#yandere the matrix

[sweetwolfcupcake]

An Introduction

Secret Garden

Warning: Controlling behaviour, toxic possessiveness and protectiveness, manipulation, stalking and power-imbalance

An introduction to Yandere Neo Anderson

Unedited.

Also, the GIF is NOT mine, I got it from Google Images. The credit for this creation goes to its rightful owner.

Another complex character.

Before taking the pill, his life was very different. There was nothing noticeable, or extraordinary about him, he did not seem to have any real connection or relationship with people around him and he was like every other average person, the people he passed by on his way to work.

But that was the trick.

Thomas Anderson led a double life even before taking the pill. Being a master hacker showed his extraordinary intelligence and creativity. Neo was the man who wreaked havoc in the matrix despite being still bound to the matrix. Thomas never liked authority, but begrudgingly followed through because he had not yet found the cause to rebel. Neo, on the other hand, showed authority a virtual middle finger to it's face. This was shown in the interrogation scene of 'The Matrix' as well, where Thomas showed the agents a middle finger literally after his identity as Neo was revealed.

Thomas understood that there was something very wrong with the world, but could never put a pin on it. But he was actively searching, seeking, as Neo.

After he woke up, he adopted the name Neo as his real name. Neo, while being the anagram for 'One', also indicated 'new'. After taking the pill, not only was Neo freed, but went through a rebirth. Tearing through his pod. Thomas died with the intake of Redpill. Neo's search had (for the first part), ended. He had the answer to his 'Why'.

Why did he feel off, why did he feel different? Why was he so disturbed and isolated, searching through the net?

And that gave him the key to unlock the powers lying dormant within him. He became 'The One', once he started to believe in himself. And it was portrayed in the fight scene between him and Smith when he declared that his name was 'Neo'. At that moment, he began to believe in himself, his mind and its possibilities.

In the two instalments that followed, Neo grew increasingly confident and self-aware, gaining more powers. He developed this aura of an enlightened detachment around him. Power came from knowledge and Neo embodied that.

However, despite everything, he was not completely selfless. In the second movie, Neo showed his most humane side by defying the 'expected' behaviour from 'the one', and choosing to save his love over humanity. Beneath the layers, after all, Neo was a passionate and dedicated lover who saw his love as the most real out of everything he had seen and faced.

So...A yandere Neo

There are plenty of theories and video essays that actually point out that Neo is more selfish and villainous than he is portrayed. A least in the Matrix Trilogy. So, add some darker shades to this and you have someone who doesn't really care if he saves the world or not if it comes to choosing between love and altruism.

You see, it is hinted in the second movie already that Neo defies everything that is expected of him, his choices are different and while it is possible that choice itself is an illusion, he manages to see through that illusion and shows a metaphorical middle finger to the creator of it all, possibly The Architect.

He does care about humans, he is no Agent Smith. But in the first movie, it is during their fight that Smith says 'You are empty' to Neo, and Neo responds with 'So are you'. This can be a clue that Neo is not completely human. He and Smith are more similar than different. But while Smith is driven by hatred and greed, Neo by love and awareness.

As a yandere, Neo can be a bit delusional, since he is already hero-worshipped, there is a bit of a saviour complex in him and a sense of superiority. But as mentioned before, he is incredibly aware. So, do not take him as a fool, he is extremely difficult to trick. He can see through you, even if not instantly, eventually, he will.

Moreover, his powers grow incredibly as time passes. He has power in the matrix as well as in the real world. While he is wise enough to use the powers responsibly, he is not afraid to use them to show you your place. Beside him, nowhere else.

He will never physically hurt you, no. It even aches him to see tears in your eyes. However, when it comes to manipulating you, be it your perception, using his powers and influence to bend and mould it like he wants you to see...Neo will do that without a second thought.

He sees you as his better half, someone without whom, he can never be 'The One'.

Other than that, he does have the tendency to stalk you. Not always physically but through the matrix and other systems. He loves to watch you. All the time. It's like he is constantly trying to study you, to measure you. He is fascinated, yes, but like it's never enough. You can be doing the most mundane task like brushing your teeth and he is content to watch you do that for hours.

Neo as a lover, is actually a sweetheart. He always takes your comfort into consideration, even when you defy him. He does not like that, sure, but that's simply because he knows more than you, he knows better. If your defiance, though, threatens to break the structure of 'truth' he has built, or directly challenge the foundation of his beliefs or his perception (if you see through him and confront him), he will not hesitate to show you how he is your best bet in the world.

Take that however you like.

His love can be suffocating though. He is paranoid about his protectiveness, and territoriality. His possessiveness does not show because he is rarely challenged. And even if he is, it is seldom over you.

So, he is always keeping an eye on you and loves to hold influence over your decisions. Because in his mind, he is doing this for your own good.

****

Honestly, I find Neo to be an extremely complex character and an even more complex yandere. I might add or omit things here in future, but until then, this is all I have been able to come up with after analysing and discussing with some of my mutuals

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking of an isekaied reader and a yandere noble boy...

(gn reader x male noble yandere)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

tw: manipulative behavior, thats about it though

you stared at the honeysuckles climbing alongside the fence near the outskirts of your family's garden. as you continue examining them, it occurs to you that they seem to take on a vine-like shape, wrapping and constricting the fence. in front of the vines there are two smaller shrubs, also presumably honeysuckles.

as you stand there awkwardly lost in thought, oliver begins speaking. he takes one step forward as his eyes shift between the shrub and the vines, "there are three types of honeysuckle: shrubs, bushes, and vines."

he takes a careful step between the two shrubs and strides towards the vines, reaching a gentle hand out and caressing a pale pink, almost white blossom in his fingers. "while their flowers are pretty, in some places they can be invasive. they can block out sunlight, making it impossible for other plants to grow."

he's standing in front of you, so it's hard to gauge his expression. his voice is calm and serene, almost reverent as he speaks about the flowers.

"the pale pink flowers on the vines are likely common honeysuckle vines. while the pink tubular flowers on the shrub indicate that those are likely tatarian honeysuckles."

he slowly turns away from the vines as your eyes focus on his hand caressing the flower. in one swift motion he uses his left hand to pluck it off the vine, then turns towards the shrub. he's still standing in the same spot, but as he turns you can finally see his face.

his expression is cold, almost apathetic as he looks at the flowers. with how he sounded you would have expected him to at least be smiling. his dark brown eyes quickly meet yours before he looks at the shrub. he crouches down, still holding the pale pink flower in his left hand. his right hand reaches out gently to a darker pink blossom belonging to the shrub.

"chances are, some gardener got careless and either decided to plant these because they didn't feel like planting something higher maintenance... or they simply," he rips the flower off, "didn't notice that an invasive flower slipped into the garden..."

as he holds the pale pink flower in his left hand and a dark pink flower in his right, he finally shifts his body to face you and meets your eyes. his expression shifts to a much softer one as he looks at you, "i don't know what happened to you, but what i do know is that you are definitely acting different."

your blood runs cold, surprised he decided to bring this up again. you stand there for a second, about to reply before he smiles gently at you, catching you off guard.

"i know you have been having trouble with your memory, my love." he says, "it just..."

"it makes me so sad when you look at me like that... like..." you notice his eyes look sad, almost like he's tearing up as he speaks, "when you look at me like you don't know who i am, or what we were, or how much i love you."

he moves his hands to yours, gently taking your left palm and bringing it between the two of you. then he slowly holds up the two flowers in each of his hands, "obviously this isn't your fault, but..." he pauses, "i don't want to make you hate me by going too far too fast."

"so, i wanted to ask," he moves the dark pink tatarian honeysuckle towards you, "do you wish to resume our relationship, as passionate yet secret lovers," he moves the pale pink common honeysuckle flower closer to you, "or do you want to start over, from the moment where i got down on my knees and told you how much i love you for the first time?"

he looks at you gently, waiting for you to take one of the flowers in your hand, "i don't want to overwhelm you, darling, but please..."

"i just can't live without your love any longer. please, love, even if you don't remember, won't you fall in love with me again?"

a/n: (this is the part where my indecisiveness starts showing)

anyways !! would you like to "resume the relationship", start over, or say no to both (secret option he's not gonna say but i will)

[fernpetals]

After Life: The Past

Masterlist

Yandere Neo Anderson Headcanons

Part II

Based on this idea

Warning: NSFW-ish, stalking, creepy behaviour, violation of privacy, obsessive tendencies, red flag 'nice guy' Thomas, deviations from the original matrix plot, and characterisations, hints of social awkwardness and anxiety.

