Kenji cannot bear to hurt you. He couldn’t wish violence upon you even if he wanted to. 
The dreamscape stood before him crumbles as quickly as it was formed. Darkness spreads once again and the romantic scene of cherry blossoms and fish kibble fades away. A physical manifestation of what he has become without you present.
Chasing after a sliver of your attention has now thrust Kenji into a staggering state of despair. His sob playlist shakes his house with its ear-splitting volumes, pushing more tears down his face while he stuffs his mouth with donuts. 
The weight of the pain pushes him toward drastic measures, as he is now a hollow shell of who he used to be. Measures he assured himself he would never come to, but has inevitably crashed landed in.
If you do not fall for his riches, his charm, his fame, then Kenji will just have to… “persuade” you towards that goal.
Cameras flash and flicker in his face as he charms his way through another press conference of millions. Only this time, he has ground-breaking news to share. 
“Fans have seen you blow supposed kisses to someone outside the venue. Is there a special someone in your life?” 
Directly across the field is your studio, but he will not tell others this fact. It is his duty to protect you, after all. But, scattering a few breadcrumbs won’t hurt anyone.
“Yes. Yes there is.”
The room erupts in hushed gasps and the rushed scribbling of pens. Another wave of questions tumbles toward Kenji’s way.
“They mean everything to me. I owe all my success to Y/- I mean, my baby.” 
A knowing smirk grows on his face. The Sherlock’s of the internet will surely connect the dots. Netizens will also fawn over how misty-eyed he became speaking of you, while others will rage in jealousy over their dream man falling for someone else. No matter what occurs, he will protect you during your sudden shift to fame. You have his word on that.
Days later, Kenji receives an email. And he almost considers admitting himself into a hospital for the near heart attack he receives upon reading it. 
Signed by none other than Y/N L/N, you ask him to meet with you in order to “clear the air” and “sort out this drama”. 
Several times, he scans the username to find some sort of fault, something that shows him it is just the works of an envious hater. However, his suspicions are never confirmed. The message is purely and undoubtedly you, no online troll or basement hologram in sight!
Without another second to waste, he responds to your email with a place and time, that being two hours from now. Kenji intends on fulfilling his role of the dashing boyfriend and to drive you there himself, flaunting his sumptuous motorcycle in the process. Mina, however, has since been programmed to detect every potential danger in your path, even something as minor as a crack in the pavement. When she displayed the graphic results of recent biking accidents, his heart lurched in his chest.
For now, he will simply have to meet you at the luxuriant restaurant he booked the best table for. In the future, he will convert to safer forms of transportation and your foot will never touch a pedal again. Not with your prince charming around.
Arriving an hour early, Kenji bursts through the bathroom doors and wipes the beads of sweat seeping down his face. All the makeup and detail he put into his appearance, all melted to a mess because of the anxiety you pump through his body. 
It is almost comical. He, Ken Sato, is nervous? He’s done the classic dinner-date over a zillion times, delivering his suggestive pick-up lines and swift winks. Staring at his exasperated face in the mirror, he is at a loss of where to go from here. What will he even say? What famous lines can he use? How can he give you his black card and a copy of his house key without you running away? 
Kenji finally sits down at the reserved table, located on a far balcony and looking over the grand city. His wristwatch blares red and presents the stack of missed calls from his dad, of which he willfully ignores. He went twenty years without his father and survived. Meanwhile, he went one week without you and thought he was on the cusp of death. He cannot bring himself to care about anything else. Not when he’s finally got a hook on you.
A waiter then asks him if he was feeling alright, concerned over the sight of his pale skin, shivering body, and twiddling thumbs. Kenji assures the man he is alright as he restlessly taps his foot, stalking the door ahead for the face he loves most to saunter through. The building could just about crumble to ash and he’d still sit here, waiting for your arrival.
And just like a movie, you pass the threshold and rob all the air from his lungs. 
You merely walk his way, but to him, you resembled a fawn frolicking through a green meadow, an angel wandering across roads of fluffy clouds. Those sporadic nerves die at the sight of you, rendering him to a melted pile of twitterpated nonsense. You tread closer and closer and closer and Kenji does not know how much more his body can handle before you completely dissolve him into a puddle.
“You have five minutes.” 
Your voice perfuses into his ears like birdsong, real and raw this time. That noise greeting him every morning is the only wish he’d ask from a magic genie. 
“Wh-Wh-?” He stutters like a lovesick loser, mentally slapping himself across the head for such a pathetic introduction.
“I said you have five minutes to explain yourself. Then, I will le-” 
“I love you.”
Surprise eases out your scrunched expression. You’ve never met this man before. Yet here he is, spewing out this gibberish. All of this has to be some form of joke, you assume. Where those irritating Youtube pranksters will sprint out from their hiding spots and shove their cameras in your face, cackling like hysterical hyenas.
“I am in love with you.” 
Maybe this is just his way of leading partners into bed with him. A powerful effort to add another name to his lengthy body count. And for whatever reason, he plans to jot down your name on that list.
“And you are worth more to me than anything.” 
You scrutinize his face for some inkling of rationality, something to explain what the fuck he means by that. Your efforts prove to be futile, as those teary, doe-eyes peer into your soul with nothing but sheer, unadulterated devotion. As though you were both fresh newlyweds enjoying the luxury of your honeymoon, complemented by the glimmer of your new wedding rings.
“Okay.” You swallow dryly, unease bleeding through your body. “You get another five minutes to explain yourself. On one condition.”
Kenji perks up at your proposition as though you had offered your hand in marriage. 
“Yes! Yes, whatever you want!” 
The man in question ponders over what riches you could ask him for and how elated he’d be to give you them. Taking you on shopping sprees and serving as your adoring husband, paying every penny and carrying your bags for you while you peruse to your liking. Just say the word, maybe flutter those pretty lashes, and he’ll personally deliver the very planet into your hands.
“I want you to leave me be.” 
If it weren’t for the fact this man was a complete stranger, you’d feel a sting of guilt over the perceptible emotion that washes over his face. Kenji anticipated the demand of clothes, foods, travel tickets, of which he would gleefully fulfill. Not this. Anything but this. 
“Alright, f-for how long? 10 minutes? 20?” 
“Forever.” 
You might as well have surged your fist into his chest cavity and torn his heart out, stomping out the ba-bump beneath the force of your boots. You might as well have climbed the tree behind his childhood home and ambushed his bird nest, tearing apart the array of twigs and squishing the healthy eggs. You might as well have just killed him right then and there, as nothing could pain him more than such a fate. Forever without the one he loves most is a life you couldn’t pay him to suffer through.
His bottom lip begins to tremble, stomach gurgling with nauseated shock. A few gags masked by coughs go unnoticed by you, as you could’ve sworn you saw a bright flash of white in the distance. Did someone… Take a picture? 
“... What’s wrong, baby? What are you looking at, huh?” 
Shifting your gaze back to Kenji, you find his features sheen with sweat and sickly-green from the queasiness you’ve forced upon him. What you especially notice is the accent of smugness beneath it all, etched into the smirk stretched across his lips.
Hushed whispers in the distance accelerate in volume, until the entire restaurant erupts in flashing lights.
Paparazzi!? What the fuck are they doing here!? 
Kenji leans back into the chair and slings an arm around the back post, seemingly posing for the photographers invading your conversation.
“Oh, no! We’ve been caught! The horror! Whatever will we do now that our secret is out…?”
If it weren’t for the sake of your career, you would’ve socked that smile clean off his face. Maybe even knock out a few teeth while you’re at it.
