#yandere x female reader
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Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read
***
Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.
You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.
Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.
Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.
Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.
College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".
Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.
Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.
But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.
So what's a good way to relieve tension?
Some good ol' fleshlight.
The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.
It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.
***
You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.
You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.
You're scared.
The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.
What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?
Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.
***
Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.
He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.
He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.
Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.
***
You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.
Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.
But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.
Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.
No way...
Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.
This can't be happening.
You felt the thick thing stretch you open.
***
Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.
With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.
He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.
But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.
He sheath inside in one thrust.
Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?
Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.
His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.
He wonder if he can break the toy.
***
With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.
Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.
Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?
Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.
And it snaps.
Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.
Ah. You never felt this... good before.
It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.
You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.
... you wonder what it was.
***
After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.
He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.
You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.
"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.
"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.
His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.
"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"
You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."
***
You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.
You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...
But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...
Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.
You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.
No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.
You need help. Badly.
You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.
***
"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.
You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."
He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."
Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.
He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.
By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.
You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.
Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.
***
He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.
Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?
He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.
"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.
You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."
He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.
"O-ok... I trust you."
Dumb little girl.
You shouldn't have said that.
Now you've sealed your fate.
***
He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.
He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.
Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.
He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?
He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.
An onahole...
If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,
He's not that picky too.
This'll do for him.
A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.
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ch.4: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)
directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four
read until the end for an author's note.
tw: self-esteem issues, alcohol abuse, allusions to self-harm.
"baby bird, i know i haven't been talking to you much as of lately. but i just want to let you know that we miss you alright?"
not delivered.
"i really regret ignoring you, we all do. i'm-"
he hesitates, then deletes the last word of his message.
"—we're the ones in the wrong for everything, alright? you blocked me, i'm sure you did for everyone else too, i get that, but we care for you now and that won't change anytime soon. please remember that."
not delivered.
"and it pains me seeing that you're not replying to my messages at all, baby bird. but i promise i'll-"
dick bites his lips at the mistake of addressing himself only rather than that of the family, but a greedy part of him wants you to read the messages and to see only him in spite of everything rather than them, feeling a sense of... need to be the first and only one you see when you think about accepting their apologies, even if he's writing to you whilst simultaneously trying to get his family in your good graces.
dick doesn't know it. why he's suddenly obsessed with you. you? yes you, his stupidly precious sibling, the one who looked up to him, frail and wronged by the world, with so much drive behind that stare. third child of bruce, yet second youngest in the family. the one that got away, the one he has never once saw outside that one memory of glinting, awe-inspired eyes that told more stories than poets, drew more emotions than artists.
nobody saw you outside of your status as the manor's ghost— but compared to your other siblings, he knew you the most. he wants to be the only man good enough to be considered your brother, your oldest brother; an obligation he's willing to uptake just for you. he wants to be the only one with the authority to call you his baby bird. he doesn't know why, despite the thirteen and a half years, it's him wanting, no, needing to see you again.
you, just you.
every bits and pieces of you.
in his mind, it's just him and you. in your tiny little bedroom, with your dozens of sketchbooks and diaries, with only your brother, dick, to accompany you. in your own little world, as you speak to him of your dreams and passions with nothing else in your mind. you'd look up at him with sparkling eyes, look at him like he means everything in the world to you, and he'd see you as his world.
when he thinks of that, the more he hopes of the possibility of you reading his messages; his declaration of never leaving you alone anymore. and with hope comes along this dread that you'd reply with a nasty reply, or that... you'll never bat an eye him anymore.
dick doesn't take a second glance to correct his mistake again this time.
"i promise i'll be better for you baby bird. my little hatchling, my little one. i discarded you, someone so precious. you must've felt hurt, no? i get that, i'm so sorry you have to go through that because of me. but look! you have me now, we have each other now! and that might not be enough yet to mend the bridge i left to fall, but if you just, please reply to me, or anyone else, then we can fix this. i promise, baby bird."
not delivered.
"you won't ever feel hurt anymore, or sad or lonely. hell, even bruce is getting you a new bedroom fixed up, isn't that great!? i'll even convince the old man to make sure your room is close to my old one so you can visit me anytime. i'll even stay over at gotham for even longer, just for you! and i'll spend my time with you, with just the two of us, okay? nobody else can disturb us. i'm sure you'd like that too."
not delivered.
"and we can hang out anytime you want, no? sleepovers, movie nights, journalling— all the cool stuff you wanted to do with me in the past, we can do now! and it'll be fun with you, i can see it happening alrrady, i just know it. you can't convince me otherwise, baby bird."
not delivered.
"that's why i'm begging you to unblock me, little one, or to at least read all my previous messages, please? :( i'm still so sorry over how i treated you in the past. i've nothing to defend myself over how i acted towards you. i was so delusional, ignoring you when all you clearly wanted was to spend time with me, with the family."
not delivered.
"we can even have that dinner together, remember?! at that fancy restaurant you talked about, yeah? my treat, of course. you can order the entire damn menu and i'll leave you room for seconds and desserts. i can even make arrangements to get bruce to rent out the entire restaurant so it would just be the two of us plus the family, but mostly just us— that would be good! then you can sleep at my room after we get home to the manor since we're turning your old one into an atelier just for you! i'll even carry your cute little figure up any flight of stairs whenever you get tired."
not delivered.
"i promise i'll really make it up to you baby bird!!! <3"
not delivered.
"for all the times we neglected you, left you thinking you didn't deserve a spot in the manor (which you truly do, it's us to blame for never seeing it that way), made you feel negative emotions towards us— i'll take your pain and turn that into joy, i promise."
not delivered.
"and if you do manage to read through all this, please remember..."
not delivered.
"i love you so much, alright? we'll find you soon, and you'll be happier with us, i'm sure of it. i love, love, love you so much my baby bird."
not delivered.
he sighs, resigning his thoughts all to himself as he checks his phone every minute for a simple ring of notifications just from you. he prefers to leave his phone in silent mode from the multitude of other contacts bothering him, but god forbade if that means he'd scroll past to a single reply of yours, then he'd rather burn in hell.
and anything is better than the pain inflicted on him when it comes to the thought of you ignoring him.
because after all, he does mean it when he says he loves you, his baby bird, his adorable little sibling.
he'd rather hell than you seeing him any less of an older brother.
what takes longer? is it a seed growing into a bud, a bud into a bloom, or a flower to fully shrivel and die?
how long does it take for it to be considered worthy? deserving of attention and the rightful spotlight to attain its needs for life?
what takes its time? what other variable does it need for it to survive in such harsh conditions? if it's forcefully pried open as a seedling, as a bud growing in a field full of weeds sapping, draining it of its nutrition, or in a scorching, desolate desert, or pestilent lands; would it still be considered a flower?
what does a seed need to grow into a flower? beautiful, treasured, with vibrant colors reflecting off the surface of each petal, growing pollen for every pollinator to spread its bountiful success you call development?
what does it require?
everyone knows the answer, some could only be ignorant enough to turn the other way and reject the idea altogether.
it needs care, nourishment — healthy soil building a strong foundation, its home with roots carefully embedded in the ground, then it also requires water, a source of life given to it in specific times with just the right dose, and sunlight kissing its stems and petals warmly — and finally, love.
lots of love, attention, and patience from mother nature herself and its caretakers we call humans.
but how could a flower receive any, if not, all it needs, if it's raised under a marshy, overgrowth rainforest that speaks of death and cruel poachers that could step on the bloom of any moment?
how could a flower live, let alone survive, if its careless caretakers who took it away from its fertile lands neglect it of its requirements to grow and bloom into its rightful imagery?
just how?
you are a flower.
and you will wilt soon the longer you live in what you once thought was your home.
growing in cracked, dry soil, with no water nor sunlight aiding your growth.
you are a flower.
who had been loved by your creator, mother nature herself; your mother. but you've never once felt the care nor love of your cruel humans you call family, your father had never once saw your budding petals, kissed it, patiently watered or spent time outside in the sunlight with you. your brothers don't notice your dehydrated pets, shriveled leaves and bent stems, nor do they tend to it. your sisters don't decorate the pot you reside it, they don't talk to you every time you sag down in loneliness and isolation as you are forced to stay in the same place and witness the same scenarios over and over again.
not much knows it, but flowers, much like any plant, can communicate, they can feel. and when they do, they do deeply.
and you are a flower. a flower worthy of being pressed into books, storing your beauty forever. a flower worthy of being situated into a stunning arrangements of bouquets, worshipped through birthdays, dates, weddings, and even funerals.
you're a flower, and you're beautiful and deserving of praise and honor from your stages in life as a seed, from a bud, to a blooming flower. yet you're neglected the same way ignorant trespassers would step on growing blooms, uncaring for sabotaging their life completely, and oh-so easily.
you're a flower, a symbol of nature's fertility, resilience, and tranquility.
you symbolize your mother's long standing determination to care for a child whose father looked other ways but her. who raised her seedling with care, watered them with stories of fairytales: fantasies about prince charmings who take their flowers away from barren lands to spoil them with rich soil and neverending sunlight, about princesses who stop by flower shops to awe at the arrangements of bouquets, eyes glazing with fervor as they recount each and every symbolism every unique flower shares.
your mother places you in your favorite, decorated pot: your shared bedroom with her, and she kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your chubby little fingers, the same way the illuminating sunlight kisses at your flushed body whenever you two would go out for your walks.
she was your mother nature, and you were her precious flower.
you were once a blooming bud then, and you wished you would still bloom now.
how could you grow into what you're worth, when even you couldn't grow without the love that was taken from you?
what about the care, the patience, the determination she once held in her warm gaze, now cold and fading with life the last time you saw her; would it all be a waste?
how could you grow now?
and yet you don't even need to ponder for solutions. the answers were clear, clear as the water your petals used to bathe in, clear as the rain that pitters against alfred's car windows the same day you were taken away from your mother's hold—
you simply wilt.
8:31PM.
your friend said she'd pick you up quarter to nine, so you'd at least have the time to prepare and make yourself look good. but right now...
god, right now, you don't feel anything good, not even a wee bit of it at all. ever since he texted you, you feel like shit, utterly repulsed. vile, like the image of you vomiting every contents of your stomach— and now you're going out drinking with an empty one. you can already feel the bitter taste of heavy alcohol mixing in with the acids of your stomach.
you can already feel the breakdown you're having right now as you remember how fucking broke and useless you are for having to ask your friends to treat you to drinking because you have nothing left to offer beyond the fucking taxes you have to pay and the nearly due rent and bills.
you have nothing to offer. you're so shitty. you deserve to die.
the more you stare at the mirror, the more your eyebags seem to deepen, your lips began to dry, and the pit in your chest sunken.
and that makes you exhale even deeper, ignoring the way your throat constricts on itself in instinct.
your eyes flitter to your fingers, nails bitten, skin ripped at the seems with dry blood staining chipped cuticles.
when you looked back at your reflection, you want to cry even more, seeing an image of a moving pile of flesh. all puffy skin and sagging eyes.
you don't remember the last time you felt pretty about yourself.
whether it was in the manor, or back when your mother was the only one raising you— it seems like your memories are in shambles right now.
you don't remember the last time you looked in a mirror, looking healthy, fresh, and proud of yourself for dressing up in your style. in the back of your mind, there will always be hatred, resentment for how you look. and right now, you hate how you every bit of your appearance because...
because you look exactly just like an image of your mother and bruce wayne. a reminder, your punishment for your parents' beautifully tragic affair with one another. a billionaire who courted the lowly dirt-class slut of gotham.
yet you're uglier because you're not them, you couldn't be them. you're not picture-perfect brucie with slick-black hair and a face like fine-aged wine, or the image of your sultry, "man-eater" mother in her lingerie. you're just, you— you've inherited all the stupid flaws you wished you could shave off your damn body.
you remember seeing your father's face in television with your mother beside you by the couch, combing your hair and giggling when your eyes had lit up at the sight of the rich man. you haven't once took your eyes off the news channel whenever he appeared, looking at bruce, always enamored with his aesthetics, only to never notice your mother's tired eyes, or how shaky her fingers would sometimes become.
"momma, that's daddy, right?!" you asked her whilst the side of your body was pressed against hers, with all the enthusiasm a child could muster. your grin was wide, eyes peeled to the screen, enough to ignore the flinch in your mother as you had once thought it was her igniting with the same excitement as yours.
she simply leans down and kisses your cheeks, her eyes, a beautiful shade of your eyes color, albeit lighter in hue, never once left the crown of your small head, ignoring the headline for the news about 'brucie's new fling caught on camera!'.
your mother was so glad you were still illiterate at your age. she wish she could never break off the illusion that it was her who simply birthed to you, with no face for a father. maybe you would've never ask her about why he had never once came to visit your small family, why you could never meet your other siblings, or why he's seen with multiple other women by his side every time you open the television.
you ask at frequent intervals; it makes her wish to strip away the past in which she chose to tell you who your father was. you would've experienced less heartbreak, she would've never seen the way your eyes would dim at her every excuse, or the way she felt your heart crack at the seams, only further breaking hers.
yet after a while, she replies and buries her thoughts, ignoring the tears that lid her eyes. with not so much enthusiasm in her light voice, with the undertones of guilt and sorrow digging deep throat her throat, but it was enough for young, little you to jump on your springy couch with her response.
"... oh, yes, that's your papa...! isn't he so nice looking—?"
"and handsome! i'm so lucky to have such beautiful parents! i wish i was as pretty as you, momma, and daddy too!"
when you had looked up with haste, glinting eyes staring up at her with a wide grin, some baby teeth still present, others absent from your gums, yet you displayed admiration no less; your mother just as quickly wipes her red eyes and sniffling nose with the worn sleeves of her sweater and reciprocates your beaming energy with a small smile.
she wishes you'd dismiss her previous melancholic expression, replacing it with the same fond, yet tired gaze she always offers you, wishing you'd be as oblivious to the pain it brings her to see your hopes and dreams of meeting a father you could only admire through a screen or article. yet you're always so perceptive, so interlinked with her reactions that she's sure that one of the few positive traits your father had given you. she should've expected your words, yet her broken heart finds a path to heal whenever you sense her pain and soft a bandage to the cracks of her bleeding scars with your kindness.
you would always be her little flower. the one she'd nurture in a garden filled with rosy bushes and scarring thorns.
"—you're so beautiful, momma, even if you cry because daddy isn't here with us, or you're too tired taking care of me. you're beautiful because you're my mother, and i'll take you over everything in the world..."
and you tell her, an inaudible whisper to your voice, with eyes that were once wide, beaming with joy, now gazing at her with softness like the wind kissing blades of grass in a gentle dance. you look at her, and she stares back, eyeing your chubby cheeks and lips the same shape of hers, the ends of your lashes curves the same way as hers, and your voice matches her like a lullaby when you speak every vowel in a soothing lilt.
you calm the hurt in her chest, replacing it with a mellow warmth. she even forgot the tears that slowly dripped her eyes, all replaced with the comfortable softness of her precious child's palms, smooth and cozy, resting on both of her cheeks as you pepper her crying face with kisses.
she holds both your palms caging her, and allows the your hold to linger for longer. the silence ensues, yet you both embrace the unsaid assurances.
it's times like these where she realizes you encapsulate the beauty of both worlds.
it's moments like this, she sees herself in you, and maybe she could lead herself to believe that she is beautiful, because she sees her beauty through her child, her grace.
the memory only further deepens the guilt in your heart.
if there's one word to describe you now. it would be disgrace. to your father's honor, and your mother's legacy. for easily letting yourself go, for being so weak, for being the line that jumps between two polar opposites of one another; trying to traverse their path of belonging.
you're a disgrace, a mistake, and you deserve to be treated as such.
it was why you never find yourself beautiful. a person such as yourself would always find allure, worth in all things chaotic - you live in gotham after all - but never find that same value in yourself as you look at your reflection that distorts your image even more, making you uglier and uglier the longer you look.
split ends everywhere, hand tangled, reddish eyes from nearly crying again.
even if you beat at yourself, erratic and impulsive, even if your skin is colored an ashen blue and purple, rotten shades of yellow and red, you think of yourself ugly and repulsive.
no matter how much color you try to bring into your bleak, repulsive life, at the cost of hurting yourself to become pretty— every part of you will always be that ugly, little duckling in comparison of your siblings who always outshone you.
dick with his playboy body, jason and his towering one, tim with soft boyish features, damian's silky tan and smooth skin, and duke's baby face.
you couldn't even have your hair frame you as perfectly as steph's light blonde hair does, or share barbara's proportionate face, or look as gracious yet deadly like cassandra.
you're nowhere near as special, you're not like them. you have features too unique, yet out of place, and you couldn't bring yourself to be conventionally good-looking.
you hate yourself so much. you hate every little mole, every little pimple, every damn imperfection that litter your body, making you even lesser than what you already are.
your family; mother, father, brothers and sisters, god, even your fucking friends! every time you sit by them side-by-side, you'd feel insecure, imperfect, an eyesore and you just want to strip away every part of your limbs one by one if that meant replacing it with even better ones; all for the sake of at least feeling pretty.
you remember the first time you tried to find a sense of style, and damian's comment and– god fucking damn it—!
your hands found its way to your brushed hair, tangling itself through already fragile strands to rip at the seams. you don't care, you don't fucking care, you pray to any god out there to get them out of your head, pleas unheard, you're always left to hurt.