Inspired by a post about dark Neo by @97keanu and some late-night discussions with my mutuals (wink)

Unedited piece

Thomas Anderson was a socially awkward sceptic, living in alienation. Grinding through the monotonous cycle, while being aware, at the back of his mind, that something was very, very wrong with this world.

Thomas Anderson could only peek from his cubicle as you greeted your colleagues and went on with your day.

You adhered to your team. Never mingling too close to the rest. You were not impolite. Quite the opposite. Sweet smiles, nods of acknowledgement– polite and professional. But that was it.

Despite your politeness your kindness, you were not an open book. You gave an impression of being one, though. Knowingly. Or unconsciously, Thoman did not know. But despite his keen eyes, he could decipher only a little about you.

A part of him always longed to walk up to you and start a conversation. Maybe during coffee, or snack breaks, or when he would find you in the break room, all by yourself, scribbling something.

He would linger, but never get the courage to walk up to you. The most he had done was smile, nod, and greet you. You, of course, sweet thing, greeted him back with that devastating smile of yours that left his throat parched.

Thomas Anderson’s sweet brown eyes would meet yours across cubicles, and he would sigh. He did not want to think too much about you. He had no idea what truly intrigued him, but he couldn’t stop.

He…had to know more about you. The enigma that you were. Quiet, kind—with your perfect smile, sweet eyes, and polite mannerisms. No one was perfect, surely you were no exception.

Thomas liked to tell himself that he was merely curious about the human tendencies— deception, envy, anger, destruction—perhaps the most self-destructive race to ever walk on earth. Yet something innate within prevailed. The will to go on.

Thomas Anderson was curious by nature; he was snooping into your personal life—your digital files, simply out of curiosity.

Neo was the name associated with data breaches that made it to the headlines, shook up the security systems of governments and banks alike. Yet he chose to use his skills and time on you. Your digital files, on digging up information about you.

It would seem to be grossly wasted effort in the hacker community that respected NEO so much. 

But he did not regret one bit. Who knew 'Miss Polite and Perfect' had a digital diary? Who knew that her dark humour stemmed from the scepticism around the world, the way it was? You seemed more similar to him than he had thought before.

But that was not what made his blood race. It was what you had written. Short scenarios and stories of utter debauchery. 

Poor, poor you, writing her fantasies that would ‘never be probably fulfilled, 'it’s all too much, too good. Your words, not his. The fact that you did not expect any man to bring you the pleasure you imagined in those writings made him tick.

More than once, he had his pants unzipped and length out, leaking and angry as he read through your 'scenarios' and got off.

There were also personal musings and mundane happenings that you wrote. How your day went, what you thought of your teammates, who you liked, who you disliked, the one co-worker who would always be passing back-handed compliments and taking credit for your work.

Thomas found himself engrossed in your life. Even to the most mundane and minute details. The way you like your caffeine first thing in the morning, the fruits you liked, and what thoughts ran through your head. Your perception, your reality, you, you, you.

He did not mean to, but it became his motivation to go home and sit in front of the computer. His search for ‘Morpheus’ was not going anywhere anyway. Instead, he focused on reading and knowing all about you.

Reading as you typed into your digital diary, and the next day, finding the correlation between your words and actions in the office. 

You were pissed one night—all your hard work gone into the name of a pesky coworker. You wrote as you could see the prospect of promotion slipping from your fingers.

Thomas should not have bothered himself with it. He was not even bothered about his own promotion. He had no definite ‘vision of the future’ for himself. But it was the unjust treatment you were facing that made his jaws tighten and sweet brown eyes harden.

He knew he should have minded his business. Not even once, during months of reading through your digital diary, did he find his name. You never noticed him. He was simply one of the many employees you greeted and forgot.

He wished you would notice him. You never did. And it made something gnaw out from the gap in his chest.

Why would you not notice? Look at him. He was the one who left you a cup of coffee just right on your desk. You liked it, and he saw your smile. You should be trying to guess and find out who it was.

Why wouldn’t you just look at him? Okay, it was he who could never gather the courage to walk up to you, but he wished you would think of him, even for once, and mention him in the digital diary.

He began to obsessively search through your diary, trying to find anything remotely connected to him. You did not think of him at all. Though not surprised, it did hurt him a little. A more rational part of him knew that it should not hurt him, but how would you know?

But he was happy to see you happy and thriving. The bully of a co-worker being fired for compromising company information did not really make you happy, as he thought it would.

He spent hours breaking into the system and making it happen. But you were happy when the promotion you were eyeing landed right on your lap. It felt worth the effort.

When it was announced in the office, he was one of the first colleagues to congratulate you.

He made efforts that day. He chose a better shirt, he put time to comb his hair, he wore a more expensive cologne, he made conscious efforts to straighten up his shoulders and try keeping his nervousness down.

He was good at keeping a front, but his palms were sweaty. He had to wipe them off when he approached to congratulate you. Your hands felt so warm and soft, he thought they had finally found a blanket cosy enough to keep his soul warm.

But he ended up tripping over, almost falling until you caught him, looking at him with concern, asking if he was okay, pointing out the beads of sweat all over his forehead and nose.

He thought it was a lost battle until you pulled out your handkerchief to pat over his forehead and nose. “Thomas, you look stressed.”

He looked at you, eyes blinking in utter surprise, ��You remember my name?” You noticed him? You had noticed him before?

You chuckled. “Of course I do. I greet you every day, do I not?”

He could only nod. “Are you…Are you hungry? I was about to grab lunch, but it’s okay if you aren’t. The lunch is never good anyway, it's boring, I will just slide into the cafeteria and—”

“Yeah sure.”

“What?”

Your slow smile was a knife gradually pushing into his chest. “Let's go and grab lunch.”

And so began the habit of grabbing a bite, or simply coffee with you. At times, he would just get you a cup if you were too busy to leave your cubicle and chat away for a while. Every time he would arrive at your cubicle, he couldn’t help but glance at the desk.

He nodded to what you said, listened to. But every now and then, he would be distracted thinking about how good it would feel to pick you up and place you on that desk while he stood between your legs.

If you preferred pants, he thought about how fast he could pull them down and unzip his. If you wore skirts, he imagined how your naked thighs would feel under his fingers. 

His eyes would drop to your tinted lips—was your lipstick smudgeproof? He preferred it wasn’t. He could rub his thumb over your lips and watch the lipstick smudged all over. You would look prettier being a mess.

But most of all, he liked to hear your giggle, or the full-blown laughter that would turn heads in the dead and awful place. Nobody seemed to like any signs of life. The indoor plants felt fake, and everyone seemed to just type away like some robot in their cubicles.

He liked to imagine that you two stood out, laughing, softly initially, before busting into giggles and laughter that you two tried and failed to suppress.

He loved your laughter the most. The sound filled him with life, like moondust all over him, light filling him, like something restarted inside him. Like he could ride into the sunset with you by his side, laughing, talking, hair ruffled by the wind.

He could not believe how fast he turned from merely a colleague you greeted to becoming your friend. He knew he could be more than that, the flirty back and forth, the lingering stares, the awkward silences.

 He would spend night after night, smoking through his thoughts and mindlessly scrolling through his computer after reading your diary. You began to write about him. You began to think of him. You began to look forward to talking to him every day you walked into the office. You liked his company, you thought he had the sweetest brown eyes and the best dry humour.

The night he finally managed to ask you out was also the day Morpheus made contact with him. For the first time. It was a phone delivered to him.

It was also the day the agents took him for interrogation. They somehow knew that Morpheus had contacted him. 

The next thing he knew, he woke up in his room, and it seemed to be a nightmare. But it felt so real. Did the agents know that he was NEO? Did he show them the finger like he had been showing to the world, that felt very, very wrong? His surroundings often unsettled him. 

He asked you the next day if there were any strange men dressed in suits in the office. You were just as clueless as the rest. It had to be a dream, he told himself, trying to shake off the eerie feeling.

“So, this weekend, right?” 