Critics have now officially cleared the name of Ken Sato due to his recent spike in excellent performance. Sports commentators even toss around jokes of how Sato’s new partner has knocked some sense into him.
Another game of hundreds and the cologne of arrogance around Kenji could suffocate the entire arena. A recent report detailed by you is casted on the billboard outside your studio. He blows yet another kiss your way as he jogs onto the field, ignoring the shouting fans who seethe with envy. He has made it official across the nation that his heart is sewn into your hands. And not even God could level the happiness coursing through his body. 
That is, until an uninvited visitor opens his mouth. The Swallows catcher begins to taunt him about his lover on the big screen, unaware of the lethal consequences it would harbor.
“You let the team hit, Sato? Shit, I might talk to coach about a transfer so I can get a piece of th-” 
The baseball bat in Kenji’s hands collides with his jaw before he can finish his sentence. 
Several more plunges into his skull and a swarm of teammates swarm around to break apart the scene. The crowd is alive with excited hollering, drowning out the noise of the blood-stained threats Kenji barks his way, strings of saliva spurting from his mouth like some feral mutt. 
The onslaught of players quickly, albeit with struggle, overpower him, successfully retrieving the weapon from his grasp. The edges of his manicured nails dig into the meat of his palms, forming maroon crescents in his flesh. Blind with rage, more threats that will surely put him behind bars are screeched into the air.
A few harsh yanks from the group of men and Kenji is finally pried from the catcher. He is dragged off the field past the rushing paramedics before he can fulfill his promises.
“And now it looks like there are words being exchanged between Sato and the Swallows catcher... Oh! Oh, no. We haven’t seen a brawl like this in a long time! Both benches have cleared. They’re throwing punches…” 
Soothing his sore muscles in an ice bath, Kenji watches the recording of his public meltdown with trepidation. Your eyes are not far and surely, you will bear witness to the violence his hands are capable of. He fears you daring to think he will treat you as such and his chest aches from the thought alone.
All he wants at this moment is to tear down the door to your apartment, take your precious face into his hands, and speak the utter truth as he assures you he will never bring harm to you. He’ll inform you of the context of the fight and what sparked such a reaction out of him. Then, you’ll thank him profusely for his heroic defense and drown him in your sugar-sweet kisses. Just like he has dreamt of every night, often waking up in the morning with his puckered lips against his knuckles.
Now, however, Kenji has surely destroyed any chances of gluing you to his side forever. You resent him for that stunt he pulled at dinner, and now, you are afraid of what he and his baseball bat may do. The ongoing success of Ken Sato has crashed and burned, resulting in the loss of what he cared for most.
“Ken!” Mina calls out to him. “I have something to show you!” 
Assuming it is another plan of millions to stamp the title of ‘lover’ all over you, he rushes out of the bath and throws his clothes on. Venturing into the basement, he is met with the very last thing he expected.
The containment unit has been raised. Inside is you, fast asleep with a bow on your head. Wearing just his jersey and holding onto a plushie designed after himself. 
“Surprise!”
Mina’s robotic arms stretch out, presenting the gift she captured retrieved for Kenji.
In addition to your permanent presence, the containment unit has been extensively decorated. The adornments are all pink and fluffy, like a cloud draped over a sunset. A circle-shaped bed is strung above the ground, supporting the weight of you and the mess of plushy comforters. It rocks you from side-to-side like a fussy baby who skipped out on naptime.
The scent of lavender pervading the air eases you into a deeper slumber. Tranquil white noise hums from the surrounding speakers, suffusing with the sounds of a light rainstorm. There are even holograms of shimmering stars and a full moon hovering over you, like some colossal mobile strung above a crib. Among the stars is a constellation, of some sort, that reads “Y/N SATO” in glittering letters.
And poor Kenji doesn’t know if he wants to beat Mina into shambles of wires or give her as many HTTP cookies her synthetic heart could ask for. For now, he is too woozy to make a coherent decision regarding her well-being. As he stated before, you always remain of utmost importance.
“My God…” He gasps out through stuttering breaths. 
His heart pounds so violently, he can barely hear the sound of his own voice over the persistent thumping. Kenji wobbles over to you as though he had just stood on his two legs for the very first time. He is almost positive there is a certain air suffusing from your body, entering his bloodstream and choking him with fervent stress. Every step forward renders his body weaker and weaker.
Images then begin to haunt his mind, preceding what may happen in minutes time. Kenji sees your weeping face, crying to release you from this bird cage. He can hear the thundering volume of your voice declaring you will never fall in love with him, how you’ll soon vanish and leave him to forever rot in solitude.
The emotions these thoughts garner stir in his gut like a meal that doesn’t agree with him. Gags poke and prod at his throat, threatening to release the butterflies fluttering around his stomach. A glob of bile then spurts from his mouth and splats against the floor. Kenji, horrified and sick with worry, races away from the scene before he spills his guts in front of you and humiliates himself even further.
What on Earth is he meant to do now?
When you finally awaken, you’re convinced you’ve been melted into jelly. Maybe even restrained in a tank of thick oil. Limbs weak at wet spaghetti, you cling to any fragments of energy in your system as you try and discern your environment. 
“Well, look who woke up!” A female voice greets you. “Do you want to see daddy?” 
Something globe-shaped hovers around the barrier you’ve been ensnared in. If it weren’t for your groggy state, you’d verify it to be a robot and not a talking basketball. 
“’Daddy’? What the hell are you talking about?” Your confused voice protrudes broken and sluggish, still stained with the sleep you’ve just woken from. 
A screen forms above you and before your distorted vision, you find the very last sight you wished to see. Ken Sato, your own personal parasite, sits stiff in the living room just upstairs. Bouncing his leg in an anxious rhythm, he seems to be engrossed by a video on his laptop. As you listen further, the contents become more distinguishable.
“When the moment is right, lean into your partner slowly and tilt your head to avoid bumping noses.” 
The robot clears her throat in an attempt at grasping his attention, but fails to do so.
“Close your eyes and let your lips connect naturally. Match the pattern of your partner to-” 
Another noise of acknowledgment from the robot and Kenji’s attention is finally held. Barely, that is.
“What, Mina?” He answers curtly, eyes refusing to part from the information he is currently absorbing.
“Someone is waiting for you down here.”
In all the years you’ve lived on this planet, you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone move so fast before. Not only did Mina’s words arouse a visceral reaction out of Kenji, but they practically shoved him off the couch from the sheer force of her insinuations. His foot even gets caught behind a chair leg and causes him to land splat on his face, but this is not nearly enough to deter his acceleration. 
The screen you were studying then folds into itself as an elevator descends from above. Through the cyan, blurred exterior, you see the frame of no other than Ken Sato. The doors open a mere inch before the man in question is squishing himself through the tight space. Always the acrobat he is, he gracefully trips onto his face, once again, before clumsily scrambling to his feet.
Now, you’re given the ability to absorb his appearance. Messy locks of black hair lack their normal gelled accentuation. Dark eyes are blown wide as though he were some feral animal. Tan arms are covered in red scratches from the relentless, anxious scratching he abused his flesh with.
The bold ‘ICON’ on his shirt mocks you. Is that what he is? Is that what he expects you to perceive him as? Would an ‘icon’ do such a thing like this?
You ponder over how much time has passed since you’ve been brought into this horrid basement, how much time has passed before friends and family have deemed you missing.
Kenji knows the answer to your questions. It had only been a day; twenty-four full hours of crazed, restless worry. He even skipped out on the championship for this moment, just to ensure you remained safe in the basement. He trusts Mina, of course, but he cannot rely on her to restrain you. The grasp he has on you is dangling by a thread, worn thin by his own stupid antics from before. 
