thevanillerose

[thevanillerose]

CUPID’S HOLLOW POINT | ICHIGO x GRIMMJOW | BLEACH

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS ~

200 Followers Celebration: Request [1/10] [REQUESTS CLOSED!] Request: “Bleach Characters! Getting shot by an Cupid/Eros love arrow while visiting the World of Living!”

200 FOLLOWER EVENT! Until the end of May, I am taking 10 free fanfic requests! Details HERE! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. A/N: Happy Pride Month~! Enjoy this goofy ass fic about Ichigo/Grimmjow and their latent love for each other.

Karakura Town. Summer.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez wasn’t supposed to be in the World of the Living. But there he was, sleeves rolled up, grinning like a wolf with a limp rabbit, spiritual pressure barely suppressed as he strode down a side street like it belonged to him.

"I can smell that bastard from a mile away," he muttered, cracking his knuckles. “Time to finally settle this.”

Not far off, Ichigo Kurosaki was patrolling rooftops with his usual half-annoyed, half-bored energy, when he felt it. That unmistakable spike of familiar, cocky reiatsu. He knew exactly who that was.

“Oh, what the hell—”

He didn’t even get the words out before Grimmjow flash-stepped behind him, slamming a fist into his shoulder. Ichigo flipped midair, unsheathing Zangetsu in one fluid motion.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You again?” Grimmjow smirked. “Miss me, strawberry?”

Before Ichigo could respond with a full-powered Getsuga to the face, a sparkling pink streak cut through the air — fast and silent, like a divine sniper round.

💘 Thunk 💘

Grimmjow froze. So did Ichigo. The arrow was lodged squarely in Grimmjow’s back.

He blinked. His body jerked forward like he’d been tased, then slowly turned his head to look at Ichigo. His eyes were fierce with sudden fury (a typical look for him), as if he automatically assumed that Ichigo must be responsible for this. But he was just as confused. 

And then, just as quickly as the glare had come, it began to soften.

“…Huh,” he said, blinking down at Ichigo like he’d never seen him before. “You’ve got really nice eyes.” Ichigo stared at him, mouth half-open. “What?”

“I said you’ve got nice eyes, idiot,” Grimmjow said, stepping closer with a weird tilt of his head. “Like...that color? Kind of amber in the sunlight. Never noticed before.” “…Are you having heatstroke or something? What the fuck are you on about?”

Grimmjow stepped forward again, uncomfortably close now. His hand hovered over Ichigo’s arm but didn’t quite touch. “No, dumbass. I just—look, I don’t know what the hell’s happening, but I’m gonna say this once, so shut up and listen.”

Ichigo’s eyes narrowed. “What?” “I like you, alright?!”

The rooftop went silent. Even the breeze seemed to pause.

“…Wha—what the hell are you talking about?!” Ichigo sputtered, taking a step back. “You were literally trying to kill me like two minutes ago!”

Grimmjow dragged a hand down his face, visibly frustrated. “I know! This doesn’t make sense, alright?! I saw you, and something just—clicked. You looked at me with that stupid scowl, and I felt like I was gonna puke, but it kinda made me wanna kiss you too, okay?”

Ichigo's face was beet red. “You’re insane!” “I’d eat glass for you!” “…What?!” “I’d kill for you. I’d die for you. You want flowers? I’ll learn horticulture!”

Ichigo stumbled back in horror. “RELAX dude!”

At that time, a few rooftops away…

A squat, golden-lion-plush body peeked out from behind a utility pole, holding a glitter-covered makeshift bow fashioned from a chopstick and a ribbon.

“…Direct hit,” Kon whispered to himself, gleefully watching the chaos unfold through pink, heart-shaped sunglasses. A quiver full of mismatched arrows clinked against his stuffed back. “That’s three confessions in one day. New personal best, baby.”

He wiggled his plush tush proudly, then drew another arrow. 

Ichigo was still shouting.

“What in the actual hell is wrong with you?! You wanna learn horticulture? How do you even know that word? Grimmjow, are you high?!” But Grimmjow wasn’t listening. His eyes were starry. “I’d do anything for ya man, I mean it.”

Ichigo's eye twitched, but his cheeks were starting to flush. 

Then—

💘 Thunk 💘

The second arrow landed right in Ichigo’s back.  “…Tch,” Ichigo grunted, staggering slightly. “What the hell was that? Did you just—did you stab me?!” Grimmjow blinked. “Wait…I didn’t do anything.”

And then Ichigo looked at him. Really looked.

And the rage in his face collapsed like a tide pulling back from shore. His eyes went wide. His mouth opened like he was about to yell again, but nothing came out.

Instead, fully red-faced, he said: “…Shit. You’re beautiful.” Grimmjow recoiled. “Wh—what?”

Ichigo clapped a hand over his own mouth like it had betrayed him. “No. No-no-no. That wasn’t—what the hell just came out of me?!”

“You think I’m beautiful?!” “I didn’t mean to say that! You look like someone smacked a shark into a brick wall!” Grimmjow blinked. “Hey—!”

“…But also, like, in a really hot way,” Ichigo added, breathless. “Ugh! Why am I sweating?!”

His face flushed deeper. “I hate this. I hate this so much.”

He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he finally said it…

🎯 Two rooftops away... Kon lowered his makeshift bow with solemn pride.

“This…” he muttered, eyes shining. “This is destiny.”

He scribbled a note into a spiral-bound journal titled “Operation: Kon’s Sacred Duty.”

✧ Pairing: Grimmjow × Ichigo ✧ Status: Confessions achieved.

He hugged the quiver to his plush chest and gazed into the sky.

“I know you both wanted this, even if you’re too stubborn to say it. So really…this is love.”

His beady eyes glistened.

“I hope I can find the same…someday…”

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[thevanillerose]

TYPE A | YANDERE!CONNOR x READER | DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

“Haaa...”

With a big stretch, you marked the beginning of your lunch break. Both arms raised, back straightened in your office chair, you finally opened your eyes after that large yawn and cast them over to Connor, your co-worker.

Connor never yawned. He never did anything like that, unless it was very much deliberate. The only habit you could say he had was his coin trick, and even then, he'd explained to you before that it was done for self-improvement purposes. Keep up the dexterity in your spare time, and you'd do better when you really needed to utilize it.

You were only expressing your weariness, and yet he watched you as if you were some kind of enigma. He wouldn't tear those fake eyes away, and on the one hand you were flattered anyone would want to look at you for so long, yet on the other, you started worrying that maybe you still had some donut crumbs stuck to your cheek.

“Um...” Brushing the corner of your lip just in case, you stood up from your desk opposite his. “I'm gonna go get some coffee. I'd offer you some but...well...y'know.”

“Of course. I appreciate the offer anyway.” Connor smiled charmingly, watching as you nodded and walked off into the small kitchen area.

Androids weren't meant to be this way, yet he was smitten with you. Every little mannerism, be it a tired yawn or a cute little hiccup, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear every now and then, or the fact that you always bought the same type of donut (chocolate frosted)...he noticed them all, in great detail. Part of it was just his natural android way of analyzing everything around him. But there was definitely something more to it than that.

He knew that he had specific missions and tasks to fulfil, but while they should have been taking priority in his mind palace, you were standing there instead. Just waiting for him to do...something...

That's right. Make you his, wasn't that what needed to happen? After all, if he didn't act soon...

“Hey newbie, get me a coffee.”

You visibly grimaced when you heard him approaching from behind. This was a good, if exhausting day so far, and so the snarky tone of Gavin was not exactly welcome to ruin it. Too late for that though, as when you turned away from the machine you saw him standing right there, arms folded and smile smug.

“Well? What are you waiting for, hurry up!”

“Excuse me!?” you snapped. Usually you were pretty good at keeping your cool with difficult people, but Gavin had been calling you 'newbie' and treating you like a personal slave for a good week now. Everyone had their limits, and you were at yours, “Don't order me around, alright!?”

“Huh?”

You were about to reach for your coffee cup when Gavin suddenly snatched your wrist and yanked it back, jerking you around to face him. “Who the fuck do you think you're talking to!?”

“Hey! Let go of me-!!”

You were in the process of trying to get free, with a plan to chuck that coffee right in his face, when someone else intervened. Out of the blue, Connor came storming over, dark eyes steely as his plastic hand shot out and grabbed the tender flesh of Gavin's throat. Stumbling back in shock as it happened, you winced as your hand accidentally landed on the draining board and grazed against a carelessly abandoned, albeit short, kitchen knife.