When you asked him, looking up from the seat, expectant eyes and cheeks dusted with a tinge of warmth, Thomas was happy to shove the whole experience down at that moment.

“Yes, at seven. I’ll be waiting.”

It was the eve of your first date when Thomas was offered the chance to finally see Morpheus. The man he had been chasing for over a decade.

He was presented with a choice even before he was offered the choice between the red and the blue pill.

He glanced at the street that would lead him to the place where you would be waiting for him, and asked himself if he could live with the doubt and questions for the rest of his life. If he were content in a world that unsettled him?

The answer was no.

He could not. He needed answers. He needed to see Morpheus. So he made his choice. He got into that car, driving away from that street, but he felt like he had left a part of himself there.

When he finally met Morpheus and was presented with a life-defining choice, he asked one question: “Will I be able to come back here as I please…Like you do?”

Would he see you again?

It was a cryptic but affirmative ‘yes’.

And he made the choice he always knew he would. Even though his heart broke at the moment. But he had to know. He had to see the truth; he would always choose the truth.

His mind was consumed by your thoughts when he swallowed the red pill, and he thought of you after taking the pill.

You…

He knew you would be waiting in that cafe, but knew that had he chosen to walk away, he could have had a future with you. But he also knew that he could never live with the questions. This blind chase had to come to an end. He needed answers. He needed to know.

He made a choice, and nothing was the same again.

****

There will be a part II

[discoscoob]

THINKING ABOUT YANDERE NEO…

ִ ˙ ✩°˖💿 ⋆｡˚ A shameless ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ ripoff from your resident Harry Styles fan :)

After forcibly removing you from The Matrix, Neo’s hope that you would eventually learn to accept your new life in the real world never comes to fruition. So he has to try alternative measures.

His idea comes from the training programs but he tries something a bit more ambitious, he’s The One so he can practically do whatever he wants. He creates a whole simulated suburban town, designed like the 1950s and he keeps you plugged into it. Your mind is wiped of everything that came before and all you know is this simulation, you believe it to be the real world, you believe Neo is your husband and you’re happily married but you keep having such vivid dreams, where you live a completely different life (the life you had in the matrix) in a completely different world that is far more advanced and you have a successful career, you tell Neo about these dreams every morning before he “leaves for work” (unplugs from the simulation) and he acts amused telling you how absurd they sound.

One day you’re running errands when you see Neo’s car parked outside a motel. You watch him enter one of the rooms and your mind thinks the worst, that he is having an affair. Determined to confront him you storm over to the motel and barge into the room you saw him disappear into, prepared to find him with another woman only to be greeted by an empty room. Your feet quickly rush to the bathroom but that’s empty too. Feeling confused you come back to the room and notice the phone hanging off the hook and carefully put it back while your mind races wondering if you were imagining things. You startle when the shrill sound of the phone ringing echos through the room, making your heart leap out your chest. You quickly answer it and everything goes dark.

When you wake up, you’re in an unfamiliar dark room, you can feel the cold air against your skin as your blurry eyes try to look at your surroundings. It’s hard, your eyes hurt, you’re unaware of how long it’s been since you last used them. You look down, realising you’re strapped down to what looks like a dentist chair, you panic and start crying out for help. You notice all these strange ports on your skin with wires attached, you feel like you’re in a nightmare. Then Neo comes running into the room, realising you managed to escape the simulation. He soothes you, telling you this is just a dream as he plugs you back in.

Once you’re back inside the simulation, you wake up confused, the ‘nightmare’ still fresh in your mind and Neo is there ready to feed you some lie. You fainted in front of a motel he tells you but your memory tells you otherwise, you feel confused, wondering where the nightmare started and reality ended.

The next day while Neo is “at work” you revisit the motel room, it looks just like it did in your “dream” and the phone is sat on the beside table. You sit on the bed and hesitantly lift the phone off the hook and put it to your ear after taking a deep breath. Nothing happens. All you hear is the dial tone. With a sigh you put the phone back down and shake your head, convinced it was all just a dream you return home and your life with Neo continues as normal for a while again…

[wishful-thinking-is-dumb]

Hey guys, asks are open. You can ask for headcanons or one shots, I’m in a creative mood at the moment.

I write for:

Marvel (all movies and TV shows)

DC (all movies and TV shows)

John Wick

Invincible

The Legend of Zelda (all games)

Star Wars (all movies and TV shows)

The Matrix

Literally anything to do with Keanu Reeves <33

Attack on Titan

CoD

The Walking Dead

Please feel free to send me an ask <33

[matrixworship]

I need her name branded on me with an iron.

Need a collar with her name on the back. She’s literally my owner.

[odoraful]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋, 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐈𝐓?

content: sylus x gn!reader; reader is a resident of the N109 zone; meeting each other for the first time; suave and lowkey yandere vibes from sylus; 1.5k words

a/n: i know that the moon in N109 is depicted as being red in-game, but i changed it so that that is only a myth :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Here to watch the moon again?”

A voice called from behind you, somewhat cavalier.

Your posture stiffened, skin prickling with goosebumps. Inwardly you cursed at yourself. How had you not sensed someone approaching? Your instincts couldn’t be that dull. You regained your composure, trying your hardest to compress your surprise. Finding out that one had been caught off guard was a fast way to reveal a weakness in the N109 zone.

You sat on the ledge of a tall skyscraper, feet dangling below. The scenery before you was a complex matrix of buildings compacted together. Telephone poles and wires weaved between tight spaces, lights flickering below. Whether these lines actually functioned well enough to contact others you were doubtful about. Though, it hardly mattered. If you were in need of help in N109, there was usually only one option—fend for yourself. Quickly assessing your situation, you concluded that this person was not here to harm you. If he wanted to, he could have easily pushed you off the side of the building, or struck you in the back before you could even detect his presence.

“Again?” you repeated, steadying your tone. “You imply that you’ve seen me here before, and yet you’ve never bothered to approach me until now.”

You leaned back on your hands, the concrete cold beneath your fingers. All you had to do was put on enough air of confidence, and it would grant you the escape you needed.

“Who are you?”

Turning your head over your shoulder, you looked at your supposed stalker.

You’ve encountered many different people here in the N109 zone, but none as deadly-looking as the man standing merely metres from you. His hair was a cool grey, combed over to reveal his forehead. He dressed in all black, save for the silver accessory pinned between the collars of his dress shirt that glinted in the moonlight. Hypnotising red eyes pierced through you, his gaze crawling under your skin. He seemed to be made of up sharp angles and intimidating arrogance. Unexpectedly, he wore a smile on his face. You immediately quashed down the thought of how attractive he was, his lips curled upwards in amusement.

“Just another enjoyer of the night sky, much like yourself,” he answered.

Your heart traitorously thundered in your ears at the smoothness of his words. Your eyes never left him as he walked closer to you, the heels of his dress shoes clacking against concrete, until he stood near your side.

“This is a spot I also like to frequent, you see.”

This time, you couldn’t hide your shock as he bent down to sit on the ledge as well. Your mouth parted and eyes widened slightly. How could he act so unguarded? He glanced at your expression and laughed, a warmer sound that clashed greatly with his forbidding appearance.

“What is it? Are you so unused to company?” he asked. You couldn’t tell if the innocence in his voice was real or mocking. Was he… teasing you?

“N-not at all,” you replied, more rushed than you intended. Your confidence began to slip away. Everything this man said felt like he was testing you. “You’re welcome to sit wherever you please.”

He bowed his head, exaggerating graciousness. “Your kindness is appreciated.”

The silence that followed was oppressive. You could hardly enjoy the night with a stranger (who hadn’t even given his name to you) sitting beside you. Perhaps this was some bizarre tactic to force information out of you. You would become so uncomfortable with the silence that you would spill every secret you had to him. However, as you snuck glances at him, you found his attention drawn only toward the sky. The light of the moon reflected off his irises, transforming them into a bright crimson. You tried to think of a conversation topic. Anything for you to know more about this strange man.

His question came before yours.

“Why do you come here?” he asked, eyes landing on you once more. “This is one of the tallest buildings in this zone, and the rooftop isn’t accessible from inside.” He lifted a hand to his chin, suddenly in thought. “You would need to climb up to the 40th floor, then scale across to the left hand side of the building towards the abandoned scaffolding. From there, you would be able to reach the broken ladder to get to the roof.”