"what are you trying to achieve with that, huh? what even are you trying to think with that horrendous color combination? what are you, a clown? even that damned joker has more coordination than you think you could achieve."
in front of his friend, jon kent, with a scowl on his ever-so angry face and his hand already making a way to grip his sword; an absolute threat to dice you up shall you ever bother being in the same room as him.
he said that to you... you're older, you could've been stronger, could've at least found a semblance of fight in your bones. but no! god, no. your life was ruled with fear with damian wayne being the demon haunting you in the manor, always making living harder, making breathing a heavy task.
how could you ever fight back? not when you've conditioned yourself to tear up at the slightest bit of noise, feel goosebumps prick your skin when you hear someone raise their voice at you, and your heart rate hasten at the slide of a knife against any surface?
you! you who's so fucking weak to even make a comeback. you, who ran away with wide, traumatized eyes. because you're scared, so fucking fearful of an even bigger cut to your skin marked by damian— even if you're accustomed to cutting yourself with even deeper gashes.
because it's him that you fear, not the pain, not anymore. just him and his contempt at you for ruining his pure bloodline just by you being his half-sibling.
you don't want a repeat of your first meeting, or any meeting with him at all. not when you'd drown even deeper in a pit of fear every time you stare at his glaring, emerald eyes. one that tells you he chose to merely not kill you out of the goodness of his heart. but he will, god he will if he feels you've been too comfortable in his presence.
every damn time, everytime you feel fear, you see green. you hate green, any literal meaning of it, every implication of itx even seeing it, and fuck! your outfit has green embellishments.
you feel even uglier, yet the twinge of fear immediately overpowers any concern your had with your appearance. it's as if eyes were suddenly on you, and it's not only yours staring at you in the mirror.
your lips wobble, snot began blocking through the passage of your nose.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
why?! why can't you just forget about them all. why, why, why?!
you bite your lips harshly to conceal the pained whimpers from the back of your throat, but it doesn't work. it only makes the fear worse.
tears rim at your eyes, you merely wipe them away. your heart attempts to beat out of its gilded cage, yet you swallow your quivering chokes and proceed to continue staring at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a rush, with nothing to conceal your ghastly eyebags and sunken skin.
and green. you'll see it everywhere now. fuck, would dick send out damian to kill you now? you don't know, you're scared but you can't chicken out, not when your friend is already near to your apartment. god you wish you had beer in your cabinets instead, but you're broke and unprepared for life and your hair's all in a tangle and you just fucking want to die.
your hands grip at the edge of your sink, you look at your mirror and see the blood on your already bitten lips.
not even concealer can cover the damn scars all over your face all through the neck.
calm down.
you stare even deeper at yourself and ignore the green, trying to think of something else—
something less emotionally scarring, like your appearance. even if it brings you great pain, too, you'd rather that than your family. no more of them, fuck, no more. even if you stare at your eyes and see that familiar mix of colors of your mother and bruce's eyes. the shape of your face, even the curve of your brows all resembled your late mother— and you miss her, her captivating beauty that you never saw aged like fine way before she was taken away from you. you see bruce in the strands of your hair and the way it sometimes fray when too stressed. you see them in every image you wish to erase of yourself.
yet your genetics are nothing to them, not when you can't even care for your tangled hair or ashen skin.
even the dead looked more lively than you ever could.
with a pale complexion, with scars that litter all over your shoulders, wrists, and hidden parts of your body, one you're too ashamed to show anybody— it was no doubt that you looked pathetic and erased the beauty that both your parent's cultivated. and it makes you wonder; would it really be worth it?
would it be worth it if the people around you see you?
you with your melancholic eyes, trying to find an escape in a maze you call your mind? you can picture yourself drinking alcohol until you reach the domain of death, sitting in a stool, alone, as you nearly empty the contents of your stomach remembering the sole reason why you're there in the first place.
would it be worth it if all eyes suddenly were on you? they turn to you to gaze at the ugly bruises on your body, they mock your appearance, call you names, look at your sniveling, red nose and warm cheeks intoxicated from all the heavy liquor you'd down, and whisper. they'll whisper insults, slurs, and every known jab until it's all their words that pierces through your eyes, until the loud bass becomes mere background chatter for all the gossips that ensue.
are you actually going to do this right now?
you don't know, you don't know and you wish never cared as much.
all you could really focus on was your eminent goal of getting out of your stuffy apartment, to rid of the paranoia that somehow, you're being watched over in the confines of your four walls and that the familiar image of green will come attack you. the more you think, the more the hairs on your skin start to raise with every known intention to signal you of your anxiety.
eyes, they may be everywhere.
eyes, eyes, eyes. as you stare at your eyes, you try to ignore emerald eyes, they dilute even further. you gulp, yet your focus remains distorted. images flash at the mirror, and suddenly they're here, with you, with their eyes. bright blue for some, dark green for another, and they all gaze at you with contempt. one's hand claws at your throat, the other pins your wrist down on the edge of the sink. the eyes glare, and they never soften. yours merely shook, unblinking as your breathing becomes heavier; trapped in the cages of their wanton staring.
you yelp, then blink. when you did, they're gone. and you're back to looking at the same image of yourself. you grimace slowly.
ugly, with dry skin and falling hairs. the worst version of you, the normal version of yourself— there was never a best version for you.
as long as it's you, you'll never be enough.
all you wanted was to drink with your friends at a club; some working nightshifts at the location you're going to— yet you want to back down. want to take your phone by the corner of your vision and cancel your sudden plans.
but you're scared, you're so fucking scared of any new messages.
hell, even finding the contacts for your friends was a task in itself you wish to never repeat. with jittery fingers trying to type of messages and blurry eyes navigating through the screen of your slippery, glass screen protector.
you're scared, rightfully so.
you're scared to find his message once more suddenly popping up, your fingers accidentally pressing on it like the clumsy swine you are, and rereading that damn heart over and over again.
you slam your dominant hand against the tiled sink, hard and uncaring for the pain it induced all throughout your body. the tremors of the impact shook you to your core, yet you seethe in your breath and don't allow yourself respite to let the tears flow freely from your already red eyes. you feel your heart beating erratically through your chest, the shivers controlling your body, the shrieks that you contained within you— and you enchain them all with no respect for yourself.
you deserve this. you deserve to be hurt, to be punished for your actions, for your mistakes, for your sins.
even if your hand became swollen, splotched with varying shades of disgusting purples and yellows, you won't treat it with medicine. even if the sharp edges of the sink broke the fragile layer of your already scarred palm, and bled profusely with that familiar shade of red; you won't rush to wrap it with gauze or even spare a droplet of betadine. even if by the next day you'd have to write out your overdue assignments with that specific hand, then you'll force yourself to learn through the other and punish yourself again if you fail once more.
you deserve this.
and as your phone pings, lighting up to show you a notification of one of your friend's messages about being ready to pick you up by the lobby of your apartment's ground floor, you ignore your injured hand and the bruises on your knees from falling so abruptly on tiled floors just moment's ago. you dismiss the ache of your head, the soreness of your eyes and the disgusting beat of your heart.
you ignore the pain that wrecks at your entire body, in favor of destroying it even more, just as you deserve.
you don't recall how many shots you had before you're nearly passed out by the bar, sitting on its stool with your head leaning on one both your arms crossed, drool close to slipping out of the corners of your mouth and heavy eyes lidded, about to fall into the depths of sleep.
you're sure you looked wasted, absolutely drop-dead drunk with no thoughts circulating in your head other than the pleasant buzz in your ears and the flash of colors in the disco balls blanketing the entire room with its neon lights. your face must've been an unearthly shade of red, and you can already feel just how blazen it is, and how your fingertips are ice-cold to the touch (probably colder than the marble you lay your arms upon). in other words, you're actually wasted.
and it's so worth it if it means it gets you to forget. and forget you did, because you can't even dig deep into your head to even remember a single memory of whatever grief you went through earlier in your apartment. not even the throb of your head from when you pulled your hair from its roots, all to the way you slammed your dominant hand on your bathroom sink, bruising it with unnatural shades of purples and yellow.
it makes you omit every type of pain, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. it doesn't cure you of your ails, but god forbid you if you just want to savor moments where nothing but a mind numbing headache is the only feeling present in your current state.
the remix of songs were long forgotten in your mind, they all become an amalgamation of miscellaneous sounds. your body is so inclined towards the flat, rectangular cool surface of the marble glass of the bar that you can guarantee you could sleep here, especially since black behan to cloud both your vision and your mind.
everything feels so hazy, and pleasant, and straight-out peaceful that the screaming tandems of equally drunk clubbers and the occasional sobers holding up their friends who sang along with whatever remix the dj comes up with, or the forming crowd as people began to rock and dance to the bass that shakes up the entire floor to the point you can feel vibrations run along your spine— didn't register within the crevices in your mind.
all you can focus on, is the gratifying pleasure ll alcohol induces in your body. gone is the feeling of fear that emanates off of every inch within your body. your bones don't feel as if it's locking up everytime you feel eyes on you, and your throat doesn't certainly feel constricted with the lack of flow of blood anymore.
god, this is why you've never once regret drinking right after the moment you turned eighteen— not when it's positive effects outweighs all the negative emotions that rule over your body.
you couldn't even notice a man with shades (seriously, who wears that to party? isn't the club dark enough?) sitting beside your drunken form in the corner of your eyes, raptured in the thin line between focusing on reality and drifting off to dream world. you don't even bat an eye to his muffled giggles and the way he twisted his stool just to admire the view: you.
you're oblivious to the entire commotion happening within the depths of his mind because you couldn't feel any aptitude to danger right now— thanks to the effects of the hard liquor overtaking whatever fear you've felt being watched long ago.
or maybe you just felt safe beside the stranger. or, you're merely drunk. you don't know.
fuck, you're so close to passing out.
you don't know where your friends are, where they came running off to but you know you won't be getting out her sooner or later and you definitely don't have a ride home. so your only way back without getting ambushed as a completely vulnerable citizen of gotham, is by a safer, more convenient means of a ride— but that certainly wouldn't be safe if your friends are as equally drunk, or even more so, as you. but does your hazy mind care? no. not when you flip your head to rest on the other side once the other side became hotter that you notice a conveniently attractive man staring right back at you with an entertained grin.
as if your existence alone makes him happy. as much as your mind keeps blanking out, that mere implication made your heart pang just a teensy bit. of pain, or pleasure, or mere joy, you don't know. but you do know that it triggered some unknown feelings and you don't want to feel.
you want to drink some more, feeling solemn all of a sudden just from staring at him. you're sure the obvious frown on your quivering lips and the heavy, hot sigh
and it doesn't help that his face seems similar. the longer you stare, the more his grin seems to sharpen. confidently? or shyly? you can't seem to gain a clear image of him; what when rainbow lights are blazing out through the holes of the disco ball and your eyes recently just opened to your near journey to traverse through sleep.
all you can make out to be is his jet-black hair, side bangs framing the left side of his face, a faint outline of an eyebrow piercing
you also took note of his spiky jacket— yet what draws you the most to him are his sunglasses that he chose to wear conspicuously in a damn club of all places.
he's attractive, to say the least, but he triggers a set of emotions deep into the cages of your imprisoned heart that sets itself free. he gives you a sense of nostalgia, of familiarity that you can't pinpoint but feel; like you've seen him before but don't know when. your eyebrows furrow in and your eyes squint at him, unknowing to the judgement you're subjecting him in. your lips wobble, though, because his presence just makes your heart feel something, akin to pain but not quite, and makes your head buzz that you just want to cry as a reaction.
he, the stranger, don't know it, but he makes you all sad, primal emotions overtaking any drunkenness you feel as deep tremors buzzed into the confines of your chest, until all you're doing is staring at him with pouting, downturned lips and sad, puppy eyes; rimming with salty tears.
you don't know why you feel sad all of the sudden, and you can faintly see through blurry, watery vision how his face shifted from entertained to worry, eyebrows raised and eyes wide open at your sudden mood shift.
maybe you or him could've spoken up, you more so, but you're just so emotionally drained and overwhelmed today that you began sobbing silently without breaking eye contact with the man.
despite you wanting to say anything: an introduction, a question opening up as to why he's staring at you, or even a mere phrase telling him to "back off"; the only words that came out from your parched throat, all from trying to reason in your head on what a proper sentence should be, were:
"you're hot," and if you were sober enough, you would've felt sheer embarrassment and shame from eyeing the boy, but you're not— and because you're not sober, or any bit sane, the next few sentences you spewed out were all coherent, yet wonkily pronounced utterances paired with teary eyes and sniffling nose, as you can't seem to control the feelings of melancholy in your heart and the sudden emotional burst from your ramblings.
"thank you, you too, actually— but are you alright-"
"you're so hot, god, please. i don't know..." you gave him no time to speak as you hiccupped, lips wobbling even more than you can imagine. and you're trying your damn best to rid of the urge to punch at your chest as a coping mechanism through the multitude of emotions eating you up and away. but you never realized you were trying for an absolute stranger, palms fisting into itself as he stares at you worriedly all of a sudden.
"like... you're familiarly attractive, i—" the next few sentences were incoherent as your words bubbled around you like detergent soap. your fingers found itself into your face as you try to wipe off both tears and nearly dripping snot as you continued rambling drunkly.
"you just! you're hot, for me, i don't know... i'm just, we all—eughh... i don't know, i'm so sad..." and you truly are, for no reason at all other than seeing the man. poor him, must've felt so ashamed that he's the reason you're crying but at the same time... nothing can really stop you from ceasing your tears.
at least, that's what you've convinced yourself to believe in. that you're truly incurable of the ailment of being constantly depressed with nobody to aid you with your troubles. not even your friends, nor past therapists that you've consulted.
you've nothing to comfort you, and that makes you even more solemn than ever.
the simplest of emotions felt, the deeper and complex you take it out to be. sadness, or moreover depression, the horseman of apocalypse that destroys any hope you've tried to kindle with your life.
it makes you all the more burst into a wave of even more tears.
"... okay, okay, wait here for me, alright?" he suddenly stood up, hurriedly, probably unsure, or disgusted by you. you're unsure about what he's saying, too caught up crying that you simply nod to whatever he said and continued on with your episode.
as you're left alone, you allow your tears to dry only cry once more. when he left you, you weren't aware but you just felt even more lonely. at pushing away the only company you had after your friends left you in the dust, you feel depressed and regretful and all emotions related to grief and you just want to drink some more but you don't know if you can take it anymore!
god, it all returns to pain. pain you thought you could bury deep once you took multiple swigs of alcohol.
pain that makes you want to bang your head against the marble of the bar—
and you're so close to doing so, but only stopped when your blurry vision sets itself on the man returning with a handkerchief and a cold glass of ice water. at his kind gesture, you simply teared up even more, pouting when he walked your way and looked at you with a sheeping grin.
when he sat right back up on the stool seated to your right, he hesitated with his hold on the handkerchief near your face. but the moment he gathered up his pride and pressed it against the unnatural blaze of your cheeks, you merely leaned closer to his palms, eyes closing as you can feel the tears cease itself finally at the blind comfort he's unknowingly providing you.
"there, there... be careful, 'kay stranger?"
he mutters, a light chuckle accompanying him. it's only now you can finally focus on the cool churn of his voice and the , with your eyes close and the haze of your thoughts washing away, leaving you breathless in your respite— not restrictive, nor lonely, but still short of breath.
this reminds you of the times alfred had to hold you in his arms everytime you threw a tantrum at the manor.
it made you realize that the months, a near year even, after leaving the manor, made you crave physical affection. making you feel like a husk of yourself when not given. you feed off of the scraps of physical lovez to the point that even this man who's wiping away the tears from your cheeks makes your heart beat faster, in a comfortable manner.
sensations. he once told you that if you feel too deeply within, then to ground yourself you must feel beyond interior ranges of emotions.
and that's the technique you've been willing away from your head for so long. because it always requires another person in the room to comfort you, to simply touch you softly, gently like you're porcelain the same way the stranger is pressing damp fabric against your tearstained cheeks and hollowed out eyes.
the pain you've felt was because you're merely touch starved. alone, in a space where everyone has someone, and a no one can't have anyone.
but now that you do have a someone, no matter how dangerous he could've been outside of your impression of him, you feel the pain lessen, the heavy burdens become featherlight at his kind gestures of wiping all the salty tears from your face, the runny snot from your nose with no rush whatsoever.
"feel better now, hon?"
"mhm..." a long, drawled out yawn emits from your mouth, yet you're too comfortable with him to even care, suddenly feeling a wave of drowsiness after your emotional episode.
after he finished wiping your face, and felt it considerably cool down from the damp fabric, he placed it on the bar, one hand on your face keeping you stable. yet his other hand promptly went back to your cheeks.
he chose to do this of his own volitions, even leaning closer as your head finds itself slowly dropping to his clavicle (careful to avoid the spikes from his peculiar designed jacket), looking up at him and staring at his gray eyes.
the man looks down at you as you now realize he's cupping your face. at the implication of your entire ordeal with him, you might've felt flustered sober, but you're just so drunk that any spacial awareness for the proximity between your bodies just disappeared and left you with the need to sleep within the confines of the safety this man left you with.
you don't know it, but yet again the man smiles down at your adorable antics, finding the way you're absolutely trusting of a stranger both stupid, yet endearing. because he's no more stranger, and heaven bless him because he's so glad he's the person who approached you rather than anyone else because you looked so cute, and his crush on you may have lead him to stalk you occasionally just to ensure you're safe— that doesn't erase the gesture that he did it purely because gotham is too dangerous for your own good. and he's glad he trusted his human side of intuition, rationalizing with himself that today just seems to be the day you'd bump into danger if he's not there.
you're so stunning up close... how come tim never once found interest in someone as admirable as you is a mystery. but you trusting a stranger in your vulnerable state is much more.
and he's grateful he's that stranger.
because he may be a stranger to you, but a familiar one. and you feel safe, a feeling you haven't felt in so long that you simply just melt against him like clear putty; because you're transparent with what you feel right now.
and right now you feel warmth. not the uncomfortable one that blazes through your (now) cool face when you were drunk, nor the burning one whenever you thought of your family— but a pleasant one. like sitting near a fireplace as you watch the embers crackle, drinking hot cocoa whilst a quilt covers your body from the cold of the winter. you feel this way at his kindness, at his efforts to help you contain your emotions to a reasonable degree.
"what's your name, kind stranger?" you mutter on his chest (how come your head is laying on it, actually?) hearing the soft thumps of his heart. it's warm, he's warm and every bit of comfortable, as he does his best to move slightly back to remove his jacket and drape it over your body before he could reply to you, chuckling whilst doing so because you looked up at him with your eyes conveying every damn emotion that made you feel soft.
"it's conner, conner kent. call me kon, though. or yours if it's you." he purrs. it took you a minute to register his obvious flirting but what comes after is an absolute flush on your body and you recoiling from his hold as you look back at him, mouth agape. the tips of your ears were warm, and every bit of
an overexaggeration to his flirting, sure. it makes you look less appealing in your eyes, extra sure! but it's been so long since someone last attempted to flirt with you; but most were under the guise of when you were still a wayne and... and not as yourself. you! you who sports so many imperfections that—
"haha! is it strange to say that you look so cute whenever you look at me with wide eyes in the short span of time we just met?"
he slides in through your train of thoughts before you could delve even deeper through self-deprecation. and you're glad that he did because... god, he makes you want to shamelessly gloat as a reply. you've never had someone complement your eyes before, actually...
"i'm..." you look back at him after you stared down at your palms, heat overtaking your entire body. yet again it wasn't uncomfortable, and just the right temperature. you stutter your name afterwards, making sure it's your mother's last name that you highlighted implicitly and not bruce's.
he seems to grin even wider when you introduce yourself. that's when his next reply generally warranted you to nearly burst off your seat out of sheer diffidence.
"well," he says your name, tasting every syllable in his pierced tongue. "your name tastes sweet, dove. but i think your face is even sweeter now that you're not crying — not saying that isn't cute too but you're so stunning now that i look closer at you without any barriers. your eyes, especially, they're like some mix doe and siren eyes, or whatever my other friends talk about in social media. point given, you're drop-dead gorgeous in my eyes."
it all comes naturally from him that your brain merely shortcircuited and fried itself comprehending his message, forgetting you were drunk in the first place replacing it with a flush in your heart, the pit of grief and despair replaced with the lighthearted need to banter or reply meekly at his shameless flirting right after he comforted you.
this is the first time you felt something for someone's romantic gestures, instead of that wave of nausea that accompanies you.
he makes you feel... pretty about yourself. in a good way, in a way you don't feel the need to hide your insecurities for once and instead allow his eyes to flitter around your entire face, analyzing your features because... because he simply makes you feel pretty the more he stares at you.
yet all you did was take his hand on your own, a sudden burst of confidence even you couldn't explain, and played with it, as you pouted in reply before thinking— using his hand-now-turned-fidget-toy — of a good enough response.
you simply said, coughing before continuing, "i don't take back what i said moment's ago. you're hot too, even if my vision was obstructed by my tears."
"oh, really?" he smiled gently and allowed your hands autonomy to play with his. it's like telepathy, he knows it's automatic that you crave physical affection and attention and he's willing to provide you that solace.
"now that you're not crying— you think i'm even more handsome?"
you snort at his question, then took a step back with your thoughts to properly study him. neat, yet messy hair, piercing on the eyebrows and on his tongue (hot), sunglasses and spiky jacket draped upon your shoulders— goddamnit, of course he's hot! and you made it efficiently clear that he is, with your hands fiddling pattern against his soft, yet calloused hands, by squeezing it.