It was surely a hazard to have that lying around, especially with quick-tempered assholes like Gavin about, but you were less focused on the pain, and more on the fact that Connor looked fit to kill the guy who dared to bother you. He had slammed him right into the upper cupboards, holding him up off the ground with ease. His faux nails dug in and pressed hard against Gavin's windpipe, the other guy only managing spluttered wheezes.

“Ga-aah—f...u...ck...y...ou!”

Connor only squeezed harder. Was it anger he was feeling? No...it was more like a cold, harsh instinct.

Evil-doers ought to be punished, after all. That was a moral code that anyone could follow, whether human or android.

“Connor, that's enough! It's fine, okay!?” you had to say something, as Gavin was going purple. Yeah, you despised the guy. But would you wish any type of death upon him? No...somehow you suspected that it would make you the worse person if you did.

The android turned calmly and looked straight at you. There was something so unsettling about how placid his facial expression was. As if he thought nothing about assaulting somebody on a whim...

“I'm grateful you're standing up for me, but please, let him go? I think he's learned his lesson.”

He continued watching you for a moment, and something briefly twitched. His ring went red a few times, processing the situation, before he looked back at Gavin. Slowly, he allowed his hand to lower, and in turn, the office bastard too.

“Guh! Y...you'll pay for that you plastic prick!” Gavin coughed and snapped, rubbing his neck as he stumbled to his feet and made his escape. Connor only turned to you calmly, before his eyes immediately flicked to the open wound on your hand.

It was the closest you'd seen him come to emotion. Those same eyes went truly wide, his lips parting in an expression of shock. Before you could insist that you'd be alright, both of his hands shot out and grasped yours, pulling you quickly over to the sink.

“C-Connor, it's fine! It's just a little blood!” you insisted as he quickly turned the tap on. “It looks worse than it is—ahh!”

You yelped as he put your fingers under the water, feeling a sting as your fresh injury was cleaned. Connor vigorously washed your digits to the point where you teared up. Only when he noticed that did he slow down and stop, studying you worriedly.

“...I apologize. I'm just ensuring that it doesn't get infected.”

“I-I know.”

Connor was in turmoil. He may have appeared still on the outside, but internally he was a wreck of cascading waves. Humans had a term for it, 'butterflies in the stomach'. Yet this was like that, magnified, a billion times over. He felt like he was going to lose whatever brain he had. Like he was just going to go completely mad. Forget typical deviancy, this was his own way of breaking through his programming.

For he didn't care what his creator wanted. He only cared about what he wanted.

You.

Sheepishly, you excused yourself to the bathroom after thanking him for his help, and he watched you walk out with your hand clasping your other fingers. You looked so meek and fragile as you left him there. On your own...no...that was no use. You needed him as much as he needed you, Connor was convinced of that.

He glanced back at the draining board. It was communally used, so he had to wonder why an idiot would leave a knife lying there. If he found out who it was that, however indirectly, had caused this harm to you...

Though, perhaps it was also a good twist of fate in a way. For as he picked up the so-called 'murder weapon' (if the murder of your flawless beauty was concerned), he noticed that some of your blood was still clinging to the blade. Connor paused, gazing at the scarlet.

In a way, he knew what he was doing was twisted. Even if just a machine, he possessed enough self awareness to realize that the action was messed up.

Yet...he overrode any reluctant programming to satisfy that twinge, that carnal need.

Usually this was a technique he saved for necessary moments when investigating alongside Hank. Right now though, he only utilized it for the sake of knowing all the more obsessive detail about you.

As Connor ran his tongue across the blade of his knife he tasted nothing, yet closed his eyes and groaned anyway. It was more a matter of principle. Something intimate...and when it came to you, anything of that nature was satisfying for him. He was never more human than when it came to you.

Connor pulled the now spotless knife away from his lips, touching them with his other hand.

“Intriguing...” he breathed out, and broke out in an unsettling grin as he plunged the knife into the ready suds and walked out into the main office. His eyes settled on where you were already back from the bathroom, sitting at your desk and typing away carefully with your damaged hand. You may have been marred today, but you were still every bit as perfect in his deep brown android eyes.

He leaned against the frame of the door, and marveled at you from afar, as he had done so many a time before. His hand instinctively reached up, fingertip running right along his lower lip. Connor only smirked knowingly.

...Type A.

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[thevanillerose]

✧˖° Interrogator

Trapped in a high-security room in Sky Haven, you come face-to-face with the enigmatic new Fleet Colonel. As the interrogation unfolds, it becomes clear this is no ordinary debriefing—Caleb knows more Playable Story - Caleb x Reader

———————————⋆ ---––——––--- ⋆———————————

Colonel Caleb.

The reinforced door shuts behind him, sealing tight, as he enters the room. His uniform is pristine, his gloves on, cap pulled down partially over his eyes. Eyes that are cold, unreadable.

He doesn’t sit right away. You’re the only one sitting, bound to a chair in the center of the room.

Instead, he paces around you, slowly and deliberately. A red recording light blinks. You’re being watched.

But what bothers you more, is looking at this man you thought you knew and realizing he isn’t the same person anymore. To the point where you wonder, is it even Caleb at all? How can someone look so much like him and yet...be so different?

He sets a folder on the table without breaking eye contact.

"Let’s begin. I’ll ask the questions. You’ll answer them. And if you lie...I’ll know."

Choose what happens next on Glimmer Fics!

Link: https://glimmerfics.com/stories/294b9230-interrogator Author: @thevanillerose

[thevanillerose]

~ 200 Followers Event ~ REQUESTS CLOSED!

Requests for my 200 Followers event are now closed! Thank you to everyone who participated and sent me one! I'm going to start working on them now!

If you still have an idea you want written, but didn't get the chance to request it, my Writing Commissions are always open!

[thevanillerose]

PIGMENT | YANDERE!RAFAYEL x READER | LOVE AND DEEPSPACE

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS ~

NEW! Check out my Patreon for early access to my stories!

200 FOLLOWER EVENT! Until the end of May, I am taking 10 free fanfic requests! Details HERE!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. CONTENT WARNING: Yandere / Implied death & violence / Blood A/N: Fishy fishy *blub blub blub*

“You painted this? It’s…it’s breathtaking, Raf…”

A man like him probably didn’t need the ego boost, but even so, you were impressed. The most recent piece to grace his canvas stroked your own ego as well.

A small smile tugged at his lips, the kind he wore when he wanted to be humble but couldn’t quite manage it. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, bare save for a splash of blue paint across one collarbone and a dried streak of something darker along his forearm. 

He watched you, but said nothing. Only raised an eyebrow, inviting you to go on. Nothing seemed amiss really, he was always like this, wasn’t he? A little like: go on, tell me more about how great I am. 

You stepped closer, studying it with open admiration. Breathtaking, that really was the word for it. No better way to describe it. 

The painting depicted you—not just a flattering version, but something deeper. Something intimate. Your pose was natural, relaxed, like he’d captured you mid-thought. Just a little exposed, chastely sexual. Some skin on display, but strategically covered by the ocean blue blanket draped over your form. 

Still, as enticing as it was, as glamorous as it depicted you…the eyes. The eyes were haunting. 

Vulnerable. A little…scared? Pupils just a little bit too sharp, as if caught in headlights.

As if alarmed. 

“I don’t even remember you taking reference for this,” you murmured, tilting your head. “When did you paint it?”

His voice came gently from behind. “I never need a reference for you.”

Your cheeks warmed. “Right, of course. Stupid question.”

You traced the swirls of color with your eyes. Lavender shadows in your hair, a rose-gold flush to your skin, hints of silver laced into the folds of fabric.

And yet, there was one tone that didn’t fit. A dull crimson, muted like dried blood, formed the background in rough brushstrokes. It looked like it had been smeared on with fingers rather than a brush. It was surprisingly crude considering the usual graceful care Rafayel painted with. You could only assume it was very deliberate, then. 

“What color is this?” you asked, pointing.

“That?” he said, stepping close behind you. “That’s envy.”

You turned your head, smiling faintly. “Looks more like dried blood to me.”

It was a joke.

“Maybe it is.”

He didn’t seem to be joking.

Rafayel said it smoothly, with a smile. 

For the briefest moment, a little paranoid thought crept in. Still, you dismissed it. Instead, you gave a soft laugh, trying to dispel the tension.

“You're such a freak sometimes.”

“I’m an artist,” he corrected, leaning forward to murmur the words just above your shoulder. “You know what we do to preserve beauty? Whatever possible.”

Your smile faltered. Again, he sounded way, way too serious about this. 

He brushed your hair aside with paint-stained fingers, like he was clearing the way to your throat.

“You know how difficult it is to create a pigment that captures the precise shade of your skin when you blush? I’ve tried everything. Shell dust. Pearl. Flower pollen. Fish scale. Nothing was right.”