You bristled uneasily. Surely it was coincidence that he recited your exact route to get here. He must have used the same path as well.

“It’s undoubtedly a dangerous climb, that only a skilled person could pull off. There are much more… safer viewing spots in this place.”

You paused, trying to discern anything in him about his true intentions. Besides for genuine interest in the slight tilt of his head, you could glean no other ulterior motives in this line of questioning. Maybe he really was just another person in the N109 zone trying to survive.

“Perhaps there are.” You replied, looking down at the streets below. After visiting this rooftop every night, you no longer felt any vertigo. “It’s funny. Those people in Linkon always craft such sordid tales about what the sky is like here.”

The words flowed out of you like a stream. You had thought about this a lot in your time here, relaying your musings to the moon.

“That it’s clouded with smog, unbreathable to even traverse outside. Or that it’s always raining, droplets acidic to the skin.”

If you had glanced next to you for even a moment, you would have seen just how captivated the man was by you and your words. As if he had found the most dazzling gemstone buried deep within the ground after hours of digging. But, you continued to study your feet swaying lazily back and forth as you continued,

“But, that’s all nonsense. They’ve never been here before, where the sky is absolutely spotless,” you said, wistfully.

And it was true. Your turned your head up, scanning the moon above. It was simply a regular moon, just like one you’d see in Linkon city. However, being so high up meant there was no obstruction from any other buildings. You could behold its fullness every night, savouring its white glow. It reminded you that there was so much more waiting in the universe for you. Maybe even unexplored places past the Deepspace Tunnel.

You expected some witty reply laced with mystery from your seatmate, but he remained silent. Curiously, you looked over, finding his eyes locked on you.

“Yes, those are simply stories to monger fear.” He sounded almost breathless as he replied.

You blinked at him. Evidently, you had said something that resonated with him. He cleared his throat, shaking off whatever spell had just gripped him.

“And I agree,” he continued, “I believe one can get the most clearest and loveliest views here at night time.”

You noted to yourself that he was certainly not looking at the sky as he said that. His gaze briefly trailed up and down your body. You drew in a breath, praying that your cheeks weren’t flushed as crimson as his eyes. Heat crawled up your face at the smirk on his lips. The man seemed content to reveal that ulterior motive to you quite freely.

Something fluttered towards the two of you, and a crow flew down to the man’s shoulder, cawing loudly. You jumped at the peculiar sight. The man clenched his jaw, seeming to be genuinely irritated by the interruption, but not at all bewildered by the large bird at his shoulder. It turned its head and cocked it to the side, seeming to analyse you.

“Unfortunately, my time here is up,” he sighed, pulling his feet off from the ledge and standing again.

To your surprise, your spirits deflated. There were so many things you wanted to know about this silver-haired man, and you didn’t know when you would meet him next.

“I will see you tomorrow night to continue this conversation,” he added, adjusting the coat around his shoulder.

You cursed internally again. Had it been so plain on your face that you wanted to meet him again? You pursed your lips.

“And what makes you so sure I’ll come back here tomorrow?”

Another laugh erupted from him. He had to restrain himself from commenting on how cute you looked right now.

“Because I’m quite good at reading people,” he instead said.

It was truly a shame he had to leave so soon. This interaction he had carefully crafted had begun so well. The crow cawed again, directly into his ear. Quiet down, I know I have business to attend to, he thought, scratching his finger against its feathered head to pacify the bird.

“Ah I almost forgot.”

You craned your head upwards at him standing beside you. Your expectant, doe eyes nearly convinced him to ignore all his duties and sit back down with you.

He tipped his head down. Greeting you once again, this time with an appropriate introduction.

“You can call me Sylus.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[transformersxreader]

Here is a short animatic of Yandere Sire/Father Sentinel Prime x reader

Where Sentinel is trying to turn/teach (Y/n) into the next prime, but (Y/n) is not sure if their sire is doing the right thing for cybertron.

(Y/n) is getting into trouble for questioning about the matrix and seeing their new found miner friends.

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Gods and Monsters

Yandere Neo x Reader

Random drabble series

Secret Garden

Heavily flawed and diverted concept as compared to the ORIGINAL STORYLINE with shallow imagination and vague concepts I am too lazy to explain or expand upon.

In fact, it has to mean nothing at all, treat it as a wink to Keanuverse characters, a metafiction, or nonsense literature, or even better, find a meaning yourself.

Had to simply get it out of my system, it has been pestering me.

Please enjoy.

Warnings: None (for now)

Credit to the original owner of this GIF. Heavily unedited piece.

Drabble #1

It is beautiful. Witnessing it with your own eyes allows you to have a true sense of its beauty—a vision indeed. The rainbow stretches across the sky, a strip of joy when sunshine and rain collide over the city. This is a common occurrence here. You always knew it, but witnessing it with your bare eyes fills you with pride. Not many stop by to watch the wonder as you do—people are so…busy, almost oblivious to the beauty around them.

Another city, another wonder to experience. In your years travelling throughout the world here, you have been indulging in nostalgia. You make yourself comfortable on a park bench, observing, watching, and passing time with a sandwich until the sun sets. You check your watch. Yet another notification. 

“How long do you plan to stay here?”

You are not surprised that you never heard him coming—you are not the only one who can come and go at whim.

You only shrug.

“It has been years (Y/N).” Neo does not look at you, instead keeping his eyes on the twilight sky.

“Here, yes, but not there.”

“Two days,” He corrects “Almost two days, you lose track of time in the Matrix.” He adds, sighing

“I am in no rush, it’s my twelfth year here.”

“You have locked that room from within.” His voice remains low but lacks the softness present moments before.

“You know that’s not how it works (Y/N).” His calm exterior can fool an all-seeing ‘priestess’, or that’s what they call such people here. 

“I know how it works, Neo. I know you have been watching me the whole time, you have access to everything.”

“Yeah.” He admits after a moment of silence “But could not reach you.”

“That’s why you plugged yourself in?” You look at him. 

The silence is your answer.

“How long do you plan to stay mad at me?”

“I am past the anger, I know it just amuses you.” That might not be completely true. 

The ghost of a smirk makes you tick, but you have far better control over your temper. 

“Good to hear that,” he cleans his tinted eyewear.

“You don’t need that.” You eye it with a tinge of amusement.

Neo turns to meet your gaze—he is not strikingly handsome as many were before him, but he stands out, no wonder it is him who has been chosen. There’s something deep and ancient in him, his calm presence and cool temper. But that doesn't make him any less capable of annihilation. You know what he is capable of, you have witnessed it first-hand.

“Nostalgia.” He smirks before raising from the bench.

Oh, yes, he indeed is in a mood—dressed in the same dark clothes that haunted you for years, while you sit there, in a plain pair of denims and t-shirt.

“I miss you (Y/N).”

“You will live a few days.”

He frowns “Doesn’t feel like it.”

How dramatic.

“Bye.” You dismiss him, turning your focus back to the sandwich.

[jweekgoji]

Hello. Can a Resquest, TFO! Yandere Sentinel prime x Femme cybertronian reader who is his conjux

Yandere!Sentinel Prime/Femme!Reader. (hcs. NSFW!)

haven't done requests for a long time so better do it now until my inspiration is gone haha

tw: spoilers for Transformers One; yandere Sentinel Prime, mentions of punishment, stalking, manipulation, controlling behavior, hints on grooming; NSFW at the end.

Yan!Sentinel has no interest in someone who is bold, bossy or demanding like him. At first, it might amuse him when you put up a fight and show your disrespect to him but it quickly gets boring. Even if, somehow, he chose a darling who liked to fight him, his patience would run thin. He literally killed so many bots just to feel like he's in power. Plus, he's looking for his conjunx, not another bodyguard or a troublemaker. He already had enough of them in Iacon.

Yan!Sentinel has a type. imo his perfect type would be someone young, inexperienced and naive. Sentinel is careful and he wants everything to go the way HE wants...and yandere Sentinel just ×100 this need of being in control. He might pick his conjunx from the low rankings, of course, after looking through thousands of bots' profiles until he finds you, a hardworking little femme who was created not so long ago, probably a big fan of him too! Isn't it perfect?

Yan!Sentinel can go even further and be the one you first see in this world. This way, he could teach you everything you should and should not know. You just can't not to trust him, considering how charming and sweet he is to you.

