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#yandere specialist
theyanderespecialist · 7 months
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Dance with me darling (Yandere Alastor x Michelle (Me The Yandere Specialist) (Valentine gift)
[Made by my partners as another gift for Valentine's Day FLUFF (on tumblr) @mamamaries THEY ARE BAE THE BEST LOVE MUFFIN] 
Alastor hummed as he sat in the radio station. It was Valentine's Day, and the radio host was working late. He'd already called to let his girlfriend Michelle know.
He was sure she was exactly where she normally would be when he was late. Curled up on their couch with the blanket his mother had crocheted for her, drinking some hot tea, and listening to the radio frequency that his show happened to be on. Ah, how many nights he'd come home from a particularly demanding day to see her asleep listening to it.
He'd planned an incredibly romantic dinner for her, taking her out, treating her, and just indulging in her presence. Instead, his coworker would be late, and he had to stay until they came in.
Michelle wasn't new to Alastor being late, but she knew he would be here in a heartbeat if he could. While he enjoyed his job, he didn't enjoy being apart from her. He made this incredibly clear when after a long day, he would come crawling to her, and wrapping her in his arms from behind, just happy to hold her, even if she was in the middle of something. Sometimes he would simply just pick her up and bring her to their room so that he could cuddle into her. Of course- that was their little secret.
And she was doing exactly what he thought she would. She was waiting patiently for the jazz song playing to finish, waiting to hear his voice. Oh his voice..sometimes, that little transatlantic voice he used would slip, and that little Cajun accent he had would slip out, even when he tried so desperately to hide it. Michelle never understood why he would, she adored it. But that was his story to tell.
"Well, it's a very special night today, but I'm sure you already knew that. I hope everyone is holding their lovers close, whispering sweet nothings to them, and being there if they can be. I myself, have a darling at home, I have a feeling she's listening right now." She could hear the smirk in his voice, even from over the radio.
Alastor took a quiet breath. This was worth it, and it would be worth it when he did it at home to see her reaction in person~
He leaned into the microphone, changing the track to one of her favourite songs. "When I hear this song, I think of my perfect little darling, the light of my life..mawn ange~" he purred out as Michelle who'd been smiling shyly up until that point stopped. Her face went a deep red as she covered her face.
"When ah get home mawn ange, we're gonna dance together to our song." He said, turning on the tune as it came through the speakers. He smiled before his coworker came in- and without even greeting them, he shot up and left.
When he got home, he could see Michelle still on the couch, her face red and just looking at the radio in shock and then at Alastor. First off, he used his accent, on air, to talk about her. Second, he remembered their song. Third off, he wanted to dance, meaning he wanted her to touch him back.
Alastor liked touching her, and he liked when she touched him, but he was finicky about when she could touch him back. This was a pretty big deal. Also- he was soaking wet from the heavy rain outside.
She noticed the flowers in his hand, her favourite flowers..and a little stuffed animal. He probably stood outside for the flowers, hence why he was so wet, and his coat was keeping the stuffed animal dry. Michelle could feel her heart swell as her face got redder.
"Mawn ange, ya look so cute like dat~" he said as he walked over, leaning down to kiss her. "Come on, up ya get." He said as she took his hands when he offered them. "Al- you're gonna get me wet." "shh.." he pressed his forehead against hers as his fingers slotted between hers, his other hand on her waist. "Let me hold mawn Cher..~" He kissed her forehead as their song came back on, and he lead her around the room, both just enjoying each others presence, taking comfort as the old radio played in the background and the rain beat against the roof. 
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ozzgin · 6 months
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Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader
I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror
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It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.
Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.
Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.
It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?
You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.
Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.
Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ
You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.
It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.
The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.
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screeching-bunny · 10 months
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Saw that requests were open, and maybe can you do this one? ⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄
Request- A master manipulator yandere husband that’s been with his wifey (us) since childhood. That’s right, we childhood sweethearts <3 He lovingly molded us into a dependent stepford wifey, cause what’d we do without him? He’s always been there to protect, provide, and care for us since we were young, why stop now into adulthood?
Love to have this as HC format with some dash of dialogue if possible to show some of his personality!
Also I loved your latest CEO yandere, what’s his name? He’s a favorite of mine now. Love the ones that spoil you rotten and can’t live without you!
Yandere! Husband Hcs
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You��
A/N: Yandere! Ceo currently doesn’t have a name rn but don’t worry he will soon!!! Thank you so much enjoying him!!!
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🌟 Yandere! Husband has been friends with you since you were children. From the moment you got out of the car and started to get your things out of the moving van, he was absolutely hooked. He practically rushed his little legs over and started to enthusiastically introduce himself to you and your family. He was honestly so thrilled to learn that you were the same age as him and going to be attending the same elementary school as him. When you first started attending school Yandere! Husband made sure to hold your hand no matter where you went. Whenever anyone asked he would say that he was only doing this to make you more comfortable (he’s doing this for his own enjoyment). This is a habit that stays even in your adult life. No matter where the two of you are, he is always holding your hand lovingly.
🌟 Yandere! Husband in elementary school used to get so upset whenever someone would try to approach you to play with them. Whenever someone did this he would always try to do petty little things to them such as trip them, tattle tale on every little thing they did, and sometimes get even a little physical. At the time he wasn’t exactly sure why he was feeling these awful emotions but what he was one hundred percent sure on was that he didn’t want anyone to take your attention off of him.
Random elementary student: “You can’t keep doing this! You’re acting like they’re yours! They can play with whoever they want, so stop acting like you own them!”
Yandere! Husband: “...” Coming to the realization that he loves hearing that. The idea of you being solely his causes his heart to beat even faster. “Mine, I like the sound of that.”
🌟 Yandere! Husband made sure to protect you from any bullies that ever tried to harm you. He wanted to be seen as a savior in your eyes and would brutally beat up anyone who tried to harm you. If he wasn’t physically strong enough to beat them then he would do everything in his power to frame them for something and get them expelled from school. He definitely has some sort of savior complex when it comes to you. Yandere! Husband made it a mission to be your first kiss when the two of you were going to graduate elementary and go into middle school. He wanted to be your first in everything and felt this was the first step into making you his. Your first kiss had been with him in his bedroom while you were over to play videogames.
Yandere! Husband: “Come on, this is the first step we gotta take in order to grow. Our first kiss has to be with someone special and you're the specialist person I know!”
Just like that, the two of you were leaning in and that was how Yandere! Husband successfully stole your first kiss.
🌟 Yandere! Husband was still stuck to your side even during puberty. It was during this time that he started getting attention from a lot of people due to his looks. He made sure to always ignore or reject them due to only having eyes for you. Yandere! Husband makes sure that your classes are all with him. Believe it or not but Yandere! Husband is extremely smart and a model student. He will make sure to point out how you are lacking academically therefore you need someone to tutor you (even if you don’t) to both teachers and the principal in order to be in the same classes as you. Yandere! Husband will make small and very subtle passive aggressive remarks about how you aren't that academically intelligent and that you need him by your side. At some point you start to believe this and believe that you need him to tutor you everyday in order to survive school.
Yandere! Husband: “It’s okay if you’re not good at anything. As long as you have me by your side, I’ll take care of you no matter what. Even if we’re old and wrinkly.”
🌟 Yandere! Husband has successfully isolated you from making friends by the time you two are in high school. You basically have no friends but him. This was mainly due to the fact that he would always try to outdo the person you were trying to befriend in order to make them seem boring. Having romantic feelings for anyone other than him was off limits. If you ever did have a crush on someone then Yandere! Husband would absolutely destroy them. He would make sure to spread the nastiest rumor about them and cause them so much shame that they would have to move away from your town in order to avoid further embarrassment. It’s probably around highschool that Yandere! Husband officially asks you out to be his lover. He makes sure to go all out while asking you out in order to make you feel special.
🌟 Yandere! Husband is proposing to you the moment the two of you graduate highschool. Don’t worry about funds, he’s a Nepo baby and will inherit his dad’s company. He definitely wants you to be his housespouse when he’s ready to go to college and work a job. He wants you to depend on him and hates the idea of you being independent without him. In order to make sure this never happens, he manipulates you into thinking that you can’t do anything without him and around. So why don't you sit still and look pretty for him when he gets home.
🌟 Yandere! Husband picks out everything when it’s time to get married. He’s a complete groomzilla and wants everything to be absolutely perfect. When he sees you in your wedding attire for the first time he definitely tears up a bit. You’re just so beautiful. Domestic life with Yandere! Husband is peaceful and calming. Yandere! Husband imagines you all the time while he is at work. When he drives home from work he likes to imagine how you would be waiting for him. Would you be waiting at the door for him or would you be asleep sprawled on the couch. He makes sure to always come home as fast as he can in order to wrap his arms around you. The sight coming home to you and a home cooked meal absolutely melts his heart. This is perfection to him and he’ll make sure to do everything in his power to protect it.
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animeyanderelover · 4 months
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I've just recently finally gathered the courage to buy a horror manga from Junji Ito and I've gone for Tomie and now that I've actually started reading it, I just can't stop thinking about having a female s/o based on a similar concept. Someone who has the uncanny ability to make people obsessed with her if they spend enough time with her and who always regenerates no matter how cruel her deaths are by the hands of very same people who fell victims to her strange powers and claimed to adore her.
After years of enduring death and obsession in an never-ending cycle again and again, I can only imagine how jaded and morbid reader would be with everything. She has fully embraced her cursed existence at this point because there is literally nothing she can do about it so at this point she has turned it all into a game. Every time someone else falls for her, she's basically playing the 'what Yandere type are you going to be?' in her head as she has seen it all. She has seen the possessive, the obsessive, the delusional, the overprotective, the clingy, the submissive and dominant, the worshippers and the sadists.
Reader can only sit back and watch with a mixture of pity and amusement in her heart as her newest victim is molded into another obsessive freak that she will live with and indulge their every whim for as long until they snap and she will die yet another death at the hands of her supposed lover.
There are a few worlds where I think such a reader would be especially interesting to let loose (by the way, there are spoilers for Chainsaw Man if you are an anime only):
In Hunter x Hunter I have two headcannons for a Tomie reader. Either she has a Nen ability. Considering that her mere presence would twist and change everyone's emotions as well as considering her regeneration abilities and other things she can do with her body, she'd either be in possession of two nen types which would be Transmutation and Manipulation or she would be a Specialist
The headcannon I consider to be far more intriguing though would be if reader would be a humanoid creature who originated from the Dark Continent but somehow found her way to the Known World. Imagine the Hunter Association or the Known World Government finding out about your existence and hiring skilled Hunters and assassins to track you down and murder you before your abilities could cause any panic.
Imagine Chrollo and the Phantom Troupe catching wind of the situation that is currently being hidden from public. Chrollo, who would be instantly intrigued to track you down and see for himself what a creature from the Dark Continent is capable of and who would keep you as his most priced treasure the moment the troupe has finally found you after searching for you for a long time. Who has to share with the rest of the Phantom Troupe as your mere presence eventually gets to them too, to some sooner than to others and who notices your mild surprise that they actually work together insted of slaughtering each other, something you must be used to seeing. Chrollo, who shares with you experiences in the Known World and adores listening to your stories about the Dark Continent where you were born.
To make it even more interesting, let's assume that you are caught and kept around the time Hisoka has infiltrated the Troupe. Hisoka, the only member Chrollo doesn't trust to leave you alone and neither do any of the other members. There are usually at least two other spiders with you when Hisoka is around but the clown takes it with slightly infuriated amusement as he gives brief glances in your direction, patiently waiting for the day where he can keep you for himself. He has to give it to Chrollo after all, the man knew just how special you'd be when he decided to go after you. He can't wait to steal you away right under the nose of the criminal~
Another possible scenario would be that the Zoldyck Family is hired to hunt you down and capture you as they were informed that you are akin to an immortal being. Imagine Illumi spending months tracking you down and successfully capturing you, though that is only because you do not resist when he finds you, only to never hand you over to the government. Instead he keeps you, black eyes staring fascinated at you whenever he sees you, his cold skin tingling whenever he touches yours, his chest clenching with a sensation he can't quite grasp. He only knows one thing though. That he needs more of whatever it is he feels when he sees you and touches you.
I've already explored this world with a Tomie reader before in this post but Jujutsu Kaisen would literally be perfect because reader could literally be the enbodiment of the curse of obsession which could be used to explain her immortality. No matter how many times she is killed or even exorcised, she will be reborn for as long as people obsess over someone else, no matter how superficial or deep their feelings really are.
Suguru would be an interesting choice that I didn't talk about in the Hc's I linked since he uses Cursed Spirit Manipulation to control curses. The question would be though whether or not Suguru would be able to exorcise and consume you to enable him to gain control over you and summon you at any given time he wishes. Ironically enough a relationship with you in a scenario where you would be a curse would probably be better for you than if you were human since Suguru doesn't look down on you nor would he judge you for your nature as it is the negative emotions of humans from which you were created. You have shared with him some stories of the past where you were murdered from non-sorcerers when they lost control due to your powers and it only fawns his hatred against the monkeys. There are always sweet promises whispered into your ears that he'll never hurt you like they did and you can only wait half-interested whether or not he will remain true to those words.
We could also go way back in time to the Heian Era and simply crown you as the Queen of Curses who stood by Sukuna's side as obsession over someone else is as ancient as the concept of love in all its twisted and radiant forms itself. For a curse to be so strong that it can even influence other curses would stir Sukuna's interest, though he never expected to fall under your spell himself. He is somewhat displeased that his resistance is that weak as he has had multiple women warming his bed before he consumed them and enjoyed their flesh yet he knows that you are a being that will be reborn even if he kills you. Now that you have done it and seduced him though, he'd much rather have you pay the price for it. From now on you shall be his queen. When he is sealed away, you go into hiding. You feel no deep grief in the centuries that follow, though Sukuna has certainly been more memorable than the thousands of other people that follow him, one as bland as pathetic as the next one. It isn't until the 21st century that Sukuna is finally reincarnated into Yuji's body, thrilled and excited about this chance to finally live again. Now he only needs to find his Queen again...
As someone who just recently finished Chainsaw Man, in this universe the reader could just be a devil who has the form of a young woman. You'd probably also assume the role of the Obsession Devil in that scenario and whilst you could just be a wild devil, I think it'd be much more interesting if you actually work sort of together with the Devil Hunters without being locked away like some other devils are. It's rather rare for you to make contracts yourself even if multiple Devil Hunters have willingly offered limbs, senses and much more to you to form a contract with you as you only accept a contract if you are actually interested in a Devil Hunter. Instead you find yourself often negotiating with other devils to convince them to form contracts with Devil Hunters as your influence to make people infatuated with you even affects other devils.
Extreme femme fatale vibes and interesting scenario would be if it is Makima aka the Control Devil herself who is no exception to your abilities. What would make this so unique would simply be that Makima is, just like her devil suggests, someone who represents the fear of conquest and is a woman who is always in control, no matter the situation. That would so very much contrasts with the fear you represent since an obsession is rarely something that can be controlled and both of you are aware of her feelings she harbors for you. You have little capacity to care about people around you as years of living through the same events again and again have made you jaded towards the very idea of attachment and love but perhaps it is the uniqueness of the situation that perks your interest as she can tell that you are testing the waters with her. Are you willing to play the game with her? You should be prepared for the possible consequences if your answer is yes.