You turned to face him. “What…did you use, then?”

Rafayel’s lashes lowered. Long and beautiful, his hooded eyes gazed through them.

“It’s better if you don’t ask. Just know I only use it for you.”

Something deep in your gut twisted. “Raf—”

“Do you remember that man?” he interrupted, voice still soft. “The one who kept messaging you. Saying he missed you. Kept calling you his first love?”

You froze. His question was so out of the blue, so sharply worded, it felt like a slap. 

“I don’t know how true that was, I just remember seeing those messages on your phone and realizing someone like that was still a part of your life…”

Rafayel was wistful.

“I gave him a call myself. I warned him. Nicely, at first. Told him you’d moved on. That you had me now. But he didn’t respect that. He kept pushing…”

He lifted your hand, kissed the back of it. You felt his lips tremble faintly.

“He said you’d always belong to him. That he knew you better than anyone else ever could.”

Your breath hitched. Your eyes matched your painted gaze.

“Rafayel…”

Keeping your hand in his tightening grip, he gestured with his spare towards the grand canvas he was so proud of. Every lash of passionate color. Every intricate, spiraling detail. Every little fleck of red.

His smile widened. “Now, he’s part of one of my masterpieces. That’s as close as he’ll ever get to you.”

That sick, disgusted feeling swelled within you, panic rising, fresh sweat breaking through your skin as you tried to break free from his hold at the same time. Still, he didn’t let you go. 

“You said it yourself,” he whispered.  “It’s breathtaking.”

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[thevanillerose]

200 FOLLOWER SPECIAL | REQUESTS OPEN!

[REQUESTS CLOSED!] 200+ Followers!? (also yes i am alive hello)

It's that time again! Until the end of May I will be accepting 10 requests, to celebrate reaching this milestone on my Tumblr!

Please read the following rules! 🌸 Requests are NOT guaranteed! I may or may not write it, so please don't be upset if your request isn't chosen. Check out my writing commissions if there's something you really, really want! (And before May 25th, you can get 25% off everything!) 🌸 Requests have a better chance of being accepted if they are similar to other stuff I post here! Particularly yandere stuff! 🌸 Requests are only open until MAY 31ST! After that, the event will be closed until the next follower milestone. 🌸 Requests are first come, first serve. I am doing a maximum of 10, so the event will be closed either May 31st, or when I hit that limit. I will notify when the event is finished! You can DM me if you have a request you'd like to make! ♡

[thevanillerose]

April marks the 8 YEAR ANNIVERSARY of my writing business; Vanille Works!

Over the years, I have worked on over 1000 different writing projects, and with so many amazing clients. I've written for films & video games, YouTube, manga/comics, novels & novellas, all sorts!

I still can't believe this is my job, it's my dream come true. Thank you to everyone who has supported me over the years ♡

I will be doing something special to celebrate...

vanillerose.carrd.co

[thevanillerose]

COWORKER | YANDERE!CALEB x READER | LOVE AND DEEPSPACE

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS ~

NEW! Check out my Patreon for early access to my stories! *BONUS* SPRING SALE: 25% OFF COMMISSIONS UNTIL 11/04!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. CONTENT WARNING: Yandere / Death / Violence A/N: I downloaded this game just for this man and he was even hotter than expected. I'm cooked.

You never expected to see him again. Not in this lifetime.

The last memory you had of Caleb was burned into your mind like a scar—flames licking the late afternoon sky, the acrid scent of smoke, the sound of the explosion that shattered your world. You had screamed his name until your throat bled. 

He was gone. Nothing but a necklace.

So when the docking bay doors of the Farspace Fleet hissed open and the Colonel stepped onto the deck, tall and cloaked in shadows, the air in your lungs simply stopped.

He wore a black uniform pressed to perfection, with gold trimming that caught the sterile lighting. His coat billowed slightly behind him, heavy boots echoing against the metal floor. His cap obscured part of his face, but not his eyes. 

Those violet eyes. Your world narrowed into that singular color—the same shade you used to see when he smiled and promised to come home.

“Don’t miss me too much, pipsqueak.”

He didn't speak at first. He only looked at you.

Your voice wavered. "Caleb...?"

He stopped, then removed his cap.

It was him. Though, his face had changed. Leaner, older. His smile was faint and unreadable, and his eyes seemed a little more flat, colder than you recalled. Darker. Everything was darker about him. 

Nonetheless, it was still Caleb. In a way.

"You remembered me," he murmured.  You took a step forward, then froze, unsure if you were dreaming. "You're…alive."

He gave a curt little nod, and then finally smiled. Just a little.  "I'm back."

And that was all it took to break the dam. 

You ran to him, crashing into his chest with a sob, clutching the front of his coat like you might vanish if you let go. He didn't return the embrace. Not right away. But after a long, lingering moment, his arms wrapped around you. 

His grip was tight. 

Too tight.

…

Three Months Later…

Your hands hovered over the interface, eyes flicking between data streams and transmissions from the outer quadrant. Working in Intel for the Farspace Fleet wasn’t what you’d imagined for yourself, but Caleb insisted. You had wanted to join Recon like you used to dream about together as kids—running missions, piloting ships—but the Colonel said it was too dangerous.

Around here, if the Colonel said something, then that was that. Better to put up and shut up, rather than face wrath.

You were lucky to be granted a post here at all, he said. With your record, you owed it to yourself to stay safe. And more than that, he owed it to Gran, to keep you that way. 

So now you sat behind a desk, surrounded by rows of monitors, analysts, and support crew. It wasn’t glamorous, but it mattered. And, truthfully, you were just happy to be close to him again. Even if he was colder now. More distant.

Sometimes you wondered if it was really still the same guy you grew up with. The Caleb you knew always had such a warmth to him, a puppy dog innocence that you found endearing. Sure…he could be clingy. And a bit of a worrier. Too much of a worrier, when it came to you. 

But he was just protective. It made sense, right? You two had known each other for so long…

You looked up as a voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Need a second pair of eyes on this?"  The question came from Milo, a quiet, observant man from your division. He was a bit tall and clumsy, nerdy in a stereotypical way, but not unattractive. In fact, from the rumors you’d heard, he had a couple of female fans in the office. Maybe more than a couple.

He smiled gently as he handed you a datapad. "Colonel’s patrol log from last week. There’s some anomaly in the movement pattern. Thought you might spot something I didn’t."

You smiled back, accepting it. "Thanks. I’ll take a look."

He nodded and returned to his desk, but not before giving you a soft, almost sheepish glance. It wasn’t the first time. And you were starting to notice. He lingered too long sometimes. He remembered every detail about how you liked your reports formatted. He made excuses to talk to you.

You weren’t so naïve to think it was a coincidence. You also weren’t sure how you felt about it. You were still trying to process everything with Caleb.

Colonel Caleb.

He had changed so much, and yet...when it was just the two of you, sometimes you caught glimpses of the boy you once knew. He'd cook for you on late nights, sliding a plate across the counter without meeting your eyes. He'd tease you lightly in the elevator or call you by the old nickname only he ever used. When it was just the two of you, it felt much more familiar.

But there were moments, too, when he would freeze, staring just a little too long. His mechanical right hand would flex beside his hip, a tension in his jaw you couldn’t decipher. You'd ask him if something was wrong, and he'd always smile that empty, too-calm smile.

"Everything’s fine," he would say. "As long as you're safe."

That evening, the lights in your quarters flickered as you entered. You barely had time to set your bag down when the console chimed.

"Incoming call from: COL. CALEB."

You accepted it, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Hey."

His image appeared on screen, still in uniform. He was alone in his office, the lights low.

"Busy day?" he asked. At first, he had that boyish look on your face, the one you remembered fondly. The one which made you feel a little more at ease. His violet eyes were soft and downturned like a cute little dog. 

You smiled faintly, feeling comfortable. "Yeah. Some signal interference in the west quadrant. Milo and I were reviewing your logs. He caught something strange."

There was a pause. Just a breath. But it felt heavy.

"Milo," he repeated, his voice unreadable. "He’s been helping you a lot lately." You hesitated, sensing a shift. "He’s just a coworker." Another pause. Caleb’s jaw flexed.  "Of course."

You opened your mouth to change the subject, but he spoke again. In an instant, a switch had flipped. 

"I want to see you. Come to my office. Now." You blinked, bewildered. "Is…is something wrong?" He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Not at all silly. I just miss you."

…

The halls of the flagship were quiet at this hour, lit by the pale glow of emergency strips. You passed the occasional officer, but no one met your gaze. When you reached Caleb’s door, it slid open before you could knock.