Yan!Sentinel might have trouble with choosing. Should he let his conjunx keep their t-cog? Should he keep it away? Sentinel really wants his darling to be betterthan other bots because you're his conjunx endura, but at the same time he never thinks of you as his equal. 

It might sound cruel at first, but he does love you, in his own way, of course. He adores you, he takes care of you, and he even makes sure you won't get in trouble, but if you think about it, is it genuine love you get or are you just some sort of pet?

Yan!Sentinel is controlling. When he's busy or not around, leaving you all alone, I believe that he will probably have Airachnid looking after his conjunx. He at least considers her good enough to keep her optics on his personal things, so the big, scary spider lady is 24/7 around you if he tells her to do that.

↑ You might try to talk to her once, when it's only you two alone in Sentinel's berthroom since it's well...a little awkward being in silence, only for her multiple optics to track your every move. What Airachnid knows = what Sentinel knows, so don't try to hide anything from her.

Yan!Sentinel has an ego as big as his TFA variant. don't think he would ever beg for something, but... please send him your pictures or videos! when he's busy on some important, serious mission, still searching for Matrix of Leadership, he really, really needs something to cool off his systems after a one particular stressful meeting! His joints are aching for some reason...

Yan!Sentinel loves giving you punishments. Though, he always keeps them “light”. The old-fashioned spanking, where you're bent over his lap or your chassis against his desk, is his favorite. That's the best way for him to teach you a lesson, though he never finishes up to the number he gives you. At first, he would be “That's just 20 spanks! Come on, don't you want to prove what a good girl you are for me?”and after a minute or two of your sobs and whines, he just pauses in the middle of it, only to pull you on his lap and force you down on his spike. He's not very patient himself. ( ͡°з ͡°)

Yan!Sentinel who just loves keeping his servos around you. Whether it's just around your waist, keeping you next to him, while he talks with some bot, or holding your behind, tightening his hold just so you won't try to pull away from him. Touching is everything for him, mainly because he just has to deal with a lot of stress. You're just cute enough to make him not snap at someone, despite how hard he tries to keep his persona.

Yan!Sentinel doesn't like to beg, but when he needs something, he will find a way for you to do this. It is hard to tell him no. I mean, why would you? You're either stupid or have no spark at all! He might say the most ridiculous things to thousands of bots in front of him, and no one would dare criticize Sentinel because they all love him. That's why you should too.

“What—what is it, love? You don't love me anymore, hm? I didn't do enough for you?” Sentinel muses, his optics focused on your face, feigning innocence. “Well, that's a shame. I guess I'm not worthy of you.”

Guilt keeps eating you from the inside. Guilty, guilty, guilty bot you are. So ungrateful. But you can't help but think how ridiculous it sounds. Guilty of what? For having your own boundaries? For telling him no for once? You don't really want that, but still...he works so hard for you, for both of you and all of Iacon. What he wants from you is easy, isn't it? That's not so hard. If you just lean back against his chassis, optics lowered to the ground, you eventually might feel less shame for trying to tell him no at first. A satisfied smile plastered on his face, that works so well every single time it's getting funny.

You sigh softly, letting his servo wander between your thighs. It's difficult not to writhe and whine on top of his lap when he finally pushes his fingers inside you, stretching you with just two digits. Your optics flickering up at him in hopes of meeting his blue ones, just to ask a little more, more attention, please—sssh! Not when he's busy with a big bot job. Just keep your voice down, you don't want to interrupt him, right? If you keep staying like this, he might finish faster with all his plans to give you what you need. 🤫

Yan!Sentinel enjoys it when you depend on him. He basically changed your entire life and is the only one who's protecting you from big bad quintessons, while you can rest in your shared berthroom, not a single thought in your innocent processor! That's why he knows that you might get a little lonely without him. After all, why wouldn't you? When he pleases you so, so well, you just can't help but want more. Greedy you! Can't wait a day without him? Sigh. Your conjunx is kind enough to soothe your needs. He definitely left some “toys” for you, made in blue-and-golden colors...what a coincidence!

↑ With how much of an icon he is in the city, there's a big variety of merch made of him.

[fernpetals]

After Life: The Present

Masterlist

Yandere Neo Anderson Headcanons

Part I Part III

Based on this idea

Warning: Stalking, unreliable perception and grasp of reality, NSFW, dub-con, power imbalance, manipulative, creepy and slightly delusional behaviour, major canon diversions and my miserable attempt at making this work. Inspired by a post about dark Neo by @97keanu and some late-night discussions with my mutuals (wink)

Unedited Piece

You are dreaming. It is the same dream, the same man, over and over again. You dream of sitting inside a cafe you have never been to, and waiting. Who are you waiting for?

You don’t know. 

It is the same damn cafe, always evening. At times, a faceless man shows up. Flowers in hand, carnations. But you never quite recognise him.

It has been a year since you have been having these ‘dreams’. At this point, you want to visit the cafe. But something in you is afraid. Afraid of what? You do not know.

You just feel…different. As if something is missing. You want to reach out, but it is like a veil has been put over your mind. You are brushing against memories that do not exist, but you feel them.

It’s like you are losing your mind. 

Had it been just the dreams, you would have managed. But you randomly wake up in the middle of the night to an empty and dark room, as expected. But the air feels…charged. You feel every single hair on your body stand up, and the static. 

You look around like you are expecting to see something or someone. But there is no physical evidence of an intruder. Never. You just feel it in your bones.

—---

“What if they track your pattern? You are endangering yourself and her.”  Morpheus’s voice is hushed on the phone.

“They can’t reach me, or trace me, I made sure of that.” Neo’s voice is soft and quiet, lower than usual. He does not want to wake you.

As Thomas Anderson, he longed to be in the position that he is now. In your room, watching over you as you sleep.

Neo does not take off his eyewear, though. It helps him keep the codes in check. He is in control of this matrix now; the agents simply do not know it yet. They never will, until he hunts down every last one of them. 

For now, he is content to play a subtle game with you. He wants you to revisit the cafe. He wants you to remember him. But some systems are permanent here. Like a necessary evil. 

Every person who consumes the red pill is automatically removed from the memories of the Matrix, and the people trapped here. So, according to the Matrix, Thomas Anderson never existed. No one remembers him, and there are no traces left of him. Digital, physical, nothing.

It works to keep the world from descending into chaos and madness, but also aids in keeping people from sensing that something is wrong with this world.

He retreats into the corner, waving his palm and turning invisible to those bound to the Matrix when he senses you beginning to wake up. 

Like every night, he watches you wake, looking around, as if expecting to see someone. He knows you can sense him, and it only turns him more determined. You can sense him, while no other human can. Your connection to him runs deeper. It was always meant to be.

There’s a slight heaviness he feels when you frantically look around, confused, unable to express what you feel, unable to put a pin on it. But you feel him. Somewhere deep inside your subconscious, you know it's him. It knows him

—--

You are standing in front of the cafe again. You have walked into this path many times, without even noticing. But something in you never lets you step inside. The space seems inviting and warm. So why do you hesitate?

Fuck it, I’m going in.

With that, you take a deep breath and walk—

You frown, realising that the lights seem suddenly brighter, as if it's night time already. You look around, only for your lips to part at the view outside. 

You walked in moments ago with the sun high up in the sky. But from the cafe, you can see the nightlife. The street lights are lit up, the buildings are all bright, the sky is dark, and there are rumbles along with flashes in the sky. 

How is this…

You look around, realising that you are the only person bothered by this strange phenomenon.

Your gaze zeroes in on a corner table with a bouquet placed on it. Without another thought, you walk towards it and pick up the bouquet. Carnations. Fresh, fragrant, beautiful blooms invite you to run your fingers through them. The bouquet from your dreams. Only the mystery man is missing.

You pick it up and find a little card taped to it. ‘To (Y/N)’ it reads when you unfold it. You turn to look to see if anyone is there, waiting for you. But somehow, you feel like you are the one waiting. For what? Whom?

Your eyes stop at the view outside. With the thunder rumbling and the wind picking up speed,  the streets seem calmer. But one man is standing right underneath a street light. You take a step forward for a closer look. Despite the good distance, somehow, you just know he’s looking straight at you. 