Kishibe is one of the few people who you have ever approached and asked for a contract as he caught your eye when he first joined and decades later he takes pride in the fact that he is the one you have held a contract with for the longest time. Your condition for a contract have always remained the same. The moment the Devil Hunter you were contracted to would stop being interesting to you, you wanted his heart and until that point, you would assist them whenever they desired your help. Some sane people would consider those conditions as nothing short of lunatic yet a Devil Hunter rarely survives if they do not belong to the crazy kind and the first time you approached him, he could already tell why you were as desired as you were by many Devil Hunters. Kishibe has survived for as long as he did precisely because he is a madman and that is why your interest in him hasn't faded to this day. You fulfill his every wish in this contract yet he has held himself back in comparison to some of your previous Devil Hunters, though some things are always the same. Like the few other Devil Hunters who had a contract with you, he proposed to you and it isn't the first wedding you went through yet it is the first time you have let a contract last as long to the point where both of you already had a silver wedding to celebrate 25 years of marriage. You're going to miss this one the most when his time comes...
In One Piece a reader with such mysterious abilities could of course be suspected of having eaten a Devil Fruit but I personally would like you to instead be an ancient being that, according to rumors, originated from somewhere in the New World, though nothing about you has ever been revealed. Throughout history, you have only gotten yourself involved a few times yet whenever you did, you were the demise of entire nations yet the full extent of your powers remains as shrouded in darkness as the rest of you. Only the highest-ranked people in the Marine and are even aware of your existence and the World Government has been after you ever since they were established. Not only are your powers frightening but it is also the knowledge that you hold that has made you the most dangerous being in the Grand Line.
You have watched history unfold in front of your eyes, know about the Ancient Weapons and other events that occured throughout time that no one is supposed to know, know even about the darkest secrets of the Navy and know exactly where the proof for their hidden atrocities lies that would ruin their reputation. Whilst the citizens on every island do not know of your existence, in the Grand Line exist tales of you that parents commonly tell children as bedtime stories where you are usually portrayed as a monster. You know of that but you do not care as an existence as long as yours has taught you best that you are not even remotely a human, though your appearance may fool others into thinking otherwise.
I'm not quite sure yet about individual characters in One Piece yet but since I just recently finished the Marineford Arc, I can't help but imagine that after essentially centuries of laying dormant and only being a silent watcher, you finally decide to take an active role when news of Fire Fist Ace's public execution reaches you. Your eyes and ears are everywhere, you always know what is happening in all different oceans after all, no matter how much the Navy may try to hide it from the rest of the world. Though the news of the execution are not kept as a secret this time and reach ears on every island throughout all of the seas. There are no heroic motives though as you make your way. You're just simply bored and decide that messing with the Marine, the pirates and all the people who will watch it all unfold might be amusing and provide some thrill, even if only temporary. The world is certainly going to shake when they find out that the monster from the fairy tale has always been there yet those who will be exposed to your aura on that day will probably go out of their way to chase you down, pushed by their ever-growing obsession. You do not mind. It has been way too long since you've been entertained by them after all. You're just hoping that at least a few of them will prove to be more than yet another waste of your time...
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yanderemommabean · 8 months
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Yandere red room idea
The Red rooms. It’s not something He really thought he’d find himself using but here he is, walking up the corridor with a key card in his pocket. It’s definitely a secret society type of deal, code words, secret hand gestures, one use keys, all the security one could imagine. The first time he even heard of such a place like this, he assumed it was dark internet fetish mumbo jumbo. 
But after he found you, well, the right people found him and led him to the right place. Not a room of pain, but one of pleasure, to show his darling all of his intense love and emotion and then some. 
He hasn’t even booked a room yet, he’s here as a sort of consultation visit. To see if he really has the balls to do this and show that yes, he adores you, and that his love outweighs anyone else’s. 
Sliding the card into the door brought him into an empty room besides a desk, a few chairs, and two large filing cabinets. He takes a look around, quickly surveying the area, before stepping inside fully and sitting in the chair facing the large office chair in front of him. Before he can let his shoulders relax, a man follows in behind him, followed by a woman as well, both dressed professionally and seeming very…happy. 
“Ah! It’s good to see you, Mr-” 
“Lee, you can just call me Lee. And you are?” He asks, gesturing to the woman standing beside the man in the suit as he begins to open a manilla envelope, spreading the papers out on the table. 
“Victoria. We can leave it at that. I can tell that you know secrecy and customer privacy are our top priority with this business” She says with a knowing smile, sliding the papers over to face them towards the doctor.
“Now, Lee, What we have here is a very basic outline of what we can do for you and that love bug you’ve found yourself. We celebrate rather than punish our loved ones here, and want them to understand that to their core! We find that the red room experience helps!” The man exclaims with excitement, but has yet to really introduce himself. 
Lee was told to expect that however. The leader behind this all was kind enough to reach out but he wasn’t to expect anything too personal. “All business” was his very aura, and Lee could respect that. He nods along as Victoria took the reigns, explaining some of their core beliefs before getting to what Lee really wanted to know. 
“We can make the room however you please, lease it for up to four days at a time with personnel who checks in every four hours with their own special keys, for the darlings sake. As much as we wish to fully trust our customers, we will not take the risk of them dying or being seriously injured in any way. As stated, this is a way to show love and we give you the tools to do so! “ Victoria then spreads apart the papers, pointing here and there as she explains a bit more, intriguing Lee with every bit. “We have romantic layouts like at a hotel, we have BDSM specialist rooms, we have very highly rated toys and devices that we inspect and clean before each room is ready, and we have a live stream option if you’re the type who thinks everyone should see the pleasure you’re darling is receiving! I personally recommend the tribbing machines with the black rose theme if you prefer the dom and sub type of vibe, but we can personalize however you like!” 
Huh. Wow. They’re very thorough aren’t they? 
The business man nods, sitting back in his seat as he adjusts his tie. “I started many companies in my life, all based on bringing smiles and joy, and it’s my personal belief that there needs to be a company looking out for your lover! Love, adventurous or more mellow, is a beautiful thing that our darlings need to be showered in as much as possible. If you’d like, this can also be set up in a way to just calmly express your love to your darling, but I will clarify that it isn’t guaranteed to go well…I advise getting our crews to pick them up and deliver them for you, with every person being given a  background check of course! Safety and security is what comes first for your darling” 
Lee was a bit flabbergasted to say the least. They talk so professionally, have such a strange ethic to them, and they act as if he’s about to buy a company or large house rather than finally get ahold of the love of his life. It’s…Odd but charming. He can’t say he’s turned away from this, in fact he has a few ideas for his own red room. 
“Are they CPR trained and do they have basic first aid knowledge?” Lee asks as he looks over some more of the photos, liking the array of toys they had up for use to add to the room, each one costing extra of course but for what he had planned…it wouldn’t be too bad. 
Victoria smirks, laughing lightly in amusement “I can see we’ve caught even more of your attention. We can make sure these personnel are trained for the pick up, but our permanent staff are already trained in first aid help and some, even small surgical emergencies. You know, always needing to be prepared and all”. 
They talk  a few more things out, Lee deciding that if these people were serious, then he could trust them. If they crossed him in any way, he’d easily rid at least a handful of them. He didn’t get that gut feeling he usually does when people are lying to him however. This felt thorough and legit and well…Professional. 
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you Mr Lee. We’ll be getting in touch with you shortly! You wont regret setting this up-” the business man says with a firm handshake, smiling in an almost uncanny way. “And remember, when you’re in a bind, one of our smiles will ease your mind"
-Mommabean (This was so silly but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!)
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alicerosejensen · 11 months
Text
Warning: Yandere!Older Leon; young reader (20-25 years old); kidnapping, pet names, not Stockholm Syndrome, but the reader no longer resists Leon; mentions of sex; mentions of pregnancy, apathy.
Synopsis: If you knew who Leon Kennedy was, you would have avoided him, but it's too late.
A/N: I'm bad at writing summaries and coming up with titles for this shit. Just a yandere Leon and his pregnant reader hidden from the whole world.
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It was raining incessantly for the second day, rolling down the glass of the second-floor window in large drops when you were lying on a straightened bed and staring unblinkingly at the weather raging outside in one of the wide warm hoodies. Even a favorite TV show or a good movie with delicious food could not brighten up the gloom of a gray day, because didn't want to get up and go down at all, especially since has already returned home.
Leon probably didn't bother to find out the weather forecast for the next few days, because he left the house on one motorcycle, which should have already been parked in the garage. You listened with bated breath to the heavy footsteps of his shoes as he climbed to the second floor after opening all these numerous locks on the front door. At some point, you even felt that small wave of fear that sometimes overwhelmed you when he was around.
You have been in his hands for more than a year, during which he suppressed all resistance but was never able to get what he wanted - your love. He probably should have turned to a specialist and fixed his head since he really didn’t understand why you didn’t love him and didn’t want to make contact, on the other hand, such an influence made you obey Leon and even enjoy sex with him after which you felt guilty. Ultimately, given the fact that Leon did not consider it necessary to protect himself, this resulted in undesirable consequences. For you, not for him.
When the bedroom door opened, you held your breath as he walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down, reaching out to you. Water from his wet hair dripped onto your face but he didn't seem to care as he leaned towards you placing one hand on your bump.
You didn’t even flinch or turn to him when his lips touched your neck.
"How are my pretty girl and our baby feeling?" the whisper sent a chill inside.
It wasn't worth the risk of testing his patience. You already tried and realized that it would be worse only for you but not for him.
Leon put his hand under your sweatshirt, pressing lightly on you, forcing you to turn to face him so that you were faced with the blue of his eyes, which looked at you with manic admiration.
“I...we’re fine,” you replied, watching him take off his wet leather jacket, throwing it somewhere towards the window and wrapping his arms around your pregnant belly.
The belly that you hated so much and preferred to wear oversized clothes so as not to notice it in the mirror until the last moment.
“My baby…” with trembling reverence, Leon put his head on your stomach, lifting up your hoodie, kissing the warm skin "my baby… Dad missed you two so much. You know, I brought gifts," he grinned, looking at you.
This sight made you sick, causing another surge of hostility towards him and your unwanted pregnancy.
"I want to see how your belly grows...how my baby grows inside you."
“Leon, I don’t think...” you didn’t finish as he interrupted you.
"Do not think!" He said authoritatively, sitting back on the edge of the bed with the intention of paying attention to you. “Will I think for the two of us or would it be more correct to say for the three of us?” that grin of his again
He probably didn't like that sweatshirt you were wearing, so he asked you to wait while he came down to get your gift. Leon quickly left the bedroom and you were able to breathe a little sigh of relief after straightening your clothes, although the happiness was short-lived and just a couple of minutes later Leon returned with a small white box wrapped in red ribbon, which he handed to you, sitting next to you.
"What is this?" you asked, looking at the light-weight box, afraid to open it, as if there was a bomb in there.
"Open it"
Your hands slowly reached for the ribbon, pulling it towards you. A thin strip of fabric fell into your lap, and you opened the lid of the box, putting it next to you on the bed, looking at a set of lace pajamas with an almost indifferent look, consisting of short light gray shorts that looked more like panties, and a pale pink T-shirt with a cute bow under the bodice. It matched the size, but would definitely emphasize your rounded belly.
"I'm sure this will suit you. It's like you're carrying my gift under your heart." He said, noticing the indifference on your face. “Don’t you like it, angel?”
You liked it before. You think that if he were a normal guy and not a psycho with a mania to control your life every breath, then you would be a gift, but in reality, no. However, it was better to lie.
“It's beautiful, I’m just tired. I don’t feel very well,” his hands immediately reached out to you and pressed you to him, stroking your head and kissing your temple.
"Oh, well, I'm already here for you." you snorted quietly, only thinking about how peaceful it was without him. “I want you to wear this today. In the meantime, let’s go, I want to show you something.”
You put the pajamas back in the box and had no desire to go with him, but Leon took your hand and hugged your waist, gently pushing you towards the door. He probably bought something for the baby too, but it was probably some small thing like a toy or a rattle, but in spite of that, he opened the door of an unfinished children’s room for you that still needed to be painted. He had already ordered a changing table and a baby chest of drawers, which arrived about three weeks ago and now stood alone in an empty room. Leon led you to the changing table and you saw two pairs of baby undershirts.
"couldn't help but buy for our baby" His hands continued to caress your belly, irritating you even more "Especially since I took a few unpaid days off and we can order other things."
“It’s too early for such purchases”
“We will be ready in advance,” another kiss fell on the back of the head, “especially since time will fly by quickly, before we have time to look back, our child will already be in our arms.”
This is what you are so afraid of. Leon doesn't even notice the fear of pregnancy and completely ignores your reluctance to become the mother of his child. Your eyes began to tear up looking at the children’s things that you wanted to tear and throw with all the pent-up rage in his face! You wanted to break all this furniture, because everything that happened to you was not your desire. And you didn’t want and don’t want this child.
Does he really think that you like being locked up in his house and carrying his child?! What has the government done to his brain that Leon thinks he has the right to control your life?
"What is it, angel?" Leon asked seeing tears in your eyes. His lips continued to kiss your head down to your neck. You couldn't even resist while he held you to his chest.
“I...don’t want to,” your voice cracked from the bitter lump in your throat.
Leon sighed irritably, making you a little scared, but nevertheless, tears flowed down your cheeks. His hands squeezed your waist almost to the point of pain as he turned you around to face him. A spark of incipient anger flashed in his pale blue eyes, but he pulled himself together, but for a short moment he looked away, trying not to break down. After all, he was already sure that he had suppressed all your resistance and convinced you that only he could take care of you in this cruel world. An oppressive atmosphere reigned in the nursery. Leon's silence was frightening, making you regret what you said. Under the gaze, wanted to shrink and cry somewhere in the corner of the room and finally wake up from all this nightmare.
"It's just hormones" Leon's dissatisfied tone did not let you be deceived. "A little excitement, that's all. Do you believe me, but I'm worried too? This is normal, because this is our first child."
You wanted to howl after those words. The thought that you would have to give birth to hated children from your abductor and stay locked up for days without permission to go out at least into the courtyard of the house did not inspire you with happiness. Leon controlled every aspect of your life and, of course, will control the lives of his children, who will definitely not be happy.
"You don't have to say that. When the baby is born, everything will get better, it will be a little hard for us at first, but you know, I'm thinking of putting a crib in our bedroom. So we don't have to run to another room when the baby wakes up." his gaze softened for a moment and he took your face in his hands, carefully wiping tears from his cheeks with his thumb "Just nerves okay? I know that we will be so happy as soon as this lump of happiness finally appears on our hands. I've wanted a family all my life and now I won't miss this opportunity."
"It was your dream, not mine." the words spoken had a touch of light courage, although they were uttered with apprehension and even despair.
"It will also be your dream" Leon kissed you on the forehead, pressing to his chest "We will be so happy. I promise"
"Do you really think I'm happy here? Do you really think it's okay to keep me under surveillance here like I'm a criminal? Do you really think I'll be happy to be the mother of a child I never wanted?!"
Leon grabbed you by the face harder, forcing you to hold your breath and your heart beat faster from fear. Of course, he never beat, but sometimes his punishments were worse than physical violence, but inside there was a glimmer of hope that he would be afraid to cause any harm because of your pregnancy.