He knows now that if you were to take one step out the door, you’ll be gone forever. And Kenji will die before he allows that to happen. 
Meanwhile, you’re still trying to garner pieces of your memory together. After returning to your apartment from a hectic day at the studio, you allowed yourself to indulge in the hot meals always waiting for you at your kitchen table. Normally, you’d chuck them in the garbage out of distrust. Tonight, however, you were so overwhelmed with lethargy, you couldn’t conjure enough energy to cook yourself a meal. So, the magic dinner-fairy would receive your blessing in the meantime.
One bite in and you were out like a light, oblivious to what exactly is waiting for you once you wake.
What was waiting for you now dashes toward the edge of your dog kennel, as you’d describe it. Kenji places a hand to the surface and his forehead lands against the wall with a light thud. His quickened, gasping breaths fog the glass. He does not leave even a centimeter between himself and the barrier separating both of you. The legs that have scored him more wins for the Giants than any other played in history suddenly grow weak, trembling as they try to support his weight. 
Kenji’s half-lidded gaze is devoted to you only. A curl forms between his brows from the fervency of his emotions the longer he stares. His cheeks go red as two ripe cherries while he just stands and watches, all dewy-faced and blushing.
“Lower the containment unit.” He pants breathlessly, the sheer tone of love drooping from every syllable that parts from his mouth. Like pockets of honey seeping from a honeycomb. 
“Ken. That might be a bad idea. We cannot anticipate how they will react.” 
He presses lazy kisses against the glass as her words go through one ear and out the other. Ignoring her warning, he assures her of these concerns.
“I got ‘em, I got ‘em… My baby…”
To your horror, the walls plummet and grant this monster full access to where you lie. Kenji collapses, again, not realizing he had been leaning his full weight against the walls of the containment unit. This sudden intrusion causes you to flinch and you crawl away from him, attempting to shield yourself beneath the thick covers. 
Body shivering with feverish need, his hand grasps onto the corner of the mattress to stabilize himself. Mere inches away from your foot. His chin lifts to look your way, his eyes only needing to bathe in the sight of you forever. Within his irises, you find swirling pools of darkness illuminated by specks of glitter. Sparkling for you and you alone. 
A smile pokes at Kenji’s lips, bright and formidable, before he addresses your sour expression. 
“Aww, why the long-face? Is my baby hungry, maybe?” 
At the foot of the bed, a fraction of the floor folds open and rises a platter. On this platter is an array of all your favorite foods. Snacks, candies, sodas, juices, whatever your heart could possibly desire. Mina has correlated an all-you-can-eat buffet just for you. Similar to the dishes left for you back in your apartment.
As it spins, displaying every inch and corner of its delicious offerings, you curl further into yourself. You do not want nourishment, you want to leave! To part from this maniac and never hear of his name again! 
With your refusal to eat, Kenji determines the reason behind your dismay to be because of him. Or, in his egotistical brain, the lack of him. The works of an absurdly large ego, you’d surmise. 
“Do you… Do you need… Me?” The hope in his voice is akin to a child in disbelief over receiving surprise tickets to Disneyland.
And Kenji just melts from how gut-wrenchingly adorable you are. By simply existing, you’re yanking at his heartstrings like a puppeteer, guiding him further and further towards the edge of sanity. With eyes peering up at him like that, he’ll welcome the predicament warmly.
“Oh… I’m right here, baby. Daddy won’t leave you.” He coos in your ear, the warm cadence practically oozing into your brain. 
Still overwhelmed with exhaustion, you do not have a morsel of strength left in your body to fight off his affections. Despite how desperately you wish to. Instead, you have to remain pliant as Kenji guides you onto your back, soothing and shushing you as you sink further into the plush surface.
Tearing his shirt from his body, the loss of the ‘icon’ status, he crawls beneath the opulent covers with you. His arm snakes around your waist, while the other cradles your cheek. Hands shuddering and heart pattering as he presses himself against your back, he wonders how he had not simply died right in this moment. You’re too perfect. It’s too much for his poor heart to take. Cupid may as well have discarded the pink-hued arrows and plunged a knife straight into his chest.
Kenji leaves an array of kisses on the back of your neck as you drift back into a tranquil slumber. All those wishes he set on shooting stars have finally returned and placed you directly in his beloved bird nest. All to stay at his side forever.
All to never leave.
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⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
❝ WHY CAN'T I FIND
NO ONE LIKE YOU . . . ? ❞
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gif creds .
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honey-minded-hivemind · 3 months
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Oh I remember the Silent Night Au (laughs evilly)
Since all their clothes probably have holes to accommodate their wings, any clothes the yans give Reader is gonna show off their scars from their wings. For reader, it means freedom. Those scars were their choice, and that choice got them away from their abusers to the happiest years of their life ( Sad as that is). For the yans, it's a representation of all their failures. Because of their actions, reader can never fly again. They treated reader so horribly that reader felt safer permanently mutilating their body and hiding among people who would kill them rather than go back to the yans. Cause to reader, the yans certainly would kill them, at least with humans there is only a chance they'll be killed and thats if they get found out.
Also I can see yans keeping Reader's old wings in a cabinet, like in the Malificent movie. Like they are hoping to one day reattach the wings to the reader. (Despite them being way too small for them now cause Reader has hit puberty and grown quite a bit, the edges of fleash where they cut are rough and jagged, what hasn't been freeze dried by snowstorms is rotted away, and the bones are basically fossils now.)
I love it.
Reader is doing their best to hide, run away, or sleep in odd places, wanting nothing to do with their old abusers or even the new kids they have with them. Reader knows everyone can see their scars, that everyone flinches or shudders or makes sad crooning noises... and for Reader, while they don't enjoy it much, they're not going to hide their scars unless someone starts trying to touch them. Those scars are a part of them, the part they had to sacrifice to survive, amd they don't want to act like it never happened. Reader just wishes everyone would leave them alone or let them escape in peace...
The platonic yans keep Reader's wings preserved, but they aren't on display for all to see. They're in a lab, where they can study them, or feel their guilt in full swing without an audience. They hat what they caused. What they did. What they've made Reader feel. They view this as their fault, and want to fix it, to make Reader whole again. They can't reattach their old wings; they're too rotted and dead for that. But they can try to regrow them, make genetic copies, and grow the cloned ones, then simply reattach them to Reader... Or, they can plant them in Readee, and let them grow a bit more... naturally. They don't want to hurt them, but... they want, no, need, Reader to have their wings again. To be able to fly. To be able to clean them. To be able to let them have their instincts again. They know it's hard, for Reader to he around them. But they keep trying to run away, amd they keep having to hunt them down and bring them back. They want to be a family with them. They do. Amd hopefully they can work on it while Reader is getting prepped for having their wings back...
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abbyfmc · 2 months
Text
[The Mute Concubine]
Yandere Emperor x Female Reader: Warning: There are mentions of kidnapping, stalking, obsessive and yandere behaviors which are NOT recommended to practice in real life. Postscript: The text dividers are NOT mine, so I give credits to their respective creators.
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Many years ago, Emperor Ivan ruled Zealia with a heavy hand. He had a young appearance that can be attractive to anyone who didn't know him (and even a little to those who do). He lived in his luxurious palace with his multiple wives; a group of beautiful women who had had some children for him.
Anyone would think that he had everything and couldn't want anything more, and that's what Ivan thought a long time ago despite the monotony of his life. He had a lot of money; total and absolute control over the laws of each kingdom and tribe at his disposal; beautiful women and children; good food, clothing and medicine as well as medical care.
But no, it wasn't like that. Ivan was infatuated with something again; Something was pulling him out of his dream, or rather…someone. That someone was a beautiful young woman whom he had seen during his most recent trip.