He is dressed in black. The hem of his coat moves and flows in stagnant waves as the wind picks up. He stands still, though. A part of black eyewear, hair brushed back, and broad shoulders straightened with a calm sense of foreboding and self-assurance. 

You rush outside the cafe, the bouquet still in your grasp, only to stumble back at the feeling of sunlight as soon as you are outside. You look up and immediately shut your eyes under the unforgiving glare of the summer sun. When you turn to see that streetlight again, you find no one.   

You drink yourself to sleep at night. Unable to come to terms with the events at the cafe. Yet the bouquet sits in your guestroom vase. Something in you could not leave it behind. Your eyes keep drifting towards the door before they feel too heavy to keep open. As if you are expecting someone to walk in. Who? 

At the cafe, you have felt longing like never before. Deja Vu. That is the only explanation you have for what clouded your heart and mind in that cafe. The rest…the day, the night, that…that man. You have no idea what it was. Were you hallucinating? Was it all in your mind? Who was that man? Who left the bouquet?

Whatever you have experienced was real– the bouquet sitting in your living room is the evidence. But it has unsettled you to the core. You cannot look at the world the same way again. It has been like a jolt to you. Like you had been asleep for a long, long time and are about to wake up. 

Tonight, your dreams manifest out of nowhere. You see yourself back in your office. But you are not working. You are in your cubicle, and the place feels eerily quiet, except for the whimpers and moans that escape your lips. 

Fingers. Moving in a deliberate pattern inside you. You see the side of his neck, the white collar of his shirt that has a tinge of green. A very faint, but not just his shirt, everything around you seems to have a shadow of green cast over it. The world is the same as the world you live in, but it does not feel real. 

Yet, his fingers moving inside you, producing that squelching noise that seems to grow embarrassingly louder with each moment, are what ground you. They feel real, this man feels. 

You want to look up at him. You can smell him, feel the heat of his body against yours, you feel him standing between your thighs, your skirt hiked up, and his fingers inside your ruined panties, but you only have a zoomed-in view of his face. 

Your cheeks pressed against his. You nose inhaling his scent before you feel his other hand bunch up your hair and pull your head, and meet his eager lips.

Your eyes flutter close, and at the same time, he curls his fingers one last time before you burst into a million sparks of ecstasy. You whine and rub your hips against his moving fingers, feeling conquered in the way his tongue caresses yours and the top of your mouth like he is contemplating something life-altering.

You gasp awake with the sight of the ceiling of your bedroom greeting you. Your hands are on your sides, fisting the ruffled bedsheet but you catch your breath. Your tongue has a lingering taste like no other, your lips are covered with saliva, and your womanhood throbs deliciously. You feel empty, and the warmth and slickness between your thighs do not help. 

You look down to find your underwear messily shoved down enough to make space for fingers to be inside. It is ruined anyway. A heady scent hangs in the air as you look at your fingers. Did you just touch yourself in your sleep? Your fingers seem dry and smell nothing of the musk you anticipate when you bring them to your nose. 

No, no trace of what you expect, but…but something else. A smell you know you have never smelled before, yet feels somehow familiar. You sigh, feeling a headache catching up. You have no energy to get up. You feel heavy and exhausted after experiencing pleasure like never before.

Taking off your underwear, you toss it away and fall back on the bed. Sleep, surprisingly, comes easily.

—-

It takes everything in Neo not to pick up the discarded underwear that has landed right in front of him. He stares down at it instead, the damp cotton tests his self-control. His throat dies, but he forces himself to tear his gaze away from the piece of cloth towards the bed.

His jaws clench when he is greeted by the most delicious sight imaginable. Nothing covers your lower half. Your soft thighs, legs messily tangled with the sheet and bare mound, are all for his sight— a low burning of his desire now shooting into dangerous flames licking at his sanity.

 But he remains still, silently breathing in the scent of the room now heavy with the scent of your arousal while his eyes take in your form.

Parched. He is parched and empty without you. For now, though, he is satisfied with only licking his fingers slick with your essence.

—--

You do not understand what exactly is wrong with you. But maybe everything. You have dreams every other day. They manifest from all the nasty scenarios you had written in your digital diary. You type away your experiences, thoughts and often sensual imagination on your computer almost daily.  

You conclude that you must be stressed. The strange encounter at the cafe has left you rattled. So your mind has come up with a way of relief, although temporary.

The only difference is the presence of this…mysterious, faceless man. You can feel him, smell him, even address him, but never see his face. Part of him. But never his full face, nothing to visually recognise him. You simply know it's him.

It is one of your dreams again. This time, it is a tinted glass wall, high up in a skyscraper, where the world below seems like an ant kingdom. You feel the cool glass and the golden sunset. Your breath condenses against the glass with each huff.

It is a dream. You have come to realise every time this happens. It is a dream, but this time it is different. You have never written or imagined such a scenario.

But sounds of pleasure escape your throat nevertheless. You feel fingers slide across your neck, holding you still as your hips rock with his, the sensual rhythm and the delicious fullness of having him inside you elicit a breathy chuckle from you.

It is him. You know the touch, the cologne, the way he feels and the warmth he provides.

That's when you see it--the reflection on the glass, and your smile drops. This man behind you, pressing your naked body against the glass, smells and feels familiar, but is not the same you have dreamt about for so long. But it is the man you saw right outside the cafe that day. 

The man with black eyewear, all dressed in black, hair brushed back and an air of authority that seems to command the room he walks into. 

You gasp and try to move, but he keeps you pinned, still thrusting in and out of you, drawling out pleasure that keeps holding your rational mind hostage.

Your hands, once on the glass, come to hold or push him, desperate to turn around, yet too deep in pleasure to stop your movements or the spasming against his length.

“Wh–who—” is all you can manage.

“You know me.” His voice somehow sounds deeper, unfamiliar, despite it being the same voice you have heard in your dreams many times before. “You have to ask yourself.” 

You feel his lips against your ear before his teeth clamp lightly over them, and you jolt forward. Your walls flutter uncontrollably, and you feel the slickness rolling down your thighs as he continues to thrust inside you. The flood of warmth makes your eyes roll back while a guttural moan escapes your throat. You gasp, claw and mewl, crying out in pleasure.

You are lit up in flames of desire– in this moment, you feel him filling inside you— filling your veins, mind and soul.

You open your eyes once more, damp lashes blink at the man pinning you against the glass, lazily thrusting to drag out the pleasure, before you are snuffed out of your dream world.

You wake up, glistening with sweat, and a sweet ache and emptiness between your legs. You hear the wetness and feel it. Thick and sticky, yet your mind is muddled enough to think it's only your own arousal. You fall into a dreamless sleep as soon as you wake up.

This time, you dream of a hazy figure in black, hovering over your bed, running his fingers through your hair.

—-

“Soon, I would need a red pill,” Neo says to Morpheus on the phone. He is one with the bustling market crowd, but his eyes never stray from your figure. 

Your shoulders appear slumped, and your eyes are downcast. You are visibly exhausted, yet you carry on. Soon, you will be free from these meaningless burdens. Then, you can focus your energy on what truly matters, your relationship with him.

“What are you planning, Neo?” Morpheus’ voice turns slightly distorted other end “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the Matrixes that are not yet under our control?”

“She is important to me. Start preparing my apartment.”

—-

You think you are going crazy. But there is no proper sign of madness yet. Only you see that man everywhere. He is never right in front of you. No. You see glimpses of him. Like a shadow, you feel him everywhere you go, and see him from the corner of your eyes. But he disappears when you turn. 

It becomes a regular occurrence, and you think you are slowly spiralling into insanity. But all the other aspects of your life remain undisturbed. You only see this mysterious man dressed in black from the corner of your eye

It started with the tail of his coat, the flowing fabric of a dramatic and rushed exit. You ignored it as any rational person would. But then, it turned to seeing the silhouette of a full-grown man from the corner of your eyes. 

Every day, you feel him closer. You see a little more of him, like his pale skin, the dark eyewear and dark hair.

He just feels unreal. But he is very much real–you know it in your bones.

Every time you wake up at odd hours, you somehow expect the man looming over your bed. But you find no one. Nothing seems out of place, but your home does not feel the same. The air has shifted. 

You cannot explain how, but it feels like you are no longer the only resident here. The door you remember closing turns out to be open, the windows you forgot to close before leaving are closed shut when you return, and there is this…smell.