"I'm doing this for your safety. Believe me, one day completely changed my life and I'm not going to lose the people I care about anymore. The world outside is very dangerous and you just can't survive without someone to take care of you, but that someone is me."
"If the world is as dangerous as you say, then why the hell do you decide to have children?"
A logical damn question! And Leon was clearly confused by it. But selfish desires sometimes overshadow the human mind.
"I'm trying to end this crap. Once I thought it was really wrong, but eventually I thought it over…what's wrong with coming from hell to a house where your real family is waiting for you? Cute kids from my beloved wife who would meet me at the door and whom I would hug. I didn't have a family," he said sadly, "I lost my parents too early, when I was still a child myself, and I always wanted my father to be proud of my achievements at school or teach something new. I hardly remember my mother's affection, but I can give it to our children!"
"This is not the answer to the question" You said without pausing like a statue in front of him clenched in strong male hands
"well…" Leon grinned loosening his grip, "in any period of humanity there have always been their own dangers: diseases, wars, famine, pandemics and so on. But if everyone thinks as I thought before, then humanity will definitely die out. My fear should not interfere with my happiness. The main thing is that I can take care of everything and keep my family safe."
His conviction of his own rightness was indestructible. Leon perceived your abduction and forcible detention as forced care for a loved one who could get hurt with an ordinary fork if he relaxed his vigilance a little. In the end, he grabbed your hand and dragged you down to the first floor, squeezing your fingers tightly, as if he was afraid that you might dissolve at any second. But, unfortunately, all past escape attempts were doomed to failure in advance. Perhaps if you play the obedient girl for a long time, pretending that they really love him and accept this abnormal care, then one day you will have a chance to sneak away, but how long will it take? A year? Two? By that time, the baby will already be born, and for some reason you were sure that his hypercontrol would only increase several times.
Suddenly a funny thought came to mind.
Leon once mentioned that he was a policeman. Apparently, he took the phrase "to serve and protect" too literally.
"What now? Will you punish me?" you asked feeling completely desperate because you were not sure that your acting could last so long that he would believe in this lie. Even if you run away, how long will it take him to find you? You can only escape from Kennedy to the next world.
Leon sat you down at the table intending to take care of your lunch, besides, it was certainly important to him that you eat properly and properly. He seems to have read all the books that said what pregnant women can and cannot eat. By the way, he ignored your question for a long time until you called out to him again.
"You are an obedient girl and don't do anything that could harm our child. I'm sure it's just hormones and nerves. When you give birth, you will feel the joy of motherhood"
As if not so!
You wanted to flush his love and care down the toilet because… you did not experience any Stockholm syndrome and if at the beginning of your acquaintance with Leon you experienced exceptionally bright feelings, perhaps even falling in love, now there was nothing but rejection. Although they don't want to admit to themselves that…sometimes his shoulder and gentle strokes were the most beautiful that you could only get in a lifetime.
In the end, you spent the evening on the couch watching some show curled up in a ball while Leon was sitting somewhere behind typing something on a laptop. He checked on you a couple of times and couldn't resist kissing you on the forehead, as if he thought that in front of him was a cute plush toy that needed to be cuddled. You didn't know what to do and whether you would ever be free again…maybe if one day he gets killed in the line of duty…
You stole a look at him when Leon was brushing his teeth in the bathroom and you were already lying in bed in that new lace pajamas. The thought was seductive and to some extent intoxicating, because perhaps it was his accidental death that could one day free you from this imprisonment.
Even when he lay down next to you, especially intently examining your bulging belly, which was noticeable in such clothes.
Leon pulls up his shirt and leaves a wet kiss near the navel while you scroll through this thought in your head.
Perhaps one day the higher powers will have mercy on you, and everything will end… But now, it seems, there was nothing else to do but just accept your inevitable fate and find himself back in the warm embrace from which gradually does not want to get out.
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pennyellee · 3 months
Text
chapter IX - lacuna
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
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pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader
genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, mentions of antidepressants, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, mentions of night terrors, mentions of self harm, manipulative behaviour, mentions of labotomy, medical cases, intimate life, diseases, “failed” pregnancy, alcohol, medication, etc.
beta read by @chaoticpuff17
word count: 8,7K
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
A/N: so yes, it took me a while to actually finish this chapter and as I mentioned - it’s shorter than what I usually want to write for lacrimosa. Truth to be told, this is what I can do for now till I get something better to write on. I don’t know when the next chapter will be written and up, so for now thank you for your patience, i actually didnt think i would write a chapter whilst im in US coz the only device on my person is my phone, but im very happy I managed to write something. This chapter is more of a prequel go what’s going to happen next. Many of you actually guessed/predicted some things right and for some you have to wait till the very end, we’re near it.
Massive thank you goes to @chaoticpuff17 who managed to beta read it despite both our situations being crazy rn, ily queen 🥹🫧🩵
Love you all, p.
m.list
lacuna (n.) a blank space, missing part
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The night was relentless, a symphony of thunderclaps and the steady drum of rain against the cobblestones. The celebrations of the famous Kkangpae toned down, and after some months, several trips to the barren debris land of where Yakuza reigned, they returned safely to the sanctuary.
Back where she cannot hide from him in the stables, kitchen or sunroom, switching from one room to another just to not be in his presence for longer than she wanted. Yet, he managed to steal her away when his frustration boiled up enough. Y/N could’ve hinted how much she doesn’t want him to sleep next to her all she wants, he kept sneaking in and out every time. Yoongi was patient, determined even. Determined to make things right this time by giving her space. But the wrenching feeling of not having her close enough consumed him, night, day and moon.
Yoongi kept his promise, giving Y/N the space she needed while gradually attempting to rebuild the trust that had been shattered. He was careful with his words, patient in his actions, and ever attentive to her unspoken needs. The pair worked on their friendship these past weeks, he wanted himself to be her person. The person that she would love and lean on.
But the young Buin might seem calm now, from outside, but her wit remained under the surface. She buried herself deep within her psyche and doctor Kim could do very little to “repair” her. Not even renown specialists who came to give the young girl a helping hand did not succeed.
Yoongi watched her from a distance yet at the same time he was so close, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was partly to blame for her withdrawal. He had been too harsh, too controlling. Now, he was paying the price. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to whisper apologies and promises into her ear. But every time he approached, he could see the fear and distrust in her eyes. It was a barrier he didn't know how to break.
Wang Xiaoqing’s wisdom was passed onto her, they whispered. But truth to be told, the elder woman, may she rest in peace, underestimated the new blood. The following legacy. Now, her kin suffers.
Yoongi wishes he never used the letter as leverage against her nor let her read it. At night he wonders whether that would change things. Whether by now she would be in love with him just as much he’s in love with her.
He sat down with the rest of his family at the dinner table after she broke down with yet another panic attack. The dining room was oppressively silent, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. It wasn’t even the end of January, and the snow was still prevailing outside. Yoongi sat at the head of the table, his expression a mask of stoic resolve, though his heart was anything but calm.
Y/N was conspicuously absent, her chair at the table glaringly empty. Yoongi's mind replayed the scene from earlier, the look of sheer panic in her eyes as she had crumbled under the weight of her emotions. He had wanted to reach out to her, to offer comfort, but he knew his presence would only worsen her distress.
Clearing his throat, Yoongi broke the silence, his voice strained but firm.
“I know you care about me. About this family—”
“I’ve made mistakes—mistakes that have pushed her to the edge.”
“No, Yoongi—” the right hand man straightened himself in his seat interrupting his leader.
Yoongi’s eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and sorrow as he turned to face his right-hand man, Namjoon. The room held its breath, tension crackling in the air.
“Namjoon, please,” Yoongi said, his voice weary. “My wife slit her throat, stop justifying my actions.”
Namjoon hesitated but nodded, leaning back in his chair, his expression still troubled. Yoongi took a deep breath, steeling himself to continue.
"I pushed her too far, and now she's breaking—”
“Now, I don’t know what your intentions are with my wife, but I forbid you from whatever you are putting into her head.”
Namjoon's eyes widened in shock at Yoongi's words, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right response. The weight of Yoongi's accusation hung heavy in the air, and the room seemed to grow even quieter, the tension palpable.
Yoongi's jaw clenched, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He had always trusted Namjoon implicitly, had relied on him as his closest confidant and advisor. But now, in the wake of Y/N's pain and suffering, he couldn't help but wonder if that trust had been misplaced.
“All of you.”
“Yoongi, I swear—” Namjoon began, his voice tinged with desperation. But Yoongi held up a hand, cutting him off.
“I don't want to hear it, Namjoon,” he said, his tone final.
“Whatever it is, I’m giving her the space to tell me herself.” Namjoon's gaze faltered under Yoongi's intense stare.
“I would never intentionally do anything to harm Y/N or come between you two. She's like family to me, too.” Yoongi's jaw clenched tighter, but he nodded curtly, acknowledging Namjoon's words.
“Seokjin.” He addressed the oldest man in the room.
“Yes, Yoongi?” Seokjin replied, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.
“She’s still taking those pills you gave her,” Seokjin's brow furrowed in concern at Yoongi's words. They were only a temporary solution before Seokjin decided that day to put her on barbiturates. She needs his help and if he cannot help her the way he knows it will be most effective, he’ll at least prescribe whatever will tone down her night terrors so she can sleep at nights.
"I'll talk to her," he said firmly. “But you know what would certainly help her—” Yoongi’s hand flew high to hit the table, making everybody twitch at the loud noise.
“No, Seokjin. No.” The family members exchanged solemn nods. Yoongi took a moment to compose himself, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration.
"She needs more support than we can provide on our own. We have to consider what's best for her.” Yoongi struggled to find the words to express his feelings. "I know, Seokjin," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "But that is going way too far.”
Namjoon leaned forward, his expression earnest. The youngest at the end of the table cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him, waiting for his input. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the tension in the room, before speaking up.
“Maybe you just need to stop shielding her in. Let her live a life—” Jungkook's suggestion hung in the air, a fresh perspective on the situation that caused the family members to exchange thoughtful glances.
Yoongi's brow furrowed as he considered Jungkook's words, the idea of allowing Y/N more freedom conflicting with his instinct to protect her.
“But what if she runs for the hills, Kook.” Park Jimin’s voice echoed from across the room, his hands busy pouring the strong liquor to seven crystal glasses. Yoongi's gaze flickered towards Jimin, setting the first glass in front of him.
"I can't bear the thought of her running away from me again," Yoongi admitted, his voice heavy with emotion. Hoseok nodded in agreement, his expression sombre.
Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, understanding Yoongi's apprehension. "I get where you're coming from, hyung,—” Jimin set down the last glass of liquor, his expression sympathetic.
“I’d say, nonetheless, she needs something to occupy her mind other than those thoughts.” Said Jimin sitting down on his chair while nursing his own glass of the booze.
"Maybe if we can find something that brings her joy, something to distract her—” Seokjin nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful.
“She studied, tasted her own freedom and now all she’s left with is being your wife.” Yoongi's heart clenched at Jimin's words, a pang of guilt washing over him. But still a large part of him was thinking why it is not enough.
“She can work with me once she’s better.” The doctor interjected. Yoongi's gaze shifted towards Seokjin, a flicker of hope igniting within him at the suggestion.
"You think she'd be up for it?" Yoongi asked, his voice tentative yet hopeful.
“Ah hyung you’re so in the dark—” Jungkook remarked. Jungkook sighed, his gaze meeting Yoongi's with empathy.
“She needs to feel like she has a say in her own life, like she's not just living for someone else.” Where this newfound wisdom arose, Yoongi did not know. But he was glad for the support of his family men.
Hoseok placed a reassuring hand on Yoongi's shoulder, his expression filled with empathy.
“She knows so much about herbs, remedies, I think she’ll be happy to help Seokjin.” Yoongi's heart swelled with gratitude for Hoseok's insight. He hadn't fully realised the extent of Y/N's knowledge and interests outside of their marriage and that needed to change.
“Don’t tell her just yet.” The right hand man remarked.
“Yes, I want to give her more time to recover before we come back to the sanctuary.” The other family members murmured their agreement, a sense of solidarity and understanding settling over them. After all, at the end of the day it is a happy wife, happy life.
But months later, Y/N understood that if there’s even a slight possibility that the scarred leader will grow for better, it would be a painfully long process. She realised so once he returned with his knuckles all bruised and bloodied one night. She tended to them, and he was basking under her touch. Despite everything, she couldn’t ignore the humanity in his pain.
Her eyes rolled and a loud sigh followed when she understood what was the cause of his lapse of senses. He had let his frustration and anger take over him, but rather than put it out on everyone else like he was known for, he silently left his office to vent his anger elsewhere. She guided him to sit down after she asked the maid to bring her everything she needed to clean his wounds.
Yoongi watched her, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and excitement under her delicate touch. The feel of her hands, so careful and tender, was both a comfort and a torment. The imagery masking all the darkness that loomed over them, they would fool even the Lord himself that this couple is one of love.
They sat in silence, the only sound the soft rustle of bandages and the distant rumble of thunder outside. Yoongi closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to him. She avoided him less and less. So why did he have to let his steam off so suddenly?
“You know—” she began, focusing on his other hand now.
“You’re not really setting a good example of “communication is the key ”, now do you?”
Yoongi's eyes flickered open at her words, a hint of guilt flashing across his features before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression. He couldn't deny the truth in her statement, nor could he easily articulate the tangled mess of emotions that swirled within him.
His mind drifted back to the hushed whispers, the concerned looks from Seokjin. Y/N was still fairly weak in terms of her health. Yet, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’ll come to tell him he’s going to be a father. Foolish of him, he knows. Selfish of him, he knows that too.
“I’m sorry, Dove.” He only muttered, forcing a kiss to her sphenoid bone, it was the only affection she rarely allowed him to show. Y/N knew that if she wanted to persuade him that she isn’t a flying risk, she’ll have to allow him to do more. She progressed slowly, with patience and space to breathe everything out.
The reason the young leader needed to vent his anger was obvious to Y/N. She heard the maid that so blatantly spied on everything she did, what she asked for, and whom she talks to on the telephone. Y/N was cautious, yet today, she had to ask for some feminine goods. She understood where his hope for a baby came from, he got himself to believe that once the monthly bleeding did not come the first, second nor the third month.
The young gal, however, knew that this has nothing to do with the possibility of her being pregnant. She still drank the remedy, just to be sure, and for her peace of mind as it bore too many demons already. The fourth month her body decided it’s time to function again and of course the devoted maid reported that right back to her husband whose hope for a child vanished.
“I was hoping we could go see Ma and little Bo Cheng before the wedding, I promised to teach him how to ride a ho—” she began her request carefully. Y/N had managed to negotiate Daiyu’s extended vacation in America with her young son and Kai, yet she couldn’t shake the strong feeling that Yoongi had only allowed such a thing to happen because he felt indebted to her at the moment. Her state was far more delicate than he thought and he desperately wanted to make her happy. The one thing she wanted the most, he couldn’t grant. Freedom.
“Would that make you happy?” Yoongi interrupted. He sighed, his eyes drifting to the window where dark clouds gathered on the horizon.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a small, hesitant smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. It was a fragile thing, easily shattered, but it was real. And in that moment, Yoongi vowed to himself that he would protect that smile, nurture it, and help it grow.