"yes, you are even more handsome, kon..." brief and concise, just how you like it. even if he gave you an entire essay describing you in his eyes, for you, you prefer actions; and you did so by simply being affectionate with the stranger, now acquaintance you have a slight crush on.
you'd never expected this turn of events, but it was a pleasant one and one you'd never really want to trade with anything else now that you've met kon.
so when he opened his mouth to spew something else, your ears perked up to listen and your mind, albeit slowly sobering up, prepared itself to reply to whatever flirting, conversation topics, and anything random it is that he wishes to talk about to you.
you smiled at him whilst he talked, he reciprocates as always.
yet this time, you weren't afraid to hide just how joyous you feel, for once, having a person interested in you not only physically but with your interests, too, as your conversations kept shifting to things about you.
it made inclined to learn about yourself, too. and that makes you happy, and fuzzy in the insides the more he asks you questions beyond your favorites. like in movies, he didn't simply just ask your favorites and you replied with an answer and moved on, no! you both discussed the emotional depth it impacted you with, why symbolism matters so much, and why in the near future you'd both inevitably meet up, you'll both watch it together.
that makes you feel excited.
you even forgot the main reason why you're here in the first place; to drink. now, though, it seems like you just wanted to talk to kon all night long.
fortunately for you, that's how the rest of your night went. with a pleasant buzz in the background, the sounds of remixes all drowned out in your ears as you favor the chatters of the man beside you, with the tremor of his voice a comfortable volume and his tone laced with freshly made honey.
when your friends finally ran back to the bar where you all collectively agreed to meet up at once everyone's shenanigans were finished, they giggled drunkenly whilst some sober ones whistled at seeing your hand unknowingly massaging his palms like a stresstoy and the jacket draped upon your shoulders.
the moment you returned it to him, he joked about wearing it every second now since it reminds him of you, and how it's his favorite piece of attire now beyond all his other clothing. you merely blushed and ignored the cooing of your friends behind you.
you didn't feel concerned over not seeing him anymore, as he had given you a slip of paper with his number on it in through a tissue with paracetamol pills wrapped around it (like the thoughtful gentleman he made himself out to be when he excused himself a second time to get those items, since you'd left your phone with one of your friends; you swore you felt a blush creep into your cheeks and heating the tip of your ears), you instead felt a pang of longing and furrowed your brows, looking at him as if asking if you'll see him around anytime soon as he reciprocates with a sure grin that makes you feel a wave of feather like affection.
he left shortly after, striding to you as your group recollects all your stuff and whispering a, "text you later, dove. stay safe for me, alright? don't let any other strangers get to you."
you're glad this night would end on a good note, willing away any prior doubts towards spending the night in a completely foreign street and expecting fir criminals and thugs to break in but no! you can't help but admit that your new... interest, conner, made your night a thousand times better.
and his little nickname for you... haha, you're so flustered thinking about texting him tonight. you'd neglect your assignments for now if it meant messenging him right after you get home, safely, for his sake.
when your group all came outside though, that's when things shifted.
time is a construct. it's complicated and structured like that as well. it can either be too fast, or too slow. when your friends had taken their sweet time to spend the night dancing about the dancefloor, when you'd taken the precious time to flirt and talk to kon; that's when you all collectively realized that their damn cars were stolen.
the air suddenly shifted to this thick atmosphere when you all stepped out, one that can be sliced through with a sword, and you swore—
god, you swore this night couldn't have been any better with the turn of things, but now. right after you got out the club, it all took a turn for the worse.
this is it.
you're going to die today.
you're going to die, in some dirty ditch, your friends nowhere to be found, with nobody to save you.
nasty bruises already began to form on your skin, one with harsher colors of purple, blue, and yellow on your wrists and other patches of skin; way harsher
the man in front of you was gnarly, but you've no time to judge as he kicks you in the guts.
matted brown hair lay atop his head like a bird's attempt at a near, he has an odor that reeks of sewer rats, piss, and feces, and an unruly beard that houses bits of his leftover.
he holds a weapon whose shape you couldn't make out with your hazy vision, body nearly cramping in on itself once he kicked you again.
straight in the abdomen, with brute strenght accompanied by his worn leather boots decorated with glinting spikes that sparkle under the moonlight's glow.
in the abdomen, spikes.
blood first, then curdling pain next.
no noise rips through your ears, only wringing ever present, but your mouth opens, and you can feel its tender chords crack as a scream erupts from your throat, shrill and resounding from the deepest depths of the cockpit your mouth has to offer you; uncaring for the man in front of who who suddenly covers his ears and grits his teeth, who looks at you like you're mad, yet unlike same way his two other lackeys from behind look at your like you're the creation of carnage itself.
pain shot throughout your body, most especially at the core of the holes that pierced through your clothes and right inside your skin. and as your bulging, teary eyes try to look down with an agape, whimpering mouth, his shoes still connected to your body; you could only hold off so much of that familiar taste of acidic bile paired with that lingering scent of cheap booze.
tears were a byproduct of the misery, as it began to escape from your already puffy eyes. when the man released his legs fron pinning you down, your sobs only worsened as your unpinned, shivering arm try its damned best to cover the already leaking blood.
six holes, the diameter of the more than half of your finger, was what you could make out in your line of sight. the blood that leaked from them looked black, you couldn't find where the gradient of black and red connects, your only certainty in this situation was that you'd bleed to death before help could come to you.
the spikes were as long as a toothpick, a crimson puddle lay dripping on the floor.
your legs were shaking against your will, your eyes frantically search around you yet your pinned once more, his larger body framing against your own, providing no room nor qualms for an escape.
but the only escape you wanted was one from the pain of his pressing against your injury, even more blood spilling out of its confines. your tears only hastened its descent from your shaky eyes.
when your mouth opened for the nth time to wail out, he seethed in a breathe and threatened you, with his breath as vile as his entire being, that smells like every mix of synthetic chemicals from cigarette flavors, all expired, with teeth rotting and sporting yellow and black wallpaper.
gross, so gross. you want to die when the stench hits your nose. you shrivel in yourself, you couldn't breath.
"listen here, little bitch, you quiet down or i kill you. and 'ya either give me everythin' you own in your damn possession, or i'll kick you even more until a thousand little holes will fuckin' make you bleed to death, hear me?"
hearing his statement only made the adrenaline pump even more fight of flight into your heart. but you can't do either, you can't, not when you're still hazy from the fucking alcohol and the self defense tools in your tiny pouch were thrown a few feet away from you.
you've nothing to defend yourself.
oh god, oh shit, fuck.
you want to die, you want to so fucking die than go through the same pain of nearly being abducted or held hostage again.
yet your eyes could only close, your teeth kissing your bottom lips, biting hard to drown out another pained scream. whimpers, god, they're so loud yet you can't help the whimpers and the broken faucet from your eyes. even if you beg your own body to stop, it doesn't listen to the pleas of your mind.
the only thing it can focus on is the pain. recreant, volatile pain.
a moan escapes you, shaky and prolonged. the only other emotion that you could experience after is sorrow.
you didn't expect your pleasant night to end off in such a tragic note, but as your attacker held you by your throat with one hand, a knife pointed against your face, the next that happened was your head slammed roughly against the wall; a dull, beating ache lulling the back of your head after the momentary spark of pain— you're reminded that this is reality, and you're close to losing consciousness quick.
you're going to die.
bloody, a sobbing, dissociating mess, with your thoughts spinning around the same way the stranger and his lackeys laugh — bared yellow teeth, with the smell of ichor prevalent in their clothes, predatory eyes leering at you like you're prey — at your drunken moans of pain.
you're going to die.
"well, you gonna answer me or what, bitch? you wanna die!?"
he shouts you with spit that sprays all over your face, flashing you a grin and by extension flashing you his ugly, bared teeth. some missing were in his gums, others were artificial, most rotten like him.
you're going to die.
alone, in a ditch. bloody, laying in a pool of your own crimson the same way you saw your mother drowns in a puddle of hers.
you'll die like her—
what an honor.
the more you think about the situation, the more you're led to believe that the only way to solve this was through death alone, with no restrictions, no buts or ifs. you've no fight left in your body, or any weapon to fight. you're drunk, defenseless and if you actually managed to escape, you'd still bleed to death in some unknown alleyway. if you're lucky, a stray police may find you and give you a proper burial. but you remember you're in the living incarnate of hell in america, you'll never have a proper death.
this was night in gotham. your death alone only adds to the already astounding high percentages of all the other lives lost to the same twisted fate. you were no different. and to die early than to suffer from torture is better.
i mean, who would give a shit if you die tonight, right? your family— wrong! alfred would panic at your disappearance, but he'll forget about you like he did others, you're sure of it. that's why he still chose to fucking serve the wayne's instead of fully taking your side. if he had to choose between saving you or the people he swore his loyalty onto, he wouldn't hesitate. you're sure. even if the thoughts made the doom in your heart heavier. even if you know your story would never be covered nor acknowledged, you still year
but life is unfair, everything is. that's why you're here now, in a dark fucking alleyway with men who'll more than take advantage of your dying body and leave your corpse in the dump after. life is unfair, yet it's even more cruel in gotham. you should've expected this, should've known that a turn of events could be possible. you'll feel regret in the afterlife, only for a life that could've been well-lived, but never for the choice of living through the torture you call being a wayne.
so you came to the conclusion; confident for once after living for thirteen and a half years walking on eggshells around a manor.
this is not as bad as their neglect.
you smile in response to the guy, genuine and filled with grace as your heart that once pounds against your chest now slows down to a calm pace, finally at peace. with no other intention than to rattle him even more, to the point of choosing you to kill with his own hands as brutally as he likes— so you finally take a well deserved rest from life.
you gather saliva at the center of your tongue, ignore the taste of blood that swirls, nor the soreness of your throat and the crimson dripping down your nose.
when he looks down at you, disoriented at what you're doing, you spit at him, all the beating in your heart hastened, yet slowed down as quickly as you heave in a final breath.
... you're finally going to die.
"FUCKING HELL, YOU DAMN CUNT—!"
you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the knife that would hopefully stab you in the face, or the chest, and think of your last thoughts. you thank alfred for caring for you for those thirteen years, you hope you win your mother's graces in the afterlife even if she discovered your deliberate choices for killing yourself in the spur of a moment, and you wish your old family a happy life living without you, even if they already did so for so long.
all you needed was seconds to conclude your prayers.
but they weren't answered as you wanted them to be, not when you open your wide eyes to what was supposed to be a glint of silver piercing through the middle of your face was replaced by a bullet, quick and precise, shooting through his cranium without mercy, body immediately laying limp within those seconds.
the other two behind him were good as dead, too, your savior not wasting any moment to end their lives then and there.
and as you stumbled from the grip released from your body, your torso nearly crumpling in on itself, a flash of familiar, metallic red enters your vision when you'd look up from your savior who's huge form now meticulously acts as your shield from the brutal carnage that lays upon your line of sight and a pillar of protection trying to help you stand from the pain that shot through your lower abdomen.
but you don't want to stand, you want to drop dead right now. you don't want this, you didn't want this to happen.
instead of gratitude, dread fills your lungs with water and your fingers were left to tremor.
he looks down at you, you couldn't make out his expression, but you could feel the anger coursing through his body, the same as the day you first met him when he was still newly rebirthed, like it's telling you of his unadulterated rage at witnessing the scene before him. his body shakes, heavily, and his grip on your hands tighten, a mechanical groan drawling deep from his automated voice banks that changes his voice.
yet all you feel was fear overtaking your entire body prior to the comfort at the prospect of death.
you'd rather die than this.
even you couldn't believe the whimper of his name from your wobbling lips, as your body, out of instinct despite the pain, tried to push itself against the wall, away from him.
he only moves to hold your waste protectively, like a... brother suffocating his younger sibling with blankets when they complain it's cold. overbearing, disgustingly affectionate; you don't want it.
you feel cold.
this day could've been any worse— and it took a turn to the all worse scenarios you could imagine.
"jason...?"
"angel..."
a single familiar name was spoken, yet a new nickname was introduced. angel: the same way jason swore what you looked like when he sped through his motorcycle after hearing a shriek from all across the streets, finding you, bleeding and beaten to a pulp, with your attacker almost stabbing you.
of course, who wouldn't hesitate pulling a gun against someone trying to kill your precious? jason doesn't even need to choose.
and whether he did it in the name of justice and respect to his moral code, or because finding someone with a familiar face, sharing the same hopeless, yet death-accepting expression as he did back when he died— it all doesn't matter in the heat of the moment now.
what matters is that his angel is hurt and the madness in him festers the longer you bleed out in his arms, defiant and fearful all the same.
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PLEASE READ: 11,000+ words. AND I LITERALLY HATE THIS CHAPTER (new least favorite fr) 😭 this decision is so impulsive i gonna regret it soon. chapter 5 will be released after a few days and i promise it has more action than this I SWEAR. first parts are always boring. anyways, there're so many song references in this chapter and for the next chapter. if any of you could guess what they are, i'll be rewarding all of you with something special. otherwise, please leave comments for this chapter! what motivated me to write was reading everybody's comments and inputs, about the love they have for this series as much as i do. interactions, asks, comments, they're all important and dear to me and i heavily appreciate it. so more interaction = more content. after all, i'd rather a post with little likes but with no interaction than a post with no interaction but all likes.
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#🌷... yael's works#series: again & again#yandere dc#yandere dc comics#yandere batfam#yandere batman#yandere dick grayson#yandere dick grayson x reader#yandere jason todd#yandere jason todd x reader#male yandere#platonic yandere#soft yandere#yandere bruce wayne#yandere alfred pennyworth#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x darling#yandere x female reader#yandere tim drake#yandere damian wayne x reader#yandere damian x reader#yandere cassandra cain#yandere stephanie brown#yandere duke thomas#yandere barbara gordon
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Yandere Genshin Men With An Escaped Darling
Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano, Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Pierro, Sethos, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli (all separate)
This took me so much longer than what I have planned. I had much fun writing this:) if you have any yandere scenario requests feel free to send me an ask<3 (I most likely won’t include every single character). (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).
Masterlist
Warnings: violence, murder, imprisonment, manipulation, drugging, female reader
Word count: 9664
Albedo
The icy wind whipped against your cheeks. Snow clouded your vision. The tree branches waved in the wind and grasped at your clothes. You hissed as a thorn ripped your fabric, causing you to bleed.
As you ran down the mountain you glanced over your shoulder at every given moment.
A clearing caught your eye. Finally you could breathe out. You leans against a large tree. You needed to cover your wound. You rummaged through your pockets and to your joy you found a small scarf. The thin woven scarf was gifted to you by Klee, Albedo’s younger sister. The little girl was so proud when she gave you the scarf and wanted you to wear it all the time. Sadness filled your being at the thought of ruining the pink scarf, but your arm was more important. You bound your wound tightly with the scarf. One of the things he had thought you.
“I told you to stay inside the cabin” his voice echoed.
You froze. You prayed to the archons that it was just your mind playing tricks on you.
“This mountain is dangerous. You have no way of defending yourself” his voice soft.
You turned your head. Your eyes met his ice blue ones. They were cold, just like the icy mountain.
“Let’s go home” he walked towards you with quick steps. His arms wrapped around you and he kissed your forehead. “You are better off home, with me. I will keep you safe” his arms tightened around your form.
Alhaitham
The scribe had given you freedom. Which allowed you to freely roam the Akademiya. While Alhaitham was preoccupied in his office, you explored the university. Within a couple of months you had made friends with a couple of the students. You never told them you situation with the grey haired scholar, but they all knew that you lived together.
You had spent a lot of time plotting your escape. After all escaping the scribe was no easy task. The House of Daena was empty and quiet. The small bag you had hoisted over your shoulder filled with only the necessities. Your hands was shaking as you pushed down the door handle to a back door. The sunlight blinded you as the door opened.
You hurried down the path from the Akademiya. Your flats clicking against the cobblestone. You had to get out from Sumeru City and seek refuge in a remote town. It was risk, sure, but it was your only hope.
After an hour or so you had made your way to a small village on the outskirts of the capital. It wasn’t the ideal place, but it was your only option for the night. You was so kindly offered the spare bed by a lovely elderly woman. She didn’t ask why you looked over your shoulder every minute and that you were thankful for.
You packed your things and thanked the older woman for her kindness and went on your way.
After hours on the road your legs felt like jelly. You stopped by a abandoned house and rested on the little bench by the overgrown vegetable garden.
You woke up by the sounds of footsteps coming your way. A shadow blocked the sun.
“I must say you have slightly developed, but unfortunately you are still as predictable as ever” Alhaitham shook his head. “The elderly woman you slept at told me everything as soon as I explained the situation” his lips widened into a grin. “She thanked my for looking after such a helpless woman such as yourself.”
Strong arms picked you up and held you tight against his strong chest. “Let’s go home”.
Ayato
Ayato was a sly man. With his white clothing he looked like an angel, but that was far from the truth. You had many times heard him command the Shuumatsuban to get rid of the clan’s enemies. You knew the katana that rested by his hip when he was out on public duties, had slaughtered many.
You were afraid. Not only by him in himself, but afraid of his power and actions. That’s why you climbed over the tall walls that shielded the Kamisato residence from the outside world. Your ankles buckled under you as you landed and you whimpered out in pain. After you had collected yourself, you made a run for it. The ninja’s that were stationed around the estate had without doubt already spotted you. You hoped that they went to report to Ayato instead of chasing you down.
The way down to the beach was rocky and dangerous. Like a wild goat you quickly made your way down thanks to the adrenaline that pumped through your veins. The old rowboat was in the same stop just as you had recalled from an evening stroll with Ayaka along the beach. To your luck the two paddles were still there. You pushed the boat with all your might to the shore. The saltwater cold against your bare feet.
The swish of an arrow stopped you in your tracks. You looked down and saw it sticking out from the side of the boat. The hole was not that big, but it would cause your boat to leak in enough water for it to sink before you had made it to safety.
“Seize her!” a Shuumatsuban with high standing ordered.
A man with his face covered dragged you away from your boat and bound your wrists behind your back.
When you looked up at the cliff you saw Ayato looking down at you. He made his way down slowly and dread filled your veins.
He stopped in front of you and lifted your chin with a finger. “Did you have fun?” he leaned his face closer, his breath fanning your face. “Do not forget that I have eyes and ears everywhere”.
“Now let’s get you home. I will make sure you won’t slip through my fingers again. Though I must say your little attempt humoured me”
Baizhu
Tricking the little zombie girl made you feel horrible, but it was your only ticket to freedom. The green haired doctor had feed you herbs that made you weak and depended on his care. You had seen the label on the little bottle containing the medicine. So when he was out researching some herbs, you went through all the medical books he had in his libraries in search of the antidote. After much time and countless books you finally figured out the antidote.
You talked to Qiqi alone when Baizhu was busy treating a patient. You explained that he needed some herbs and told her that she had to deliver them to you and not her guardian. After some convincing she agreed. You crossed your fingers that she would remember and not slip up.
To your joy Qiqi had indeed remembered. The herbs tasted awful, but it was a small price to pay. It didn’t take long before you felt the medicine Baizhu had given you wear of. When he came to check up on you, you pretended that you were still weak. You asked him to go get some more medicine and he did as you said. When the green haired man left, you quickly tried to pry the window open. It was slightly jammed, but with your new strength you managed. Finally you had escaped the snake’s nest.
Your feet moved fast as you ran down the many stairs. You had to turn Baizhu to the authorities for his crimes. Just as you had made it down the stairs you bumped into someone. You didn’t need to look up to understand who it was.
“You will catch a cold running around like that” his voice cold as ice. His fingers lifted up your chin. “Tricking Qiqi really was a low move. That poor child was absolutely devastated to come home to an empty house. As for me I must say I am deeply disappointed. I have made it very clear that you will not manage without me.”