He was waiting, standing beside his desk, arms folded.

"Sit," he said gently, gesturing to the couch. You obeyed, nerves prickling. The room felt too still. The warmth you thought you had sensed earlier seemed to have all but vanished. 

"Do you trust me?" he suddenly asked, walking over. You looked up, surprised, all innocent eyes. "Of course I do, Caleb."

He sat beside you, close enough for your knees to touch.  "Then don’t lie to me.”

Staring at him, you cowered back against the couch cushions. Lie to you?

“I saw the way he looked at you. How he’s been looking at you.” Your heart skipped. That confirmed it then, that’s what this was about. 

"Milo? Caleb, he’s just—"

His hand reached for your face, interrupting you, gloved fingers tracing your cheek with surprising gentleness. Still, you flinched.  "I know every part of you. I remember the way you used to cry when the thunder scared you. The way you always held my hand under the blankets. I know the scent of your skin when you’re nervous. I know when you’re lying."

You tried to speak, but he leaned closer, eyes locked on yours.

“You know you can trust me, right, [Y/N]? I just want you to be careful…”

Your breath caught. "Caleb—"

“-Because in this world, you can’t easily trust anyone, okay? You don’t know what people might really be like behind the masks they wear…”

While his words weren’t wrong, your brow furrowed. It was really hard for you to picture Milo that way, he seemed hapless.  “Caleb, I don’t think–” you reached up to pull his hand away, but he shifted his thumb so it hooked against your jaw, and held a little tighter. Your fingers hovered, but didn’t touch him. You shuddered.

“...Promise me, [Y/N]. Promise me you’ll stay away from other guys like that. At least…” Caleb hesitated, before his expression steeled again, “At least not until we both know we can trust them. Yeah?”

His hand finally moved, and drifted down your torso softly, against your chest before he seemed to realize and he pulled it back sharply. He breathed, a shuddering, weary breath.  “...You’re not like anyone else, [Y/N]. You’re special. That’s why I need your word, okay?”

He looked at you straight, waiting for your promise. Your throat felt tight, but you swallowed, and nodded. “...O…okay, Caleb. Okay…”

…

That night, alone in your quarters, you thought about Caleb. About Milo. About how the tension had been building ever since your reunion.

It had come to a head today, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t like the way he held you, stared you in the eyes with none of the softness you were once used to. You didn’t like the…implication…of what might happen if you didn’t do as he said. 

You remembered the way Caleb used to act when you were kids—always showing up, always hovering when you talked to other boys. He never said anything outright, but you could feel it. The possessiveness. The suspicion. He made it a point to insert himself, anywhere and everywhere, to keep them away. 

Nobody messed with him either. Not even the neighborhood bullies, who he’d done a sufficient job of ‘teaching a lesson’ after they’d tried to target you one time. He had been bigger. Stronger. Scarier.

And these days? Even more so. 

Back then, you thought it was sweet. Like you had a guardian constantly looking out for you. A gravity-gifted guardian. 

Now...it felt heavier.

…

The next day, you bumped into Milo outside the commissary. Literally.

"Oh, sorry—!" you began, but Milo caught your arm to steady you, and you froze up. You’d been about to skirt around him, hurry along, but- "You okay? You look pale."

God, he’s so nice. Why does he have to be so nice?

You forced a smile, shrugging his hand away despite feeling it was rude, "Yeah. Just—didn’t sleep much."

He hesitated, pulling his arm back like he feared he’d overstepped. In Caleb’s eyes, he would have. Yet he still tried to extend his kindness. "If you ever want to talk about it...you know…I’m around."

In front of you, you saw him collapse into a sheepish, red-faced reaction, shifting foot to foot. It stung a little to have to be so curt with him, but you needed this conversation to end, and sharp. Before he saw.

You nodded, gave a quick thanks, and abruptly took your leave. Milo lingered behind, bewildered. 

You might have felt relieved.  You didn’t realize Caleb had been watching.

…

That afternoon, the atmosphere in the Intel room shifted. You felt it before you saw him. 

Silence fell like a curtain as Caleb entered, his presence a wall of cold authority. His boots struck the floor, weighty, deliberate. 

He walked straight to your desk, past staring eyes and quiet workers, all of them too on edge to even dare speak. Heaven forbid they did. 

When he reached the back of your chair, his tall, broad shadow fell deeply over you. It cloaked you in a chill, but you tried to remain calm and composed, looking ahead at the screen. You stared hard at the numbers and letters flickering in front of you. They were starting to clump together, meaninglessly.

"I need to see you in my office," he said, and the way he spoke was so neutral and detached, it was as if he wasn’t speaking to you at all. Just some stranger, someone of zero consequence. 

Kind of shocked by his tone, you slowly looked around and up at him. You expected him to lean down maybe, drop the act and make his request softly. 

He didn’t. He stared down at you, cold and hard, gaze narrowed. 

You swallowed and stood, following him out without a word. Eyes followed you the whole way.

When the doors slid open to his private office, you stepped inside—and froze.

Milo was there. Restrained on his knees by invisible force, in a column of compressed gravity. His eyes were wide with fear, teeth grit to endure the pressure and the pain.

You stared for a moment, meeting his terrified eyes, before stumbling backwards, hands hovering before your mouth. 

"C-Caleb—what the hell is this?!"

The Colonel removed his gloves, placing them calmly on his desk. "I warned you." "What are you talking about?!" "Milo," Caleb said with icy precision, "was never just a friendly coworker. He was planted here. Embedded in Intel to get close to you. Because of the Aether Core."

Immediately, Milo tried to cry out something, eyes bulging, head quivering, but all he could manage was a grunt of agony as the weight dragged him crushingly deeper towards the ground, compressing every organ.

You flinched. "That’s classified—" "Exactly. And he knew. He tried to earn your trust, waited for the perfect opportunity. Probably had some backdoor installed in our systems already."

You looked back at Milo. "That can’t be true."

"You don’t believe me? You would trust him over me?"  "I—Caleb, please, let’s investigate—"

He tilted his head, blankly. “I did. I’ve already seen the evidence. It’s conclusive. So…"

Caleb raised one hand. The air around Milo twisted.

"NO! Caleb, STOP—" "You need to understand," Caleb said softly, eyes never leaving yours. "Anyone who tries to hurt you…will pay the price."

Gravity compressed with a sickening crack. Milo didn’t even have time to scream. You covered your mouth in horror, stumbling back. It didn’t matter how many Wanderer attacks you’d witnessed, you’d never seen anything this horrifying before.

And it was Caleb who was responsible. Caleb, of all people.

Caleb stepped forward, catching you by the shoulders before you could teeter off your feet. His hands were warm. Comforting. As he pulled you close you simply couldn’t fathom how these same hands had just done what they had done. 

"Shhh," he whispered. "It’s over now. You’re safe. As long as you’re with me, you’ll always be safe. I can promise you that, pipsqueak.”

You stared at him, tears streaming down your face, jaw agape, pupils small with shock. How he could use your charming little nickname now, after that…was sickening. "...You killed him."

"He was going to hurt you. I protected you."

You wanted to scream. You wanted to run. But something froze you numbly to the spot, and Caleb only pulled you close, arms wrapping tightly around you, firm enough it was like a warning. His next words confirmed as much. 

"You’re mine," he whispered. "No one else's. Just mine."

Something horrifying dawned on you then. It wouldn’t have mattered if Milo was innocent or not. It wouldn’t have mattered if Caleb made up that story to frame him or if it were the truth after all. Because he was another man, another person, who had dared to try and get close to you. And that was enough.

That was enough to turn him into a villain. A ruthless, cruel villain. 

In his mind though, he must have been a hero. A hero who would keep you ‘safe’.

Even if it meant destroying the world around you. Even if it meant destroying anyone else in it.

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A/N: Milo from Atlantis got stuck in my head for some reason recently (or maybe it was the one time Cole Sprouse cosplayed him on here, either way...). So...he's here? I guess?

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TARGET | YANDERE!OKARUN x READER | DANDADAN

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Another ordinary school day.

Or it seemed so, at first. You had scarfed down your lunch, hurrying to your afternoon class, when you heard mocking laughter echoing across the schoolyard. When you took a look, you saw Okarun, backed into a corner wall by Aira and her group of friends.

Of course it was Okarun. Of course it was Aira.

Lately she’d made a target out of him, and ever since, she simply hadn’t left him alone. You always saw that bright pink mop around him these days. 

"Honestly, can you be any more pathetic?" Aira sneered, arms crossed and eyes narrowed cruelly, her expression smug, pink-haired head tilted to the side. "You're such a loser."