“Yes, it would. Maybe we could also pay a visit to Daiyu—” Y/N sucked her lips in and shyly smiled again. Yoongi nodded slowly. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrests. The weight of their precarious situation pressed down on him, the knowledge that every decision could have far-reaching consequences hanging over them like a dark cloud.
“I’m not sure about that, sweetling,” he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Her heart clenched, did he understand her intentions?
“You said you’ll give me the world, Yoongi. Why not this?” Y/N’s smile faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features.
Yoongi’s gaze softened further, a mixture of regret and longing in his eyes. He reached out, taking her hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.
“I will consider this trip, but we have to be cautious now. War is looming on the horizon.” He explained, his tone serious.
“What do you mean war? You’ve just won one,” she challenged, her voice laced with disbelief.
“The world is a volatile place, Dove. Our battle was nothing in comparison to what is to come. The world will fight—” Yoongi’s expression darkened, the weight of their past victories suddenly overshadowed by the looming threat of conflict. Y/N’s heart sank at the mention of war, a cold knot forming in the pit of her stomach.
“Until we’re certain there’s no threat, I want us to remain in Korea, my love.” he declared, his final words.
Y/N’s heart sank at his words, but she forced herself to nod, understanding the gravity of their situation. The war threatened to consume them all, and they had to tread carefully if they were to survive. Y/N nodded slowly to his words.
“She wrote to you this morning, didn’t she?” Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she’s running out of time. If they were caught up in the chaos, she feared she may never leave this place. And with Yoongi’s resolve to remain in Korea, their window of opportunity grew smaller with each passing moment. It was worth the shot, he wouldn’t let her slip that easily if there’s an actual threat that the world’s will battle.
“She met someone,” Y/N added softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty of how Yoongi will react. He, however, already knew. There was nothing that would go past him or so he thought.
"She met someone?" he repeated, his voice tinged with false scepticism. Y/N's heart ached at the doubt in Yoongi's voice, but she held firm in her conviction.
“She’s a widow with a child, who—”
“Happy widow with a child—” she inserted herself into his remark. "She deserves it, Yoongi. After everything she's been through, she deserves a chance at love and happiness.”
“Daiyu is no longer tied to the syndicate. You promised not to meddle with her affairs unless she needs help.” She reminded him less gently, her voice tinged with a hint of caution.
“I intend to keep that promise.” Lie. He already knew the man who so openly started to court her. A sense of relief washed over Y/N as she watched Yoongi's resistance soften, even if it was pretended.
“The rain won’t stop pouring—” Y/N’s voice trailed off, a sombre note creeping into her tone as she glanced out the window at the stormy sky.
“How do you feel today?” Yoongi observed Y/N for a moment, his expression softening as he took in her weary demeanour.
“Better than yesterday.” She replied, her voice carrying a hint of resilience. Yoongi nodded, a sense of relief washing over him at her response. Despite the challenges they faced, he was grateful for every moment of peace they could find amidst the storm.
He noticed the subtle signs of improvement in her appearance. Her cheeks, once sunken and lifeless, now held a hint of colour, and the dark circles under her eyes seemed less pronounced. Her eyes sparkled differently, not with tears as of late. Whatever Seokjin is doing to help her, it is working.
“Have you slept well?” he inquired gently, his voice filled with genuine concern. From Monday to Friday, storms reigned over the hidden valley. Yoongi reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, his touch tender and reassuring. Her dark hair grew enough to reach past her shoulders since the unfortunate event back in October.
“It wasn't the best, but it was better than before.” Yoongi nodded in understanding, his gaze lingering on her with a mixture of admiration and concern. He knew that even the smallest victories, like a few hours of sleep, were worth celebrating in their tumultuous world. After all the night terrors she endured for months.
“How’s working with Seokjin?” He knew how demanding their roles could be, especially in the midst of ongoing turmoil. Yoongi expected her to sigh just as softly as she always does, her expression to reflect the weight of responsibility, but none of that happened. Y/N smiled at him brightly instead.
Y/N's smile was like a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds, momentarily dispelling the shadows that lingered around them.
“Work has been great. I've been able to help so many people—” she replied, her voice infused with a sense of optimism that Yoongi hadn't heard in a while. As she spoke, Y/N’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the weariness that had plagued her in recent months.
“Did you know that punk, Jungkook, pretends to be sick every other day just to swing by?” Y/N’s voice was filled with amusement as she recounted the antics of the youngest of the seven. Though older than her, she did not feel any age difference between them two.
Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of Jungkook's antics.
"That sounds like him," he remarked, a fond smile playing at his lips. She continued, her words flowing freely as she recounted her experiences while working with Seokjin at the clinic.
“Seokjin has been a wonderful mentor,” she continued, her eyes shining with gratitude. “He’s taught me so much more than we actually studied at school—” Yoongi nodded in agreement, a sense of pride swelling within him as he listened to Y/N's tales of their work at the clinic.
“I remember this one young man who had sustained severe burns on his arms. The sight of his injuries was heart-breaking, but I could see the determination in his eyes to overcome the pain.” Y/N’s voice softened with emotion as she recalled the moment.
"We worked tirelessly to stabilise him, and when he finally regained consciousness, the look of gratitude in his eyes made all the long hours and hard work worth it. It was a reminder of why I wanted to be a nurse in the first place—to make a difference in people’s lives, no matter how small.”
Yoongi listened intently, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for not allowing her to pursue her passion for nursing earlier.
He may not be able to undo the past, but he could certainly make sure that she had all the support she needed to thrive in the future. The youngest was right. She needed this, she needed to regain her purpose in her life. To be someone for herself.
He realised how much he had underestimated her need for work, how vital it was for her to have a sense of purpose and fulfilment. There was still hope and goodness.
Yoongi listened to all the stories she had to say as for the first time since forever, there were no tears, no screams, no tension in the air. Just the calm, steady rhythm of their shared breaths.
“You know,” Yoongi began, his voice soft, "I'm proud of you. Proud of everything you've accomplished and the progress you’re making. I should have let you do this sooner.”
“Can’t change the past now can we?” He nodded to her remark solemnly, squeezing her hand.
“Tell me more,—” he urged, eager to hear more about her work, her passion. He wanted to be part of her world just like she is part of his, to support her in every way possible.
Y/N smiled, her face glowing with happiness. “Well, there’s this little girl named Jang-mi. She’s been coming in for treatment regularly, and despite everything, she's always so cheerful—”
Y/N pulled her coat tighter around her, feeling the icy water seep through the fabric. Her breath came in shallow gasps, mixing with the cold air to form small clouds that dissipated as quickly as they appeared. She huddled beneath the overhang of a small alley, her body shivering uncontrollably. The once comforting weight of her coat now felt like a burden, soaked and heavy.
Her mind raced, a chaotic swirl of fear and desperation. The past few days had been a whirlwind of terror and confusion. She had trusted the wrong people, made alliances that crumbled under the weight of deceit. Every step she took seemed to lead her deeper into a labyrinth of danger and uncertainty. She couldn’t afford another mistake; the stakes were too high. The sound of her own heartbeat was loud in her ears, a constant reminder of the life-or-death game she was playing.
A sudden flash of lightning split the sky, casting stark shadows and illuminating the alley in a harsh, white light. For a brief moment, everything was clear and sharp, every detail etched into her memory. That’s when she saw him.
At the mouth of the alley is where he stood , his figure backlit by the brilliant light. He was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, but he seemed unfazed by the torrential rain. His presence was as menacing as ever, a dark silhouette against the night. His eyes, however, were what held her captive. They were dark, deep pools of unreadable emotion, reflecting the storm’s fury.
Yoongi didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched her, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was a look she had seen before, one that sent chills down her spine. It was the look of a predator sizing up its prey. She knew then, with a sickening certainty, that no matter how far she ran, he would always be one step ahead.
Panic surged through her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. She pressed herself against the wall, the rough brick scraping her skin through the thin material of her coat. She needed to think, to find a way out, but her mind was a blur of fear and fatigue. The rain continued to pour, the cold seeping into her bones, making her limbs feel heavy and uncooperative.
Yoongi took a step forward, the movement slow and deliberate. His boots splashed in the puddles, the sound muffled by the storm. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, a wild, frantic rhythm. She felt like a trapped animal, cornered with no way out. The alley was a dead end, and Yoongi was blocking her only escape route.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the noise of the storm. “You can’t keep running.”
His words were a cold, hard truth that she didn’t want to accept. But she had no choice. Every attempt to escape had led her right back to him, like a cruel game of cat and mouse. She swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the rain. She had to keep fighting, had to find a way to break free from his grip.
“I won’t let you control me,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “I’ll find a way out.”
Yoongi’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or admiration for her defiance. “You’re stronger than I thought,” he said, taking another step closer. “But strength alone won’t save you.”
He was close now, close enough that she could see the droplets of rain clinging to his eyelashes, the way his clothes clung to his body. His presence was overwhelming, a dark force that seemed to consume all the light around him. She knew she had to act, had to do something before it was too late.
Summoning every ounce of courage, Y/N pushed off the wall and lunged towards him, hoping to catch him off guard. But Yoongi was ready. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with a grip like iron. She struggled, twisting and pulling, but he was too strong.
“Let me fucking go!” she cried, her voice breaking with desperation.
Yoongi pulled her closer, his other hand coming up to cup her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, Y/N,” he said softly, his breath warm against her skin. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means protecting you from yourself.”
Tears mingled with the rain on her cheeks as she realised the futility of her struggle. Yoongi’s words were a chilling promise, one that she knew he would keep. She was trapped, caught in a web of his making, with no way out.
The storm raged on around them, but in that moment, all Y/N could feel was the cold, unyielding grip of the man she used to fear, and the inescapable reality of her situation.
Y/N woke with a start, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the remnants of the nightmare clung to her mind. Her body was drenched in cold sweat, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t discern reality from the dream, the vivid images of the rain-soaked alley and Yoongi’s menacing presence still haunting her.
It was a memory that was hidden in the back of her mind to resurface when she’s the most vulnerable. It had happened a few times already, her mind showing her each time she attempted to escape the scarred leader.
She took a deep breath and listened to the mix of crackling fireplace and raindrops outside. His eyes were on her petite physique, his hands holding a book he was reading while she took a well deserved afternoon nap. He put down his reading glasses and ran a hand through his hair, closing the book and turning her attention to her.
“Which one was it this time?”
She turned to see him sitting beside her, his eyes filled with worry. The contrast between the Yoongi in her nightmare and the one before her now was stark. Gone was the cold, calculating predator; in his place was a man who genuinely cared for her well-being. He did change a little. Or maybe he was like that before but his selfishness didn’t allow him to show her his bright side.
Her legs moved to his lap when she was asleep, and he gently rubbed circles into her ankles, his touch soothing for once.
“Will you keep me safe?”
Yoongi's expression softened further, his gaze unwavering as he looked into her eyes. He knows that there were moments that haunt her till now. Moments he let happen with his cockiness.
“Always,” he replied, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”
“I just... I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly.
“Just rest, Dove,” Yoongi murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “I’ll be right here.”
After a few silent minutes, Y/N broke the calm silence.
“Can we play the piano?”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Together, they moved to the old piano in the corner of the room. As they sat side by side, their fingers tentatively began to touch the keys. Each note was a delicate thread, weaving together a tapestry of their unspoken emotions. The music became their secret language, a way to say everything they couldn’t put into words.
Every time she did not feel like speaking herself, they played. Until she felt better. Yoongi played with a gentle intensity, his fingers dancing over the keys with practised ease.
He was a better player, so she thought. Afterall, he had had more life to practice.
The medication made her more open to him. Sooner or later she’ll have to get off of it before it will become her only source of happiness. There were days it made her sleep well, drink, eat, breathe and live like the person she used to be. And there were days she sat in front of her vanity mirror knowing this effect is only temporary.
She cannot afford to get off of them while she’s remaining by his side. Her being would not take it and the prospect of freedom would be scarce. It blunted negative emotions which worked in the scarred boy’s favour.
It was working, but it was a question of time when she’ll develop tolerance and they won’t work anymore. That’s why Seokjin is desperately trying to convince Yoongi that he’ll have a way to help her. Permanently.
Yoongi knows that it would be just another mistake he would have to write under his name.
“I’ll always keep you safe,” he whispered again, his words a promise and a plea. And in the quiet aftermath of their duet, she almost believed him.
In that fleeting moment, she wasn’t running, and Yoongi wasn’t chasing. They were simply two souls, lost in the music, trying to find their way back to each other. One more than the other.
His hand moved to cover hers on the keys, their eyes meeting in the stillness that followed. The world outside ceased to exist, the rain and the fire a distant backdrop to the intensity of their shared gaze.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Yoongi leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. Her heart raced, not with fear, but with a different kind of anticipation.
Their faces were inches apart, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. His eyes flickered to her lips, then back to her eyes, seeking permission, seeking assurance. Y/N’s breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.
“Unnie?!” Xiaoli's voice rang out, bright and oblivious. “We need to talk about—”
“Can you keep me safe from my own sister?” She scoffed playfully. His chuckle bounced on her lips as his lips still hovered just a breath away from hers, the paper door swung open with a sudden, sharp creak.
Taehyung stepped in behind her, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. "Oh. We’re... interrupting, aren’t we?”
Yoongi pulled back slightly, his expression darkening as he turned to face them. Y/N felt the moment slipping away, the fragile connection disrupted.
“What is it?” Yoongi asked, his voice strained with barely concealed irritation.
“You invited us to have dinner, Hyung.” Taehyung reminded him, his tone a mix of apology and amusement.
Xiaoli’s eyes darted between Yoongi and Y/N, realisation dawning on her face. “Oh... we’re really sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in, Kkangpae Min.”
She apologised, still not her but always to him and him only. Y/N forced herself to smile. The woman that her sister became is not the same one she grew up with.
“There was nothing to interrupt, don’t worry,” she waved it off and Yoongi sighed, the tension in his shoulders evident.
The fleeting moment of intimacy with Y/N hung heavily in his mind. Before, during and after the dinner. He was extravagantly close to feel her lips on his again, just for the moment to be swept away.
Dinner was a mix of awkward silences and forced conversation. Xiaoli and Taehyung tried to lighten the mood, but the air was thick with unspoken words.
Yoongi, for his part, seemed distant, his mind clearly elsewhere. Every so often, his gaze would meet hers across the table.
“Will you come next week?” Xiaoli asked, sipping her wine.
Y/N, momentarily distracted from her thoughts, looked up.
“Next week?”
Y/N glanced at Yoongi, who was already looking at her. She hesitated, unsure of committing to anything he did not allow earlier.
“Yes, Y/N promised Bo Cheng to teach him how to ride a horse, and I have some business to attend to.” Yoongi cleared his throat, breaking the silence.
“I could teach him,” Said Xiaoli, a bit jealous that their brother wanted Y/N to teach him when she was right there in the hotel.
Once Xiaoli and Taehyung will be with each other for eternity, the family of three then, will take their leave back to China.
The Triad leader attended his own business trips while his wife and children stayed with the “allying” clan.
He doesn’t know. None of them knows what Y/N did to herself, apart from Xiaoli, who herself doesn’t know every detail. They spreaded white lies to cover this “lapse of senses”. A misstep. Y/N hides the fading scar carefully to avoid any explanation. She wished to not tell them, and the kkangpae did not object to her wishes anymore. Whatever she wants, she gets. Usually, most of the time if she’s reasonable and clever about it.