His lips curled up into a soft smile. “Let’s go home my darling. I will make some tea.”
Capitano
The first Harbinger was worshipped throughout the whole snowy nation. His underlings held great respect for him. He could be cruel and bloodthirsty, but to you he had a soft spot for.
Boots hammered against the ice ground. You knew you wouldn’t be able to run away from them, but you would not give up so easily.
As you made your way through the thick pine forest you started to regret your decision, but it was too late. As you came to the end of the forest you were surrounded by soldiers. Their spears raised towards you, stopping you in your tracks.
The sound of hooves reached your ears. The soldiers parted and bowed deep. On a tall black horse sat Capitano. Even with his face hidden by his black helmet, you could feel his intense gaze.
The stallion came to a halt and his rider dismounted. The snow crunched underneath his heels as he made his way towards you. His height towering over your trembling form. “You are all dismissed” he barked out. The soldiers bowed before they marched down the hill.
He stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. The ice cold wind howling against the tree tops. The dark haired man finally spoke “You broke my trust. Criminals deserve to be punished.”
With a swift motion he threw you over his shoulder and held you in place with his arm. He mounted his horse and squeezed his heels against the animal’s flank.
The Harbinger’s hold on you was tight and as suffocating as his presence. As you watched the landscape blur together you realised that you would never escape him.
Childe
The sound of children’s laughter could be heard in the distance. The small fishing village Ajax’s family resides in was remote. The river that ran across it ice cold and filled to the brim with fish. You crept as quickly as you could between the trees that surround the village. To your dismay Childe’s childhood home was just by the border which meant that the red head knew the woods like the back of his hand.
You winced as you heard Teucer calling out for his brother. The little child had noticed your disappearance.
You picked up your speed and ran as fast as your legs could carry you. It was difficult with the heavy snow, but you had to keep going.
A flash of red stopped you in your tracks. You quickly hid behind a rock and held your breath.
“It’s not nice to run away” a chirpy voice said. Childe.
Of course he found you. It was only a matter of time. His soft laughter rang throughout the woods. He was close. Too close.
Suddenly he jumped onto the rock you had hidden behind. You yelped and backed away. He grinned as he looked down on you. His eyes wide and crazed. “If you wanted to play hide and seek why didn’t you just say so?” he laughed. His laughter chilling.
He jumped down and landed just a few centimetres from your legs. He bent down and dragged you to your feet. “Teucer, Tonia and Anthon are all waiting for you back home. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them would you?” he tilted his head and faked a sad expression.
He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. “When we get home after our visit here, I will never let you leave my side. Is that understood?” his voice low. He chuckled as he pulled back to study your expression. “That frightened look of yours is really something. Makes me wanna eat you up” he kissed your cheek. “Don’t make me lose my cool, okay?”
Cyno
The sun was bright and high. The heat was unbearable and you regretted not seeking shade. The sand danced across the dune as the wind gave you some mercy from the heat.
In front off you on the scorching sand laid the lifeless bodies of the eremites that had helped you with your escape from the general. Blood coloured the sand red and the ruins surrounding you were splattered in red. The metallic sand made you dizzy.
Cyno stood before the bodies with his back turned to you. His white hair was coated in red. His strong muscles made him look like a god as he stood there with his bloodied spear. He turned to you. His face blank.
“I am sorry you had to see that” his expression apologetic.
He planted the spear in the ground and walked towards you slowly like he was afraid of scaring you. He squatted down so that he was on your eye level. You pulled your legs towards you as much as you could.
“Why did you run away?”
You only stared at him with big eyes. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His head piece long discarded. “The desert is a dangerous place. You have no idea how scared I was when I noticed your disappearance” his eyes sad. “When I saw you among those eremites… I have never felt such anger. I had no choice but to eliminate them. Those who try to take you away from me deserves punishment. I did the right thing with ridding the world of such people” his hands was trembling in anger.
“I will make sure no one tries to take you away from me again. I will always be by your side” he kissed your tears away with a soft smile.
Dainsleif
Dainsleif had long lost his sanity. At least when it came to you. That much was clear.
You had just managed to escape him while he slept. The ruin you had chosen for your resting place for the night was eerie quite. Even the monsters were gone. You would have found it weird had you not been on the run. You manoeuvred through the dark ruins as fast as you could. After a while you made it out.
Your relived expression fell as you took in your surroundings. The monsters you had disappeared were now standing in front of you. You slowly backed away as you thought up an escaped plan. Just as you were about to make a run for it, dark blue power lit up the area in front of you. With movements faster then what your eyes could see, the monsters were slain.
The blond traveler looked at you with a look that sent shivers down your spine. He flicked off the blood that coated his blade as he made his way towards you.
“I expected more from you. To believe you so ignorantly took the bait is truly disappointing” he shook his head. “But on the plus side, I have now proved to you that you will never make it without me. Let me be your protector. Let me take care of you” he kneeled in front of you as he took your small hand in his and kissed it gently.
You could only cry silent as the Twilight Sword led you inside the ruins. Dainsleif was a man of his word and you knew very well that he would never break his promise to himself.
Diluc
The winery was a beautiful place. When you first arrived you thought it looked like something straight out from a fairytale. You could not be more wrong as you soon learned.
Diluc was a desperate man. He had tricked himself into believing he was your saviour and he would do anything in order to protect you. If he had to kill someone in order to do so he would not bat an eye.
You had escaped through the cellar door and out the cellar window. You had been unsure if you fitted through the window, but to your surprise you fitted like a glove. The moon casted a pale light against the manor and it made you pause in your steps by its beauty.
The stables were empty just as you had expected. You tacked up the chestnut mare Diluc had gifted you. You kissed her forehead as you collected yourself. He would come after you.
As the mare galloped through the dense forest you could hear the distant shouts from Diluc. You gritted your teeth as you made your horse run faster.
Just as you thought you had made it, you heard the dreaded screams of his hawk. You had lost.
Your eyes were heavy as you slowly gained consciousness. You were tied to the desk chair inside his bedroom. Your bindings was of the finest red silk. You shivered at the similarities between you and a neatly wrapped present. In front of you were a highly distressed red haired man. He was walking back and forth, muttering something to himself.
“How could I be so careless as to not look better after her… I am a fool” he hissed to himself.
After a few minutes he stopped and turned to you. His expression softened as he cupped your face. “I apologise for the bindings, but it is necessary. You could be hurt you know?” his voice soft, but serious. “I will never let any harm happen to you. Ever.”
Dottore
The doctor’s blood red eyes always sent shivers down your spine. Even though he was human, he seemed like anything but. His embraces felt like a cage and his sweet words like poison. It didn’t take you long to understand why he was the most feared man in the entirety of Teyvat.
Dottore held you within his estate and refused to let you leave. Heavily armed guards guarded your chambers. You had tried to convince them to let you go and the next day you were delivered their served head on a platter. Dottore was cruel that much was obvious.
You knew you could never outsmart Dottore. He was one of the smartest beings on the plant and he never pretended not to be. If you couldn’t trick Dottore, you would trick the servants.
The long hallways in Dottore’s mansion were dark and empty. You sneaked through the manor as quietly as possible. With the key you had stolen clutched in your hand you made your way to the garden door. You twisted the key in the keyhole and pushed the door open. Cold air filled your lungs. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the snow filled landscape.
Your freedom was however short lived.
“If you take a step outside of that door I will behead this woman” a deep voice reached your ears.
You froze and slowly turned. There in the doorway stood the Harbinger. His raven-like mask were nowhere to be found. His hand was wrapped around the neck of the maid who you had stolen the key from. Her face was filled with fear and she looked at you pleadingly.
As much as you longed for freedom, you could not bear to have the blood from someone else on your hands. You walked back in and locked the door with a lowered head. You placed the key in Dottore’s waiting hand.
He slipped the key onto his pocket with a smile. “Good girl.”
“However…. I cannot let such an action go unpunished” he tck-ed. He threw the maid across the room. Her back hit the wall with a loud thud.
“I have given you all a specific rule you all must follow. I have made what would happen if you would ever break it quite clear, have I not?” his voice as cold as the unforgiving landscape that surrounded the estate. The maid muttered a “yes lord Harbinger”.
The blue haired man scoffed and turned to you. “I suppose I should teach you a lesson” his eyes held nothing but cold determination.
With three long strides he stopped in front of the maid. Her eyes filled with horror. He pulled out a sharp and sleek scalpel and slight her throat in a precise motion. “You deserve much more suffering, but I don’t want me darling to be witness to that so this would have to do” he sneered at the maid as she gurgled on her own blood.
He threw the scalpel and wiped his hands on his pants. “Let’s get you back to your chambers shall we.”
He snaked his arm around your waist and led you out of the hallway. “I trust that you will stop your escape attempts and accept that you belong here with me” his voice smooth like honey.
Gorou
The general of the resistance was a generous man. He always looked after his soldiers and treated them with respect and you were no different. He loved you with his entire being, that much was certain.
He never brought you to the frontlines. You were to stay at the base with a few trusted soldiers that looked after you. They all knew about your situation, but no one cared. They all were just glad that the general had someone who brought him comfort through the tough times.
As the soldiers exchanged posts you were able to sneak out of the cabin. You did not get far before a certain brunette had tracked you down.
His big cerulean eyes wide as his whole body tensed. “Why are you out here?” his big eyes not blinking once. His ears alert.
“You didn’t try to leave right? It must be something else? Right?” his voice raised. His fangs visible as he sneered.
He gripped your hand tightly as he dragged you back to the camp. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but I need to keep you safe” he looked at you with a sad expression as he hurried back to the camp.
The hybrid had always been extremely overprotective to the point it suffocated you. He always told he did what he did for your own good.
The next nights he held you tightly in his arms as he slept. His fluffy tail wrapping around your leg in a protective manner.
Heizou
The detective had locked you up in his own home, claiming it was a way to protect you. Every door and every window (and some drawers) had complicated locks on. Only a few doors and drawers were unlocked.
Heizou was out on a detective job so you were left all alone. This was your chance to get out. You knew all to well that the detective most likely would track you down, but you could not let such an opportunity pass.
The puzzle that was the lock-mechanism on the front door seemed different. Heizou did have the habit of changing them so you didn’t think too much of it. The puzzle was tricky, but after a while you were able to figure it out. The door unlocked and you squealed in joy.
You hadn’t come far before someone wrapped their arms around your shoulders. “Boo” he whispered into your ears causing you to yelp.
“Aww… Did I scare you now?” his tone mocking. He leaned his entire body weight onto you causing you to stumble. He chuckled at your shuffling and poked your cheek. “I’m glad you passed my little test sweetheart” he purred.
You regained your senses and pushed him off. You glared at him as he laughed.
“You really are entertaining aren’t you? You thought that I would ever let you go… Now that’s just too funny!” he wiped his tears as he laughed.
“With your naivety, you are better of with me” he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. Your noses almost touching. He cupped your cheeks and smiled at you gently. “I will take care of you, darling.”
Itto
The brutish oni was really clingy and always felt the need to have you glued to his side. Getting alone time was nearly impossible, but you managed when he was out organising a onikabuto match.
While the white haired man was busy making posters with his gang, you snuck out of the house. Which was surprisingly easy when he wasn’t home. The city was lively and the lit lanterns flickering in the wind. Stars littering the clear night sky. You sneaked among the multiple food stalls. The smell of fried fish filling the air.
The sound of a booming laughter made your limbs freeze to the ground. You could recognise that laughter everywhere. You turned your head and your eyes widened in fear at your confirmed suspicion. Before a dessert stall stood Itto with Mamoru. “We gotta get something for the gang. You brought money right?” the oni nudged Mamoru who muttered a “yes boss”.
You quickly hid behind a small group of someone who stood before the boba shop. Luckily you where shorter than the group and you were able to stay hidden.
“Wait… Why does it smell like [Name]?”
“I don’t know boss. Isn’t she home?”
Your heartbeat hammered against your ribs. You carefully peaked through the group. Itto was sniffing in the air, the action almost comical, had it not been for your predicament. His closed eyes snapped open. His red slit eyes met yours. His body tense like a hunting dog. His expression filled with shock. “Doll?” he called out.
Your feet moved before you even registered it. You sprinted down the street. Your sandals clicking against the ground. You didn’t need to look back to know that Itto was right behind you.
You jumped down the railing and you were thankful that the jumps wasn’t too high as you landed on the soft grass. Just as you made it behind a small building, a big hand grabbed your arm. You lost your balanced and was pulled flushed against a broad chest.
“Why are you outside?” his voice eerily quiet. “I thought I made it clear that it’s dangerous, you are not a big strong oni. Humans are so fragile and weak” he pulled you into a tight hug. His face pressed against your soft hair. “You better listen to me next time… or I would have to tie you up” he pressed a kiss on top of your head followed by a soft “I love you”.
Kaeya
The Calvary Captain’s office was quite save from the sound of the captain’s pen scribbling. He hadn’t acknowledged you since he brought you inside his spacious office. His silence was scarier than his anger. He continued to write his report about some mission. The grandfather clock in the corner ticking.
After what felt like an eternity Kaeya looked up at you. He folded his hands and leaned his chin on them. His lone eye looking straight at you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You broke my trust did you not?” his honeyed voice terrifying. He tck-ed. “I am disappointed, but not surprised” he sighed. “I should punish you” he unfolded his hands and drummed two fingers across the rim of his empty glass.
“Why would I want to be locked up in some apartment?” you spat at the smug knight. His lips stretched up into a uncanny smile.
“Oh my…. You are more naive than what I gave you credit for” he chuckled. He stood up suddenly, causing the chair legs to scrap against the hardwood floor. He walked towards you like a stalking wolf. His eyes hungry and brimming with madness.
He stopped before you and leaned down on the arms of your chair. His face close to yours. Too close. His crystal blue eye scanned yours. You felt completely naked underneath his gaze. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know how you so foolishly conceived the knights guarding the house?” he laughed. His laughter sickening. “I dealt with them as soon as they reported back to me. It was a pain cleaning of the blood from my new boots, but some sacrifices must be made” he sighed.
He grasped your chin and leaned closer “I will never ever let you go.”
He straightened up. His expression lighthearted. “Now let’s get something to eat shall we?” he pulled you up with a tight grip. You looked down on his boots as he dragged you out of his office, noticing the few blood speckles he had missed.
Kaveh
The house Kaveh had constructed for you two was like a maze. With many corridors and doors, it was easy to get lost. He had built you both a home where he could play out his fantasy. He had kept you locked away in the mansion for months. Kaveh said it was to keep you safe and away from prying eyes.
You tried to force the window open for the 10th time, but to no avail. The window was still only a few centimetres open. Kaveh had proudly showed you the windows he had constructed that would not open more than a few centimetres. You had hoped that the design of the master architect had failed, but to your disappointment they had not.
Your eyes scanned the room till the landed on the doors to the winter garden. The glass were delicate and beautiful. You studied it closely till you came to the conclusion that they might be fragile enough to shatter. You picked up a stool that were standing in the corner. You lifted the furniture over your head and smashed the windows with all your might. The glass doors shattered into million pieces, looking like glittering diamonds. You dropped the stool and climbed through the window. You hissed as you cut yourself on the jagged pieces of glass that were still standing.
The winter garden was cozily decorated and it almost made you sad to leave it. The door out to the garden was locked which wasn’t a surprise. To your luck one of the miniature stone statues that resembled birds of all sizes, was perfect for shattering windows. It almost broke your heart at the thought of shattering the beautiful stained glass walls, but you had no choice. With all your might you managed to break it.
You ran as fast as you could through the garden. You had to find the exit before Kaveh came home from his meeting with his new client. As you were about to climb the tall fence that surrounded the property, a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down. You back hit the soft grass and straddling you were Kaveh. His eyes filled with betrayal and anger.
“How could you?!” his voice loud. His grip on your shoulders tightened. “After all that I have done for you?!” his features twisted into rage and hurt.
You tried to defend yourself, but your words died on you tongue. You had never seen Kaveh that angry. Fear filled you entire being and you felt sick. You casted a last look at the flush forest behind the fence. You knew that this would be your last time outside for a very long time.
Kazuha
With your breath ragged you ran through the dense forest. You had finally managed to escape the white haired samurai. You just needed to reach the beach and board one of the fishing boats that were docked at the dock.
You finally made it to the clearing that lead down to the beach. You waved at the fishermen and they turned to greet you. The dock was old and badly maintained. Splinters poking out and threatening to stab your feet. Just as you were about to ask the captain on the rather small boat, a gust of wind nearly knocked you down.
Red maple leaves fell gently down form the sky. The man in front of you moved quickly and elegantly. His movements like a dance, completely ensnaring you with his beauty. Crimson rain littered the air before it splattered your face. The warm liquid brought you quickly to your senses. Kazuha swiftly slashed his katana, slitting the throat of the captain. The red eyed man landed gently and wiped his blade with a handkerchief. The white fabric staining red in an instant.
He turned his gaze to you. His lips bore a gentle smile. In a blink of an eye he was right in front of you. He lifted his hand and gently wiped the bloodstains of your skin. “What is my delicate flower doing here?” his voice soft.
You swallowed. You had yet to let you eyes wander to the slaughtered boat crew. Kazuha’s eyes scanned yours. His long eyelashes fluttered. Tears ran down your cheeks in crystal clear rivers. You shoved him away as hard as you could. He stumbled back, but you knew he held back his strength. He had let you push him. “Get away from me!” your voice weak and trembling. You choked out a cry as your fell down to the wooden floor. The wood was soaked with red blood. You let your eyes wander. You wanted to throw up at the sight of the dead boatmen.
“You know I can’t do that. Without me you’re lost. I need to protect you. You are the only light in my life and I know we will live happily ever after” his voice was pained and vulnerable. His calloused hands gripped your shoulders in desperation. “I am never going to let you leave me” his smile crazed and not fitting his saddened eyes.
He wrapped his arms around you in an embrace that reminded you of a cage. His face nestled into your soft hair. “I will make you happy, just you wait and see.”
Lyney
A swarm of cards flew over your face, momentarily blinding you. You ducked your head, but lost balance as something caught your leg. It was a makeshift snare made of multiple colourful handkerchiefs. Playful giggles reached your ears.
“The surprised look on your face is to die for! So adorable!” his voice gleeful.
You quickly got back on your feet and was about to make a run for it when Lyney tackled you. You landed with a groan, the cobblestone hard against your back. Lyney pinned your hands to the ground as he sat on top of your midriff. He grinned as he looked down on you.
“It’s no fun in you escaping you know?” he tilted his head. He kissed your nose before he jumped off you. “You could at least be a little more creative” he shook his head in faux disappointment.
“Asshole” you sneered at him.
His cat like eyes crinkled in amusement at your remark. “How rude” he snickered.
Just as sudden as he had jumped you, his expression changed. His eyes colder than ice and his mouth a thin line. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you after him.
He unlocked the house he, his siblings and you resided in. He quickly locked the door after him and dragged you into your bedroom. He let go of your hand. You quickly stumbled as far away from him as you could.
“Why can’t you let me have nice things? Why [Name]?” his eyes narrowed. It was in moments like this that you remembered his role in The Fatui. His eyes held a dangerous glint that dared you to cross him.
Your eyes widened in horror. “No, no, no… Please Lyney!” you begged. Tears trialing down your cheeks and pooling down onto the soft carpet.
“You gave me no choice. This is the consequences of your own actions” he shushed you as he clasped the chain onto your left ankle. He gently kissed your tears away. “It’s only temporary, okay?” he gently stroked your cheekbone. “I love you darling, don’t forget that.”