She was quite a beautiful and delicate girl, even more so than a common courtesan or prostitute. She had a face that was difficult to forget, and a smile that easily dazzled or moved anyone. She was hired to make Ivan happy during those nights of his stay, but the next morning she disappeared. He not only slept with her, but they also played board games, showing that she was quite good at these since she beat him in the vast majority of the games, which were very silent but interesting. This made him feel more interested in researching her; However, he could not find her anywhere after her return to his palace.
The emperor did not stop thinking about her, reaching the point of dreaming about her day and night. He wanted to go out to find her, but he feared for her own reputation as her ruler. While thinking, he came up with the idea of ​​calling all the girls in his town who had the same physical characteristics as the mysterious girl who now lived in his heart.
All the girls from the town summoned to the palace, introducing themselves one by one only to be instantly rejected by Ivan. He was already starting to get bored after the long day, but he didn't want to give up. From one moment to the next, his trusted butler approaches him and says:
-Your majesty, we have found the girl you were looking for, but there is a problem…- The emperor was interested. His beloved…was she seriously here?, he couldn't believe it; he had to see it himself.
-Let her in, I want to see her.- The emperor firmly ordered. The butler made a gesture and the guards showed the girl in, and the emperor could not believe… that she was the courtesan from that time!, only dressed in a more formal or refined way. The courtesan knelt and bowed, but without saying a single word, which seemed strange to Ivan.
-So… aren't you going to tell me your name?- She was about to take out what appears to be a piece of paper from her sleeve, and just then the emperor's butler interrupts.
-Your majesty, I have tried to ask her name before, but the owner of the courtesan house told me that she is (Y/n) (Y/ln), and that she is… mute.- Ivan was surprised. He now understood why she never talked to him; She was not with bad intentions, because of bad education or because she didn't want to, but because of something that she didn't ask for at birth.
-So that was it. I like it, that awakens an aura of mystery in you that I love so much.- Ivan took her hands and carefully lifted her up. He looked at how embarrassed she was a moment ago, changing that expression to one of surprise.
From that moment on, Ivan made the mute courtesan start living in the palace with him, which made everyone look contemptuously at (Y/n), because she was a courtesan or prostitute and besides, she couldn't even speak; apart from the fact that they envied her a lot for her beauty.
This caused (Y/n) to be forced to use the emperor's hands to defend herself, in exchange for giving herself to him, a man she pretends to love in order to survive in her new environment. She cannot speak and that is true, but she has to communicate with the help of signs, servants, letters, facial expressions and even paintings. Iván loved this girl, because he was not only captivated by her mystery and high genius for board games, but also by her ability to draw and paint.
Ivan, on the other hand, was still obsessed with (Y/n). He loved spending time with her, whether sleeping with her, playing super difficult but entertaining board games, feeling like he had never felt with any of the women in her harem. For him, she is different.
She was… his mute concubine.
-The End.
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aayakashii · 3 months
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soooo I wrote this for the art god @devotion-disorder because
1- they're one of my favorite artists ever!!!!!!! And they're someone who portrays yanderes in such a 😙🤌 chef's kiss way that I can't help but admire
2- I am obsessed with their oc kuuya
but if you'd rather I delete it, just let me know!!
Warnings: NSFW, yandere behavior, unhealthy obsession !!! Minors DNI !!!
Part 2 of this fic here <3
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The skin on the nape of your neck prickled, making you shiver at the strange sensation.
The steady gaze outside your window was so piercing and unmoving that it could be as sharp as needles nicking your skin.
Although, if you were to be fully honest, it felt more like a knife.
It would be just another night, if it wasn't for the fact that your co-worker lurked outside your house.
"Kuuya", you mouthed his name, just to feel how it moves against your lips, because you could never really say it during daytime without having him spiral headfirst into a meltdown.
Kuuya was a disaster.
He never talked to you.
You would sometimes catch him staring at you during work, which made him blush like an anime schoolgirl, but that was the extent of his interaction with you.
He was a regular employee, didn't stand out much, nor caused problems. He was just... there. Constantly looking exhausted, with his back hunched and in the verge of a mental breakdown.
And you were so attracted to that mess of a man.
Your friends would probably frown and sigh if they knew, but they were also pretty much aware of your type: sickly victorian-looking men, anemic, with extremely dark circles under their eyes, who probably sneeze a lot and shake like chihuahuas.
And, hey, that was Kuuya to a T. How could you not have a crush on him?
You soon realized, however, that he probably had a few screws loose.
It started slow, a few things going missing. First it was a pen, then some of your hair ties, then old post-it notes you had forgotten about, until their absence reminded you of their existence.
These things were inconsequential.
You wouldn't even notice their disappearance, if it wasnt for the fact that one day you saw Kuuya with a fluffy hair tie that looked way too similar to yours to be a coincidence. It even had the same little star charm that yours had.
And then you noticed the pens, carefully placed inside a cup near his computer.
And the erasers, the post-its, the pencils, all the other office appliances that you were pretty sure were yours.
But they weren't, right?
That was just your fertile imagination playing tricks on you.
Right?
One day, just to erase this silly idea from your head – I mean, you were probably just paranoid – you waited until you saw Kuuya take a break from his assignments and make his way to the bathroom.
You observed through the corner of your eyes how he stared at you while making his way to the other side of the office, anxiously shaking your leg as you mentally egged him to hurry up and go to the damn toilet.
As soon as you were sure he was inside and you were out his sight, you bolted towards his desk, earning a few pissed off glances from your other coworkers.
You had to work quickly though, since you didnt know how long he would take to come back. Looking over your shoulder constantly, you opened the drawers under his desk, searching for something and feeling silly all the while (what if you're the crazy paranoic one for real?), until your hands haphazardly touched some papers and you heard the sound of crinkles.
Looking over your shoulder one more time to make sure he wasn't around, you lifted the papers and mouthed a silent "oh." as you saw what was underneath them.
Dozens and dozens of candy wrappers, discarded notes and even more of those old post-its laid organized in what you could say was impeccable fashion, if it wasnt for the fact that it was all trash.
Your trash.
In the back, you saw some plastic bags with questionable contents, but your anxiety was in an all time high and you decided to just put things back were they were and close the drawer.
You had your confirmation. He WAS crazy and you were still paranoid, but at least you were right.
You made way back to your desk and sighed, sitting down.
Conflicted feelings pooled in your gut.
You knew all of that meant that he was indeed crazy and obsessed and potentially dangerous, but also... you couldn't really deny the excitement that made butterflies fly all around in your stomach and the giddy feeling that made your heart race with expectations – of what, you didn't know.
And as these feeling swarmed you, you failed to realize the pair of eyes that were locked tight onto your figure from the very start.
If Kuuya could properly express his feelings, he would be moaning and whining in pure despair.
They saw everything. They saw where he keeps all his treasures he had been collecting for the past months.
But why?! Why did they even think about looking for that? Has Kuuya been acting too obvious? But he made sure he wouldn't be too creepy! Well, at least not as creepy as he truly wanted to be. How was that happening all of a sudden?!
The taste of copper interrupted his mental breakdown and he looked down at his thumb, where tiny droplets of blood appeared after he anxiously chewed it.
"It's okay, it's fine" he kept repeating in his mind, like a mantra. He'd just need to see how you'd act around him after that.
If you stopped interacting with him (even if most of those interactions were just good mornings and good evenings coming from YOU), he would probably just... end it all for once. Or maybe kidnap you so you wouldn't run away. Whatever crossed his mind first.