The past months painstakingly helped them to get better. Or so Yoongi thought. Her priority was never to be his good wife, her priority is him thinking she will be his good obedient loving wife and when he won’t expect her to seek freedom anymore — she’ll disappear.
“I don't know about that, honey. You remember that nasty fall you took last year?” Her husband-to-be said nonchalantly. Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion.
“Fall?—“ she asked, doubting his words.
“What are you talking about?” Xiaoli herself was surprised at his words. She did not recall any falls. Y/N knew Xiaoli isn’t the best rider, but she was decent enough to hold any situation that would make her fall from the horse under control.
“I don’t remember that,—” she said, taking another long sip from her glass.
“You’d certainly remember falling from a horse. Why don’t I know about this, Yoongi?” Said Y/N turning herself to the quiet man.
“I was having a hard time keeping you here as you loved to go for a run back then. It must have slipped my mind—“
“My sister falling from a horse slipped your mind?”
“He did not know Y/N, until a lot later. Right, Hyung?” Taehyung smiled sweetly at her, defending his Kkangpae. As always. Y/N clicked her tongue and gifted Yoongi with a penetrating stare creating another layer of tension in the room.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat, attempting to gather his thoughts. The last thing he wants is to mess up their relationship again.
“You’re right, love. I should have told you once I got to know that,” Yoongi admitting guilt is a new trait he acquired these past months.
“How did she fall?” Y/N aimed her question at Taehyung as her sister clearly doesn't remember it.
“It wasn’t probably that bad if I don’t remember it, Unnie. Don’t worry about it anymore—“ the younger female answered before her fiance had the chance to do so.
Y/N sighed loudly but the hand under the table that was gripping her younger sister’s thigh was not seen by her eyes.
It was hard to keep focus, especially with Seokjin constantly needing her assistance at work. His stern demeanour and meticulous nature kept her on her toes, but she appreciated the distraction. She knew why she was at his beck and call. Yoongi demanded so. Under any circumstances she ought to be next to Seokjin.
The ambulance in the sanctuary was significantly smaller than the big sanitorium in the town, but there was still some work to do here too.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and studying her intently.
“The usual,” she murmured, filling today’s report. Seokjin watched her for a moment, then brought the courage to ask.
“Have you been intimate?” Y/N dropped the pen at once and with wide eyes. She stared at him. The question came out of nowhere nor was it called for.
“Wh-what do you mean intimate?”
“Exactly what I said,” he replied calmly, not breaking eye contact.
“Have you been intimate with Yoongi again?”
“I don’t see how this is your business, Seokjin.” She felt her face flush with heat, a mix of embarrassment and anger.
“I’m not trying to pry. I’m your friend, but I’m also your doctor, sweetling—,” he said softly.
“Your health and well-being are my concern,” Seokjin explained. “And you know that if something’s affecting you emotionally or physically, it could impact your health.”
Bullcrap, he is in fact prying.
She was silent for a minute, trying to comprehend how he is taking care of her being this late. If she wouldn’t attempt to kill herself, these concerns wouldn’t be as great. But Y/N cannot afford to break havoc. She can’t go on rampage as she wants every single person here to think that she is moving towards being a good obedient wife of the Kkangpae. Even though she wants to scream to each and one of their faces about how much they failed her. How much they hurt her. Yet, patience is the key. Breathe, sleep, eat, endure.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then decided to change the topic.
“What about your wife?” Seokjin’s eyes flickered with surprise before he masked it with a neutral expression. Y/N barely knew the woman. Matter of fact she has seen her maybe three times since the wedding.
“Very much pregnant,” he said, his voice a mix of pride and weariness.
“Oh,” Y/N replied, taken aback. “I didn’t know. Congratulations, I guess.” Here comes another thing that Yoongi managed to keep from her.
“Thank you, my dear,” Seokjin said, a small smile touching his lips. “It’s been… an interesting journey, to say the least.”
“I can imagine,—” Y/N said, sensing there was more beneath the surface.
“Can you imagine yourself on that journey?” Seokjin interrupted, his gaze searching her face.
She pretended that the question took her by surprise, looking down at her hands to not give herself away.
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. He is testing her. “It’s hard to think about that kind of future with everything that’s going on.”
Seokjin nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s understandable. But it’s something to consider. Maybe a baby would help you to shush your demons away.”
Y/N’s heart raced at the suggestion, and she forced herself to maintain her composure. “I… I don’t think a baby is the answer, Seokjin. There’s so much I need to sort out first.”
“Sometimes, having something to focus on, something to live for, can make all the difference,” Seokjin said gently.
She nodded, still feeling uneasy about the direction of the conversation. Opting not to give more than she would want to by not answering his remark and going back to finish the report.
“Just know that you have options. And that you don’t have to go through any of this alone.”
“Thanks,” she replied, offering a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Of course she won’t.
Y/N entered the dimly lit room where Yoongi was sitting, his face illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp. He looked up as she closed the door behind her, his expression softened once he looked up from the papers. The office in the sanctuary remained the same apart from the fact that now the young Kkangpae occupies it far more often than before.
He took his glasses off and pushed himself away from the desk creating a space for her to come and stand in front of him, leaning against the massive wooden desk. Her hands felt the warmth of the wood that had been heated by the lamp, reflecting the same heat that radiated between them.
“Did you ask Seokjin to put thoughts into my head?” she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask him to, but I knew he would at some point try to give you some wisdom. What did he say?”
“That a baby would be the right treatment for me,” she replied, her voice tight with frustration.
Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly, then he closed them and exhaled deeply.
“I’m sorry, Dove—“
“Do you think that too?” she asked, searching his face. “That a baby would magically fix everything?”
Yoongi shook his head, stepping up from his chair and closer to her. “No, I don’t. A baby isn’t a solution to our problems—“ she didn’t believe one word that was coming out of this mouth. He wouldn’t break his knuckles this hard if he didn’t want the baby that Y/N took care of not happening anytime soon. Her system was full of herbal remedies. And now that she knows, the herbs flowing in her system are working, she can use that to her advantage.
“But that would make you happy right?” She countered, seeing through him. Softening her mimics to appeal to him.
“Well, yeah, I want a family with you someday—“
“Someday? The bandages on your knuckles says that you’re pretty eager to have it now—” she scoffed and murmured under her nose.
Yoongi’s eyes for once reflected something she couldn’t quite recognise. There was a mix of desperation and longing that flickered there. His hand reached out, trembling slightly, and cupped her cheek gently.
“Dove, I want us to be happy, truly happy. But I know bringing a child into this world won’t erase your pain or solve our problems. We need to fix ourselves first—” His thumb brushed her cheek tenderly.
“I’m sorry for being selfish, my love,” she felt a tear escape her eye, rolling down to where his thumb could catch it. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch because that’s what always softens his edges.
After months, she has learnt what strings to pull to make him move just the way she wants to. Yet, Y/N knows that he isn’t that stupid to believe she suddenly wants to live with him happily ever after.
“I can pour us some wine. We can play the piano after dinner, hm?” He could feel her vulnerability, her heart laid bare before him. Or so he thought as she wanted him to think that. His hand continued to caress her cheek softly, his touch gentle yet laden with unspoken longing she sensed each time he attempted to get closer to her.
She nodded, a small pretentious smile playing on her lips as she stepped closer to him. The tension between them lingered.
He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead. “We will be good. We just need time with each other.”
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He sat first, patting the space beside him, inviting her to join. Her fingers brushed the keys, eliciting a soft, mournful note. A melody that echoed in her mind far too often. An anthem for hurting. Weeping symphony, tears of sorrow.
He became far too respectful towards her boundaries which essentially was ruining all of her plans. Her fingers pressed the keys with delicate touch even when she wanted to smash them rock hard.
“Why this song?” She let the question hang in the air for a moment, her fingers poised above the keys as if weighing his words.
“Do you know what they interpret it as?” She finally said, her voice soft, barely audible above the lingering notes. Her eyes, once masked with a facade of calm, now revealed a flicker of the anguish she carried.
“Tell me,” he flipped the page of the notes book for her to continue the song.
“It’s a tale of unspoken grief, of wounds too deep to heal and shadows that never leave.”
He felt a shiver run down his spine as she said that. Part of him understood what message she was trying to leave and part of him wished he’s wrong.
“I view it as love lost and dreams shattered. They say it’s a lament for those who wander through life carrying burdens no one else can see.”
He carefully listened to all her words, all the notes she played, all her feelings she shared. Her fingers moved over the keys, each note a whisper of sorrow.
“The scars I carry inside,—“ His hand reached out to touch hers, a gesture of comfort. Stopping her from playing more.
“Let me help you carry that weight—“
“You created it in the first place.”
His eyes widened, a mixture of guilt and realisation flooding his expression. She pulled her hand away.
“The scars I carry, the emptiness I feel, they all trace back to you.”
His mind raced to comprehend the depth of her pain, trying to understand her intentions. It’s not like he ever expected her to say it out loud.
“You created emptiness in me Yoongi—“
He felt his heart clench with guilt and regret. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. It was nothing new. She heard his apologies but she was yet to accept them
She turned back to the piano, her fingers resting on the keys but not playing. “Intentions don’t change the past,” she said softly. “The pain remains—“
“But the future can learn from mistakes.”
“I will. I’ll learn—“ He began before she interrupted him.
“You need to fill the space now.” His eyes lit up listening to her words. In his mind, this was it. The holy grail. In her mind, she was wrapping him around her finger before she would bounce away like a pebble on the pond.
“Heal me if you must.”
These were her last words before the distance between them shrank, the intensity of their emotions drawing them closer. He leaned in, his heart pounding in his chest that she could almost hear it but Y/N didn’t pull away.
Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, a delicate brush that spoke of apology, of yearning, and of promises yet to be fulfilled. Her heart cried and the song remained echoing in her mind.
As they pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting against each other, Yoongi felt a warmth spread through him, chasing away the cold shadows of regret. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. His thoughts were swirling with one thing only — this was the real beginning of them. And it was the beginning.
The beginning of the end.
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I N T E R L O G U E
The walls were lined with bookshelves, each shelf overflowing with dusty tomes and old papers. A large, ornate desk stood in the centre, its surface cluttered with stacks of documents.
Seokjin rarely sends her to this room as they also rarely stay in the hanok the sanctuary has for medical assistance to those who live here.
She approached slowly, her fingers brushing over the worn leather of a chair before settling on a stack of yellowed files that he asked to bring. It was then when her eyes caught the opened crimson red files that laid flat open on the desk. The ones that the doctor forgot to take with him the other time he had to run and tend to the lady of the house in the middle of the night. They stayed there, laid open, for several weeks. Touched by a thin layer of dust on top of it.
Kim Seokjin is renowned in his field of practice. Yet, this was going to be his great mistake. Inside, there were detailed medical records, notes written in a precise, almost mechanical hand. The words on the pages made her stomach churn—phrases like “prefrontal lobotomy,” “behavioural correction,” and “psychosurgical intervention” leapt out at her. She read on, horrified by the cold, clinical descriptions of procedures that seemed more like torture than treatment.
Her hand flew to her mouth to not let the wailing cry away.
Trembling, she pushed the file aside and reached for the next one. Not bearing what they’ve done to her sister. Y/N’s hands shook as she read through the files, each word a dagger to her heart. The clinical detachment with which the procedures were described made her feel sick. These were not just medical records—they were accounts of inhuman experiments carried out in the name of science, or more so — control.
The name on this file was all too familiar, it was Jin’s wife. He must have done it before the wedding as she seemed far too calm. Her heart pounded in her chest as she opened it, fearing what she might find. The contents were similar—detailed accounts of medical procedures, records of a lobotomy performed in a desperate attempt to “cure” her of what the notes described as “hysteria” and “unmanageable behaviour.”
Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She stumbled back from the desk, her mind reeling from the revelations. The room seemed to close in around her, the shadows deepening as the weight of what she had discovered settled on her shoulders.
The name on the empty file under those made her anxious, hysteric even more as the tag had Min Y/N written on it.
She wiped her tears but they couldn't stop falling.
“Y/N?”
.
.
.
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shooting-love-arrows · 10 months
Note
If you're comfortable with this scenario could you please write it?
So darling is currently and maternity leave how would 1950's househusband react to it?
Dear Anon,
Note: (fem! reader)
Yandere! 1950's! Househusband would be over the moon. He only sees benefits from your maternity leave for a various reasons:
You have a child. It's an obvious one but he finds your child to be so precious and lovely. A physical, leaving, breathing embodiment of you and him. Something he always dreamed about. ;
You'll stay at home with him. You won't need to go to work and socialize with other people (those pesky coworkers of yours, especially your secretary homewrecker). Better yet, you would be advised by your doctor to stay at home and rest. You can't argue with a specialist, can you?
You'll rely on him. You're more vulnerable. He's aware that you're sensitive and healing from the burdens of your pregnancy and labor. He'll gladly step into the role of the perfect house husband and nurse you back to health. The quicker you'll heal the faster you can start planning to expand your family further and give your first child a lovely sibling :)
In conclusion, your maternity leave is sort of answer to his prayers 
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Ask, EPICNESSQUEEN/The Yandere Specialist ANYTHING!!! (Q and A Video Being Posted August 25th, 2024 (My Birthday) I am turning 29! 1 Year from 30!!!)
Happy, Happy Birthday! May ALL My Dreams Come True!!! Happy, Happy Birthday! This Day Was Made For ME and YOU!!! Will be doing a Q and A Video, so ask away, and I will do my best to answer any and all questions! (You can put them in the comments or in the ask box! Thank you and Stay sexy, all of my Sexy Muffins!)
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gojoidyll · 27 days
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electric love ch. 3
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Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader
Summary | In a technological advanced world where ai and virtual reality overrun the populace, a certain synthetic being learns what love was all thanks to a certain woman.
Warnings | Gojo takes some "innocent" notes about you.
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The world moved slow, and so did your workdays as you would keep glancing at your calendar and count the hours until you see THE Gojo Satoru again. You don’t know why but he made you incredibly nervous, and, of course, there was always the chance that he could cancel on you and find someone else to be his specialist. Truth be told, however, even though you had your worries at the beginning, after you had a good night’s rest, you found that it honestly wasn’t so bad.
And finally, finally when the Gojo’s appointment arrived, you found yourself nervous all over again. Your nervousness was quick to catch Ayakazhi’s attention.
“Stop squirming.”
“I can’t help it, I-“
You zipped your lips shut when the front door’s bell rang and in walked Gojo. His eyes scanning the place for a brief moment before his eyes landed on you. A smile immediately gracing his lips.
“Y/n.”
“Good morning, Mr. Gojo,” you glanced at the digital clock that appeared on your wrist when you looked down at it. 10:30 am on the dot, “you’re right on time.”
Gojo didn’t miss a beat, “I like to be on time for things, well, unless it’s a boring meeting that is, and please, call me Satoru.”
You wondered what his processing speed was at. Even with high tech ai, it takes them a moment to fully process what another says and takes even a tad bit longer to reply. And yet Gojo’s response time is as fast as a human’s. Truthfully, you noticed this before but didn’t comment on it. Maybe you could ask later?
“Of course, Satoru,” you couldn’t deny that you liked saying his first name. It just had a nice ring to it, “though, I hope you don’t plan on making me wait in the near future?”