Neuvillette
Even though the judge bore aesthetically similarities with the sea otters that lived in the Fontanian waters, he was not like them at all. They were sweet playful creatures, and the judge a selfish cruel man. His good reputation made you sick. If only the citizens of Fontaine knew him like you did.
He had kept you hidden and locked up in his beautiful home. That was until you had managed to convince the Melusine that was in charge of looking after you that day. At first she refused to let you out, but when you told her that you were going to buy a present for Neuvillette she yielded. If it was under other circumstances you would have felt bad for tricking her.
The bustling streets of The Court of Fontaine a familiar sight. You breathed in the air. Oh how you had missed the smell of new baked goods and the music of street musicians.
You knew it would not take long before Neuvillette would notice your disappearance. You had to get out of the city and onto an aqua bus before he sent the Gardes after you.
You bought a ticket with the money you had managed to steal from Neuvillette. You quickly made it up the stairs to the aqua bus station. The aqua bus was just about to depart when a group of Gardes blocked the exit behind you. You leaped for the bus only to collide with a broad chest. You could recognise that scent no matter where in Teyvat you found yourself.
You slowly raised your head. Neuvillette looked down at you with a furious expression. You had only seen that expression when he had caught you chatting with other men (it didn’t matter to him that your conversation was only friendly and nothing more). His lilac eyes bored into yours, stripping your soul naked.
“I told you to never leave the residence” his voice low and lazed with anger.
His horns glowing light blue. His hands balled into fists by his sides, clearly trying to ground himself. You lowered your head.
“We are going back at once and you better not make any commotions” his hand turned you around and firmly guided you to the lift. One of the Gardes reached out his hand in order to size you properly. “Get your filthy hand away from her” Neuvillette’s voice boomed.
The Garde tried to defend himself but was cut short by Neuvillette. “Leave at once or you will regret it” his teeth bared. His sharp fangs fully visible. The Garde bowed and quickly left.
Neuvillette’s hand tightened its hold on your shoulder. “When we get home I demanded an explanation as to why you left your home” he whispered into your ear.
Pantalone
Pantalone was sitting on a expensive leather chair. His shoes polished in a way you could see your own reflection in the black leather. In his gloved hands was a black pistol with details in white gold.
In front of him on the cold polished hardwood floor knelt a man. His hands were bound behind his back. His eyes were looking pleadingly up at the Harbinger. He was a guard whom you had befriended. He had so kindly helped you escape before you both were caught red handed by the ninth Harbinger.
The black haired Harbinger turned his face towards you. “This is what he gets for taking what’s mine” his voice as smooth as velvet. His eyes dark and his smile cunning. He turned towards the bound man. “I must admit that I am a rather greedy man. I really hate when people try to take what’s mine” he sighed and clicked his tongue. He flicked the safety and pointed the pistol at the guards head.
“No!” you screamed as you desperately tried to get lose from your silk bindings.
Pantalone shushed you gently. “He asked for it my love” his voice sweet as sugar.
“Any last words?” he smiled. “Hmm… I don’t think you deserve any” he fired the pistol before the poor guard had the time to open his mouth. Pantalone’s smile stretched into a sickening grin. The man’s brain splatters onto the expansive rug.
You screamed as you tried to swallow the bile. “How could you?! You disgusting monster! I hate you!” you screamed while thick tears ran down your cheeks.
“Don’t cry my dear. He’s not worth shedding your lovely tears over” Pantalone kneeled in front of you. His eyes gentle. “I will make sure that no other men like that ever gets between us. You are mine and nothing will ever change that” his voice low.
Pierro
The sorcerer had forced you to your knees with his magic. You could feel the power tugging at your mind and it hurt. His pale eyes boring into yours. “Have you forgotten your place?” his gruff voice echoed inside the ballroom.
You glared up at him unable to do anything else. He kneeled before you and harshly lifted your chin. His expression harsher than the unforgiving climate outside. “I must say I’m utterly disappointed in your behaviour. You should be ashamed.”
You tried to get control over your limbs, but to no avail. Your words died on your tongue and you were unable to make any sound.
The white haired man scoffed and released his hold on you. His magic released you completely and you crawled backwards and away from him. Creating as much distance as possible.
The Jester rose to his feet and dusted off invisible dust from his elegant robe. “If you were anyone else I would have executed you for your crime. Do not forget that our relationship was blessed directly blessed from Her Majesty Herself” he sneered.
He hauled you up to your feet, his iron grip bruising. He dragged you down the corridors and up the many stairs to your chambers. He slammed the door open and dragged you inside.
“Think over what you have done. I don’t take such humiliation lightly” his eyes narrow as he looked down on you. “Don’t think you will ever get away. You belong to me and that’s final” with that he closed the door and locked it making you all alone.
Sethos
You ran over the dunes as fast as you could. You had to be fast. Behind you you could hear Sethos voice as he called for you. To your misfortune the free spirited man was fast. Extremely fast. Your sandals were filled with sand, but you couldn’t care less.
Suddenly it became quiet. Too quiet. You hid behind a rock formation and listened. Suddenly a figure slid down the dune to your left and leaped on top of you. He was precise enough that make sure you landed on the sand and not the rock behind you. His wild hair rustling in the wind.
The sight in front of you reminded you of the time when he swept you away and locked you away inside the temple. He had first gotten to know you when he visited Sumeru City. He had told you it was love at first sight and he asked you to come and visit the desert with him. You were taken aback by his impulsiveness, but you soon grew accustom to it.
“If you wanted to play hide and seek you could have just said so” his entire weight on you. He was silent for a few moments. His crystal green eyes scanning yours. You could see his gears turning. “Don’t tell me you tried to run away from me…? You would never do something like that? Right?” his voice lazed with disbelief and desperation.
In a swift movement you were brought to you feet. His hold on you right and you wondered if he thought you would fly away if he let go. “Let’s get back to the temple” his voice back to its jovial self, but his eyes clouded with obsession and desperation.
Thoma
The white mop mopped over the hardwood floor in a fast motion. The white colour quickly staining red. A crimson red pool of blood was spilled across the floor. The sight made you sick. Bile raising up in your throat. You were sitting in the coroner of the room , hugging your knees. The blonde man stopped his mopping and raised his head and looked at you. His face splattered with blood. He sighed and leaned the mop against the wall.
“I am so sorry you had to see that, my angle” his green eyes pleading. He crouched in front of your trembling form. He gently caressed your cheek.
The friendly and kind housekeeper was gone and replaced by a green eyed monster that slaughtered anything in its path. He had beheaded the kind men that helped you escape from the Kamisato estate.
“I am wounded that you tried to leave me. What did I do wrong?” his eyes glossy.
You locked me away you wanted to say, but you kept your mouth shut.
“My master has been kind and let us stay here together and this is your gratitude?” his voice slightly raised. His eyes scanned over your form and landed on your bloodied nightdress. “I have to get that off” he muttered as he quickly rose. His movements frantic as he looked for a washcloth.
“My gratitude?” your voice shaky, but loud. “You have taken everything away from me!” you stood up. Your legs shaky.
Thoma’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your tongue” his voice cold.
You swallowed. You understood now better than anyone why so many feared the “fixer”.
His hold on the washcloth tight. His knuckles whiter than snow. “Go to your room and change. I will wash your nightdress later” he spoke through gritted teeth.
Your colour drained from your face as you hurried to your room. Your bedroom seemed more like a prison than anything else.
Tighnari
The forest watcher had always lectured you about various plants and their effects and benefits. At first you thought it was boring, but after awhile you learned to use it to your advantage. Taking herbs from Tighnari’s beloved collection was tricky, but not impossible. You had read through every single book he had on botany. Your plan was bulletproof.
Tighnari had gently sipped on the cup of tea you had brewed for him while he read through some reposts. He had then fallen limp over the kitchen table. You checked his pulse and breathes out in relief when you felt his pulse against your fingers. You wanted to escape from the obsessed fox, not kill him.
You rummage through his pocket for his key. The key was heavy in your hand and it was almost a surreal feeling when you twisted it in the lock. The air fresh and welcoming. With a last look at the unconscious man you began your journey.
The rainforest was tricky to navigate in, but luckily you had stolen both a map and a compass from Tighnari. Yet again you were glad you paid attention to his boring lectures. The sound of branches snapping made you stop in your tracks. The hair on the back of your neck rose.
“Poisoning me…” his voice echoed through the treetops. “Your audacity is truly something” he sneered. “Look at me when I’m talking to you” his voice nearer.
You slowly turned around and were met with a angry hazel eyes. His long ears pinned back in anger. His arms folded over his chest.
“The rainforest is dangerous. Let’s get back” you could see he was holding back his fury. His jaw clenched. He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. “I guess I have no choice…” he sighed as he stalked towards you.
Quicker thank you could register he had trapped you within his arms. “I will never let you go. I’m just trying to protect you” he whispered against your ear.
Something pricked your neck. Your eyes widened and darted to Tighnari’s. “It had to be down. Consider it… pay back” he supported your body as you lost consciousness.
Venti
The anemo archon was an eerie man. He was all smiles and friendly laughter among the crowd disguised as Venti the bard, but with you he was like a completely different person. Sure he was still easygoing, but his obsession and possession overshadowing anything else. He had told you many times with a playful smirk that he was undoubtedly the weakest archon. You never believed him. You had seen with your very own eyes what he was capable of doing to those he thought was undeserving of your attention, but you had yet to see his full potential. Though you must admit that you rather did not wish to witness that.
He kept you in the ruins of Stormterror’s lair. He had made the ruin as liveable as possible and even quite cozy. He treated you like royalty and gave you everything except freedom. You thought it was rather stupid considering he was the god of freedom.
Escaping the ruin was almost completely impossible considering the wind shields that surrounded it and the dragon that acted as a guard. When you finally managed to escape and run over the grassy meadows you were so happy you cried.
Your tears clouded your vision causing you to become less aware of your surroundings.
Strong wind slammed against causing you to lose balance. There in front of you were Barbados. He was not in his usual clothing, but rather in a godly outfit. White big wings flapping behind him. His cerulean eyes glowing intensely in the night. He was completely silent, but you felt the anger oozing out from him.
You were completely frozen to the ground and you were unsure if it was his doing or your fear taking over. You wanted to explain yourself, but your voice failed you completely.
With a gust of wind you were swept up into his arms. His arms strong and squeezed you flushed against him. His wings flapped silently as he soared through the air. High up in the air you were able to see Mondstadt City and you quickly came to the realisation that you would probably never step a foot inside its gates again.
Wanderer/Scara
In front off you was a raging man. His eyes wide and filled with fury. His hands held anemo power which he sliced through the merchants that had guided you through the tick rainforest. Wanderer’s hair was slicked back with blood. He delivered the last strike to the merchant before he landed. He slowly turned around to face you. His hands shaking with anger.
You opened your mouth, but quickly shut your mouth at his raised hand. “Those lowlife who think they can take you away from me” he laughed manically. “How dumb can you be?” Wanderer sneered through laughter. “Because you would never leave me right? After all I have been through? Right?” his eyes crazed as he continued to spew nonsense. “We are destined to be together. It’s my right. How dare they to take that away from me?! I should revive them just so that I could kill them again” his laughter sounded almost forced.
He wrapped his arms around you. You could feel tears against your neck as he wept. You were astonished by his vulnerability. It almost made you pity him. Just almost.
He quickly regained his composure and roughly wiped his tears on his sleeve. “Let’s go home…” his voice distant.
The journey back had been quite. When you finally arrived back he shoved you inside. His eyes wide and intense. “You have no idea how much I wanna lock you up in a cage right now” he muttered. His porcelain white hand tightly gripping yours. “I will make sure so that you never leave me. I need you. I need you so much it hurts. So don’t ever try and get away.”
Wriothesley
You had long planned your escape from The Fortress of Meropide. Unlike the other inmates you were completely innocent. You had been wrongfully imprisoned on the request of Wriothesley. You had gained the trust of some of you fellow inmates and they promised to help you escape. You had chose the pipe cleaning day as your day of escaping. All went smoothly and exactly as planned.
The only step left in your plan was descend into the waters that the pipes were connected too and swim out to freedom. After that you had to avoid the detectors, but you were confident in your diving abilities.
As you were saying your thanks to the kind inmates, the sound of heavy boots against metal echoed in the pipes. In the opening of the pipe were Wriothesley. His imposing figure sending shivers down you spine.
The metal decorations on his outfit clattering with each step. The handcuffs on his hip catching the light. His icy eyes held an unreadable emotion. “Well well… What might this ruckus be?” he tilted his head and placed his hands on his hips. His tone held a dangerous edge to it. Wriothesley eyes glued onto yours and completely ignoring the others.
A bottomless pit formed in your stomach and you almost threw up. You swallowed the taste of vomit. Your freedom was so close, yes so very far.
“Are you aware your sentences are going to be so much longer?” his lips curled up into a little smirk. “I thought you were smarter than this” with two steps he reached you. He hooked off his cuffs and cuffed your wrists. “It seems you need a more secure cell… Luckily I know just the one” he leaned closer to your ear “I will make sure you always stick to my side”.
You had never regretted something more than your little escape attempt. The new so called cell was a bedroom connected to the Duke’s living quarters. Your freedom had never been so distant as it was now.
Xiao
You ran as fast as you could. The landscape blurring together as you navigated through the forest. You had to escape him. Or at least try. Tue bamboo forest was dense and dark. Your human eyes struggled to see clearly. You could hear birds fleeing in the distance. He was close.
You had ran away when you learned that he had slaughtered the man who had so kindly gifted you sun pork buns. The adepti had let you run first, which surprised you. Even though you didn’t understand why, you were grateful for your head start.
Suddenly a green black cloud appeared in front off you. You tried to turn in your heel to flow, but was stopped when a hand grabbed your collar. You were momentarily unable to breath. It was only when he loosened his grip that you were able to gasp for air.
“I don’t understand you mortals. I only do what I have to protect you. I give you everything you need and more” he sounded confused and annoyed.
“Without me you would not have managed to survive. At all” he spun you around so you could face him. “Did me killing that man hurt you that much? I have killed many of you near acquaintances and you never batted an eye…” his voice trailed off as he was lost in thought. “Could it be that you never realised? Never mind. It doesn’t matter now” he sighed.
At the thought of him killing your near friends without you knowing made you sob helplessly. He only started at you in confusion.
He clicked his tongue before he hauled you over his shoulder. “I need to ask Madame Ping for a tea pot it seems…” his voice a frustrated groan.
Zhongli
You had sought shelter at a kind older couple. You needed to regain your energy before you fled the city. The woman was kind and gladly cooked for you. She completely denied your help. You stayed at their house for two weeks before the older woman knocked at your bedroom door and told you a friend of her husband was coming to visit.
The atmosphere in the living room was as tense as it could get. In front of you were Zhongli. He was the friend the couple had spoken so warmly about. The brunette was sitting in the sofa besides the woman, one of his legs over the other. His hand elegantly holding a cup of tea. His reptile eyes staring you down intensely.
You felt like sinking into the floor. Your hands trembling as you took a sip of the tea. The bitter taste doing nothing to soothe your nerves.
“I don’t know if you are aware, but I and miss [Name] know each other’s very well” his smile sharp. To hear your husband speaking in such manner made your heart beat against your chest.
You knew it was unwise to go against Morax and his contracts, but you had no choice. He had tricked you into signing the contract that would imprison. Zhongli had terrified you before you knew of his identity as the Geo Archon, but when you found out about his identity you were absolutely petrified.
Zhongli hummed at a joke the man had told. His golden eyes never leaving yours. His lips twisted up into a grin which revealed his sharp fangs. With the golden light from the sunset outside he looked even more inhuman than ever before. You felt small and utterly helpless before him. You dreaded his punishment that you knew would income when he brought you back.
After an hour and an half had past Zhongli excused himself. “I must take my leave now. [Name] you should come with” his order clear as day. He smiled to the couple and bowed in courtesy.
You swallowed and nodded. You thanked the couple for their hospitality and left with Zhongli.
When you were out of earshot he turned to you. “A broken contract is no laughing matter my dear” his hand gripping yours. “I will make it clear to you when we get back who you belong to” his voice deep and determined.
#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin#yandere genshin x female reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x female reader#male yandere x reader#yandere male#male yandere#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x female reader#genshin#genshin impact#childe x reader#scaramouche x reader#neuvillette x reader#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#alhaitham x reader#diluc x reader#x reader#yandere childe#yandere neuvillette#yandere alhaitham#yandere zhongli#yandere diluc#yandere scaramouche#yandere dottore
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Yandere Head Canons:
Hypnotic Affection
Yandere Merman x Mermaid Reader x Merman
TW: manipulation, hypnotism/ drugging, tentacles, kidnapping, yandere themes, delusional behavior, etc.
Since you were young, you had been betrothed to a shark merman named Marin. Marin was a cantankerous individual and was quite rude to you since you weren’t a shark mermaid. The only reason the two of you were even betrothed was so your clans would stopped fighting… yet you knew you’d be miserable with Marin.
You often attempted to court him with various shells you’d find but he’d always rebuff you. “These shells are too small, you’ll need something better than some measly clams to have me look your way longer than a few minutes.”
His words were always as sharp as his teeth. His clawed hands would always chuck your clam shells away no matter how pretty they were, it broke your heart. You really wanted to make this marriage work… maybe he’d budge if you found a conch shell?
You bowed your head to your fiancè before you headed off back toward the sea. Marin had no idea this would be the last time he’d see you in awhile…
You swam farther and farther from home until you spotted a conch. You were on the edge of deep sea territory, so it was best to be careful or else you’d get swept up in the current… but it would be worth it if you’d gift the conch to Marin and he’d finally accept you, right?
Your eyes lit up as you slowly swam towards it but you were quickly snatched up in large tentacles, a screech left your lips when the tentacles tighter around you.
A different merman quirked their head at you as they shimmied out from their hiding spot in the coral. “A-a mermaid? I’m sorry.”
The coral colored tentacles quickly released you before ghostly pale hands began to examine your body in worry. “I just thought you were a fish… I hadn’t meant to lunge at you.”
You were surprised by how shy this merman was, his hands trembled as he shakily checked your arms to make sure there were no marks.
“I’m perfectly okay, I’m (your name). What’s your name?” The octopus merman’s cheeks went aflame when you asked him for his name.
“I-I’m Ren! I’m an octopus.” Ren’s tentacles folded into one another as if they were comforting his nerves. “I still apologize for scaring you… I’ve never seen another mermaid before.”
You smiled at Ren and offered him your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ren. I hadn’t meant to trespass your area… it seems I wandered a bit too far.”
“I-it’s no issue at all!” Ren beamed, his dark eyes filled with stars while his tentacles flailed in excitement. “If you want, you can stay in my burrow with me! It’s quite comfy in here.”
“That’s so sweet of you.” (Your name) beamed at Ren who ushered her inside. The merman began to become a bit jittery when she accepted so easily. He’s been wanting a mate for so long… and now she was finally here!
Ren sealed his den shut as soon as she swam in. His tentacles blocked the exit watch a large boulder. “It’s to keep predators out!” Ren reassured her as he lead her around his small home. She marveled at the various jars and vegetation he kept. “I’m a sea witch.”
“Wow! That’s really fascinating!” Ren blushed again when you didn’t mock him for being a sea witch. It made his heart flutter. You were so sweet and that made him even happier… the only issue was that you were a different species than him…
“How about I show you a few tricks?” Ren was so happy when you accepted. The octopus merman showed you a very simple spell that made his home brighter. He was thrilled when you clapped your hands and smiled. Ren was so happy to no longer be alone… and he would never let you go.