Okarun's cheeks burned red, his gaze dropping to the ground as he mumbled incoherent apologies, clearly desperate to vanish. He often felt like it might just be better for everyone if he did. If he simply disappeared into nothingness. 

Your chest tightened painfully, a rush of anger igniting within it. You hardly knew Okarun, sharing only a handful of polite exchanges during class assignments. Yet, seeing him shrink into himself even more, made you feel protective. Defensive. Nobody deserved to be treated like that. 

Before you realized it, your feet were moving toward the group, your voice sharp and commanding. Typically you didn’t like getting into trouble, but you were hardly going to be a fence-sitter. 

"Aira, back off. What's your problem, anyway?"

Aira spun around, her confident smirk faltering for a brief second. "Huh. [Y/N]. Are you seriously defending this nerd?"

"Yes," you replied firmly, standing defiantly between her and Okarun. "Just leave him alone."

A tense silence settled, and for a moment, Aira stared you down, clearly considering whether to push further. Finally, she scoffed dismissively, rolling her eyes. "Fine. Enjoy your charity case."

She marched away, her posse trailing after her with lingering, curious stares. You knew that their judgement would be turned to you from now on, but you were less worried about that. Once they had disappeared, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you'd been holding, turning to face Okarun.

"Are you alright?" you asked softly, genuinely concerned.

Okarun blinked rapidly behind his glasses, clearly stunned. His blush deepened, and he managed a shaky nod. It was clear he hadn’t expected anyone to actually come to his rescue.

"Yeah. Thanks for...for stepping in."

You smiled gently, patting his shoulder reassuringly. He was cute, honestly. He had such a sheepish, shy little way about him. Unfortunately, it was exactly that facet of him that made him such a target.

"Don't mention it. Nobody deserves that kind of treatment."

His eyes flickered to your hand on his shoulder, and for a second, something shifted in his expression—an intense, profound gratitude, mingled with a hint of admiration. You missed the significance then, simply offering another reassuring smile before heading off to your next class.

Feeling good, about doing a good thing. 

…

In the days that followed, Okarun's presence became increasingly noticeable. At first, it was subtle—small smiles, shy waves, offers to help carry your books. Soon, it became routine to find him waiting near your locker, eager to chat about homework or offer help with assignments. His dedication was sweet, and you dismissed it initially as gratitude.

It was nice, in a way. He seemed happier. Happier when he could be around you, in particular. 

But gradually, his behavior intensified. His quiet admiration began transforming into something deeper and far more consuming. You noticed how he lingered after classes, eyes hopeful and anxious as he waited for your acknowledgment, dimming slightly whenever your attention strayed.

It wasn’t long before you started finding small notes tucked neatly into your textbooks, messages like "Thank you for everything," and "You're amazing," which warmed your heart even as an uneasy sensation began settling within you. 

There’s no need to keep saying it…

Then, things escalated further. 

One evening, as you walked home alone, you got an uneasy feeling, like you were being followed. Glancing over your shoulder, your heart skipped nervously—Okarun was following you, eyes wide, cheeks flushed deeply in embarrassment upon realizing he’d been noticed. 

"Okarun...?” You stopped in your tracks, and turned tensely.

“Why are you following me?" you asked gently, attempting to keep your voice calm.

He stammered, looking away guiltily. "I-I didn't mean to. I just...wanted to make sure you got home safe."

You felt conflicted, touched yet unsettled. "I appreciate that, but please don’t follow me without asking. It’s...it's a bit much."

He nodded quickly, a look of shame crossing his face. "Sorry, I'll stop."

But he didn’t stop. That was just a lie.

…

Instead, his fixation only grew stronger. You began noticing him everywhere—in the library, at the corner café you frequented, always just far enough away to seem coincidental yet close enough to feel deliberate. 

There was a word for what this was, but even still, you were reluctant to paint him that way. He wasn’t a bad person, you knew that. He was just…lonely. That wasn’t his fault, right? 

The escalation reached a breaking point one evening after school. You were staying late to finish an art project, completely absorbed in your work when a quiet knock startled you. Turning, your pulse quickened slightly when you saw Okarun standing at the doorway, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

"Okarun? Is something wrong?" you asked, offering him a polite but cautious smile. You were real sick of it at this point, and you were sure the irritation was starting to show through, in the way your expression twitched. 

He stepped inside slowly, closing the door behind him carefully. "I just wanted to see if you needed any help. You've been working so hard lately, I thought maybe you could use some company."

You hesitated briefly, but his shy sincerity softened your apprehension. "Alright, sure. You can help me organize these notes."

For a while, everything felt normal, and you even relaxed in his presence. However, as time passed, you noticed Okarun watching you with increasing intensity, his eyes rarely leaving your face. Uncomfortable, you cleared your throat softly.

"Okarun, are you alright? You've been staring."

His eyes widened in embarrassment, but then his expression shifted into something more earnest and unsettling. Before he could help himself, the words came spilling out.

"I can't help it. You're amazing. Nobody else has ever cared about me like you do. Nobody. You make me feel important."

Unease crept into your chest again, warning bells ringing quietly in your mind. 

"Okarun, that's sweet, but—"

"No, please listen," he interrupted gently, stepping closer. His voice shook slightly, desperation edging into his tone. "You're the only person who makes me feel alive. I can't let you slip away."

You instinctively moved back, bumping a desk, your voice cautious yet firm. "Okarun, I think you might be taking this too seriously. We're friends, but—"

"I need you," he whispered fiercely, his expression growing alarmingly intense. "Without you, I don't know what I'll do. Please don't leave me alone again."

His vulnerability tugged at your heart, but the crazed look in his eyes terrified you. You didn’t like this. You didn’t like…seeing him like this. But this was just some big misunderstanding. When you helped him that day, you didn’t mean…it wasn’t like…

“Maybe I should go–”

Before you could finish your sentence, Okarun grabbed your hands firmly, squeezing them with a desperate, painful urgency. "No! Please stay. Just…stay with me a bit longer."

You tried to gently free your hands, heart racing with growing panic. You kept your voice steady.

"Okarun, please. Let me go."

His grip only tightened, eyes wide with panic as he pulled you closer. Close enough to feel his heated, panting breath against your skin. His flushed face taking up your vision. Big dark eyes slightly crossed behind his glasses as they focused on you, and you alone.

"I can't let you leave, not yet. You don’t understand—I love you. I need you. I can’t control myself without you!"

Control himself? What does that even–

You didn’t waste time questioning it, you just struggled harder, and in his panic, Okarun suddenly pushed you backward onto the table, art supplies scattering noisily to the floor. Your breath hitched in fear as he clambered over you, straddling your waist, his eyes wide and frantic.

"I'm sorry! I don’t want to hurt you," he stammered desperately, visibly trembling as though battling something inside himself. "But I can't stop this feeling—it's consuming me. You're all I think about. Please don’t leave me. Please [Y/N], please don’t leave me, please don’t, please–"

Using all your strength, you shoved him off, sending him stumbling backwards, dazed. You scrambled quickly to your feet, bolting toward the door, heart pounding painfully in your chest. You didn’t care whether it hurt his feelings or not.

You had to get the hell out. The hell away from him.

But just as you reached the hallway, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back.

Okarun stood motionless, still hunched atop that desk like some sort of wild animal. Head tilted in an uncanny way, glasses reflecting the classroom lights, hiding his eyes completely. 

Even without seeing his gaze, a chill ran down your spine as you felt a disturbing certainty.

You could leave this room. You could avoid him as much as you wanted. But it wouldn’t matter much.

Because…

…You were his target now.

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The city was always quiet at night. You liked the stillness. 

It was a rare moment of peace after long days at U.A.—training, studying, trying to keep up with the best. You weren’t a pro hero yet, though it was your eventual aim. Of course, that would mean getting a whole lot stronger first. As things stood, you were still weaker than you wanted to be. Someday, though, you thought. You didn’t realize, but that ‘someday’, and even ‘tomorrow’, had suddenly been placed in jeopardy. 

You heard the footsteps before you saw him. Heavy. You gripped your bag strap, heart thudding. Was someone following you? 

No. You were being paranoid. After all, Midoriya had mentioned the rise in villain attacks lately. It wasn’t unusual to be on edge. Then again, lately you’d had a weird feeling… Regardless, you forced yourself to relax and kept walking.

That was when the streetlights suddenly flickered out.

A hand clamped over your mouth before you could scream, yanking you backward into a narrow alley with such force it gave you whiplash. A broad, impossibly muscular chest met your back, solid as a brick wall, to the point where you thought stone was what you’d initially been shoved up against. Though you immediately tried to wriggle free, attempting to use your comparatively smaller body to your advantage, an arm thick as a trunk locked in around your middle, pinning you snug. It almost choked the breath out of you. 