“Me making you wait? Never.”
You couldn’t hide your laugh as you gestured down the hall, “I’ll believe it when I see it. Now, please. This way, Mr-, I mean Satoru.”
Following your lead, you lead him to the room he was in before. Recognizing the familiar walls, he went straight for the exam table (the exam bed with the weird plastic wrap resting on top of it) and plopped right down onto it, and you took your seat in your chair after closing the door behind you.
“Alright, Satoru, before we begin do you have any questions for me?”
He seemed to ponder on that for a moment, his eyes closing in response. And you couldn’t help but admire him. He just looked so human. The way his eyelashes fluttered close, how his skin glistened, his lips were pink and looked soft to the touch too. It was truly unfair.
“I do have one question…”
“What is it?”
“Are you still single?”
You giggled at that, your laugh bubbling up uncontrollably as you grinned at him, “yes, I’m still single Satoru.”
“Glad to hear it, then I’m all set.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Alright then,” you said as you stood up and went over to where your drawers were. Opening up the top drawer, you first pulled up your sleeves before putting some gloves on. Once you were ready you then went to the other side where all your tools were stored in your cabinet, “would you please take your shirt off and show me your back?”
You asked this as you set your needed tools up on a rolling cart and pulled it next to the exam bed.
“What? No dinner? No date?”
You rolled your eyes, “our first appointment was the date.”
“Of course, of course,” Satoru said with a laugh as he pulled his shirt off. And you couldn’t help but to purse your lips together. He was literally sculpted by the God of design because what the actual hell? His chest was chiselled and perfect. You know that he was an ai, but there was not a single spec of fat. Even with high end ai models, there is still supposed to be loose skin and small areas with fat due to the design and fabrication of synthesized flesh and tissue and lubricant that pushes through their “bloodstream.” Keep in mind that ai don’t have actual blood, it’s a sort of synthetic concoction used to help their moving parts. How and why Gojo doesn’t have any sort of deformities, fat, loose skin or anything else related to that.
“Don’t ogle for too long, little y/n,” he said with a snicker when he turned around. And you rolled your eyes, “oh, shut it you.”
Looking at his back, you noticed how it was in the same condition as his chest. Perfectly sculpted, no loose skin, fat, or deformities. He didn’t even have love handles like you and most people (not that there is anything wrong with that!!).
Calming yourself, you stepped forward and gently placed a hand onto the middle of his back and immediately a string of light blue erupted along your fingertips nad traced the spine of his back, “I’ll first do an ordinary checkup and work my way from there.”
“Do what you need to.”
Taking his sign of approval as a go ahead, you pressed down a bit harder and immediately felt a metal plate shift. The blue light flickered for a moment before the panel along his spine opened up. Pressing a few buttons on the panel, you also turned on your digital tablet. The screen gently hovered over your left forearm as you worked.
“I’ll be connecting your database to my hard drive.”
Gojo nodded silently.
Usually during operations such as this, ai tend to shut down some of their other functions to preserve energy in case of emergencies. One of these functions is speech. Though, some ai disable other functions first.
Looking to your digital tablet screen, both your device and Gojo were finally connected and you began sifting through his health and well-being files instantly. Sifting through the data would usually take days for an amateur but luckily you were one of the best. Top of your class even. So it only took you a few moments.
“That’s odd…, I don’t see anything wrong…”
You turned your attention back to his spinal panel. Your fingers gently prodding at the different buttons and wires as you tried to find any problem that would surface, but nothing showed up.
I’m missing something here. Gojo Satoru wouldn’t come here for nothing. I’m sure of it. Which means… the problem isn’t in these files. They’re elsewhere.
You refocused on your holographic screen, your fingers maneuvering to a different file path.
Main interface files.
Pressing down on the option, it opened up immediately and you saw something wrong the moment your eyes scanned the documents that festered there.
“Satoru, will you please look at this?”
His attention was caught the moment you spoke up. His body already turning to you as you showed him your screen.
“This file doesn’t match with the rest of your software. Are you aware that Zenin tech is currently in your database?”
His eyes were quick to darken, “damn brats, I knew they were up to no good.”
“Pardon?”
His eyes gradually softened when he looked to you, “sorry about that little y/n. Recently I had gotten a new specialist back at my workplace. However, due to some…unforeseen problems a background check wasn’t done. So when the specialist worked on me they must have put that zenin file there.”
“I can get rid of it for you, and I can also set up a protection program that will erase any and all data that they stole from you.”
His whole body perked up at that, “you can do that?”
“of course. Though, just to warn you that the erasing the file can be done now, but writing the code that erases the data they stole from you will probably take me a week- woah!”
You didn’t expect him to reach for you, his hands clasping onto your own, “I don’t care how long I have to wait. It will mean a great deal to me if you can do that. Also, I don’t think I know anyone who can do what you just said, and it would be amazing if the zenin didn’t get their hands on my info.”
You patted his hands, “trust me, making the code will be hard, but I…I worked hard to get where I’m at today,” you glanced at your screen and temporarily saved the zenin file to your own hard drive before erasing it completely off of Gojo’s once he let go of your hands.
“Alrighty, I erased the file off of you, so you should be fine until I create the code that will erase what the zenin took from you.”
You could practically see Gojo’s shoulders relax as he turned back around so you could close his spinal panel.
“Thank you, also, why did you save it to your hard drive?”
“It’s for a reference,” you answered, “it’s so I can trace the erasure back to them.”
“That makes sense,” he said as he grabbed his shirt to put it back on, “also…”
“Hmm?”
“I noticed that you don’t take notes.”
You smiled, “I have good memory.”
“What do you know? So do I,” he said as he scanned you briefly. His receptors memorizing your clothes and figure, “so little y/n how much for my visit today?”
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corollaservant · 6 months
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The Host // Chrollo x f!Reader (18+)
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Synopsis: Chrollo likes you, you remind him of someone he knows. Better yet, you might just be her. He's hosting a show tonight and you're starring in it.
Warnings: noncon/dubcon, yandere, kidnapping, drugging, manipulation/coercion, knives, oral and penetrative sex, psychosis/schizophrenia, stalking, Sarasa mentions (Chrollo's childhood friend), spoilers for the manga, would add more but it kinda ruins it.
A/N: inspired by Phantom Troupe's flashback in the Succession Contest arc and my love for Chrollo. Played intentionally with the verb tenses.
The party. That’s right, you were at a party, a drink in your hand and your friend with you. Where was the party? A sharp pain pierces your cranium and you wince. What ever happened to your friend? You decide you can't show empathy at present time.
It was commonly assumed that memory followed a chronological sequence, that the human brain could recall memories exactly like they unfolded but in all honesty, memory recalling happened in fragments for most. The party. Your friend. The colors of the light. A man. 
A man. Who was the man and what were you talking about, you try to think but it’s kind of hard when you can’t see, you’re blindfolded and tied to a chair. Earthy odor, smells like soil, you note. Not that this takes you far. You had definitely been drugged, you felt weak and nauseous (it was a wonder the stills popped in your head) eyes so tightly folded, the little shapes and colors from the pressure increasing your fatigue, your heart palpitating. Was this date rape? You couldn’t touch yourself to find out but you felt intact. This was also not a date. Then why the abduction and ropes? To offer something, you think. But you didn’t have much to offer for the record. You try calming yourself down but the thought only stresses you further. Fuck, how long was this going to take?
Chrollo never did things without reason. Never talked without it, stole without it (debatable, but they were in need), never acted without it or killed without it. You being there was no mistake, he was wondering how you felt at the moment, not very familiar with human emotions, they all seemed wary, he thought, so he often brushed them off—he didn't care enough to dig deeper. Chrollo listened, he never talked. He could sit through a Troupe meeting actively hearing the members, knowing fully well when stupid proposals and ideas were spouted as they all patiently waited for his final word. He didn’t mind, he thought it was funny how people unraveled without him trying.
His decision on you, he had to admit was made on impulse. He didn’t mean to drug you. He didn’t mean to abduct you. Unlike you, he remembers details. Him and the Troupe were in a club (silly to assume for entertainment, a stolen prize now decorating the heist gallery in one of the Troupe's hideouts) when he saw you. You weren’t far, a couple inches away, drinking clumsily and conversing with a person he presumed was a friend by the proximity of it. You had her eyes, he thought. Of course he could see perfectly in the dark, well, he could pretty much use any of his senses to a higher extent, he wouldn’t be a Specialist after all. Your wide eyes gleamed, they squinted when you couldn’t listen. To make matters worse, you had your hair in pigtails, loosely falling down your shoulders, long hair divided by two black hair ties. Just like hers, he thinks.
Now, Chrollo is not sentimental, he really isn’t, but the optic parallels cloud his judgement and he wants nothing more but to be by your side, to reminisce the part of him that died a long time ago. He can’t cry, not unless he has a reason; he does nothing without it, but feels touched merely by your presence. Once the decision is finalized, he makes a move.
-
‘’Excuse me, miss.’’ A voice rings behind you. A tall man with dark brown hair and gloomy eyes holds out your house keys, you always shoved them in your pockets, as you considered it safer than your purse, not directly attached to your body. 
‘’T- thank you.’’ You stammer, you’ve had a couple of drinks as the club lights hit on your face making you stumble against him, the guy behind you dancing so carelessly, you’re being pushed left and right either way. 
‘’Be careful.’’ He smiles as he extends his arm to hold you upright, a mournful look on his face as he walks away. The keys. The man. The drink. Dark. There is no memory of what happened after. 
It’s the same voice you hear entering the room, was it even a room? The sounds echo as if you are in a cave.
‘’Finally, here you are darling.’’ He smoothly says as you scream the first thing that comes to your mind ‘’What the fuck do you want?’’. Your voice rips through the "cave" but you are certain it makes no difference. Whoever this is, doesn’t worry about the helpless sounds you’re about to make.
‘’Darling, please don’t yell, I’m right here.’’ The voice of the man inches closer, as the blindfold is being removed from your hurting eyes. Your heart races when you see him in all his glory, ominous stare and a tattoo decorating his forehead (did he have this at the club?), blue orb-shaped earrings, a peculiar attire that reminds you of a Victorian vampire—a long coat with feathers all the way down his ankles and some funny boots. His calm expression while supposed to be relaxing, just increases the nausea in your stomach, he seems familiar with such processes. As for the place, it isn’t coming to your aid either, you can’t recognize what this used to be (a warehouse? a prison? an actual cave for outcasts in the city suburbs?). You feel the known sensory feeling well up in your eyes, it’s starting to become serious. 
‘’W-what to do you want?’’ You stutter, unable to scream; you could but see no point.
‘’Are your hands in pain my darling?’’ His eyes look over your tied wrists with concern and he flinches looking at the knot. ‘’I told Feitan to go easy on you.’’ ‘’Well.. he just never listens.’’
‘’What do you want from me?’’ You want to scream and beg him to let you go, he didn’t assault you so what does he even want? You had no use to a person, as far as you knew, an unessential addition to people’s lives.
‘’My sweet darling..’’ He murmurs as he prolongs the sentence, his words making a bile travel to your mouth; your nausea from the drugging never really went away.
What sick game is this?
‘’Please excuse the sudden change of heart after our brief encounter at [ ]. I was hoping you can understand that I wanted you here today for a very special reason.’’ He starts and your heart’s thrumming, you silently beg him to get to the point. You want out of there immediately.
‘’Please!’’ You yelp frustrated ‘’Just tell me!’’
‘’How about I show you? Hmm?’’ He responds, his velvety voice making you gag. ‘’Shalnark!’’ He calls and a blonde guy (boy?) makes an appearance holding a.. tripod and a digital camera, which he sets right next to him, adjusting the tripod’s legs and connecting the mounting head with the camera.
‘’Everything's set up, anything else boss?’’ This guy literally beams as your eyes widen, was this a perverted farce? What did the guy mean with fucking boss?
‘’W-what is this?’’ You ask but ‘boss’ has his a attention directed at the blonde guy. 
‘’Think you’re forgetting something, Shalnark..’’ He playfully scolds and the boy’s eyes light up as if having a sudden godlike revelation. 
‘’You’re so right, boss!’’ He widely smiles as he exits.
‘’W-what are you gonna do?’’ You are crying, anxious and can't think straight—the psychotic simulation suddenly makes you wish it would’ve been a date rape.
The boy comes back and this time he is holding a wireless microphone, which he passes to the ‘boss’, his name unknown and not your concern at the moment as he wordlessly leaves you once again to his mercy.
‘’Now, sweetheart,’’ You flinch at the choice of words. ‘’I would like for you to hold this right here.’’ He tells you indicating the microphone ‘’I’m going to untie you, please think carefully of your next move.’’ He says as he comes close to you, removing the ropes and freeing your bruised wrists. Your eyes flicker, should you try this? He knows. He sees you. He is a Specialist after all, he has a reason. The split second your left foot is turned towards his right, a wide knife with a sharp blade is pressed to your neck, while you’re being headlocked to his sides. This happens so fast you hardly have time to comprehend it.
‘’Sweetheart.’’ He sighs. ‘’The knife’s not just sharp, it’s also poisonous, so please behave.’’ He goes about it as if he deals with things like that daily, you feel your legs trembe and almost snap but he lifts you up and places you back to your initial spot. What kind of a psychotic freak has a poisonous knife on them? And why are his reflexes so fast?
‘’Will you please hold this, darling?’’ He patiently asks again, as he hands the microphone over, your hands shake but you take it, eyes wide in fear.
‘’Now..’’ He smiles. ‘’We’ll go over the script, oh..it’s been such a long time since I’ve done this!’’ He exclaims looking...happy?
He hands you over a paper with a language you can’t understand and small dialogues—you take it it’s a German variation, as there’s these funny dots over the vowels but also has some incomprehensible words and you can’t make the distinction. On the bottom there’s this image of some superheroes with cleaning devices, one holds a broom, the other one a mop. Nothing makes sense and you feel exhausted as you try to negotiate a way out. Maybe he is just a freak who wants a stupid script played out, maybe it’s that. Maybe you will be able to be free, to see your cat again. Maybe. Logic has left you, but you don't seem to notice.
‘’W-will you..please..let me go after?’’ You whisper, ready to hear the worst.
‘’My precious, of course! Please grant me this favor and I will set you free immediately, I ask for you to forgive previous gestures on my behalf, it just happens that they mean so much to me..’’ The words linger as you suspiciously eye him up. This is not a time for bargains or reason so you’ll comply to the freak’s needs. 
You start reciting as he cuts you off. ‘’More passion, my angel, you need to say it aloud, shout out the line!’’ and you sniff, what a fucking weirdo. 
He makes you retake the incoherent dialogues multiple times, cutting you off, correcting you, shouting at you for not waiting for his part. Of course he assigned himself the leader role, must've been some god complex—no wonder from a perverted mind like his.
It is around the middle of the play, when you mispronounce a word that he seems agitated as he approaches you. He slaps your face with malice, an ominous stare, his eyes burn as you let the microphone fall from the impact. 
‘’You mispronounced this, she’d never do that.’’ He spits and you start feeling a new round of tears forming in your eyes, who she is and what you had to do with her not making any sense in your mind. You sob as you brokenly stutter.