Leather and fuel, along with hints of earthy fragrance. You have tried bringing your friends for a sleepover to see if they feel the same. But none of them seem to notice.

At this point, you are afraid to confide in any friend. What if they think that you are losing your mind? What if you really are losing it?

Your dreams become more vivid. The touches fell more profound. Not like they weren’t before. But you see more of him. And the more you see him in your dreams, the more you realise that the man in your dreams is eerily similar to the man you see from the corner of your eyes.

It must have been apparent that you're disturbed about something, at least to your friends at work. So they drag you for a fun Friday Night. 

It turns out to be actually fun. You get to drink, eat, laugh and let loose a little. You find yourself on the dance floor, but no one is close enough. Yet you feel the static energy buzzing around. You are sober enough to feel the shift, but not enough to be truly alarmed. 

You remain where you are, feeling suddenly braver. There is a buzzing need to ground yourself. You tell yourself that it will all go away once you face it head-on, whatever, or whoever he or it is.

But all thoughts evaporate when you feel the warmth of a palm over your swaying hips. The familiar touch jolts you awake from the haze. This time, it is different. This time, you are not in your bedroom; you are not asleep. You are awake, and you are at a nightclub. You are awake and among people, and yet you feel the familiar touch and the presence.

You feel his lips over your ears, his body pressing against yours. You smell him—leather and fuel. “Trying to run away from the truth?” You stiffen, yet your eyes flutter close in surrender.

“Thomas?” You do not know why you say that name, but it flashes in your mind, and your tongue rolls on its own. 

Thomas? Who is Thomas?

You want to turn around, but he holds you firmly against him. Unlike the wild pace your heart has taken, you only feel his steady heartbeat. His lips brush against your ear with a deliberate movement. “My name…Is Neo.”

“Neo…” His name tastes like enchantment, and perhaps, you are already enchanted. You must have been too drunk, or simply lost any remaining sense of self-preservation, as you lean against him, testing his name on your tongue again. 

So this is the man who haunts your dreams and infests your reality? Is he the final push to your descent into madness?

He takes your hand and leads you away from the crowd, towards the bar, where a man dressed similarly to him serves drinks to the patrons. 

It's like you are in a daze— you let him lead you towards it. Maybe it is due to the joint you smoked with friends earlier? The lingering effects perhaps take away any sense of self-preservation. 

He takes off his dark eyewear, and you get to look into his deep, calm orbs. He exudes an extraordinary sense of calm and authority, like you can hide nothing from him, like even if you choose to break into a sprint, it would be futile.

“Drink”, he offers you the red drink. Your hands reach out for it, even though your mind screams for you to stop. You pause and look at him. One nod of encouragement is all it takes for you to tune out every warning your mind throws at you.

 It’s like you are devoid of any thought or free will. Your movements feel strange, drawn-out, unlike you. But you have no control over your own body. You take a sip. Despite the caution and confusion, the beverage tastes better than anything you have ever had. 

“What do you remember about Thomas?” 

You frown at the question, gazing at him while you take another sip of the irresistible drink.

“I…I don't know. It just slipped out.” You seriously have no idea. It was out of the blue. 

“You aren't supposed to remember, but something in you does. This is a sign.”

“Wh-what sign?” You take a final gulp, finishing the drink while he tugs you towards the exit of the club. 

You suddenly feel it, something solid and tiny passing down your throat along with the drink “Wh–what was that?” You finally feel like you are in control again and try to pull your hands away.

But his grip is iron as he drags you towards an isolated exit of the club. When he opens the door, you expect stairs, but are bewildered to find your living room.

“That, and this…” He turns to you, shutting the door, “... it's all a lie, a prison. I am saving you.”

He finally lets go, but you do not answer him, you are in no state to. Instead, you rush towards your apartment door, still in shock. Throwing it open, you find the common corridor you are familiar with.

“No...this can’t be.”

“She is not ready, Sir.” The other man states.

“She will be.” You vaguely hear him through your laboured breathing as you see thin lines of numbers appearing all around you. The colour green has never been more sickening.

“N–no…no. What’s happening?” You gasp out, feeling piercing chills all over, “I’m cold!” It’s like you are losing your voice, it comes in gasps and muffled “I’m cold!”

You try to scream, but you cannot. Your legs can no longer hold your weight, but ‘Neo’ wraps his arms around you.

He is warm, you vaguely realise, feeling the green almost blinding you. But you are still cold.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

DING DING hcs! one Tf one Yandere! Sentinel with prime! Darling, please

Or Yandere!Starscream and prime!reader where it's kinda like Pearl-Pinkdiamond relationship

You decide😋

Aaand why not both? ψ(｀∇´)ψ Oooh, this is good food!

(TFO) Yandere!Sentinel Prime & Yandere!Starscream x Prime!Reader (HCs)

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour. Reader is cybertronian, a Prime and gender neutral. Use of (Y/N). Sentinel Prime's part happens before his betrayal. Starscream and Reader's relationship is Pearl-Pink Diamond's type. Mutual feelings hinted (Starscream's) 14 Primes in total, not 13.

You were the 14th Prime. And, in Sentinel's optics, the sole perfect Prime out of the whole group.

Beautiful, unique, divine, a precious star walking among wanna-be's (The other 13th Primes) and unworthy bots (the others, minus him).

Whatever you needed, he was there to meet your expectations and serve you.

You were the first Prime to welcome him when he got his position as the Prime's chief advisor - and Sentinel remembers every little detail about that day. Your soft optics and gentle smile, your angelic voice and your servo extended to greet him. Oh! How embarrassing! He had stood there like a fool, staring up at you in awe, unable to speak withou stuttering and you noticed it! And yet... that soft chuckle of yours was sincere, there was no mocking nor rejection.

Sentinel is a possessive yandere, but always forced himself to not act (at first) on his possessive behaviour.

But, Primus, he was being tested everyday - he hated to see you with the other Primes. He hated seeing you laugh with them, work alongside them, share little inside jokes or any type of physical contact: servo holding? Helm snuggling? Just standing by the side of any of them? Sentinel felt this need to end it all so he could keep your attention only on him.

He always gave you his most sincere, bright smiles, always at your call and ready for anything! He wanted your praise, your attention, your optics to be on him and thank him for anything he did. He would make sure your time wasn't wasted on any idiot (even though you mentioned you didn't mind a small chat with the guards or any other bot).

"At your service, my dear (Y/N) Prime!"

If only the others could just... disappear.

You would be happier by having only Sentinel by your side,

And he would treat you as the royalty you were! (You never considered yourself to be above others, you were doing just your job at keeping others safe - how humble of you! Of course you were above everybody else! In Sentinel's optics, of course).

When the war against the Quintessons started, Sentinel would constantly have paranoid episodes when you were out on a mission with the other Primes.

What if you didn't come back? What if something happened to you? If you got hurt? Worse, offlined? No. No. Nononono.

Sentinel needed to protect you.

The other Primes weren't worthy of that title.

They were self-centered, too demanding and all they could do was give boring speeches and not win a war to ensure YOUR safety (The others didn't matter. No one mattered. Just you).

Sentinel stares down at the message he was going to send the Quintessons to complete the ambush plan - they had already accepted the deal he had made with them to destroy the other Primes and give them all the energon they want.

The Quintessons have given their word on not hurting you, only knock you out and take you so Sentinel could end the other Primes and take the Matrix.

He would become the Prime his people needed. The Prime you needed. And with the Quintessons alliance with him, you'd live a life of luxury! (Oh, poor fool.)

His manipulative traits would come after making sure you could not fight him back or leave. After all, you would be mourning the death of the other Primes (you shouldn't, it's a waste of time, but - oh well.), you'd need someone to hold you dearly. Don't worry, Sentinel will be there for you.

"My dear (Y/N) Prime... our world will be beautiful, just the two of us, above the others. Together."

Starscream held his loyalty and respect to all the Primes, they were the leaders of Cybertron after all!

And deep down, Starscream feels a little bit guilty about liking you more than the other Primes.

Another possessive yandere, his territorial traits already showing with how he always acted as your guard dog.

Unlike Sentinel, Starscream never felt jealousy or envy about the other Primes being close to you.