With his heart beating loud on his chest, Kuuya walked back to his seat and forced himself to work, spreadsheets and numbers flashing on his mind, unnoticed.
All he could think was of your hands rummaging through his drawers.
Oh god, your hands touched his things.
Kuuya exhaled sharply, rubbing his thighs together to alleviate the sudden discomfort in his groin. What would he do if you never even looked at his direction again? Sure, you could even report him to the HR, but not being able to see you was a fate worse than being fired!
His mind tumbled, wandering through every worst scenario possible, and in his despair, he didn't notice it was already time to clock out.
"Good evening, Kuuya." You say as you pass by him, nodding your head, with a tight smile.
'Huh?'
Kuuya stares at nothing in front of him, until the fact that you talked to him registers in his mind.
'HUH?'
You talked to him?
Wait.
Did you really see what was in his drawers? Was he just hallucinating? No, there's no way he was. He saw how your colleagues stared at you when you ran to his table. They SAW you. Just like he did. So you saw everything. And you don't hate him? What the fuck. You don't find him disgusting? What? What the hell.
He didn't understand.
He couldn't understand.
He had to understand.
And so, he led himself towards your house, hiding in the bushes right in front of your bedroom window.
How lucky was he that you didn't live in an apartment building?
He was there to understand you better. Just for that. And it'd be just this time, he swore. Just to see what was up with you.
His breath was ragged and heavy and his cheeks burned red. He bit his bottom lip tightly to keep any moan from escaping as he palmed himself through his pants, while he watched the way you stripped yourself of your work clothes.
Quickly undoing his belt buckle and his pants, he let himself be completely overtaken by pure lust and began pumping his dick mercilessly as he was graced with just a little bit more of your skin, right in front of him.
He saw you sigh as you got rid of your pants and his eyes rolled back, imagining how you'd sound if he was the one taking your clothes off.
Oh, what would he give to be able to jump through your window and grab one of your dirty clothes and get drunk on your scent...
The thought made him buck his hips forward clumsily, and he gritted his teeth, hard.
Well, fuck.
He panted, while he observed the way his cum dripped from the leaves of the bush, and as coherent thoughts started flowing back to his mind, he suddenly hoped he wasn't moving too much to catch your attention.
You hadn't even looked his way, so he was safe, right?
Right?
You rubbed your thighs together as you kept your back turned to the window. The windowpane was open, in order to allow the wind to flow through your bedroom, and due to this little fact, you could hear a faint sound coming from the plants right in front of your window.
A quiet, almost indiscernible (if you weren't paying close attention) plap plap plap sound.
You bit your lip to keep your grin from spreading through your lips.
The dumbass was masturbating! Right there! Right in front of your room!
You sighed, feeling the heat pool in between your legs, but controlled your instinct to pull him out from wherever he was and fuck him silly in your bedroom.
You desired him so fucking much. You thrived in his attention, like a sunflower leaning towards rays of light.
The thing is: while you loved his obsession, you were also deathly afraid that he would lose interest in you as soon as he found out how much you also wanted him.
Much like a cat who discards a prey. Except this cat was wet, sad, pathetic and still, you were ridiculously eager to keep playing dead so he would put his grimy, sticky little paws on you just a little bit more.
How would Kuuya feel, you wondered, if he knew you were as obsessed with him as much as he was with you?
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dilvei · 3 months
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 ( y! emperor x m! assassin reader )
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yandere! emperor x male! assassin reader
warnings:
attempted murder
attempted poisoning
mentions of torture
some dubcon tumble & kissing in the sheets ey
directory: part one, part two [ coming soon ]
this definitely could've gone to a much, much darker route but instead it turned out kind of cute(?). i once had a similar idea to this one but as like a longer fic but i don't have the time for that so eat this instead y'all 🌈🌈
requested by @n4muqr
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✾ | much is unknown of the current reigning emperor, dimitri, and what little is known about him is all rather rudimentary, really—merely the common knowledge shared and repeated by most already.
✾ | for instance, it is often said by the masses that dimitri is akin to a sleeping lion. a calm and quiet presence... until a single misstep is made in his presence, prompting his unbridled fury. the emperor does not merely desire perfection, he demands it with an almost relentless, crazed fervor. the emperor will not— cannot simply stand by when something in his vicinity does not reach that impeccable state.
✾ | another topic, oftenly brought up, is his cruelty. the amount of enemies dimitri has amassed on his path to the throne is not few, and those who remain are, well, tortured and tormented inside the cold dungeons for as long as they draw breath.
✾ | but none of those rumors are the ones that pique your interest in the emperor. no. what fascinates you about dimitri is the fact that he has yet to marry, and has remained so for several years of his reign, much to the utter bewilderment of his own people and his own court.
✾ | and the reason for it is so ridiculous that, the first time you heard it, you nearly topple over from laughter. the emperor is unmarried not because he is unattractive or ugly—the opposite really, if the rumors are to be believed—but because he deems that there is no one perfect enough yet to stand by his side. ridiculous, really. but what is an emperor if he is not arrogant?
✾ | still, the fact that there is no direct heir to the throne due to this is utterly hilarious to you. even more comical is the moment when, one day, you are given the task to assassinate said emperor.
✾ | you hold no loyalty for powerful men like dimitri, especially when they are reputed to be arrogant fools. and yet, curiosity stirs within you as to who issued such an order, for you are certain that you are not the only one sent to assassinate dimitri. his little brother perhaps? he is, after all, next in line to the throne.
✾ | a day after you receive the task, you simply... wait, and you remain waiting even as news of failed assassination attempts after another reaches your ears. not one assassin has succeeded, and it baffles you, really; it is either due to the emperor's extreme luck or, perhaps, his perfectionism has extended to other aspects of his life—namely, the protection that surrounds him.
✾ | so, you plan. disguising one's self to infiltrate the palace would take too long, and the likelihood of success is slim, especially given dimitri’s vigilant eye monitoring everyone’s movements. in the end, only one course of action comes to mind.
✾ | in the dead of night, you silently scale the towering walls of the palace—walls too high for most, surely, but easily surmountable for someone like you. with a mask covering the lower half of your face and more daggers than one should be permitted to carry, you ascend with ease.
✾ | landing on the balcony with barely a sound, you smile as you successfully arrive at the chambers of the arrogant emperor dimitri.
✾ | lock picking the door inside is awfully easy, and as you step into the bedroom that is almost suffocating with its golden splendor, you finally see him. you see the emperor.
✾ | dimitri is in bed, unguarded, with eyes closed and lips parted, so breathtaking to behold that, for a moment, you forget you are here to kill him, to murder him.
✾ | as you edge closer to his still body, you observe the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each soft breath. how his golden eyelashes flutter as the cold night air sweeps in from the open balcony window. it seems almost a waste to kill such beauty.
✾ | and just as you brandish your cold dagger to his neck, your other hand ready to silence his dying cries, dimitri's eyes shoot wide open, an icy gaze staring directly into you.
✾ | despite only just waking, the emperor is fast, sharp and alert, and in a blink, dimitri has already swiftly caught both your wrists with his hands in a vice-like grip, rendering you motionless as you both stare into each other’s eyes in tense silence.
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"You shouldn’t be up at such an hour, Your Majesty,” you slowly quip with narrowed eyes, breaking the silence between you as you struggle to free your hands from Dimitri’s grip. Your efforts are futile; his hold on you tightens further.
No doubt, that bruises will soon bloom like dark flowers on your skin, assuming, that is, Dimitri ever lets go of his grip.
With an almost empty sharpness in his gaze, Dimitri inches his face closer to yours, his expression thin as he responds, “And you, should not wander as you wish in your emperor’s chambers. Wherever did you learn your manners, stranger?”