‘’I-I'm sorry, w-we can redo this, please..’’ He stares at you, the same pitiful expression on his face. He doesn't look upset anymore, all that pent up anger left him, the more he looks in your pretty eyes, how could he stay mad at you? You were after all the person he used to care for the most. A veiny hand approaches your now disheveled pigtails (pigtail in actuality, as one hairtie fell off during your abduction) and his fingers twirl around it. His lower half close to your face as you look up at him. He is absentmindedly staring at your hair when he kneels down to your height. 
‘’I’m sorry.’’ He smiles. ‘’Would you forgive me, my darling?’’ His breath fans on the red mark and your parted mouth. Tears are staining your cheeks as he brushes a thumb to 'clean' you. The proximity is eerie, you hesitantly avert your eyes as you gulp.
‘’Y-yes, sir,’’ You whisper, ‘’l-let’s continue this.’’ You're eager to be set free, eager for this twisted game to end. 
‘’No, we shall not occupy ourselves with my play anymore, Sarasa.’’
Sarasa? Who the fuck is this and what did you have to do with her? 
You don't like the new proximity, it makes you anxious, his hands still cup your jaw before he stands up and tugs at the loosened pigtail.
A bulge now decorates his pants and while you try to avert your eyes, you can't help but notice it. His finger grazes over your lips as he slides one in your mouth, observing you from above the whole time. A sigh escapes his lips when he hears you gag.
‘’Suck on it...’’ he orders, ‘’please, darling.’’
There's no plea in this tone, only authoritative command. You do as asked and he readjusts his legs. You can guess what's next and you just want this to be over—there is no escape but if sucking him off means you get to be free, you’d be more than willing to do that.
He unzips his pants, sliding them down together with his boxers as his cock springs free, he is probably the biggest you've seen and you panic thinking of him in your mouth. He must’ve noticed because he chuckles and approaches you. You are about to shut your eyes and start the lewd act when he steps aside and ties your wrists behind your back again. Left with your mouth hanging open, a victim to merciless desires, he puts his fingers in your mouth. Your saliva coats the digits, which he removes and cautiously places on his cock, stroking himself to the sight of you, stricken with fear and quivering, his good Sarasa, how he had failed to protect her, as he continues to jerk himself off in front of you. The scene is lewd: his naked torso protrudes over his ridiculously oversized feather coat, his cock oozes his precum and makes wet sounds coming in contact with your saliva and a tormented face; his head's arched back and slow ‘’im sorry’’s exit his mouth. You feel a sting in your core looking at him and the vague bile you had in your throat makes you audibly gag. How can you be thinking like this right now? But your body isn't run by your superego, your moral compass doesn't dictate your physical instincts and your legs are unconsciously brought together to alleviate the pain.
He is getting himself off, glancing at you, knowing you drink him in. His strokes become faster when he suddenly touches your lips with his thumb and parts your mouth only for an angry cock to slam against your throat without a warning. He hisses and grabs your head to push your mouth and nose all the way down, he wants his release and wants it now. You can't breathe or shout or protest in any way, only wiggling your tied hands and crying out in pain, which comes off as groans that reverberate on him and he crumbles— falling apart, moaning and shooting all his release down your throat. Snots and tears fall on his cock and he slowly removes himself.
‘’What a mess you made, darling.’’ He exhales too composed, looking down.
You were responsible for this? 
‘’I hope the camera is still on, because I am intending to punish you, Sarasa.’’ He continues. ‘’You only had one line, my angel, one line in the entire play and you couldn't make it. You know how much this upsets me?’’ His voice almost breaks, the ordeal messes you up even more.
You can’t understand him, you want to get out, your throat already hurts from his penetration and you fear for the next part. You know it must involve sex and shudder at the realization he'll have to touch you down there. The thought that you had been wet up until he came in your mouth, the fact that he would soon enough know this, the fact that you have been involuntarily aiding his mission by complying to his cruel needs makes you feel vile but you have no time to process this as you feel two arms cutting the ropes quickly, letting you free from the chair you were tied to. 
You jump up before realizing it, you’ll run you think—(you really don't have time to think, you act solely on instinct) but his agility prevails once again, fast reflexes have your neck choked as he grabs you from behind, the knife with the black handle against an artery as you halt. 
‘’This was my last warning, sweetheart, please comply before it’s too late.’’ 
He is dragging you back, forcing you to turn around, his cock still free and half hard, is he seriously turned on by your futile attempts for freedom?
What a sick person.
He languidly sits on the chair with his coat draping and touching the floor as he positions you on his bare lap. You draw a sharp breath, as you feel him under you, a disgusting cock rubbing your clothed entrance —he sighs and pulls you in an embrace. He smells like cedar, you think, cedar and sweat as he brings his lips to yours, connecting them softly. You keep them shut, your eyes open and he knows it because he quickly pulls away. ‘’Darling, why don’t you kiss me?’’ he murmurs. You feel a sharp blade trailing down your spine, his knife moves to your sides and pokes at the flesh as he brings his lips close again. Your skirt reminds him of hers and it makes him desperate for closure, he'd protect her better this time, he thinks as a stiff cock touches your panties, connecting your heat to his and making you softly whine, sounds you can't control. ‘’Please..’’ he whispers and you finally do it. You let yourself get lost in the moment, your freedom is close but the more you think about it, the more anxious you become and sadistic tendencies like his leave no space for slip ups. His mouth clashes against yours, tongue overlapping your own, of course he'd be in control, while the knife rests on your lower back. You start grinding down his length, hands digging at the roots of his hair as you feel yourself lubricated against your will, you want this to be over, that’s what you tell yourself. 
With a hand behind your back holding the knife and the other one free, he decides to feel your silky softness, test it for himself, his good girl, how obedient she is under his touch, how eager to be punished for her wrongdoings. He teases your entrance, as he smears the wetness gathered around, you choke on a moan, your still functioning conscious and pride making you want to stay silent but that's impossible with a hand around your clit and a finger sliding with ease inside your walls. The knife also doesn't leave you with another choice.
‘’I want you to call out my name.’’ He hums as he continues his rhythm, you are slowly coming undone on his fingers.
‘’W-what’s your name, sir?’’ You manage to breathe out in between thrusts, you’ve been trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, instinctively guided by a pressure within.
‘’Chrollo.’’ 
What a funny name. 
‘’P-please..Chrollo.’’ You whine, it's when he decides to remove his fingers from you. 
‘’Oh, Sarasa,’’ he sighs, ‘’you’ve misbehaved enough today, I really wanted to punish you, you know that?’’ 
‘’N-no, p-please, Chrollo..’’ You practically purr. At this point calling you Sarasa doesn't even bother you, you got accustomed to it some time ago. 
Something in the way you hum his name makes his eyes flicker and he wordlessly drops the knife behind him, as he squeezes his cock to line up with your slit.
‘’Don’t think I don’t have other means to restrain you, darling.’’ He mutters and pulls you down on him, giving you no time to adjust to his girth, the head slamming against your insides as you let out a lewd moan. 
‘’S-sir!’’ You moan, as you're sucking him in, taking every inch as best as you can given the circumstance while large palms viciously grope your behind, smashing your hips down his groin. Your pretty face bouncing atop him, wide eyes, oh these eyes, looking at his now fully darkened ones and he watches his pretty girl come apart, soft moans leaving your smudged lips, pigtails now fully disheveled; your hair bounces freely on your delicate shoulders. He observes your mouth, how beautiful it looks each time it curves and smiles at him, each time you’d tell him ‘’Look at what I found!’’ excitedly, a tape among the junk, a broken toy—you were his favorite companion. Chrollo feels himself jerk within your walls, you're trapping him inside and he won't last long. 
‘’Come for me, please...’’ He needs this, he needs you. You grip his hair fervently as you let out small ‘’fuck’’s (involuntarily, you convince yourself).
He is inching you closer to your relief despite your disdain and you can tell he is there with you, parted mouth leaving shaky, pleading blabbers, as he grabs your hair and twists it in his palm, tugging at it harshly. You are forced to throw your head back so it gives him the opportunity to assault your neck, sucking and biting on it, the sensation tingles and arouses you as you come apart, digging your nails in his arms.
‘’C-chrollo–agh!’’ You sing, it pleases him and makes him groan—he is cumming for you, your core spasms and tightens, clit pulsating and muscles taut as he thrusts upwards to fill you up as much as anatomically possible. Semen starts falling down his thighs but he still holds you tightly. He's marked you his twice and doesn't think he'll ever forget.
‘’My good girl...’’ He exhales shakily, ‘’my precious, little girl.’’ He continues, rubbing your back, as your weight falls on him, the knife tossed behind him looks at you and you shut your eyes.
-
Chrollo lets you go. He doesn’t order you a ride or have the blonde guy escort you. You have to walk 45 exhausting minutes to find a bus stop and even then, you hardly recognize the area. 
He leaves for the next 6 months, not communicating anything to the rest of the Troupe, people overestimate their closeness. He replays your video every night while he’s away fighting and earning (stealing) abilities, your beautiful, expressive eyes haunt his dreams, Sarasa would like you if she met you. Sarasa would make friends with you. Sarasa, you. What's the difference? 
Chrollo comes back only to find you sleeping, so peacefully he rejoices at the sight. Absolutely perfect and innocent, he tainted you and you didn’t even care? He smiles. He tells himself you're a bad girl for sleeping with your doors unlocked, just like Sarasa liked to wander on her own and look where that got her. Maybe the door wasn’t unlocked, it’s something he finds irrelevant now. He had kept his promise, he thinks. You should be grateful he’s honest.
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diejager · 1 year
Note
i love your platonic yandere ghost x little sister reader so much.
…can we get a feral big brother ghost?
or ofc if that’s too much (which i understand) then may i request a situation where ghost and his little sister get into a fight?
I wasn’t sure what you meant, so I tried smt??
Sibling Quarrel
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Pairing:big brother!Ghost & little sister!reader
Cw: verbal arguments, platonic yandere, possessive, isolation, threats, physical altercation, verbal to physical fight but nothing violent, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.5k
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“I told you not to do that!” You screamed, erratically waving your arms around you, hands clenched in a fist and shoulders shaking. “I told you, Simon!”
“And I told you how dangerous it could be!” He growled back at you, hands clenched to his side, body shaking in pent-up frustration. He didn’t know whether it was against you or the man who’d been trying to hit on you, but he felt frustrated and angry. “I warned you, (Name)!!” 
You scoffed, turning around, giving him your back as you screamed into the ever-calmness of your shared room. A cry of anguish and loneliness, a far cry from your smiling and happy self from years back, your isolation and background made it difficult - near impossible - to form a long, lasting relationship with someone, be it a friend or lover. You moved with Simon, you changed with Simon, you died with Simon, as much as Simon would with you. Being the two last of your family, one could not live without the other.
Yet that did not give him the permission to rule over your life with a gavel, pushing away those that you’d come to care for, building a wall around you against the harsh world, or standing between you and someone else. Granted, he had his reservations, but that didn’t mean you’d abide by all of his rules. He could only do so much until you caught on, and when you did - as he expected - you wouldn’t react so approvingly. 
That time when your “friends” wouldn’t talk to you, giving you the cold shoulder as they shuffled away hastily in a group, holding their arms as if they’d fall off. They wouldn’t talk to you when you cornered them one by one, stalking the halls of the base at night until you ran into them, asking, pleading to know why they wouldn’t talk to you anymore. Everyone would shake, trembling in the spot you’d pushed them into, eyes fleetingly scarce when you urged them to look at you as if it was made taboo for them to simply look at you. They mumbled excuses, soft pleas when a steady hand fell on your shoulder, the familiar presence of your brother standing behind you. All they did was shake and run, knees weak and mind faint.
Or the time when men and women alike would walk away when you arrived, reeling back to pave a path for you to walk through. Their eyes gazed at the ground when you passed as if it was ingrained into their bones that staring at you was forbidden. Those lower than Ghost would cower in fear, even some higher than him feared him solely by his reputation. Ghost’s name came in synch with yours, it was never only Ghost nor simply Doc, it was Ghost and Doc, balaclava-wearing specialists in the 141, or the ghost duo, being forgotten members of society. 
Or the time when everyone simply ignored you, walking away once you approached them. They would slowly and unconsciously walk off when it was just you, their backs turned to you and shoulders tense, but when you were beside Ghost, they would scurry away in fright and anxiety, rushing off before he could even step inside the room. 
It was then you realised that your name besides Ghost was what warded them away, he was pushing people away from you with his name, his gaze and his words. They were cut-throat and blunt, dangerously calm and murderously malicious. Your brother ensured that you would be his alone, your body, mind and soul his own. 
“Don’t turn your back to me, (Name),” his voice was deathly quiet, a threat lacing his tone. His broad body standing behind you, tall and unmoving to all but himself. “Don’t walk away.”
You glared at him, face turned to peer at him from your shoulders. You slowed your steps, feet moving one after the other in a slow motion: “Watch me.” Was all you gave him before striding confidently towards the door, arms outstretched to reach the knob with your gloved hand, the cool metal fated to meet your warm flesh- 
You grunted, body slammed into the wall beside the door. You spat curses at Ghost, arms clasped to your sides, unmoving and uncooperative to your wants. He pressed himself against you, his hard shoulders blocking you from peering over him, his strong arms holding you still and his steady legs holding you in place. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. You faced him, eyes glaring up at your brother, your hate and anger burning into his pale face. In the privacy of your shared room, you could comfortably walk around without your masks, faces bare to each other. You couldn’t hide your expression from him, and he couldn’t hide his tears from you. It was a blessing and a curse, there was no secret between you, but it was hard to hide anything when your eyes were so expressive. 
You caught the hardness in his orbs, the cool and menacing threat he posed toward you. Although you shared blood and a connection thicker than anything, he wouldn’t fear showing you the darker side of himself, the all-imposing and domineering man that gained the fear and respect he held. Your lips pulled into a sneer, baring your teeth at him like an - wounded and cornered - animal, and he returned the sentiment, his chapped lips parting to hiss at you with sharp teeth and even sharper canines. It made your growl look pathetic, his bigger set of teeth gleaming under the dim lighting of your room and his harsh glare life-ending.
However tall and threatening he was, you didn’t back down, being a medic didn’t necessarily mean that you were weak-willed or feeble, you were as much as Ghost was, strong-headed and stubborn. That was something you shared with all your siblings, that stubbornness that made you nearly insufferable, even within the family. Yet people would see the stark difference between you, his towering terror against your puppy-like attempt at seeming threatening. 
“Back off.”
“No.”
“I said back off, Simon.”
You threw your head forward, your forehead aiming to break the soft cartilage of his nose, but you were pushed back, a hand leaving your arm to hold your throat against the wall. You sputtered, your free hand grasping his wrist. It was warm, burning in a way that had you sweating and panting loudly. Ghost narrowed his eyes, his grasp on your throat loose and soft, non-threatening against the light of his universe, but if you kept squirming and struggling, he’d have to tighten his hand around your neck, your small, weak throat right under his big palm. He had you where he wanted, weak and vulnerable, pliant - as pliant as you could be in this moment - under him. 
“I told you,” his chest rumbled with a low growl, his shoulders shaking with the force of his restraint, but his body remained still. “I warned you, (Name).”
He’d warned you, but about what? Was it him warning you about not walking away from him? Or was it about something else? You wondered what he meant, his words holding a deeper meaning to it. Perhaps it was the darker intonations, his narrowed eyes or your situation. You couldn’t and wouldn’t understand what went on in his mind in these moments, where he shut you out and wore a mask. 