Ren offered you a meal and you happily ate with him. The vegetation made your brain a bit foggy, but the taste was delightful. Had Ren always been so attractive?
Ren smiled at your sleepy form as you yawned. “Here, how about you spend the night? It’ll be so much safer for you that way.”
You nodded and allowed him to lead you into his den. His tentacles pulled you into an embrace as he smiled. This was just too easy…
You didn’t know how much time had passed since you entered Ren’s burrow since Ren would often feed you every time you tried to leave. Ren made you such lovely meals that you slowly began to forget what even brought you to this end of the sea. You really liked Ren, so why did you have to leave again? You felt as if there was some strange phenomenon happening around you and yet you didn’t care anymore… you liked being with Ren!
Meanwhile, Marin was in shambles. You had been missing for a week now. You always showed up every other day with your stupid smile as you held up some shells you found to him… you were never away from him for long. Marin searched your home in the anemones and he searched all the reefs around yet you were nowhere to be found… were you okay? You didn’t try to go find a bigger shell for him, did you?
You didn’t know it, but Marin always gathered up all the shells he’d throw. He just wanted to look tough in front of you… but now he knew it was a mistake. You wouldn’t risk your life for a shell when you were already engaged to him, right? You were already enough… you were always enough.
A month had went by and you were still missing. Marin now took more desperate measures of swimming out farther and farther… until he spotted a conch. The shark merman rushed towards the shell and began to examine the ocean floor until he spotted a sealed off den. The merman quickly swam toward the rock and searched for a crack until he could peek in there. The sight before him horrified him.
Ren’s purple appendages slid up and down your delicate tail as his hands grasped at your hips. “Would you like to be my mate, (your name)?” Your head felt so dizzy and you could only nuzzle into him. Ren smiled down at your obedient form. What a perfect mate you’d be! It was just so easy to ensnare you and to hypnotize you with his potions… it was all so easy-
Ren was shocked when the boulder to the den was shoved open and a shark merman lunged at him. Ren screamed when one of his appendages were bitten off by the shark. Marin’s large gray form quickly scooped you up and made a swim for it. Ren tried to snatch you back, but Marin easily evaded the tentacles. Ren began to scream as he tried to give chase, but the blood gushing from his missing arm would attract more sharks… he’d have to come back for you another day…
Marin didn’t look back once until the two of you were an hour away. The shark set you down on a rock as he began to examine your body for any wounds. “You’re okay now… we’re going home.”
You tilt your head to the side in confusion at Marin’s words. Who was this merman and why did he seem so familiar? “But I was home? I live with Ren.”
Marin felt a sob rack through him before he bent down and pulled you into a hug. What had that octopus done to you? Marin would protect you this time, he’d help you get back to normal. “You’re safe now… you’re safe.”
You often sat in a trance in Marin’s den. It was as if you were in a whole other world despite being next to him, a world where Marin could no longer reach you.
“Look! I have all the shells you gave me on the walls.” Marin gestured to the various colorful clamshells with a smile. “I’m sorry I was mean before, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like you! I really do care for you, I swear.”
Marin was filled with hope each day when you’d glance at the shells but his hopes would always be dashed when you’d tilt your head off to the side. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Marin... I’m your fiance.” Marin was so frustrated that you couldn’t remember him. He had tried everything… from taking you to every spot you two grew up together to your old den, yet nothing clicked. You only ever wanted to ask about that damned octopus merman.
Marin often cuddled beside you when it was time to sleep. His muscular arms felt so strange around you compared to Ren’s slender ones. You really missed Ren…
“Psst, (your name).” You perked up when you heard Ren’s voice. You gave him a big smile before you slinked out of Marin’s arms. “Let’s go home.”
You quickly swam towards the octopus merman who scooped you into a tight hug. A big smile on his face when you accepted him. He almost felt bad for Marin if it wasn’t for the fact that the shark merman was the entire reason the two of you met! What a sucker…
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#yandere merman#yandere mermaid#yandere headcanons#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x you#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere male#yandere imagines#yandere concept#yandere content#yandere insert#yandere x female reader#yandere lovers#love triangle#yandere horror#tsundere yandere#shark mermaid#monster x human#yandere monster#tetraphilia#monster smut#mermay#monster fucker
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𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭
"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o
The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.
You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option.
“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.
The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.
What a bastard
“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.
”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”
His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.
He should’ve fought harder for you.
People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.
He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-”
“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.
The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.
The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.
“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.
You’re so close
“I forgive you…I forgive you…”
“I forgive you, Ambrose…”
Oh…
His name on your tongue….
His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.
“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”
.." Or shall I beg more?"
End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)
#help idk what im doing#yandere x female reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere male x reader#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x y/n#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere drabble#male yandere#soft yandere#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere blog#yandere rambles#yandere fic#x reader#oc x reader#oc x you#yandere male
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In the dungeon
yandere!king oc x fem!reader
Summary: after disrespecting him, you've found yourself in his dungeon. Edmund comes to visit you because he has heard that you haven't eaten in three days
Warnings: self starvation, punishment, toxic relationship,
Word count: 1.1k
He doesn't like it, but what choice does he have? If people found out that he doesn't punish his own wife, what would they think of him? That he's not a well respected leader because he can't even punish his own wife? No, he can't have that. He has to do it. But by doing it, he also feels pain, so it's a punishment for both of you. That's how he explained it.
You had disrespected him, belittled him and his masculinity. And now you're here. Easier said than done. Saying the words to him was easier than doing the time for them.
Your head hangs low as footsteps echo down the spiral stone stairs. You don't look up to see who it is, don't care who it is. Another guard to switch swift.
“Oh, my love …”
You look up. Edmund is standing on the other side of the metallic bars, wearing his clean, colorful clothes made out of the finest satin. He places a plate with a silver cloche on the bench beside him. You pull yourself up from the floor slowly, back sore from resting against the stone wall for eternity and stomach empty. Edmund's ice blue eyes follow your every step. It's not often that they contain any type of emotion, but seeing you like this brings out a deep worry that seems to make his eyes glow.
You drag yourself over to the door, which is nothing more than metallic bars. You hold onto one of the cold metal rods. Edmund places his hand over yours.
“The guards have told me that you haven't eaten in three days”, he says softly, as if you could break if he raised his voice even a decibel louder. “You can't do that, Y/N. You can't worry me like this.”
As if he would have eaten that stale bread and drink that moldy water, you think.
“Can I come up now?” you whisper. “I want to get out of here”, you cry weakly. “Edmund, please …”
Edmund shakes his head carefully.
“No, not yet”, he answers with a heavy sigh. “It's going to be okay, darling”, he reassures you softly, kissing the hand he's holding. “Soon, you'll be back with me, okay? Believe me, I want nothing more than to let you back upstairs and have you in my arms, but they would think I was incompetent in my role.”
He wipes one of your tears apologetically.
“Do you care more about your power than you do me?” you whisper.
He looks taken aback, unable to know what to answer.
“Don't be like that”, he says. “You know I love you more than anything else.”
But not enough, apparently, you think and sniffle.
He looks behind you, around the cell.
“I brought some food from the kitchen”, he says. “I want to see you eat it before I leave.”
He gestures for the guard to unlock the door as he bends down to pick up the plate. You back away from the door, finding your safe spot on the floor by the opposite wall. Edmund walks over, checking the floor before hesitantly sitting down.
“Do you have to sit on the dirty floor?” he mumbles dislikingly.
“I like it”, you reply.
“Alright, alright.”
Despite grimacing and dusting of his satin clothes, he makes himself comfortable on the hard, dirty floor and opens the cloche. The smell of boiled potatoes and marinated meat meets your nose, and the sight is even more exquisite. He takes out a silver fork from his pocket, stabs one of the potatoes and holds it to your lips. You open your mouth, letting him feed you. It tastes better than you remember it to. It has only been a week since you got locked down in the dungeon, but without anything to do, without necessities and comfort, the hours creep by. For all you could care, a month could have gone by. The only form of company you've had have been the rats crawling around on the floor, just big enough to squeeze through the metal bars. They bite.
“Tasty?” Edmund asks.
You nod. Anything that the kitchen prepares is delicious — or at least a thousand times better than the rock hard bread and dusty water.
“Good”, the young king says, pleased, feeding you another fork full of meat. “It makes me feel better to see you eat.”
Eating the food he has brought for you reminds you of how badly you want to vet out of here … and how much your comfort relies on Edmund.
Edmund wipes away a sauce smudge on the corner of your lips and sticks it between his lips to lick it off. You doubt he would do that to anyone else. Ever. He has certain liberties with you which he has with no one else. He can hug you, touch you, smile at you, joke with you. You give him life in a way no one can.
“You should see how restless my hours without you are”, he sighs and rolls his eyes. “I'm a walking bomb without you. I almost feel bad for my secretary.”
“Then let me back up …”, you whisper, a last attempt to try to plead with him. “Please.”
“I can't. Not yet. I've already given you special treatment and advantages no one else has gotten. If I let you back upstairs before an appropriate time my authority will be questioned.”
“I'm sorry, Edmund.”
Your voice is barely audible. His hand stops dead in its track on its way to your mouth. A drop of sauce falls down on the floor. You can see that it hit him right in his heart, shattering it.
“Oh, I know”, he reassures you and feeds you the piece of meat. “I know, darling. I believe you.”
You chew slowly, swallow slowly. The food seems to get stuck in your throat.
“Good girl”, Edmund praises. “You can hold out a little while longer, can't you? Just a few more days?”
You nod in defeat. What other choice do you have now that your pleading didn't work?
Edmund stands up. You follow him panicked, quickly reaching out and grabbing his hand.
“No!” you shriek. “Dont leave me. I don't want to be alone!”
“It's getting late”, Edmund answers. “I thought that I would let you get some rest.”
“No … not alone … please. Please stay. Just a little while longer.”
He thinks for a second. “Okay.”
You breathe out in relief. He sits down with his back against the wall, letting you fall asleep against him, wrapped in his warm, strong arms. Leaving him alone with his thoughts — his conflicting, torturing thoughts.
When you wake up the following morning by the sun shining through the little window pane you're alone, lying on the floor, covered by a colorful cape made out of the finest satin.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere fics#yandere king#yandere x female reader#female reader#yandere oneshot#yandere royal
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sweetheart
Yandere Emperor X Consort! (F)Reader X Yandere Crown Prince(platonic)
милашка-sweetheart according to google correct me if im wrong!
CW: kidnapped, reader is look down upon by the nobles, infantilize, forced pregnancy, dehumanizing, mentions of attempt suicide, false rumor, power imbalance, worshipping, delusional(?)
NOTE: Crown Prince is at the age of 16(he is your first/oldest son). Reader is around 36-38. Emperor is two year younger than the reader. Also I don't speak russian everything is google (the empire is not based on irl russian empire but a fantasy world like the manhwas/shoujou isekai we read) and english is not my first language you can clearly see when you read the story. This is purely a fiction and I do not mean to offend anyone.
I DO NOT CONDONE ANY ACTION IN THIS FICTION.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Running is not ideal for a 5 month pregnant woman like you.
When you tried to seek help from your parents for the first time, they never helped you because who would believe an illegitimate daughter who was frowned upon by nobles.
You are an illegitimate child of the duke and a humble maid who passed away shortly after giving birth, but despite this, you are a physically and mentally healthy child. You even managed to withstand the attempts of your stepmother and your half-sister to discredit you in the family, and didn't even find a help to your neglectful father who busies himself of taking home many women from brothel.
That was in the past but you were desperate when you ask for their assistance. However, you never heard from them ever since you bore your first child, Ize.
Ize your son. Your lovely crown prince son grew up to be like your husband with his teachings. You tried to persuade him to never listen to his father but he only shook his head and told you that all his teaching that he was learning from his old man was to protect you.
Afraid that it will stress you even more in this suffocating high walls to protect you during your pregnancy and well being, Ize-the crown prince would be willing to act like a little kid for you. He would occasionally brew you a cup of tea that you enjoy or give you a handmade gift, such as an embroidered handkerchief, to show you that he was thinking of you and that said skill you taught him when he was a child. Knowing the child, this kind of acts is for him appease the worries you have;he is different behind closed doors of your confined palace where your eyes and ears can't reach; your crown prince son is a different person who will be willing to shed the blood of others just for you.
And it seems that the morals that you taught him must have been thrown out of the window thanks to your husband.
So here you are after escaping from the hundreds gazes of a watchful loyal hounds around your palace you escape, it wasn't easy since you are carrying the emperor's second child. You heard on a passing by servants that the two tyrants had a meeting with the other nobles and the neighboring kingdom, this is a rare occurrence that the two left you alone. It took you an hour to escape the royal grounds before exploring around the town till you found a port that would take you to another country. This is your only chance to escape that suffocating palace that those two tyrants confined you in. Your Husband, Yuri can't leave you alone not when he found out that you are with his child-a second child at that. Even before you were pregnant with his first child, his wary gaze and infantilization to you had multiplied tenfold.
Your husband spread the rumors about you being mentally ill. But why would he do such a thing? You reflected to yourself and it devastate you to realize it was his scheme to prevent you from seeking help from his subjects to escape. Only the royal physician and your husband were aware of this bogus illness. It felt betrayal that he has to make that action so he can confide you more.
Your husband's scheme worked. Even your own son believed the spewing lies coming from his father, and the nobles never gossip about you as if it was a taboo ever since you were married to the emperor. Speaking ill about the emperor's consort was just as good as the reaper visiting you by the second you speak those words. Only praises coming from their filthy mouths were allowed.
No one bats an eye on you, even the servants who serves under you. They will bathe you, serve you food, refreshments, but none of them will engage or start a conversation with you. When someone last made an effort to assist your escape, a kind servant at that. The lowest mining pit, which is worse than death, The emperor bestowed upon them to be sent the servant's family, including the said servant. High ranked criminals labour in a pit there for 18 hours with a maximum 4 hour break the rest of the hour are for necessities like sleeping, with much less food and income. In short, a death torture for them.
You implore your husband to kill them rather than send them there, the only thing he said to you that it wasn't your fault they were sent there. Something along the lines of—"you were acting like this because of your condition. That servant was attempting to kill you." He told you that in front of other servants. Everyone compliments his action for 'protecting' you. His cunning red eyes looks at you that none of the servants and nobles noticed but you did. It was a warning for you to behave or he will do worse.
Yuri has never harmed you, physically. but he will harm others who want to separate you from him.
The only time you regret your decision is when you met Yuri—he was about to meet his demise by the hands of his brothers if it weren't for you stumbling to see him in the middle of the night on an alleyway of the tsvetok village struggling to breathe from the deep pools of his own blood. So you drag his half dead body into your abandoned chamber—which is rarely visited by servants—that your father bestowed for you when you were born. Aiding his deep wounds, helping him heal up, befriending him, falling in love—
You purse your lips and gave a small wince feeling your belly is starting to ache, the kick from your unborn child thumps under your long dress.
My child please, Now is not the time! you gently brush your belly soothingly before leaning on the lamp post that dimly lit the night. You sigh in relief when you felt the baby inside of you cease on kicking. Although you were a little further from the palace when you looked behind you, you still needed to move quickly. Right now, you assume that Yuri or a servant that was suppose to serve you had definitely find out that you were gone this afternoon and notify the knights and some of high ranking mage to find you immediately, but the sun had already been sunk by the evening. They must have been having a hard time finding you. A little more 18 minute walk and you'll be able to ride on the ship that will help you travel to another empire, or any nation.
"ort---s--ing!" you turn to your left to look one of the vendors of the nights were gossiping. A woman with her husband was panting, assuming he was running to deliver a news to his family. His cloth headband on his raggedy hair is soaking. He took a deep breath before repeating what he said earlier. A dread of fear rise from your throat as he uttered his next words,
"The Emperor's Consort is missing! The Emperor's knights are blocking all way out!"
You heart felt like dropping when you saw a nearby knight were looking one by one at the women nearby, specifically women who are similarly pregnant like you. Speaking of the devil, they are already here!
Knights in horses, mages running around the busy street. Some of them stopping women who has similar hair color as you to assess if they found the right person.
"Oh my! I'm hoping the consort is doing okay! She must have acted such way due to her failing mental state. The emperor must have been worried sick, I can't imagine the devastion look of the emperor especially their son!" said the woman to her husband.
You hid your hair with your cape and quickly blend in with the busy road of the night town. Muttering, "excuse me!", "Apologize!" As you force your way around the crowd. One arm around your belly to protect child, while your hand went to sling your bag with clothes and some gold coins. as you bump so many people on the crowd. You look edges of the town, at the gate, to see all the possible exits were starting to get block by the imperials knights and mages. You bit your lips frustration as you felt the hope of getting your freedom back is slipping away from your grasp.
Your plan of getting to the port has been discarded after seeing a two mage and three knights were on their way there. Even if you did go in town's gate the gatekeepers will inspect people who are exiting and entering.
But...
You look at the old man who was riding a donkey with his carriage towards to exit of the gate, fruits were laying under the cloth. An Idea quickly pop your head but you are desperate to leave this suffocating country so you have no choice but to execute it.
Your silent foot falls went behind on a slow moving carriage before climbing up silently and quickly, in your haste and desperation movement, you didn't feel as though you had torn your cape at the wooden edge of the carriage before taking the fabric that was covering the fruits that keeps them from dust and dirt. You carried a handful of fruits before slowly sitting down beside it then covering yourself with the said fabric and the remaining fruit fast enough before the knights from the gate of this region would notice you. You wince when one of the fruit hit your belly but not enough to endanger the baby.
"Have you seen this lady?" A man in his mid 60s look at the paper, he squint his eyes as he held his old lightly crack glasses to take a better look. Your (e/c) eyes look at the gapping hole of the carriage and gulp fearfully when you saw your portrait on the paper holding by the imperial knight.
"O-oh...sa-aw her!" you held your breath when the old man spoke. The two knights look at each other before listening to the next word of what the old man would say.
He lick his dry lips before continuing, his voice's struggling due to his old age, "If I-Im..not mistake-en the lady in the p-picture look like the lady I saw by the lampost o..on the rozahk street!"
You exhaled in relief since you mistakenly believed that the elderly man had just seen you, but he actually noticed you five minutes' walk from the gate to roza street. However, this would also let them know that you are actually close by.
The imperial knights gave the elderly merchant a nod as they hastily walked around the city, alerting a nearby mage to use a spell to track you. They quickly tell their subordinates for a new command.
You felt the carriage starts to move. Hugging yourself for reassurance especially at your upcoming baby that everything will be okay.
You weren't escaping just for yourself but for your second child that will be born. You don't want your kid to become like their older brother and learn from their father. Ruthless, and doesn't have a compassion to another human. You want your kid to have a brighter future, away from the blood shed. You hope that if you got caught or killed by your husband in the future. You will tell your second child to run away and never look back, when you are gone.
You ignored how uncomfortable it was to sleep in the fruits. You close your eyes and see the farm neighborhood that the carriage passed as well as the slowly dissipating kingdom that was beginning to appear as a dot on the horizon.
The abrupt shake of your ride woken you up. You hear noises outside the carriage and glance through the hole to see that light was creeping through, signaling that it was dawn but sun has yet to come in the horizon. What is happening?. You peek above the cloth seeing that you don't have enough visual on what's happening. A dusty road lay in front of you, and woods surrounded you. You turn around to look behind you and realize that the palace is no longer in sight. A sense of relief that you were indeed far from that prison.