"Well, certainly not around here, Your Majesty.” You let out a sharp laugh before kneeing him in the stomach. But, to your surprise, you flinch instead of the emperor. It feels as though... you just kneed a solid rock.
At your failed attempt, Dimitri merely raises a brow and sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. “I must admit, this is a first. No assassin thus far has attempted to climb my palace walls only to knee me in the stomach. I must say, you do make a memorable first impression.”
"I'm flattered, Your Majesty," you say with a faux smile as you continue to struggle against his grip. Another sigh escapes the Emperor's lips.
Suddenly, perhaps finally finding himself tired of your antics, Dimitri pulls you towards him with a firm grip, effortlessly throwing you onto his bed, pinning you under him with only a hand as though you weigh nothing.
Well now, this is bad.
Dimitri hovers above you, his warm breath caressing your neck, his gaze piercing you with a cold, steely silence. Then— he rips off your mask, revealing your complete face, twisted with frustration; Dimitri's eyes seem to gleam as he notices it.
"Must you really rip it off?"
"It obscured my view of your face, oh assassin. Your mask was a hindrance to us both," he answers, voice as smooth as velvet. With his free hand, and an empty gaze that all but screams danger, Dimitri’s fingertips softly caress your face before slowly, but surely, descending to your neck. You gulp.
Before he can act in a way you do not desire—specifically, choking you lifeless beneath him—you lean forward, rising to press your lips against his in desperation.
Not for his mercy, no—heavens, no. Your lips are coated in poison, a venom strong enough to probably lull a lion into instant slumber, and soon, will render Dimitri paralyzed as well.
Unsurprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly—because you’ve seen it, seen the hint of desire brimming inside his eyes, a flicker that escapes the mask the Emperor puts on—Dimitri kisses you back. And if your swift brush of lips could ever be labeled as a kiss, then what Dimitri unleashed upon you could only be deemed a ravage.
He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, savoring and exploring your mouth as one might indulge in a delectable, forbidden fruit. Despite your efforts, you find yourself drawn into his passion, grappling beneath him as he intensifies the kiss with each passing moment, as though melding your bodies together.
There is no room to breathe, and your head reels from the lack of air.
A bruising grip is placed on your waist as Dimitri somehow deepens the kiss further, his tongue exploring every inch of you, and as you attempt to pull away, he presses forward, biting your lip almost as a form of punishment.
A low whine escapes your throat, seemingly satisfying Dimitri as he hums softly into your mouth. Then, finally, ever so finally, he ends the kiss, leaving you gasping for air.
Tears well in your eyes as you gaze up at him, a half-smirk playing on his lips while he hovers above you, still gripping both your wrists firmly in his single hand, still unaffected by the poison after how much time has passed. How... is this be possible? Is Dimitri perhaps immune to such poison?
As realization washes over you, the half-smirk on Dimitri’s face transforms into a full one. "The poison on your lips is sweet, oh assassin," he whispers, "but in my opinion, the kiss is far, far sweeter."
"You...!"
As you prepare to kick the Emperor in his groin out of extreme frustration, he releases his grip on you, rising from the bed before straightening his attire. "You have passed, my assassin. And henceforth, you will serve me, and me alone," he announces, voice ringing clear inside your head.
You blink, letting his words sink in before narrowing your eyes at Dimitri, who is now sitting languidly on one of his many comfortable chairs in the room. “Just what are you talking about?” His words make little sense, and you feel an undying urge to hurl the nearest object right at his face.
"Who do you think orchestrated the countless assassinations on my dear self, oh assassin of mine? I seek only the finest, and while I knew no one could truly ever succeed in killing me, thus far, your attempt has been the closest."
You push yourself off the bed, striding towards him with your fists clenched. "This is all beyond ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many of us were tasked to end your life?"
"I do."
You cross your arms with a sigh. "So, what now? Is my task over?" The room is far too cold now after you have tasted the warmth that is your Emperor, and your job is clearly over, now that you have, somehow, been forcefully given a new one instead.
Dimitri responds, "You are to be my assassin. I will point the way, and you will obediently follow, with no questions asked. To kill whomever I send you to kill, to dispose of their bodies with no witnesses in sight, and to return to me when I have need of you. Is that clear?"
You roll your eyes at his arrogant tone but then nod obligingly upon seeing the slightest hint of anger in his expression. "Yes, yes. Is there anything else you require of me, Your Majesty? If not, I will be taking my leave now."
"Remain still,” he commands, and a distant part of you screams in frustration as your body effortlessly complies. He approaches you slowly, offering a small smile before placing your mask back over your face.
"When we are alone, just the two of us, I expect you to address me by my given name, my assassin.” He pauses then, lifting your chin with a finger. You tense.
"And...?" you ask back, your voice shaky.
The Emperor’s gaze flickers towards your lips, concealed beneath the mask, as he issues his last command. “That last method of yours. I forbid you from employing it on anyone else,” he muses, tightening his grip on your chin, almost painfully so.
“Your lips are reserved solely for mine.”
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cold-kitty · 6 months
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Todays poll winner was... Yandere Naga! I love Nagas, really anything with a tail. I know that there's different Nagas, but this Naga is Centaur style: human from the hips up and a snake tail from hips down.
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Little backstory: Nagas are a rare species in this world, which puts a high price on them. They're shoved into zoos or killed for their tails and scales, some celebrities even own a few. This Naga, however, is determined not to let that happen to him.
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Contains: Mentions of murder, non-human yandere, kidnapping, yandere doesn't know his own strength and harms darling
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Yan!Naga who hates people, genuinely hates them. he hates them so much to the point that if someone so much as steps into his forest he kills them on the spot, he won't put himself in danger.
Yan!Naga who isn't a hateful person, he's just scared if we're being honest. people are scared of what they can't control or predict, and fear turns into hate.
Yan!Naga who always feels guilty after killing someone, especially regretting it if that person was innocent. he's definitely taught himself to differentiate threat from innocent though, so he doesn't kill as many people now.
Yan!Naga who keeps a close eye on you when you wander around his forest, trying to determine if you're a threat or not.
Yan!Naga who finds out you're not a threat, and continues on his way. he silently slips through the trees, his incredibly long tail holding onto branches for balance.
Yan!Naga who really, really doesn't like it when you lay down on his special rock, it was his after all. it was big and flat, big enough for him to coil his whole tail on (which means it's absolutely massive because his tail is like 25 feet long). it collected heat from the sun and warmed up anything that touched it, so he could understand the appeal.
Yan!Naga who definitely prepared to remove you from it. he reaches out to grab you, but abruptly stops when he sees your sleeping face. his hands starts shaking slightly and it balls into a fist.
Yan!Naga who definitely knows that he likes you, human or not, and he wants you to be his.
Yan!Naga who cozies up next to you on the rock, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close. warm...
Yan!Naga who coils his tail around you, one of the greatest shows of affection for his people.
Yan!Naga who loves your warmth, even more than the warmth his rock provided.
Yan!Naga who gets scared when you start to stir awake. no no no no no no no! shit, he's gonna see me, he's gonna hate me!
Yan!Naga who watches your eyes widen and your mouth open in a scream. he immediately slams a hand over your mouth, his own eyes wide and his body shaking with yours.
Yan!Naga who feels you trying to squirm away, but he doesn't let you. he squeezes his tail tighter and tighter around your torso and legs to keep you in place, and he hears a gut-wrenching crunch.
Yan!Naga who immediately lets go of you as you let out a bloodcurdling scream into his hand, tears dotting in his eyes. oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck! i hurt him!