“About?” You tried, all you could do was push and push until he let you in, to lower his wall and let his kid sister in, to understand his pain and his fear. You knew he dealt with harsher things than you did, so all you could do was stand beside him and support whatever he wanted. 
You asked a second time when all he did was stare at you through squinted eyes, his eyes glazing over with a deathly still daze, mind lost to whatever thoughts he had swirling in his mind. You couldn’t let him lose himself in another torrent of self-hate and self-deprecation, to fall into another pit of neglect and loss. Your hand glided over his forearm and shoulder, to hold his nape reassuringly. It was something he used to do with you when you panicked, grounding you with soft circles on the side of your neck. 
You saw his sneer loosen, his shoulders relaxing as he moved to pull you into his arms, one hand urging your head to rest on his shoulder and the other gripping your waist, embracing you within his warm arms. Sometimes, Simon might be harsh or mean, or he could be silent and glaring, but he could also be soft and caring, or loving and obnoxious. You might hate him on some days and loathe him on others, but you always came back to him, like a moth to a flame, you depended on him as much as he depended on you. 
“You don’t have to tell me, Si,” you whispered, humming softly in his ears as he ran his fingers through your hair, mumbling apologies. You hated when he turned this way after a rough confrontation between you both, how broken and wounded he sounded, or tearful and sad as he pleaded for your forgiveness. You’d always forgive him, he was your only family, no matter how feral you both acted. “Stop apologising. You don’t have to, I’ll always forgive you.”
His shoulders shook, a choked breath leaving his frowning lips.
“Always.”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs
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livelaughlovesubs · 1 month
Note
Do you do yandere User x Chuuya? If not, then can i request a Chuuya x User who is a shapeshifter.
User can turn into any kind of dogs to just comfort him when he sad or something.
Or it can get creative in bed?
(P/s: i like your works, but also remember to take a rest and take care of yourself:3)
Ohhh yandere reader? Sure~ let’s see what we can do with that hehe… (also sorry for replying so late)
Dom!yandere!reader x sub!chuuya - reader is gn
Warning: not smut this time, gore (?), yandere behaviour - stalking, obsession, hair pulling, stepping, use of drugs, kidnapping, violence
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“M-motherfucker…” chuuya cursed under his breath, feeling a shiver ran down his spine. He stood at the doorframe, one hand leaned against the wood and one bawled into a fist. In front of him was supposed to be the group of enemies he was expected to eliminate. Yet the state they were in, or- what was left of them can’t even be buried at this point. A grotesque scene with blood splattered everywhere, every furniture tainted red and a huge heart drawn on the wall opposite to the entrance. There were also letters written inside the heart, if you looked closely it spelled his name. Was someone playing a prank on him?
The worst is, this isn’t the first time, someone has been doing his work for him for months now. Every time he’d arrive at the designated spot, he’d be met with some bullshit like this, there’d be hearts out of blood or corpses everywhere as well. “Urgh! I’ll find that fucker next time.” He groaned, stomping out of the room in a fit of rage. Suddenly he heard a click sound and looked back, seeing nothing but the gigantic heart. The redhead gnarled his teeth, then used his ability to shatter the wall all while holding his hat down. If the cops came and saw his name, it would be troublesome.
Afterwards, he left without looking back, the only thing that lingered was his loud footsteps. Another click sound, this time paired with the noises of a fanatic fan, “ahhhh, so cute~!” Your bottom lip trembled in excitement as you stared at his shadow, hands clutching a camera. As soon as he was out of sight, you stared down at the photos you took. There was a great shot of him looking pissed, or angry, and using his ability… “ugh he looks so handsome here~” you clasped your hand over your mouth, heart pounding as your breathing ragged.
This started since you first caught a glimpse of him. It was during one of his undercover missions, were he infiltrated another organisation where you happened to work at. Due to sheer luck, he didn’t catch you, and you were simply smitten with him. How he killed with such brutality, with a scoff on his face and his foul mouth. Since then you’ve been fantasising about that angry expression he wore. It was the most beautiful thing you’ve seen.
But, with him inching closer and closer to the truth, it was time for you to reveal yourself. You’ve been waiting for this day for what felt like eternity anyway. That’s why you waited and waited, until he was all alone, in a vulnerable place. Then you approached him, tapping his shoulder. “Haah? What do you- mffFFHH..?!” Chuuya turned around, and little annoyed by your presence until you suddenly kissed him. Before he knew it, he felt himself swallowed something suspicious.
“Uh-ugHHh..!” He pushed you away before slapping you, fury spreading throughout his body. When he finally calmed down and looked at your face, his eyes widened. You were holding the cheek he slapped with one hand and grinning from ear to ear, a heavy blush covering your face while your eyes pierced him. “Fucking freak… the heck did you feed me?!” The male yelled, gritting through clenched teeth, ready to use his ability on you when he suddenly realised nothing happened. To say he was surprised wouldn’t be a good fit, he was baffled.
Now, he was staring at his hands while sweat formed on his forehead, how and why was this happening? Calm down calm down, even then, he’s a specialist in martial arts, there’s no way he’d lose against you. “That’s a new expression, I like it.” You chuckled with smiley eyes, closing the distance between the two of you. “Damn it, don’t come closer!” Chuuya shouted at you, backing up a few steps. He was just nervous, at how his ability wasn’t working. His mind rattled as fast as he could, that’s when he remembered the weird thing you made him swallow.
He growled once again while attempting to punch you, “tell me, what did you fed me?!” But this time he didn’t land, instead, you grabbed his wrist and threw him onto the ground. After that, you stepped onto his back with one foot. “UrghH..! B-bastard.” You could hear him whisper, though it was way more tame than before. “Keep glaring at me like that, I love that gaze.” Your chilly voice gave him a scare, making him freeze for a second. “Oh no, don’t stop, be angry at me, show me that beautiful face.”
And he did, trying to push himself up with his strength. Though it was difficult in such a position and without an ability. Each time he would get up a little, you’d crush his hopes almost instantly by using more force as well. You saw how much efforts he was putting into this, so you laughed and decided to answer his questions. “The pill I gave you was an ability repressor. Don’t worry, it isn’t gone forever.” Somehow, a part of him did calm down after hearing those words. Nothing went unnoticed under your watchful eyes though, you’ve studied him enough to notice very little shift on his features.
“That reminds me, how did you like the confessions of love I left for you?” What now? Confessions of love? You couldn’t possibly mean those fucked up paintings on the wall. As if you could read his thoughts, you fumbled with your pocket before taking out a batch of photos and dropping them onto the ground. These were all photos of him, tausends of different ones from all possible angles. He felt his breath hitching in his throat, at the craziness of the situation. So you were the one leaving all those disturbing and weird scenes behind, all because you liked him? How did you even know what missions he’d get?
Out of nowhere he giggled, then mumbled, “you fucking psycho, haha.. aren’t you just a perverted stalker?” His words didn’t really affect you, but his furious face did. You felt your chest tighten, blood rushing and stomach curling. This sweet and twisted feeling didn’t want to leave you alone, so you’ve decided to chase it. “Yes, just like that. Look at me just like that, chuuya.” You smirked all lustful, breathing hitching while mentioning his name.
He really didn’t want to hear you say his name, it made him feel repulsed, disgusted even. “What do you want from me.” Chuuya snapped, glaring at you with murderous intention. “I just want you to be mad at me, so please do it, chuuya ♡” you admitted, clasping your hands together then lowering yourself to his level. Then, you grabbed his hair and yanked on it, making him look up. “UrghHH!! Let go of me you fucker!!” That action of yours was obviously immediately met with more insults and vicious names from the boy.
To his dismay you looked satisfied, happy that he was such a stubborn individual. “How I’d love for this to go on forever, haaah~ to watch that gorgeous expression on your face until I’ve mesmerised it.” You rambled to yourself, and he gulped loudly, getting an uneasy feeling. “But i have to put it on hold for now. It’s alright, we will have all the time in the world.” As soon as you finished your little speech, you clasped a hand over his mouth and stuffed something in again.
“MfffGHH!! F-fUHNM!!” He tried to shake your hand off, bite it, refuse it, yet nothing worked. You didn’t let loose until you were sure he ate it. All this time you had an ecstatic look on your face, smirking satisfied and joyful, as if you were enjoying it. Then he felt his consciousness fading, vision blurring as the last thing he heard was, “sleep tight, chuuya.”
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yanderes-galore · 6 months
Note
Pet-like Dramillion x captive!reader, maybe it’s a scene where the riders come across them and they try to help reader escape but it fails?
Httyd fandom
There's an "Alpha" Dramillion in this, but I also mention other Dramillions in this :) Not fully proofread, may contain mistakes.
Part Of The Pack
Yandere! Dramillion(s) with Captive! Darling Short
Pairing: Animal/Pet-Like
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Violence, Threats, Kidnapping, Forced companionship.
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Even after all your time here, you still managed to get lost on Dramillion Island. You had originally come here as a captive dragon specialist with the Dragon Hunters. You had noticed them catching Dramillions and sabotaged them whenever you could.
In response to this, the Dramillions in the area began to see you as savior... the only human they're willing to listen to. It was months ago when a bright blue Dramillion took you in. Dragon hunting was still occurring... but you were protected in exchange for trying to save the Dramillions.
Eventually, when they were taught by the Dragon Riders to save themselves, they didn't need to be scared anymore. However... the dragons never let you leave. Especially an alpha Dramillion... whom you named "Azure" due to the blue coloring on its scales.
Azure had always kept a keen eye on you. You stayed in their nest as other Dramillions roamed around. The dragons surprisingly cared for you...
But you knew this was not your home.
Regardless of what the dragons thought.
You knew you had to take your chance for escape at some point. You loved the Dramillions, you loved Azure, yet you needed to get home. They couldn't take care of you forever.
So when you saw signs of the Dragon Riders returning... you took a chance.
You could hear the cries and growls of Dramillions in the distance as you ran. You had managed to escape Azure's nest and began to run in the direction of where you heard the Dragon Riders. When you entered a clearing... you saw a Gronckle and a Night Fury.
You know these guys...
Fishlegs and Hiccup.
It appears that Fishlegs came back to check on the Dramillion population. What he and Hiccup weren't expecting was you to come stumbling out of the woods with tattered clothes.
You looked like a mess... collapsing on the grass with an exhausted sigh.
Both riders came running over to you. You felt one of them help you stand up as you shuddered. Fishlegs looks at you with concern.
"Woah, what happened?" Fishlegs asks as you try to recollect yourself.
"I've... been stuck here with the Dramillions for months." You whimper. "I just want to leave... I want to go home...."
"With the Dramillions? Are you saying they've... kept you here?" Hiccup questions, confused at the behavior. You nod quickly, only to flinch when you heard roaring.
Quickly turning, you're met with Azure and a couple other Dramillions. Reds, yellow, blues... the colors are pretty but dangerous. Especially when Azure stalks closer with a growl.
"H-Hey, Fishlegs... are they always this aggressive?" Hiccup asks, pushing you behind them both.
"Not with me! They should be fine now...." Fishlegs answers, watching carefully as Azure stares at... you.
Both riders can sense the danger. It's clear what you were saying was the truth. The Dramillion pack had imprinted on you... and they weren't going to let you go.
"Fishlegs, try to calm them down... I'll take them somewhere safe." Hiccup orders, ushering you onto the back of Toothless before taking off. Fishlegs goes to try and calm the Dramillions down... only for Azure to take off after you.
"W-Wait, where are you going!?" Fishlegs panicks as the Alpha Dramillion chases Toothless with two other Dramillions.
You shake as Hiccup flies Toothless. The chase is on... involving Hiccup trying to shake the Dramillions off. Unfortunately... it's three against one.
With a thwack, one of the other Dramillions hits into Toothless while another blasts with a plasma bolt they copied. The hits make you fall off the dragon, squealing in fear. You think you are to hit the water... noticing Toothless and Hiccup diving down too.
But Azure is quick to catch you on their back... flying off with a loud call.
The two other Dramillions follow their Alpha, calmed when they see you on the back of Azure. You shake your head and try to reason, affectionately calling the dragon's given nickname. Said dragon ignores you... no doubt flying back to their nest.
You wonder if the Dragon Riders will try again to save you... maybe with more riders...
Or maybe you really will be stuck here on Dramillion Island for the rest of your life.
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callieyanderechan · 1 year
Note
Could you make Yandere Helia(Winx Club), please?
Ask and you shall receive anon
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YANDERE HELIA X READER
Literally so sweet to you but if he feels like ANYONE is going to take you from him he will go crazy
Before you where a couple you'd always get sketches of you from an anonymous admirer
You thought they where sweet until you started getting ones of you sleeping
Won't let anyone of the other specialists are allowed around, especially not Riven.
If you get upset that he's so protective he will try to manipulate you
"I'm only trying to keep you safe my flower, you don't know what men think when they see a beautiful girl like you, but I do."
And you believe him because he's Helia.
He's the sweet one, why would he lie to you? Obviously he knows what's best
Will eventually cut you off from everyone, your friends, family, strangers, EVERYONE
Why would you need anyone else? They don't care for you the way he does
Won't kill anyone but will attack, he wants them to live as a message to anyone who tries to take you
Wouldn't ever hurt you, you're his flower, his dove, if he ever hurt you he would never forgive himself
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illubean · 6 months
Note
Dawg I just wanna thank you for writing stuff for kurapika x reader in general, cuz that tag is dead (has been for a while) and nothing new besides rape and/or yandere pops up there 😭😭
U don’t have to (cuz let’s be honest, it’s kinda cringey 💀) but smth that’s almost always on my mind when thinking abt kurapika is him with a fem!kurta! Reader who’s a survivor. Him being stressed to hell and back makes me sad so I typically think of reader being a specialist (man do I love me some strong women-) who can take care of herself. Her helping kurapika out with the troupe is debatable but she doesn’t take no for an answer when it comes to searching for their clan’s eyes.
-🦘
Kurapika Finding a Kurta!Reader
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Characters: Kurapika Kurta Type: Headcanons, Fem!reader
tbh I don't even like Kurapika like that I just happen to get a lot of requests for/including him LOL
Warnings: none
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after finding out there was another Kurta out there he was DISTRAUGHT
he made it a mission to find and protect you
but after finding out you can take care of yourself and you're a nen user he's less worried
that doesn't mean he stops looking out for you though
it's just natural to want to take care of you, you're all he has left of his clan :(((
when he found out you were a nen user he was relieved especially since you're just a girl in the world ✊😔
since all of the Kurta have the same eye's I am assuming that means everyone in the clan save for those married into it are somewhat related
regardless he treats you like a sister (if that's not what you wanted sry)
that being said, when you say you want to help him get back the eyes of your brethren he's very hesitant
he tries keeping you away from the violent part of getting rid of the phantom troupe as much as possible
he understands if you have different morals but nothing you say is going to stop him from killing the members of the phantom troupe
i have no clue what he does with the eyes after getting them back(or if he does at all, it's been a while) but you guys kinda just have them????
but anyways lets say somehow Kurapika is losing a fight somewhere and out of nowhere
BOOM
you show up and whoop the person's ass and save him
if he didn't already, respect = earned
haha this is kind of short sry idk where to go with this anymore
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