“Well, well,” a voice rasped against your ear. “Lucky me.” You knew that voice. Your blood turned to ice.

Muscular.

The monstrous villain who had almost killed Midoriya during training camp. He should’ve been in Tartarus. He should’ve been locked away forever.

You thrashed, your hands clawing at his grip, a grip stronger than any other, your quirk flaring weakly in panic. “Don’t bother,” he chuckled. “You already know you can’t win.” This can’t be happening! Although everyone had assured you he wasn’t coming back, you’d lived in some dread, because you knew this guy had fixated on you in particular. How you had needed protecting at that time had been part of your motivation to become stronger, much stronger, so that you’d be able to save yourself, should it ever happen again. 

The world was tilting, your mind racing for a way out, but then—

A deafening crack split the air.

Muscular jerked, his grip faltering. Another crack, louder this time. His body spasmed before he crumpled, his grotesque muscles retracting, his limbs twitching like a puppet with cut strings.

And standing over him, fist still sparking with residual power, was Midoriya.

His breath was uneven, his eyes wild. “Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse, raw with emotion. His hands trembled as they reached for you, but when they found your arms, his grip was firm. Protective. You gasped, still shaking. “H-He—how did he—?”

Midoriya exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp curls. “He escaped from Tartarus. I’ve been tracking him. I knew he’d come after you.” His voice wavered. “I couldn’t let that happen.” Your stomach clenched. “You knew?”

He nodded, eyes dark, intense. “That’s why I’ve been following you.”

Something cold settled in your bones. That sudden revelation was bewildering. “Following me?”

His expression didn’t change. “To protect you. That’s why.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears. That was weird. That was very weird, wasn’t it? All the more weird when you considered…how much sense that made. Because lately, there had been some strange things happening in your life. You’d felt a presence you couldn’t pinpoint. “Izuku…how long?”

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers flexed, then curled around your wrist. “Does it matter?” His voice was soft, almost gentle. “I saved you.”

It did matter. The way he was looking at you, the way he wouldn’t let go—it wasn’t normal. This wasn’t relief, wasn’t gratitude. This was something else.

Your eyes flickered to Muscular’s body. He was barely breathing, his frame twitching from the brutal blows Midoriya had delivered. Honestly, you couldn’t think of anyone else who would be able to take down such a beast. If Midoriya hadn’t shown up…well, you didn’t really want to imagine what would have become of you.

You swallowed hard. “So…that’s how you found me so fast…”

Midoriya’s expression remained soft, adoring, but there was something unnerving in the way he stared at you—like he was studying you, memorizing every detail of your reaction. “Yeah,” he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your stomach twisted. Maybe he’d meant well. And even if he was a lot ‘cooler’ these days, he had always been the awkward type. Perhaps he didn’t even realize how creepy that was, despite his will being good.

“I just wanted to keep you safe.” His fingers twitched at his sides, then clenched into fists before he forced them to relax. He seemed to have caught on to how unnerved you were, “What if I hadn’t been here? What if something else had happened? You could’ve been hurt, or worse.”

The way he spoke made it sound like he wasn’t asking hypothetical questions. 

You took a small step back. “I…I appreciate what you did,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “But I need to go. I need time to think.” And breathe. Your chest still ached from how that brute had been holding you earlier.

Midoriya’s expression flickered, as if he didn’t quite hear you—or maybe didn’t like what he heard. “I’ll walk you home,” he said very matter-of-factly, taking a step forward and extending his hand to you. 

You immediately shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I can—”

“What if another villain comes?” His voice sharpened, and you could see the way his shoulders tensed. His hands clenched, knuckles white. “You just saw what happened. You were helpless.”

Your heart stuttered at the edge in his voice. “Izuku—”

“I saved you.” His breath came faster, eyes wide with something manic, something desperate. “I’m the only reason you’re still here. And now you’re just…leaving? Like you think you’ll be okay on your own?”

You swallowed thickly. “I just…I just need space. I feel overwhelmed-”

His hands shot out, grabbing your shoulders—not painfully, but the force made you gasp. Face-to-face with him, you could see the wildness in his eyes. “No, you don’t understand,” he said, voice trembling. “You’re not safe without me.” “Izuku, let go!”

He didn’t. 

“I can’t. I won’t. You need me.” You pushed at his chest, panic setting in. “You’re scaring me!”

That made him freeze.

For a second, his face contorting. His grip slipped, just enough for you to rip yourself loose.

You didn’t waste a second. You ran.

You didn’t look back. You didn’t care if he was following. You just ran, lungs burning, the wind whipping against your face, your mind screaming at you to move, move, move! Whether you’d ever be able to see him the same way again, you didn’t know.

But whatever that was? Whatever that had been in his expression just then? It almost frightened you more than Muscular had. 

Behind you, Midoriya remained still, staring at the spot where you had been. Down at his hands, curling his fingers in slowly. 

A heavy breath left his lips. Then, his gaze flickered to Muscular’s barely-conscious body. He walked over to him, standing above the battered villain with an eerie calmness. 

Muscular coughed weakly, blood trickling from his mouth. “Crazy little shit,” he rasped, trying to laugh. “What’s the matter? Girlie not so grateful?” Midoriya tilted his head, studying him for a moment. Then, he sighed. “You did your part.” Muscular blinked. “Hah?”

Midoriya crouched beside him, eyes thoughtful. “She’s still afraid. She still thinks she can run from me.” A soft, almost wistful hum left his lips. “I thought this would be enough. That if she saw how easily she could be taken, she’d understand.”

Muscular tried to shift, but he was too broken to move. “Wait…wait, what the hell are you talking about?” Midoriya’s expression didn’t change. “I helped you escape. Didn’t you know that?”

Muscular stiffened. “You—”

“I needed her to need me. So I needed you to make it so. I pulled some strings to make your escape easy. I knew you’d come after her—I still remember—” his eyes flashed with fury, jaw tightening, “—the disgusting way you looked at her when I destroyed you before.” “But…” Midoriya’s voice became distant, almost disappointed. “But she still ran. Guess I should have left you where you were…”

Muscular’s breathing turned ragged. “You little—” Midoriya exhaled slowly, then lifted his bloodied hand. “I’ll have to try something else next time.”

And then he brought his fist down. Hard.

The crunch of bone and flesh filled the empty night, and deep red splattered on his freckled skin. Midoriya straightened, flexing his fingers as blood dripped down his knuckles. He looked in the direction you had run, eyes dull.

Maybe he had been too subtle. Maybe…you needed just one more little push, and then you’d understand. Maybe, he didn’t need anyone else’s help to convince you.

Maybe next time, he’d be the villain.

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AFTER HOURS [COMMISSION] | JIHL x LIGHTNING | FFXIII

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This was the time she loved the most.

Softly ebbing waves echoed in the distance, blending with the occasional rustling of palm leaves as a gentle ocean breeze drifted through the open-air bar. New Bodhum was never more peaceful than it was at night.

Lightning sat alone at Lebreau’s, the usually bustling beachside locale now reduced to a quiet haven under the moon’s glow. The faint scent of saltwater mixed with the lingering aroma of rum and citrus, all that remained of earlier revelry.

Lebreau had closed up hours ago, leaving Lightning with her thoughts and a half-finished glass of whiskey. She exhaled slowly, savoring the rare moment of solitude. A state she thrived in, albeit less of a lone wolf these days than she had been before meeting the others.

Before taking the journey that had changed them all.

The desperate battles fought against fate, the impossible choices they were forced to make, the bonds forged in the face of certain doom. They had all been marked by those days, their lives forever altered by the war against the fal'Cie and the cruel cycle of servitude they had been unwillingly thrust into. Together.

There had been a time when she thought she would never know peace again—when every move had been one of defiance, every step taken toward an uncertain destiny. She had fought, bled, and lost too much to believe in the promise of a normal life. Yet here she was, sitting in a quiet bar by the ocean, no grand mission looming over her, no divine forces pulling the strings of her existence.

Snow, always the reckless optimist, had gone on to chase his dream of protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves, his larger-than-life personality never fading. Hope, no longer the fragile boy he had been, had found his place in the world as a scientist, striving to ensure no one else suffered as they had. 

Sazh had his son back, finally living the quiet fatherly life he had longed for. Even Fang and Vanille, having carried the weight of centuries, had found their way back to the world, no longer shackled by their past sacrifices. Last Lightning had heard, they were making plans to rebuild Oerba. 

And Serah…

Lightning's grip on her glass tightened for a moment before she released a slow breath. Serah was happy. She was safe. That was all that mattered. That was all that had ever mattered.