Yan!Naga who watches you roll onto your side, sobbing. he rolls you gently onto your back again, softly pressing his fingers into the side you're holding. he stops as you cry out, but he definitely felt something. a broken rib.
Yan!Naga who carefully picks you up, careful not to hurt you anymore. he starts carrying you to an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods, where he stays at night.
Yan!Naga who slowly sets you down in his 'nest', a large pile of blankets and other soft cloths with a him-sized debt in the middle, AKA a huge crater.
Yan!Naga who wraps your side with a soft cloth from the pile, tying it tight enough to hurt but would help heal the fracture.
Yan!Naga who curls up against you again, holding you so loosely that it feels like he's not even there.
Yan!Naga who will provide for you, now until forever, hurt or not.
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I hope your easter was great!
~🐈‍⬛
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barefoot-joker · 8 months
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Snake in the Garden~Yandere! Lucifer X Reader
Hey, guys! I hope you all are well! Today I bring you a Yandere! Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) story. I do apologize if he's OOC, I tried to make him a bit suave. I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!
Words: 2105
Warnings: Snakes, Kidnapping, Swearing
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
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I hummed as I slipped on my straw hat and sandals. Today was gardening day and I was very excited to be outside. My garden was my passion. It was something to look forward to each day after work. It was especially nice in the eighty degree weather we were having, cool breezes making it bearable to be outside. 
Grabbing my metal bucket with my shears, trowel, and gloves, I made my way out the back door of my house. My neighbor Terry was sitting on his porch rocking in his chair, basking in the sunshine. When he saw me he waved. “Yello, Y/n! Enjoying the day?”
“Of course! How about you Mr. Johnson?”
“Oh you know, just taking a sunbath while the wife is out grocery shopping. If you catch my drift.”
“Perfectly.”
“Well have fun, little lady!”
“Will do, thank you!”
I gave a simple wave and headed towards my small garden. It wasn’t the most spectacular thing, only having five or six rows of vegetables, but I was so proud of my little paradise. I set my bucket down and walked down the row of beans, inspecting each one. My humming continued as I began picking and gently setting the vegetables in my pail. As I was working I heard something hissing. Confused, I looked around and didn’t see anything. I turned back to my work. It was silent for a moment until the hissing continued. I glanced around when suddenly my eyes caught sight of something white in the bushes. I stood up and walked over, pushing the foliage to the side. I gasped when I saw a white snake, its pale pink underbelly had a large gash. I slowly reached down and stroked its back. The snake turned its head, the red eyes staring me down. “Hey there, little fellow. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt ya.”
As I continued to stroke its back, the snake must have understood my message. “Let’s get you patched up, little guy.”
I gently grabbed a hold and made sure to cradle him close. Walking back inside, I set him in my kitchen sink and went to grab supplies. I made my way to the bathroom where I grabbed some gauze and disinfectant from a cupboard. I then returned back to the kitchen. I lifted my scaly friend to flip him over and started to rub some disinfectant on his gash. I grabbed some paper towel and dabbed it dry. “Almost done, little fellow.”
Ripping off some gauze, I carefully wrapped it around the wound. Tying it off, I sealed it with a kiss from the fingertips. “And, all done! Not my best work, but it’ll do.”
The snake’s tongue flicked out in appreciation. “You know what? I think I’ll name you Red. You know, after your very beautiful red eyes!”
The white snake hissed and slithered closer to the edge of the sink. I picked him up and cuddled him close as we walked back outside. When we made it to my garden I gently let him down before I went back to work. Red stayed the whole time I was outside, slithering alongside me. When it was my time to head inside, I said my goodbyes and watched him slither back into the bushes.
After my run in with Red I would see him every time I entered my garden. I would lay out some greenery for him to eat and some water to drink all the time. He would even wrap himself around my arms as I worked. One day as I was preparing my small table, Red came out of the bushes as per usual. He slithered up my leg and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Red, that tickles! Stop! I have to get this ready!”
He just stayed there. “You silly boy.”
I caressed the top of his head and set up my nice (favorite color) tablecloth. Just as I was placing two mugs down, I heard a male voice call my name. Red slid off my leg and curled down by the table leg. I turned to see my boyfriend s/o standing at my back door. “S/o!”
I ran at him and gave a big hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“Me too. We’ve been planning this little lunch date for a while.”
I led him over to the table and we sat. “I made us some tea. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, honey. You know I’m down to try anything.”
We both took a sip from our cups. “So, how has your garden been going?”
“Pretty well actually. All of my vegetables have been thriving, which is nice. I even met a new friend!”
“A new friend? Well I’d love to meet them.”
“Hold on one second.”
I leaned under the table and gently picked up my snake buddy. “This is Red. Isn’t he gorgeous? I’ve never seen a snake with a pink underbelly before.”
“Me neither. Can I see him?”
“Of course!”
I started to hand him over when suddenly Red struck forward and sunk his fangs into S/o’s hand. “Ow! God dammit that hurt!”
“Red!”
I set him down and gently took my boyfriend’s hand. “Are you alright?”
“No, your fucking snake bit me!”
I sucked on my teeth. “It does look bad. Here, let’s take you to the clinic.”
We stood up and walked to my car. I had him sit in the passenger seat while I drove.
Hours later I had dropped off S/o at his apartment. We had gotten him some antibiotics and luckily Red wasn’t poisonous. Thank god. I sighed as I slipped off my shoes and walked into my living room. I was looking at the floor when suddenly I let out a gasp. Standing staring at some of the photos on my wall was a short man, his back towards me. From what I could see he wore a big white hat, white and red jacket, white puffy pants and tall black boots. At the sound of me entering, the man turned and I couldn’t help but let out another gasp. The stranger had white skin, short blonde hair and red circles on his cheeks. His red eyes were quite striking as they seemed to stare into my soul. “Ah Y/n, you’re back! Jolly good.”
“W-who are you?”
A black cane with an apple on top magically appeared and the man gave a theatrical bow. “How rude of me. My name is Lucifer dear, but you’re probably more familiar with calling me Red.”
“R-red? But you’re a person and he was a snake…wait a minute. Lucifer? As in the Devil?”
He let out a dark chuckle and I stepped back upon seeing the two rows of sharp teeth. “Exactly!”
I gulped and ran off, trying to head for my front door. I screamed when he appeared in front of me, but this time dressed in green. I bolted towards my back door but he reappeared, this time in red. A few more Lucifers in different colored clothes surrounded me, parting to let the original through. “Look Mr. Satan sir, I didn’t summon you, nobody sacrificed me, nothing like that! Why don’t you just return to Hell and forget this ever happened!”
His cane came up under my chin and lifted my head to look into his eyes. “And forget the lovely lady that helped me? Not a chance! I was lucky I stumbled upon you that day. You see, I had gotten into a fight with a contractor and he got quite a few hits in. I got away with a stomach wound and that’s when I slithered into your life. You patched me up and made me whole!”
His face got closer to mine as he told his tale, our noses almost touching. “You’re so intoxicating, dear. Just like the apple I offered to Eve.”
My breath hitched as his lips got close. “Okay, I helped you. Now why can’t you just go away?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why not? Please, leave me alone.”
A few tears collected in the corners of my eyes and he was quick to wipe them away. “I’ll explain in due time. But I’ve wasted enough time. We need to get going.”
“Going?”
“Yes! You’re coming to Hell with me!”
My eyes widened and I attempted to flee. His arm wrapped around my waist and with the other he waved his cane in the air. Golden dust began to accumulate on the floor, swooshing around and around until a portal formed. The arm around my waist forced me to walk with him. He threw his cane into the air and like magic it disappeared. “Now this may cause a slight headache but I’ll be sure to tend to it when we arrive.”