A bunch of voices caught your ears, you turned to look to your right.
Your whole body went pale.
Your son-the crown prince was chatting with each of the roadside merchants who had just exited from their vehicle not far from where you were. The imperial warriors and mages that were conversing with the other sellers the same task as your son was doing just behind him.
You curse yourself, how did they come here to fast?
You need to leave before they notice that you are inside this carriage. Just as you swiftly escape your imprisonment. You carefully stood up, removing the fabric that was covering you and the fruits, ignoring the woozy and aches from your muscle pain for not moving too much from the entire night.
A creak was heard in your vehicle when you tried to climb down. Snapping your eyes back at them, to witness if they heard the mistake you made. To your relief, The prince and the other guards were still busy interrogating.
They didn't hear me..
You reach down and starts to stalk away from them, your hands were trembling. Stepping back to reach the wood just a 5 meters behind you. It didn't matter if you get lost in the woods, as long as they don't catch you.
No, you would rather live in a woods, in a forest where no one can reach you.
As you step forward carefully in to the woods, you didn't notice from your cautious and anxious state that your boots crack a twig, just like the cliché you previously read. The nearest knight snaps his head at the sound. He was perplexed before realizing that the woman from the paper in his hand resembles you.
"Her majes-"
You dash toward the woods. The imperial knights sought to catch up to you, as you heard him behind. You grab a nearby rock and shot it directly to his skull, and it hits him.
You ignored the yelp as he yells your honorific causing the nearby knights hear him and went for his aid, before they realize what he was yelling and starts to chase after you.
You felt the dress that was getting stuck on some of bushes and dried branches, resulting to have your dress to be ripped.
Heartbeat were thumping agressively, adrenaline were rushing around your body. One of your hands went up to your belly protecting it from getting injured despite your legs were now full of scratches and bruises from the twigs, and sharp edges of these woods. You feel your legs ache.
"Mother!" You faintly hear a galloping horses along with your son's voice behind you.
Your mistake was to look behind you while running away. You saw how your son and his guards were starting to gain just to bring you back to that hellhole. Your son Ize was reaching up his hand to take you back, his red orbs were full of concern and anxiousness.
"Mother! It's me,Ize! Please, slow down you will hurt yourself!"he yelled."Mother! Think about my sibling! Your child! Listen to me! Don't let this illness take over you!"
Poor child, he thought all of this nonsense that you are doing was because of your bogus illness.
You were about to stop when you saw a nearby cliff but a trunk made you tripped.
You screamed feeling a misstep when you realized you are falling, instinctively cradling your pregnant belly, protecting it as you roll down from the ground. A piercing scream was heard—from your son. Your head colliding to the three and it felt like your head would split open.
Your eyes were blurry from the impact. Touching your belly if there was injury. Atleast trying to feel your lower part if there was bleeding through your thighs other than your legs.
You look up at the steep cliff to see your son was sliding down, crying out your title as his mother. You saw his red orbs were full of tears as it glides down to his cheeks. The last thing you saw before your vision was consumed by the darkness was his hands reaching up to your head.
You were awoken by the sound of the chirping birds coming from the balcony.
You coughed, feeling the dryness from your throat. You eyes were blurry for a few minutes before clearing to see that you were back to the same imprisonment.
But....
It wasn't the same room you shared with your husband. Are you...even in the palace?
You took your time to assess your surroundings only to realize that the room has similarities of the royalties room that are exiled but it looked renovated, one of your husband's brothers used to live here before taking his own life. You felt grim about the thought of it.
After his brother's passing you heard from one of the maids that he turned it into a vacation palace for royalties.
It was different from the last time you saw it. It was much more cleaner and better. It looked good after it was renovated.
Wait, the baby.
THE BABY!
You eyes quickly gaze down to your belly. Hands quickly feeling around them, you exhale in relief when you felt a small kick from your stomach. You felt your tears at the edge of your eyes. It was a miracle that the heavens hadn't take your unborn child away.
I'm sorry baby...
They would have died from the stupidity you'd done!
You laid down to your right side of the bed and cradle in your stomach muttering a soft apologies and starts fluttering your eyes to go back to sleep.
But somethings not right. You felt like a pair of eyes watching you, looking at you.
Observing you.
You opened your eyes and look up only to see your pair of red eyes staring down at you.
Your husband, the emperor sitting on a wingback couch, his face resting at his hand while the elbow is resting at the arm of the couch beside him is a kettle with a cup that rest on top of the bedside table.
You feel your body tense up, you tried to get up and turn to look at your husband.
"Y-your majesty." You called but it sounded like a whisper. You don't know what he will do to you. Sure, he never hurt you physically but this is the first time you'd gotten far away from the place he imprison you in.
You gulped, will he hurt you this time?
"I-I'm... I.." you cannot come up a word,an excuse, what if he gets sick of you? What would happen to your child?
You felt your breath shorten. Tears are starting to swell up in your cheeks.
A rough hand brush on your cheeks before cupping it. You found your partner is already beside you on the bed.
He didn't speak he just let you weep as he brush away your tears. You stammer your words wanting to apologize. The emperor handed you a cup of water and you took it quenching the thirst from your larynx.
Once you drank it all, you hiccup trying to stop your tears from coming out. You felt his hands caressing your belly. "H-husband.."you gulped.
"hush,милашка."he commanded and you held your tongue and closed your eyes when he leans on your cheeks before engulfing you with his arms around you. You felt suffocating around him like a snake coiling around your body.
You feel tensed as he starts peppering kisses on your shoulders and neck before resting his lips to your earlobes, you shudder when he kissed it.
His right hand from your waist slid up under your loose sleeve before sliding it down, your emperor leaned down giving your shoulder a hickey. You whimpered trying to push him away but he hadn't budge an inch. Once he was satisfied he let your skin go with a pop before looking at the red mark he left.
The same hand went to brush your hair, tuck it behind your ear before leaning his forehead against yours. His red eyes held adoration, affection, but most of all obsession.
"милашка." He muttered closing his eyes sighing, he brush his lips against yours before deepening it.
He kept calling you, held you in his arms gently. The same arms that has full of blood that slay so many heads to get to the top of this food chain.
He laid you down before kissing every finger tips of yours and then clasping it with his rough hands as he called for you.
"милашка...."
".... my милашка..."
He pressed one kiss on your collarbone. "None of this is your fault..." He told you.
"... This illness will be the death of you."
Your heart broke for him. He really delude himself that everything you did to get away from him was because of your 'illness'.
"... Everything will be fine, darling. I will take care of you." He dampened his lips one last time onto your lips before leaving you in your new confinement.
#male yandere#yandere#yandere boy#yandere boyfriend#yandere male#yandere x reader#yandere x you#tw yandere#yandere bf#yandere imagines#yandere emperor x reader#yandere emperor#yandere prince#yandere lover#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#clingy yandere#male yandere x reader#scara writes#yandere x female reader#soft yandere#platonic yandere#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#scara writes oc
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Isekai’d yandere x f.reader
We’ve all heard about reader getting isekai’d into another universe and bonding with the characters, but what if it was the opposite and the yandere was isekai’d while reader’s just a background character.
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You were the mere daughter of a baron. You were pretty, yes, but nothing to gape in awe at. To summarise, you were nothing special. Then how come the heir of a grand duchy followed you around like a puppy seeking its masters attention? Especially since it was only the day earlier that he smitten with another young miss, who he’d declared with his actions was to become his future fiancée.
Yandere! Noble who suddenly approached you out of nowhere one day. You weren’t friends and had hardly ever spoken; to ask directions or work in pairs, perhaps. He was way too cheery speaking to you. It was completely out of character for him. Where did the normally stoic and unphased young man go? He was certainly not to be found here. No, this man chatted your ear off and did not understand that you wished to be left alone. It didn’t feel very safe anymore when all his admirers glared daggers your way. There was one you were especially afraid of. He was head over heels in love with her before. What has changed? You always saw them together and she was the only one he’d smiled at genuinely. Now he didn’t even spare her a glance.
Yandere! Noble who sought you out whenever he had free time. He wanted to accompany you in breaks between your classes at the academy, he wished to escort you to town and he even showed up outside your estate. His change in behaviour was puzzling, but not as much as the shift in his speech. What were these ‘bruh’, ‘sigma’ and ‘I’m cooked’? You didn’t understand any of it, no matter how much he used it around you. You suppose you were thankful he did turn it down a notch when in others company. You already had a hard time with it, you didn’t think it was necessary for others to suffer as well.
Yandere! Noble who had been shocked when they died and woken up in the world of their favourite romance game. They had read a lot of isekai novels but never once thought the thing was actually real. Wait, if this was their favourite game, then wouldn’t that mean that you were there too? Yes! Maybe they should thank Truck-kun for hitting them on their way to work. This was much better than any ordinary life a citizen could have. At first they thought they’d be stuck in the body of a villain or a side character, but they were pleasantly surprised to find themselves being the male lead of the game. He was rich, noble, influential and devilishly handsome. He had everything.
Yandere! Noble who immediately went to the academy to find you. When playing the game, they never found themselves attracted to the female lead, despite the fact she was modelled after the general population’s preferences. It just didn’t work for them. No, they liked you. Loved you even! It didn’t matter that you were nothing more than a simple background character. You were way better and cuter than any other love interest! You kept to yourself and didn’t have many friends, however you were still very kind and modest. On top of that, you were also an animal lover- exactly like them! The two of you also shared one other interest. They wanted to know if you shared more, but unfortunately the information on you was limited(not created because you’re not important).
Yandere! Noble who wrote an email to the game developers about how they should make extra content that should only feature new information and updates on you. They insist it would sell well(no one except them would buy). Sadly they never got a reply back. Rude ass company. Maybe they should’ve claimed mental health damage because the love interests were bad, so they could sue.
Yandere! Noble who couldn’t care less about the female lead. Unfortunately they got isekaid to at the point of the game where you’d have to enter a relationship with the female lead, that you could break off eventually if you wanted to chase after someone else. And sadly for her, you were the only option. The look on her face was laughable as they told her they could give rats ass about her and how they’ve found someone much better than her in all ways.
Yandere! Noble who then realised they were not bound by any rules. In a lot of isekai the person would have to follow some original rules at least in the beginning, but there was no system or points you needed to collect. They could do whatever they wanted. They had the power, the looks, the wealth and what they wanted was you.
There is no way you’d ever say no to a future grand duke, right?
#oc#yandere oc#male yandere#obsessed#possesive#misstycloud oc#toxic#yandere#yandere x reader#Yandere noble#noble yandere#yandere duke#isekai yandere#Yandere isekai#Yandere noble x background character reader#yandere x female reader#Yandere otome game
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yandere!househusband x afab!reader. cw: implied dub-con, fingering, edging, slight somnophilia??
yandere!househusband who takes care of you day and night. in your shared home, he's always there to help you, whether it be waking you up with ticklish kisses, cooking you food that has a rather unique aftertaste, or even scrubbing your back during a warm shower.
yandere!househusband who cherishes every intimate moment you share with him. whenever you're out busy with work, he subconsciously touches the ring on his finger while thinking about you. so by the time you arrive home, he engulfs you in a hug and immediately pecks your neck, trailing kisses from your chin down to your collarbone. when that happens, you have to stop him from getting too excited.
yandere!househusband who immediately leads you to bed after a long day of work. the both of you are tired from doing your chores/jobs, so the best way to recharge is to curl up in bed and cuddle, or so he says. but even though he says he's tired, his lips and hands say otherwise.
yandere!househusband who starts from massaging your shoulders, before brushing his hands down to your back until it reaches your hips. you could feel his warm breath on your nape, and when you ask him what he's doing, he simply presses a kiss on your skin, telling you not to worry.
"just get some sleep, darling," he says, and you try, you really do. your eyelids are heavy and you're extremely tired. but how could you sleep when you could feel his fingers rubbing on your clothed entrance?
the moment your underwear gets slightly soaked, yandere!househusband tugs the waistband off and slips his fingers right in. he knows you're trying not to writhe around under his touch as you attempt to sleep, but when he circles his index around your clit, you can't help but twitch a little. it doesn't help when he teases your shoulder with soft bites.
yandere!househusband who plays with your sweet pussy with his hands. you were already wet just from a few touches and rubbing, how much more if he actually puts his entire dick in? the thought makes him throb so he lines his tent up on your ass, grinding ever so slightly. he can't help it, okay?
yandere!househusband who stops when you groggily tell him you're coming. "oh, darling, we can't have that yet. you'll have to open up your pretty eyes first."
yandere!househusband who ends up making the most out of the entire night. he wants to savor you whilst you're half-asleep, after all. oh, and work? that can wait, just cuddle with him the next day. <3
#♱⠀koni writes#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere househusband#yandere househusband x reader#x reader#yandere smut#soft yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere oc#yandere x female reader#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#male yandere#oc x reader#yandere oc x reader
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Yandere Stalker x you
Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: Stalking, blood, fem reader, stealing, he’s weird as fuck, male masturbation, he’s infatuated with you.
*This fic is influenced by You—a great tv show btw. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. I really thought of the weirdest and freakiest shit he could do… Here is part two! He is referred to as “your stalker” and this is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your stalker goes to extreme lengths to feel close to you. Nothing really phases him, and that includes your period blood.
What’s more dangerous than a man madly in love?
He stalked you to a coffee shop. He sat a couple tables away from you, and he ordered a random drink. He never really cared for the overpriced concoctions these baristas made, and he really was here for you. He watched your white straw turn into a different color when you sip on your drink, and he sighed happily as he thought you looked hot with your lips puckered.
Sure enough, every sip was like a punch to your bladder. You got up from your seat and you walked to the restroom.
Was this disgusting? He asked himself as his cheek hit the cold tile floor. He was currently hiding in the women’s bathroom, spying on you as you did your business. And to his elation, you were on your period. He watched as you pulled down your pants, and you sat down onto the toilet, his eyes honing in on the pad that lays on your panties. As you changed your sanitary pad and wrapped up the old one, you pulled your pants back up and walked out of the stall. His eyes following the sight of your shoes and you stopped at the trash can, he hears a faint noise, and then the sound of the water turning on.
When you finally left, he walked out of the stall he was hiding in, and he approached the trash can. He gently pushed the opening, and his arm traveled down inside to look for the pad you threw away. He prayed that all of the wet substances that he was feeling was just soggy paper towels.
He then feels a plastic film, and it was sort of short but thick in width, and he grabbed onto it. He pulled it out and he inspected the orange colored wrapper. He was curious since he didn’t have a uterus, and also didn’t know what it was like to have a period, and he then sniffed it.
It definitely smelled odd… It sort of tingled his senses, the aroma of metallic blood and the natural scent of your body was…. sort of triggering a deep rooted instinct inside him. But that didn’t stop him from stashing it away into his pocket. He quickly put his hood up and he walked out of the restroom.
He had to jog a bit to catch up with you, he saw you sharply turn the corner, and he almost panicked when he couldn’t see you anymore. The last time this had happened, a crowd swarmed him and he hasn’t seen you in months. For five hellish months he had to try to find you again. It certainly wasn’t easy to find someone that didn’t document every single moment of their life on the internet.
A year prior before he started to stalk you in person, he wanted to stalk you online. He was pretty sure everyone stalks their crush on their socials, he remembers seeing your name on the coffee cup you were holding, and he scrolled through endless usernames. He squinted his eyes and he tried to look at the tiny profile pictures.
None of them looked like you.
He couldn’t find your perfect face anywhere! He slammed his fists onto his desk, and his mind was racked with potential username ideas. Maybe you liked flowers? He started to name every single flower he knows, and he typed that with your name. He frowned when the page ended up empty, zero profiles showing up.
He soon found out you had zero social media presence.
He shoves his way through, bumping into seemingly everyone’s shoulder, and after handing out half hearted apologies…he finally saw you enter a store.
He looked up at the sign: “Rated: Adventurous,” it said. There was apparently a huge sale going on… whips and leashes half off… wait what?
He didn’t peg you to be the kinky type, but to be fair he didn’t know much about you. You keep your cards close and have a small knit of friends. He walked into a different aisle from you, trying to look normal by grabbing a random adult toy as he glanced at you. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as you held a ten inch dildo in your hands, jesus. He looked down at his own crotch, his cheeks burning red and he cleared his throat. He put away the leather mask in his hand, and he inched a bit closer to you when you walk to the cashier. He notes that you mostly pay in cash, rarely using your card, and he noticed how you barely look around your surroundings. You didn’t even look his way—even when he was standing right in front of you, you just brushed past him and walked out of the store.
Huh.
He stands a couple of feet behind you as you hailed a cab, he makes sure to take a good look at the driver, and he saw you get in and buckle up. It’s not safe in the city, and even cab drivers had partaken in dangerous and criminal activities. Just last week a driver kidnapped a couple and fled out of the state. If you were to disappear—he knows exactly who to blame.
He quickly ran to his car and he followed after you. Running a couple of red lights doesn’t hurt anybody— maybe his wallet— but it’s worth it if it means protecting you.
He felt like he could finally relax as you made it home safely. He is now sitting in his parked car, idly fiddling with his fingers as you walked up to your front door.
He hoped that when you were pleasuring yourself you were imagining a man like him. Because he thinks of you when his pants are down.
Night has fallen and he’s been parked outside of your house for hours. He liked that it was dark out, because when he stares into your lamp lit apartment- all he could see is you and everything else is blocked out. You’ve always been a little tease, and the outfits you wore were always a bit scantily clad. But even now… it was like you were purposefully trying to trigger a response from him. You were just standing there, your arms crossed, and dressed in just a robe.
Just a tiny peek of your ankles and calves sent chills down his body. His hands started to work to unbuckle his belt, his zipper becomes unzipped, and he pulled out his hardened cock.
He wished you would’ve flashed him right there and then. He wanted a glimpse of your tits, just to see if they sag or if they were perky, and to see if your nipples were pink or brown. He would want to hold them in his hands. He wonders if you are shaven down there, or perhaps you liked to grow a bush. He wonders if your blood continued to flow out of you, dripping down your leg for him to lick and lap up. Would you like that? For him to spread your legs and help soothe your cramps?
He wouldn’t mind to have his fingers turn red, to have his hands and mouth stained of your heavenly essence. He wouldn’t mind if you got frustrated that his fingers couldn’t reach the deepest part of you, and that you wanted him to use his dick to impale you. A little blood never hurt. His eyes rolled back, and the muscles in his arms tightening as they furiously worked hard to jerk him off.
“Shit baby, that feels so good…” He groaned, his back arching as he was teeming for his release. His imagination running wild with the thought of you coming to his car to pleasure him. “I’m close I’m close I’m close—“
He used his other hand to reach into his pocket and he fished out the used pad, his teeth ripping the plastic, and his nose digs into the cotton. He let out a loud moan, your scent bringing him comfort, and his cock twitched as he came all over. His cum dribbling down his shaft, and dripping onto his hand. He sighed, and he cleaned himself up. He kept a box of tissues in the glove box, he wiped himself down and he looked in the mirror. There was a bit of your blood on his nose and chin, his tongue swiping at the area and he savored the taste.
The orgasm was so good that it lulled him to sleep, his soft cock still in his palm, and he snored away.
#Allurilove yandere writing#tw stalking#cw blood#yandere x female reader#yandere x you#yandere x fem reader#yandere x y/n#male yandere x reader#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere oc#smut writing#obsessive love#yandere fic#yandere stalking#yandere male#yandere smut#he’s gross#smutty smut smut#yandere writing#he wants you so bad
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Hear me out... Yan priest with a non believer reader....like just imagine....Yan priest"you don't believe in heaven huh...then I'll take you to heaven...then continued to 💥 her....