She had spent so long fighting against fate that she had never truly considered what life would be like beyond it. Now, in this strange, quiet normalcy, she sometimes felt adrift. A warrior with no battle to fight. A soldier with no war left to win.

And although it was a good thing, that they had no reason to run and fight anymore…if she was totally honest, sometimes she missed the company. These days, although they saw each other as often as they could manage, she was largely alone again.

She took another sip of whiskey, letting its warmth settle in her chest. Maybe this was enough though. Maybe she ought to just be grateful for the peace.

She was just beginning to get lost in thought, when the door creaked open. Lightning didn’t turn her head, but the sound of clicking heels on the wooden planks told her all she needed to know. 

Jihl Nabaat.

She ought to have been dead. Lightning had thought so, anyway—another casualty of a world that had no use for PSICOM anymore. But somehow, Jihl had survived, spared from Barthandelus’s machinations, emerging into the new world like the rest of them. 

Whether it was sheer luck or some unseen force keeping her in the game, she had adapted, finding her place in whatever remained of PSICOM. Though the military force had fractured in the aftermath, remnants of its command still lingered, evolving into something quieter, less fanatical, but no less determined to maintain order. And Jihl, ever the survivor and manipulator, had secured herself a place within it.

The PSICOM officer stepped inside, her smirk illuminated by the glow of the dim lanterns. Her usual uniform was absent for once, replaced by a sleek black dress that hugged her frame, an unusual sight that made Lightning wary. Still, the sharpness in her gaze hadn’t dulled.

“Drinking alone, Farron? How tragic,” Jihl drawled, her tone both mocking and amused.

Lightning swirled her drink, the ice clinking against the glass. “Didn’t take you for the beachside bar type.”

Her ice-blue eyes flickered up towards the blonde sharply, as she added:

“We’re closed, by the way.”

Jihl hummed in feigned consideration, stepping behind the counter. “And yet you’re here. Besides, I’m on official business.” she said smoothly. “Illegal weapons, smuggling. Standard checks. You understand.”

Lightning arched a brow but didn’t bite. She knew that wasn’t the real reason. The way she moved—deliberate, slow, always just slightly above her, both physically and metaphorically—it wasn’t a mission, it was a game. One Jihl loved to play.

“Shame,” Lightning muttered, lifting her drink. “I was enjoying the quiet.”

Jihl leaned in against the bar, close enough that Lightning could catch the faint scent of expensive perfume. “Oh? Am I disturbing your peace?”

Lightning met her gaze, unflinching. “You have a habit of doing that.”

Jihl smirked, reaching for a bottle of rum and pouring herself a generous drink. The way she stood—angled, slightly above Lightning—was intentional. A reminder. A challenge.

“You know,” Jihl mused, voice softer now, “you’re always so tense. Maybe you should let someone else take the lead for once.”

Lightning’s fingers tightened around her glass, but she didn’t look away. The air here was a little chilly this time of night, but the tension between them was anything but cold.

“Not my style,” Lightning replied evenly.

The smug woman’s smile deepened as she took a slow sip, her eyes never leaving Lightning’s. 

“Oh, I think it could be—if you let it.”

Jihl’s one drink turned into another. And another. Her elegant composure began to falter as the alcohol seeped into her system, loosening the careful control she always wielded like a blade, now dulled. The sharpness in her gaze softened, replaced by something lazier, more indulgent. Flirtatious.

She leaned in even closer now, her fingers grazing the rim of Lightning’s glass as she chuckled, her voice taking on a sultry edge. “You know, Farron,” she murmured, tilting her head, “you’re a lot more fun when you’re not scowling.”

Lightning exhaled sharply, unimpressed but not entirely unaffected. “You sure your superiors would approve of this?”

Jihl laughed, a rich, velvety sound that sent an unexpected shiver down Lightning’s spine. “Oh, please. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” She took another slow sip of her drink, watching Lightning over the rim of her glass. “Besides, I think you like it.”

Lightning scoffed but didn’t pull away. Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was the way Jihl had shed her usual icy demeanor, but something about the moment felt…felt strangely-

Jihl smirked, eyes glinting in the dim light. 

“I knew it.” She leaned in just a fraction more, her breath warm against Lightning’s skin. “What a weak poker face you have. But if it’s too much, you can tell me to leave any time, you know.”

Lightning didn’t. By all means, that was true. She could have kicked Jihl out on behalf of Lebreau. 

Yet instead, she exhaled and reached for the bottle Jihl had been indulging in, pouring herself a measure. She rolled the glass between her fingers before finally taking a sip.

Jihl watched her with slow, deliberate amusement, swirling her own drink. “Now that’s more like it.”

Lightning shook her head but didn’t argue. A faint flush dusted her cheeks, whether from the whiskey or the way Jihl’s gaze lingered, she wasn’t sure.

Leaning in again, Jihl’s voice dipping into something more conspiratorial. “Careful, Farron. You might just start having a good time.”

Lightning huffed, setting her glass down with a quiet clink. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jihl smirked, her eyes flickering over Lightning’s body in a not so subtle way. 

“No promises…”

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[thevanillerose]

SQUID GAME 2 | YANDERE SCENARIOS

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

CONTENT WARNING: SPOILERS / Yandere / Violence / Death A/N: Probably the most popular request I've ever gotten on this blog, was to write a sequel to Squid Game | Yandere Scenarios. Now it did take me a minute to binge Season 2, with a bestie. Mainly because I felt like it was a little too depressing to watch over the holiday season...(unless it's a 'Silent Night Deadly Night' sorta Christmas??). But now that I have, hoo boy.

Strap in.

THE SALESMAN

Your teeth ached.

You should have predicted the kind of man he was. You should have seen it coming long before this investigation started. His little subway game should have been a dead giveaway.

Was it any surprise you ended up gagged and bound in the most fucked up game of Russian Roulette you could imagine? 

Watching him slide that metal barrel up taut between his teeth was enough to make your breath catch. It was strikingly perverse, but then again, so were many of the things he had turned out to be into. And you’d ended up in too deep before you could realize that. 

For a moment though, just a moment, you wondered if maybe Heaven was smiling on you. You wondered, ever so hopefully, if that chamber may be full. If a bullet may rip right up through his skull and splatter the cheap smoke-stained motel wallpaper behind him.

It didn’t. 

You flinched at the click, and that was all.

Smiling smugly, he withdrew the gun from his mouth and slid it across the table to you again. 

“Your turn, [Y/N].”

Right now you didn’t even know what your odds were. You quit calculating your chances once more than two bullets had come into play. Hopelessness swelled in you, and you couldn’t even will yourself to pick up the gun. You sank in the seat, skin pressing to the ropes, lowering your head in pitiful defeat.

“Mm? You don’t want to play anymore?”

When he received no response from you, save for a sad shake of your head, he sighed and picked up the gun, twirling it aptly, gesturing it towards you as if it were only a toy.

“That’s no fun. I thought you were feeling lucky? Isn’t that why you came after me in the first place?”

You looked aside, ashamed. Mission failed, huh?

Now, all you expected was a pull of that trigger on his part. A gamble on your behalf, one he’d probably take a few times if that was what it took to put you down. Yet instead, it was the gun he put down instead. 

“Can I be honest with you, [Y/N]?” he asked, steepling his fingers and leaning forward to look you dead in your tearful eyes.

“...I think it’s quite fortunate. That you stopped being so stubborn. That you gave up. Do you know why?”

Somehow, this already confusing man had baffled you further. And only moreso, terrifyingly moreso, when his fingers reached out to drift slowly up your cheek, coming to tug playfully on the gag and make you whimper.

“Because, alive? Like this? I can do whatever I want with you.”

That charming, disarming smile.

“Can’t I?”

THANOS

“I wanna keep playing with you. So push O, okay baby?”

His painted nails dug deep under your collarbones, like the worst kind of shoulder massage, his tall body leaning over yours and pressing against your back. His purple hair brushed your cheek, as did his breath when he spoke.

Thanos had singled you out and ‘chosen’ you from the get-go. He was arrogant enough to think he could get anyone he wanted, and you were a cute-looking challenge for him. Your initial resistance, your discomfort around him, he figured, had been nerves. 

“But it’s all good babe, stick with me and I’ll keep you safe. That’s a promise, yeah?”

Surely it didn’t have nearly nothing to do with your actual wellbeing, and more to do with keeping you in his clutches. Surely it wasn’t because he cared less about whether one of those pink limp-dicks blasted your brains out and more about making sure nothing else with a dick got near you.

Surely it wasn’t anything like that.