“No please-”
“In we go!”
He forced us to jump forward and I let out a shriek. I tightly closed my eyes and my stomach lifted into my throat as we fell. This feeling stayed until I landed on something soft. My body was tense as I slowly opened my eyes. It seemed we had landed in a foyer of sorts. The large marble fireplace had a roaring blaze going and from what I could see out the large Victorian windows it was night outside. The dark red clouds swirled like my nerves as I watched Lucifer fluff his jacket. He turned to me and smiled. “I apologize if I frightened you, my dear. It wasn’t my intention. I know first time portal jumping can be quite tedious.”
He adjusted his hat before sitting next to me on the deep red velvet chaise lounge. “Now then I know you skipped lunch since you took your little boy toy to the hospital, so how about some dinner? I can cook a mean steak!”
The situation was starting to be too much to handle and I couldn’t help the sobs that wracked my body. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Shh, shh. There, there.”
Lucifer wrapped his arms around me in a hug and I could feel his claws combing my hair. “It’s alright, little apple. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
He just made me cry harder. “I just want to go home!”
“This is your home now. I know it’ll take some getting used to, but I promise if you give Hell a chance you’ll forget all about silly Earth and that wretched boyfriend of yours.”
His claws dug in a bit when he brought up S/o. It made me shudder. “But he doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here for you and that’s most important.”
He pulled away slightly to wipe at my eyes, his touch gentle compared to before. “You know what will cheer you up? A nice cup of spiced hot cocoa! I’ll be right back.”
He stood and made his way towards the white door. Before leaving he gave me a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”
The door shut softly. As soon as he was gone I quickly looked around trying to find an exit. I spotted a door opposite me. I ran to it, threw it open, and rushed out of the room. My legs carried me far as I dashed through the spiraling halls, rushing down a grand staircase, and arriving at what I assumed was the front door. I yanked them open and before I could step out an angry hiss made me pause. Two large golden snakes sat on the doorstep and stared me down harshly. I slammed the door shut and urged myself to breathe slower. “I see you’ve met David and Goliath.”
My head shot up to see Lucifer standing there without his jacket, a faint smirk on his lips. “Why the heck do you have giant snakes on your property?!”
“To protect us. Being the rulers of Hell comes with a target on your back.”
“What do you mean rulers?”
“I brought you here for a reason, Y/n, silly goose!” 
He began walking towards me. “I intend to court you and make you my Queen. I’ve been alone for seven years. My wife and I split and my daughter and I don’t have the best relationship. However, I intend to rectify that, my sweet apple. You and I are going to be together forever.”
He stopped in front of me and held my face in his hands, thumbs gently rubbing my cheekbones. My heart sank as I realized I wasn’t getting out of this any time soon and the look of adoration in Lucifer’s eyes made that fact.
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tiyoin · 8 months
Text
what if alastor’s darling went to heaven 😧
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cw: heavy manipulation, heavy gaslight, alastor being alastor (whom is a shit stirrer,) poor charlie is getting caught up in alastor's schemes again
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he’s yandere (platonic or romantic, up to you idc, but I hc him as ace) ofc he’s gonna want you by his side for all of eternity!
maybe that’s why he wants to involve himself with the hotel. so he can get close enough to heaven, just so he can tear your wings off and drag you down to hell with him.
of course he tells charlie about you once she gets the go ahead for the meeting. he asks her to give you this letter if she has the chance.
vaggie strongly opposes this once she see’s husk’s reactions to the mentioning of you. husk, the brute stand-offish bar tender stilled. the bar counter he was busy wiping down left forgotten as his head snapped to alastor’s.
yet his eyes met vaggie’s
“don’t let her get that letter. don’t let alastor near her”
she got the message loud and clear.
about to take the letter from alastor, he flicked his fingers away as his head snapped to hers. her eyes widened.
charlie was too busy gushing about ‘alastor long lost ‘lover’’ that she didn’t notice the hotel’s atmosphere change. the sudden dip in temperature, and the distant sounds of horses.
his eyes stopped boring into hers and snapped to husk, who started cleaning with stupor.
“miss vaggie..” charlie had stopped her bit and joined back to the conversation. off handedly noting how cold it was as alastor handed her the letter.
“i do appreciate your eagerness” his eyes squinted “in delivering this letter, but charlie here” he pats charlie’s head “is the only one i trust to do the job.” he smirked. fully aware of the silent conversation the two employees had.
vaggie gulped, backing away with her hands in faux surrender as charlie once again told him that she wouldn’t let him down!
vaggie didn’t have a good feeling about this. you two were separated for a reason.
he was in hell for a reason
plus it was illegal for believers and sinners to have any kind of contact, as that would violate heaven..
vaggie knew she shouldn’t talk. let alone question alastor. but he was planning on committing a carinal sin.
clipping an angels wings and watching them fall was the worst sin of all.
vaggie couldn’t wrap her head around it. did he really love you? or was he bored and wanted to take being an ‘overlord’ to the next level. to do one thing a sinner, let alone a citizen of hell could ever do.
cause a fallen angel.
“shouldn’t you let her be? you could get her- us into serious trouble by giving her that letter. who knows what might happen. we could get punished and she could”
“fall?“ he finished for her, eyebrow quirked with that same cocky grin on his face.
“what better way to help our group of sinners than to have an angel to lead us to salvation!” his grin widened, yet she never once met his piercing eyes. he squeezed his fist to show emphasis; determination, if you would.
“my y/n is nothing but a saint who devoted themselves to helping people in their life. she was even kind to give dear ol’ me special attention-“
“gross” vaggie cut in, alastor eyes snapped to her for the briefest moment, his facade cracking the tiniest bit before he continued; “this establishment is certainly in need of their expertise if we want the hotel to successfully reform sinners!”
charlie’s smile faltered, “but… she’d be kicked out of heaven…”
forever
that word rang through everyone’s minds. like how lucifer gave the apple to eve, alastor snaked around charlie.
“it’s a necessary evil, is it not?” he questioned, one by one his claws fanned onto her shoulders, his head next to hers as he whispered: “think about all the people we could help, they could help. they should know better than anyone how people in heaven are, what they act like, how they get there-“ he leered at vaggie
“from their own personal experience of course! and it’s so cold and lonely at night without my precious” he sniffles, grabbing a handkerchief from one of sir penticols egg boi’s.
“but we want people to get into heaven… not kicked out” she trails off, suddenly thinking about her father.
alastor rubbed her shoulders before sighing. he detached himself from charlie as stopped in front of her, next to vaggie.
“very well then” he extends his hand mournfully to charlie, eyes locked into hers.
“then there’s no point in having you deliver my love letter anyway” charlie looks at his hand, then his face, before looking at the slightly crumpled letter.
“please, charlie, don’t make this harder for me” alastor continues, empathizing his hand.
charlie looks at vaggie, then to the letter, then to the door and finally at alastor.
“…i’ll think about it” she mutters quietly, tucking the letter into her jacket as alastor’s sad demeanor changes like a mask falling off.
“wonderful!” he grabs charlie and vaggie by the shoulders and starts hearding them towards the portal. yapping their ears off about how they’ll do amazing, and that heaven ‘won’t know what to do once they see you both.’
but vaggie continued to look back, husk’s slightly turned up face didn’t betray the emotion on it. one she never thought she’d see on him.
pity.
charlie left first, tugging vaggie in as she met alastor’s twinkling eyes, and shit eating grin as he waved.
alastor had won, and vaggie knows he’s going to get ready to celebrate his spoils.
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i edited it and added some more… things 🤭
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