Cw: 🔞NSFW MDNI🔞 Fem reader! Throatpie, coercion, corruption, dubcon, religious aspects, creampie, cum shower, slight humiliation, degradation, praise, overstimulation, Zebad turning you into a true believer
—————/—————/—————-/————/———
Zebad sighs in contentment as he watches you collapse onto the altar, his wet slick and cum covered shaft slipping out of your overused cunt with a wet pop. He takes a moment to admire your body, feeling his own softening member hardening with avengeance as he sees the marks and bruises he so graciously bestowed upon your skin. Before he quickly flips you over, ripping off your top with a gentle smile.
"Mmm, my lost Dove~ did this prayer session help to enlighten you by chance?"
The Priest hums with a twisted expression on his face confronting the non believer gasping for breath within his holy sanctum. Right before the lords eyes of the marble statue which stood tall above them and judged with a solemn stare.
He reached out a hand to firmly grasp onto your hair, his rock hard cock hovering near your lips. While he smacks his meat against your face, before nudging the tip of his leaking fat tip against your lips smearing it with your collective love juices from prior rounds.
"Oh how precious you are my dear, your pretty head looks as if it’s all empty inside. Allow me to fill it with something meaningful"
The Priest coos lovingly before he shoves his penis into your mouth, forcing it down your throat. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't care. This was meant to teach you a lesson on how not to turn your back on the gracious blessings. That the lord could bestow to you if you’d just let your heart open fully to the wonders of the teachings he gives…
In all honesty Zebad was bullshitting about his preaching for a god he didn’t even have half a mind to remember the name of. He couldn’t care less about said god nor did he fathom entertaining the prestige beliefs of his pious church brethren. Why would he spend time trying to convert you into worshiping the lord when he could make you revere him as your sole savior.
"That's it, Love suck just like how we’ve practiced. Being such a good girl for me"
He purrs continuing to thrust into your mouth, his balls rubbing against your face as he uses you for his own pleasure. Grinning with satisfaction as he feels your fingers wrap around his thick length, your mouth still wrapped around it like a newborn. The corrupt holy official could feel his cock twitching with impatience, eager for your attention. He starts to buck his shaft inside your salivating mouth, relishing in the moist heat of your tongue sliding back and forth on his foreskin.
Yes, he’d make you utterly reliant on him for the rest of your days. Spend his sweet time training you, molding you into his perfect believer who’d only get on their knees and revere him as both your lover and guiding light to damnation. He alone would encompass the entirety of your mind, body, and soul.
"You’re gonna learn to accept me as your lover and savior and become an obedient bitch for me yes?"
Zebad coaxes with an sugarcoated timbre whilst he continues to rock his pelvis against your face, his body wracked with pleasure as he feels himself getting close to cumming again. He can ascertain how much your esophagus was tightening around his dick, making his balls twitch from the sensation. Of how he knows that you're so eager to please him.
"Oh what a delectable sheep you are, my darling~ so docile and compliant for me."
The Priest pants as he finally drives his shaft to the hilt, smacking his balls up against your drooling face. He lingers there for a moment, enjoying the tightness of your throat around him as you gag. He can feel his cum building up inside of him, and he knows that he's getting close to the edge.*
"Fuck, Dove, go on and take it! Take your lord and saviors cum like the good believer I know you are."
He starts to flood your taste buds with the peculiar taste of his gummy sperm, making you gag even more. The amount is too much for you to handle, so he spills the rest of his cum all over your tits and face in white beady rivulets. He grins with satisfaction as he watches his cum dripping down your body.
"Mmm, you look so beautiful covered in my cum perhaps I should make you walk around in it all day. And make it test of your faith towards me wouldn’t you say?”
Zebad goads, his voice low and seductive. Paired along with a devilish smile that was present on his face full of infatuation and obsession for his poor little sheep that wandered helplessly into his clutches.
#Zebad the Priest#yandere priest#yandere smut#smut imagine#smut headcanons#smut scenarios#smut drabble#yandere male x reader#yandere art#yandere drawing#male yandere#yandere male#yandere x female reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yanderecore#yandere concept#yandere cw#yandere content#yandere blurb#yandere blog
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Yan!Fuckboy HC’s
Yan!Fuckboy x GN! Stuco President! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, stalking, murder, obsession, masochist yandere (if you squint), nsfw mentions
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Yan!Fuckboy who can’t help but stare at you as you walk down the hallways. God your ass, the sway of your hips, the glare you give him, the scoffs when he compliments you, all of it makes his cock throb in his pants.
Yan!Fuckboy who makes it his daily routine to follow you home after school, he can practically smell you! Look how cute you look when you get in the shower, he’s so happy he brought his camera.
Yan!Fuckboy who has sex with anyone who resembles you, the same perfume? He’s already shoved his dick in that hole. The same hair colour? He’s already had that mouth around him yet none of them satisfied him the same way you did that one night.
Yan!Fuckboy who needs another taste, having a one night stand at a Halloween party isn’t enough for him! Please let him have one more chance!
Yan!Fuckboy who realises that it’s not your fault you’re rejecting him, it’s that guy on the student council, isn’t it? He’s blackmailing you, isn’t he? He’ll make sure that asshole never smiles at you again.
Yan!Fuckboy who’s over the moon that you agreed to hook up whenever you’re feeling frustrated. It’s become his life mission to irritate you until you either fuck him dumb, or he fucks you silly.
Yan!Fuckboy who stole your spare key and made a copy so he can visit you whenever he wants. How’d he get your key? You gave it to him silly! You remember, don’t you?
Yan!Fuckboy who cums as soon as he’s fully in your hole, despite all his experience and his larger than average body count, you make him feel like a virgin again.
Yan!Fuckboy who puts a bullet through the eyes of any slutty girl or guy that tried to get in his pants, he’s reserved for you only, like how he doesn’t let any other people try to have their way with you, you’ll be together forever! It’s not like you have a choice anyway!
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
#tw yandere#yandere oc#yandere male#male yandere#yandere#soft yandere#yandere aesthetic#male yandere x y/n#male yandere x you#male yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x male reader#yandere x female reader#yandere x gn reader#x female reader#x male reader#x gn reader#x gn y/n#x female y/n#x male y/n#male reader#female reader#gn reader#yandere x darling#yandere x willing reader#male yandere oc#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons
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a loving family, an unpalatable desire
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.
imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.
you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.
you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.
really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.
yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.
the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.
but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.
you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.
yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.
you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.
you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.
maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.
and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.
''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.
and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.
you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.
your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—
it's everything a parent wants, needs even.
and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.
so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.
a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.
#🧁... yael's misc.#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere batman#yandere angst#yandere bruce wayne#yandere clark kent#yandere superfam#yandere superman#yandere damian wayne#yandere jon kent#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x female reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#male yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x darling#I HATE WRITING HIATUS#this is so bad erm...#im back at ranting in tags but ykyk#why am i so bad at this again 💔
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Of Course a Prince Needs a Princess
Characters: Yandere Prince x Female (Y/N) In which you reincarnate into a fairytale where Yan!Prince wants his happy ending too
𝑃̲𝑟̲𝑜̲𝑙̲𝑜̲𝑔̲𝑢̲𝑒̲
Having a second chance at life in exchange for the death of your previous one came with a crash. You weren't sure how it happened, but you luckily retained your memories and your wit.
It didn't take long to find out you were in a world akin to Cinderella's story--from the stepmothers to the talking mice to the royalty the citizens praised. Unfortunately, you weren't looking to live in a grand castle. Or maybe you were, but not with being married to a man you don't have feelings for. The original couple got together so quick, yet they barely knew each other. That story was definitely as it was: a work of fiction
Your new plan? Put up with the stepsisters, find a job elsewhere, and make enough bank to live comfortably in the village away from your family. You've never heard of laws in Cinderella's fairytale, but you were certain that the kingdom couldn't possibly force citizens to live with toxic family members.
𝑇̲ℎ̲𝑒̲ 𝐵̲𝑎̲𝑙̲𝑙̲
After spending a few months doing chores and odd jobs around the village (the latter for some extra cash), your family finally received news of the fated ball.
You initially didn't plan on going, but you deserved a break. You didn't bother asking for permission to go; your stepmother definitely wouldn't allow it. The main problem was summoning Fairy Godmother.
Luckily, she couldn't tell the difference between fake tears and real ones. You behaved as close to the actual Cinderella as you could recall, and POOF!
With your new attire and coach, you made your way to the most gorgeous castle your eyes have ever fell upon.
It didn't take long for the prince to notice you, but this is where you drew the line at this fairytale life. You rejected his proposal to dance, shocking the other guests. You had to resist a smirk at your step-family's reaction.
Flabbergasted, the prince left you swiftly and moved onto another fair maiden. You indulged yourself in the catering happily, but after your stomach was filled, the stares of passerby began to discomfort you. The prince was occupied with another dance, so you wasted no time leaving the palace early (much to the confusion of the knights who stood guard).
The spell broke while at home with no evidence of your night out, not even the glass slippers. When your stepfamily returned, they bragged about their time and briefly talked about you (luckily not knowing you were the one who was "stuffing their face like a pig starved."). After that day, life returned to normal.
Or at least what you thought was going to be normal.
𝘙͜𝘶͜𝘯͜𝘢͜𝘸͜𝘢͜𝘺͜ 𝘊͜𝘪͜𝘯͜𝘥͜𝘦͜𝘳͜𝘦͜𝘭͜𝘭͜𝘢͜
Beginning that night, Yan!Prince thought about you often. He never imagined a young lady would ever reject his proposal to dance, though he didn't hold it against you. It was just a shocker.
Despite that, you appeared in his mind before bed and after he woke up, while he ate and while sharpening his combat skills. Even if he told himself that that one incident was nothing more than a brief interaction with a citizen of his kingdom, he couldn't forget the color of your hair, your pretty face, and how you paid oh so much attention to the food his family prepared just for that ball.
Upon overhearing the chefs gush about their gratefulness towards their food being appreciated so much, he made up a personality for you: kind but forward, honest, valuing true intentions and love over gold and high status.
Too bad for him, gold was your highest priority. While he began going on strolls into the village in search of you under the impression of catching up with the townsfolk, you continued job-hunting and tending to the house. You even decided to cater to your stepfamily as best as possible--subtle enough so they wouldn't think you were trying to suck up to them.
Surprisingly, your relationship with them improved just a bit. But it was what you needed to get permission to work at a bakery in the village.
Once you discovered he was visiting the village often, you did your best to avoid the bakery window while working and hurry home once your shift ended.
Unfortunately, you both ran into each other just as you closed up shop. In a small panic, you inquired about him for the sake of courtesy. While you two spoke, he couldn't help but notice a striking resemblance between you and the lady who turned him down at the ball. You could tell from his facial expression he was piecing things together, so you abruptly bid farewell and ran away.
He would visit you a lot. After replying to his inquiry that you weren't the girl at the ball, he'd joke about it a lot (there was no other gal in the village like you). It didn't take long for rumors to spread amongst the kingdom that the prince had taken a fancy to you. You hated it. He didn't mind it. In fact, it no longer mattered whether you were the girl at the ball. Something about you pulled him in like a hook. Perhaps it was the determination he observed through the window. Perhaps it was the way you handled children while taking a breather outside as he ate inside. Perhaps it was destiny.
As time passed, you grew more tolerant of him. While you didn't want him to be your romantic partner, you guessed you were okay with being his friend. As time passed, he grew more frustrated you weren't his. His father took note of his unusual agitated self, but he waved it off as stress when thinking of a future bride.
"What about that lady the people are saying you like?"
"Oh, her? She has....a way with herself. It seems that she's not interested in me."
"Perhaps you both need a bit of a push."
Since then, the King made a few visits to the bakery to chat--no marriage mentioned. He wanted to see what you were like. Although you were a kind girl, he confronted Yan!Prince with the truth that he probably wouldn't have a spouse who didn't want him. It broke his heart to hear, but he wasn't ready to let go yet.
You were already preparing your escape long before the ball, but the pace of your plan sped up now that the prince was on your trail. You found out about the closest kingdom from acquaintances and saved up funds to use on your journey.
When the prince discovered you had quit your job via a disappearance, he visited your home. Your stepfamily was in shambles (literally. The place was filthy.) and shared that you had disappeared overnight with your belongings. There was no mistake in it: you had abandoned him.
Framing your escape as a possible kidnapping, he ordered guards and encouraged the rest of the kingdom to search for you. All of his efforts was on the search.
Photography didn't exist, so you were fortunate that the description he gave out about your appearance was vague. Somehow, you made it to the nearest kingdom with a plea to the guards that you made your way there in search of a better life. The Queen was kind and sponsored a place for you to stay for the first five months while you adjusted to your new life in exchange for you finding a job. It didn't take long to do so with your desperation.
In no time, you were living a much happier life in your home, with your new friends, and even someone who kept catching your eye. Talk of the nearby kingdom's drama was entertaining, even more so with the subject amongst them.
Meanwhile, the prince's mental and physical wellbeing deteriorated. Some say the search took a lot out of him. Some say he was so heartbroken, he had no will to live. Maids in the castle whispered about the prince being locked in his room from the outside because he grew violent--so out of character! Disturbed, the King confided in only those closest to him about his woes. Whatever did that woman do to infatuate his son so much! No one could approach him anymore. He ate and drank only when he needed to. His room became a mess. How did such a sorrow fall on the family of royal blood when there was so much potential for happiness to look forward to?
Anyone could guess that were was no point in a happy ending for romantic fairytale if there was no romance to begin with.
#fanfic#fanfiction#writing#writerscommunity#x y/n#x reader#reader insert#y/n#female reader#fairy tale retelling#cinderella#yandere x reader#yandere male#yandere x female reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere x you#tw yandere#unrequited love#not a happy ending
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I kind of like the idea of a Dick vs Jason love triangle. It seems fun and horrifying.
@yandere-wishes
Yandere Batman Head Canons: In The Middle
Yandere Jason Todd x Fem Reader x Yandere Dick Grayson
Warning: they’re both very delusional
You were a fresh face in Gotham. Someone who hasn’t yet been exposed to the horrors of the city and still had kindness… it was why all sorts of unsavory characters attached themselves to you. Nightwing and Red Hood were among the two.
So it was no surprise Dick began to develop feelings for you whenever you’d patch him up in alleyways.
Dick loved how your touch was always so gentle… your softness was a trait he loved. Yet Jason’s feelings were much more intense than Dick’s. He was far more broken than the ‘perfect’ Dick.
Jason craved warmth, kindness, and touch. All of which that you gave him with no desire for anything in return… he had to have you. He deserved you more than his adopted brother.
You let him into your apartment to heal him up when he was injured. You fed him homemade meals. You even let him sleep on your couch… you loved him too. That’s the only logical explanation in his brain because why else would someone be so kind to a man they barely know?
It was why whenever he’d be close to healing up all the way, he’d crawl into your bed with you when you were asleep. Why he’d pepper your shoulders with tender kisses while your eyes would flutter with peaceful dreams. Jason wanted you to know how much he adored you… yet he was terrified of you being caught in the middle. Of the risk of you getting injured or worse… dying.
May the Joker never catch wind of your existence or he’d go even more insane… Jason didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want to be abandoned and forgotten.
So when he found out how kind you were to Dick, he almost lost his damn mind. Why did you associate with that traitor?! Dick wasn’t worthy of you… he had everything.
Jason had to take in a deep breath. You weren’t aware of his history, so he couldn’t blame you… but he hated that Dick’s body touched your precious hands. He’d have to make a move soon… he wouldn’t let Dick win
Meanwhile, Dick had no idea you associated with Jason nor that Jason was even alive. You were his latest crush. The only girl who didn’t want to use him…
For the first time in his life, Dick was shy. His cheeks would always flush whenever you’d give him that sugary sweet smile. Heavens you were a sight to behold… the apple of his eye
He believed he was the only one in your orbit… how was he to know there was another man who coveted you?
So he’s shocked when Red Hood pulls a gun on him and warns him to “stay away from you or he’d put a bullet between his eyes.”
You knew this hooligan? Dick had no idea you were in such danger… don’t worry! Dick would save you!
Now you were in a very difficult predicament… you were stuck in the middle of two extremely competitive siblings
#jason todd x reader#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x female!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x female reader#yandere dc#yandere headcanons#female reader#yandere imagine#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere au#tw.yandere#yandere best friend#yandere childhood friend#yandere imagines#yandere concept#yandere hero#yandere batboys#yandere batman#yandere vs yandere#yandere x female reader#red hood#nightwing
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╭────༺♡༻────╮
YANDERE!PERV X FEM!READER // PT1
warnings ;; nsfw themes, creepy behaviour, overall yandere themes
╰────༺♡༻────╯
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who didn’t really believe in love at first sight. ‘People were horrible and mean, loves not real at all!’
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who immediately disregards his previous statement the moment he saw you, his ears perking up at the sound of your voice speaking to your fellow classmates.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who’s enamoured with you the first time you ran into the lecture hall, hair messed up, books all jumbled and bag almost falling off. You looked so perfect and sweet!
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who watches you so intently as you work, he stares at you as if he’s an eagle. Everyone notices him staring at you and thinks he’s a perverted freak, but you don’t pay any mind to it. That must mean you think he’s okay!? that must mean you like him..<3
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who doesn’t even have a conversation with you for months but just practically eye-fucks you. He remembers all your outfits and if you ever rewore them. Your favourite sweater, which he wants to steal so he can do god knows what to it.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who almost whimpers when you sit next to him, He secretly thanks the person who stole your self assigned seat.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who’s eyes widen as he realises he’s going to have to speak to you. shit shit shit what should he do?!
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who after 30 long minutes, has the courage to shyly ask for a pen. quickly hiding his stationary; he stutters, pauses, and whispers the 7 words. It’s practically impossible to understand him. “d..do you have…a p..pen that i can borrow..?”
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who almost combusts when you give him a polite grin, saying ‘of course!’ and lending him a pen before focusing back on your work. To you it was a conversation you don’t think twice about, for him? It made his entire month.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who can’t even focus on his work as he notices the bite marks on top of your pen. your lips and teeth touched the lid…his slender fingers slowly brush the bite marks, hands quivering with delight. Even a streak of blood couldn’t compare to how red he was. He’s keeping this pen no matter what.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who gasps in relief when you leave forgetting to ask for your pen back, he quickly puts it in his bag and beams happily all the way back to his flat. The happiest he’s been in years!
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who places the stolen pen on his night desk, and kisses the top of it every night like a routine. ‘I’m practically kissing her~!’
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who slowly collects the things you accidentally leave behind. Half drunk water bottle? His. A tissue you used when it was getting a bit cold? In his pocket like it’s his hankerchief. A core of an apple you chucked into the trash can before walking into the class? Treats it like it’s Gods gift
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who built a mini shrine of your belongings at the back of his closet. His harmless little secret, no body, especially you needs to know.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who loves you so so so much! he’d do anything for you! ..even if you guys have only ever spoken once or twice.
“Mmm hey! Can you help me with this question…?”
purerae<3
#what a silly guy#i posted this like a couple of months ago but accidentally deleted it an hour later LOL#purerae#yandere blog#male yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere nerd x reader#yandere nerd#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere oc x reader#male yandere oc#yandere male#yandere x female reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#nerd x reader#yandere hcs#yandere scenarios#male yandere x reader#yandere classmate#yandere classmate x reader
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