He cherished every little moment he got to be by your side, guarding for your safety and loving every little thing you did: Speak with the other Primes, work hard, support others.

And to fight by your side against the Quintessons was such a honour.

He would always keep an optic on you to make sure your life wasn't at risk (more than it was already) - he would give his life for yours if it meant to keep you safe and give you another chance at living another day.

Just as anon said - Starscream's relationship with a Reader Prime would be a Pearl - Pink Diamond (Steven Universe) type of relationship.

Everything he does it's for you! Starscream gives his 100% for you!

And when he stares up at you, his optics hold such a passionate yet tender love towards you, as if you had hung the stars in the sky or made the suns shine brightly.

Just imagine if one day you showed your gratitude at Starscream's hard working by gently caressing his helm. The seeker is quick to freeze in place, his whole frame tensing as his spark beats loudly against his chestplate.

"Ah - I apologize, Starscream. I didn't think before acting-"

"Please." He interrupts you, not caring how unprofessional he views himself by doing this or if he is breaking any rule. "Do it again, please."

Everyday after all, any little physical affection you give to him, he yearns for more. And he can't help but feel his spark swell. Of course, this would only happen whenever you two are all alone and Starscream awaits patiently for you to invite him to come closer to hold his servo or gently snuggle your helm against his. You thank him for his hard work, for his loyalty, for keeping others safe and train them to be better, for helping the other Primes.

Ah, Starscream feels he should be the one to thank you - for everything you do, for giving his life a purporse and a reason to exist.

When he is completely alone with his own thoughts, reflecting on everything, about you and him (and how he keeps making sure other guards keep their relationship with you purely professional, not feeling that guilty about being hypocritical)... he closed his optics and holds his servo close to his chestplate.

"Please, Primus... allow us to win the war against the Quintessons, for the Primes... for (Y/N) Prime to live another day to see Cybertron full of life, for me to see that Cybertron by their side."

Forever yours, his sparks belongs to you.

Starscream wishes to forever be your seeker that will follow you till the end of the line and in the next life.

Hehehe (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Vhaos Out!

[valentinxd]

random ideas in my head that I can’t get out and may write.

John Wick being a mechanic and he’s wearing that stupid full body mechanic suit and he’s got you on a work bench pretending to work on you but it’s all smut.

Neo with a female reader who is a cyborg he built and he gave you the ability to touch. More wholesome like you two are just adorable little idiots.

Being John and Helen’s maid but like - they have a thing for you. Hiring you to clean but then slowly spoiling you and then finally just having you move in and straight to the bedroom.

Trying to build a crib with Jack but you both keep fucking it up and struggle with each little piece. Struggling to read the instructions, struggling to find the right pieces and putting things on backwards

Smoking a cigarette on a rooftop with a teenage John Constantine listening to rock music after his death attempt. Sitting in silence in the dark with only the street light on, the crickets are the only sound and he’s wearing a jean jacket hiding his arms and all you can do is hold his hand which refuses to let go because out of everyone in this world he’s scard of losing is you.

Being Donaka Mark’s first love and taking care of him after he gets into his first fight. One of the many boyfriends his absent mother has decided to put him in his place and he stumbles into your apartment holding him, bandagaing his wounds and pressing small kisses to his bruised face and seeing something inside him change and you fear you can’t get him back.

Yandere Neo and Trinity both altering your life in the Matrix because they both become obsessed with you and so they decide to make it worse to “save you.” Little things get worse in your life, you lose your job, things break, your partners start off sweet but become worse, and why do you keep seeing two people in the corner of your room at night? Your just dreaming right?

[wishful-thinking-is-dumb]

I write for:

- The Marvel Universe (The Avengers, X-Men, The Spiderverse, etc..)

- DC Comics (All related movies and TV shows)

- Star Wars (The Original Trilogy, Clone Wars, Rebels, and the rest of related movies and TV shows)

- The Legend of Zelda (Breath of the Wild, Tears of the Kingdom, Twilight Princess, and Ocarina of Time)

- Anything with Keanu Reeves <33 (John Wick, The Matrix, etc..)

- The Walking Dead (only the TV show)

CoD (Modern Warfare 1 and 2)

- Invincible (2020)

[matrixworship]

Beloved is at a friend’s house. I need her to answer my text.

[skmhlml]

I have a request for yandere Beast cookies with an underbaked reader

I imagine underbaked cookies to have less energy and sleep for a couple of days at a time and always have one part be crumbled (examples an arm, leg or part of the fact) and seen as abomination of nature to other cookies

Can it have NSFW too if possible please

Beast cookies x underbaked!Reader

Date Requested: 6/18/2025

Warning:

Burning Spice Cookie (Male x F!Reader)

🔥 He finds the smell of your burnt dough and sugar intoxicating. Most recoil—he breathes you in like smoke.

🔥 Treats your fragile limbs like porcelain. If your arm crumbles in front of him, he scoops you up like glass. “Who did this to you?” he growls—he will burn a kingdom down if someone bumped into you.

🔥 His heat hits hard around you. You collapse in your bed for days at a time, and he just lays there beside you, rutting into your warm body, whispering filth into your ear as you drift in and out of consciousness.

🔥 “Even when you’re half-dead, I’ll take you. Cracked and crumbling— I’ll fill every inch of you until there’s nothing left but me inside.”

🔥 He likes grabbing your broken parts, especially your thighs if they’re chipped or cracked. The contrast between your weakness and his fire drives him wild.

Shadow Milk Cookie (Male x F!Reader)

🧿 Creepy and silent. He appears when you sleep the most—when you’re paralyzed in one of your multi-day naps. You wake up to your broken limbs patched… but not by magic. By him.

🧿 He stitches your crumbled bits together with some twisted fusion of shadow and corrupted milk. You’re becoming his.

🧿 Likes to fuck you while you’re drowsy or half-awake. He adores your dazed expression, the way your lips barely move when he kisses them.

🧿 Breeding kink. Wants to “fix” you from the inside. “Let me fill the parts of you that fall apart,” he whispers, pushing deeper, his shadowy claws curled around your wrists.

🧿 Obsessed with your scent—he’ll keep your crumbled pieces in a pouch. Don’t ask what he does with them.

Mystic Flour Cookie (Female x M!Reader)

🥠 She adores your “abomination” status. Calls you a rare relic, a beautiful error in the baking matrix.

🥠 Wraps you in gauze, praises the way you tremble. She believes your weakness is divine. “You are mine, and you will crumble only for me.”

🥠 Her heat is slow, burning, obsessive. She’ll tie you down with silk threads spun from her hair and ride you until you’re trembling, your body too weak to fight the overstimulation.

🥠 She likes licking your broken parts, whispering about how even your decay is edible, sensual, perfect.

🥠 Will let you sleep—but only if she gets to wrap herself around you like a vine. “When you sleep, I taste your soul. When you wake, I’ll make your body mine again.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie (Female x M!Reader)

🩷 Sweet voice, twisted thoughts. She acts like you’re her beloved patient, too delicate for the world. She’s your caretaker, your nurse, your lover, your goddess.

🩷 Won’t let you out of bed. Tucks you in and spoon-feeds you sugar water. “You’ll shatter if you move. Don’t move, sweetheart.”

🩷 Her heat turns syrupy. She slowly lowers herself onto you while you’re feverish, whispering sugar-sweet nothings as your broken body shakes beneath her.

🩷 Gets off on how helpless you are. Will make you cum even when you’re too tired to speak. “Just nod for me… that’s right, baby. You don’t need words.”

🩷 She keeps your crumbs in glass jars, labeled by day and scent. She kisses them before bed.

Silent Salt Cookie (Male x F!Reader)

🧂Silent, rough, and scary possessive. You once crumbled at his feet and he didn’t speak—he just lifted you up and walked away with you in his arms.

🧂 Everyone else sees you as a mistake. He sees you as a sacrifice. And he’s your only priest.

🧂He’s the most feral. Likes to take you during your collapse cycles—when you can’t resist, only gasp as he pushes into you again and again. He growls low, practically snarling into your neck.

🧂 Has a thing for marking your wounds. Leaves bruises, bite marks over your crumbled areas, claiming what’s his. “You’re ruined? Then let me ruin you.”

🧂He doesn’t just want to keep you—he wants to break you further. Only he can rebuild y