You were just someone who’d make a good fuck if he could bribe the guards to let you two in the bathroom alone. Just a toy for him to play around with, as he drugged himself all the way to victory.

…He tried to keep that lie strong and real in his head. But with you standing right there, back to his chest, he knew he was trying to convince himself of some serious bullshit.

There was nobody else like you. He didn’t know why, there just wasn’t.

Whatever it was, the drugs, the impending doom, the smell of money, whatever it was…one thing he simply knew for sure, was that he couldn’t let you go.

Which meant, you had to keep playing.

You had to push O.

His grip finally loosened, as your number was called. He pushed you toward the voting stand. He bit down on his chipped, painted thumb, and hoped you’d make the right choice.

Because if you didn’t? Well.

He wasn’t letting you go anyway.

HYUN-JU

It wasn’t fair.

You were so sweet. You were so innocent. You were so understanding.

Someone like you had no place in a game like this. Whatever mess it was you’d gotten yourself in, out in the real world, Hyun-ju couldn’t imagine it was bad enough to be worth staying here. Living this nightmare. She couldn’t fathom why you had voted to keep going.

There was no way you’d last. This sweet little person who called her ‘unnie’, and had told her without a shred of sarcasm that she was beautiful…you surely had too good a soul to survive in this place. You were going to die, and you were going to die horribly, she just knew it, and she couldn’t bear it.

“Unnie…would you come to the bathroom with me?”

During the night, you’d nudged and asked her almost like a child, apologetic for waking her, but clearly trusting nobody else as much. Hyun-ju obliged of course, she felt like she could do anything for you. Escorting you to the bathroom, even if it meant dealing with some difficult guards, was such a small ask.

It was the middle of the night. Everyone was resting, or trying to, at least. Trying to steel themselves with energy, a hopeful advantage in the upcoming games. So here, it was just the two of you. Alone.

“I won’t be long!” you assured her, and hurried into one of the cubicles, while Hyun-ju turned towards the sinks, leaning against one and gripping it. She gazed up at her face, brushing her cheek, remembering how you’d called her ‘beautiful’. 

You probably didn’t even realize how much that meant to her. You probably couldn’t fathom the effect you had on her.

Hyun-ju’s teeth grit and she doubled over, arms quivering as her grip on the sink’s edge steadily tightened. More and more, until her knuckles flushed in white.

I could do it.

Her head immediately shot up, staring at herself in sheer horror. How could she even consider that? 

But…what was the alternative? Let you suffer in one of these awful ‘games’? See your perfect face riddled with bullets, bloodied, ruined? Let any of those other lecherous creeps in here even have a chance of getting closer to you?

…It would be a mercy, no?

“I’m done!”

Blissfully unaware of what she was truly contemplating, you emerged again and quickly washed your hands, looking up at her with your usual, warm smile.

“Do you need to go too?” you shook your hands off, “I can wait for you, unnie.”

Hyun-ju forced a shaky smile, and shook her head.

“No…I’m fine.”

“Okay!” you gestured for her to go ahead, back to bed, back to the impossible task of trying to get any rest at all in this fucked up place.

Instead, Hyun-ju reached out and gently guided you back against the sink, standing over you. Her hand lingered near the crook of your neck, her thumb gently curling against your skin.

“...Unnie?” you looked up at her, now wide-eyed, and confused.

“...You wouldn’t blame me…right?” she whispered, softly, worriedly, like her words were pure sin. Her other hand cupped your cheek gently, and you instinctively leaned into it, confused, but happy to be held by her like this.

“...I just…I don’t want you to suffer…”

The pad of her thumb pressed harder. Her other fingers slipped lower, resting on the other side of your neck.

All she had to do was bring them together. Bring them together…and squeeze.

Squeeze until you felt nothing else. Until you could go blissfully to a happier place, with no debts, and no killing, and freedom again. Your delicate body would sink against hers, and then, somehow, she’d take herself out of here too. It could be as simple as provoking one of the guards on lavatory duty. It wouldn’t be the prettiest, but at least then, you’d be together.

Out of this place. Away from it all.

Forever-

“U-unnie?”

It was how small and suddenly so frightened your voice sounded, that startled her out of it. Her hands jerked back, hovering stiffly either side of you, as you gazed up at her with so much hurt and concern and…fear.

Fear.

You were afraid of her. The last thing she would have ever wanted.

“...W…we should get back, right? They’re going to get mad if we don’t…”

She could see the way you still tried your best to smile, and be nice, be the way you’d always been with her, but it was too late.

It was ruined. She blew it. You’d never see her the same way again.

Whether you truly knew what her intent had been or not, she could feel the awkward shift between the two of you, as she stiffly followed you out. She felt sick. Was that it? The end of this beautiful thing you had?

…Beautiful.

No. She couldn’t let it be. And as she left that bathroom, and looked at those guards, and looked at every other twisted person in that room, and looked at…you. She knew.

She was filled with a dark, delusional resolve.

Maybe killing you wasn’t the answer.

Maybe killing everyone else was.

THE FRONT MAN

Young-il had seemed like a good man.

A good man, simply in a bad place. Like the rest of you. You liked to think anyway.

It was only during this game, Mingle, that you got to see the full extent of people’s desperation. What they were willing to do, to survive, to line their pockets, or both.

It wasn’t in your nature…

“You understand, right [Y/N]!?”

It wasn’t ever…

“We’re sorry!!”

…in your nature.

You’d made a small group of companions here, but as you were the weakest link, they cut you in an instant as soon as the number needed in one of those rooms required it. Their apologies were like water, they meant nothing, as you were left standing there, lost, alone, scared.

This game…was also the first time he took action.

Messing with Gi-hun was one thing, but the Front Man wanted more than that. As soon as The Salesman had shown you to him; your red, flustered face as you had been slapped around the subway station, captured on handycam video…he had been sure of something.

It wasn’t just Gi-hun. It was you too.

Perhaps, he’d even say, you were the priority.

He liked the idea of keeping you after this was all over. Which meant, for now, assuring you stayed alive through these games.

So when he saw you abandoned, it was his time to act. He practically ripped the breath out of you with how fast he grabbed and tugged you along, throwing you into a lime green room and slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

You hit the wall with a yelp, and slumped against it. But as you shakily looked to your right, and as he turned from the door and cast his sharp eyes around the room, you both saw.

You’d wanted 2. You’d gotten 3.

“H-hey, we can work this out, r–”

The man didn’t get to finish. The tears that had welled in his eyes now poured down his face as he gagged and choked and writhed against the solid arm around his neck. You gasped with horror, staggering back as tightly into the corner as you could, covering your mouth with both hands.

You watched him kill that man. Clenched jaw, staring ahead coldly, even as a living being drifted into death in his very own arms.

And only once he was sure you were in the clear…did that kindness return. That goodness, you had been so sure about.

Young-il stood, and approached you, arm outstretched so he could brush your arm gently with his palm.

“You’re alright?”

You didn’t know how to respond. Pallid and wide-eyed, feeling like you had a cord around your throat, you looked into those worried eyes and only saw softness. But you couldn’t shake seeing that hard look from earlier. Witnessing it firsthand.

His cold will. How easily he had killed.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded, but quickly moved away, muttering something about how the game must be over now. As you stepped out, he remained for a moment, glancing up at the cameras before smirking, and curling the hand that had touched you close to the mint green jacket on his chest.

Did that shock you? Really?

Then perhaps it was better if you braced yourself.

Because if it meant keeping you as his own sort of prize……he was willing to do a lot worse than that.

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[thevanillerose]

TOUGH | YANDERE!MONDO x READER | DANGANRONPA

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

CONTENT WARNING: Yandere / Violence / Major character death A/N: Man got hair like a corn cob but still manages to be hot???

The locker door felt like ice against your back.

Even when you'd worked up such a sweat.

He was usually angry for some reason or another, granted. But it would usually be because of something petty (like one of his numerous bro feuds with Ishimaru), and he'd usually only be letting himself get infuriated for the sake of bravado. This felt entirely different to that.

It was entirely different.

Mondo Oowada, the biker thug with a rough attitude. Handsome, gruff, tall and muscled. Not the kind of giant you'd expect to be hanging around in the girls' changing room, but yet here he was, towering over you, cornering you against the place where you had been hoping to retrieve your belongings and get out of here, just so you could go take a well needed rest.

He wasn't about to allow that. His piercing eyes glared down at you from a shadowed gaze, not just due to the one his hair cast either. It was a kind of look you had never seen him show before, not even when he'd been on one of his manly rants.

Murderous.

That was the perfect word to describe it. Simply murderous.

“O-Oowada, what are you...what are you doing in here?” you shied away from him instinctively, pressing your back even tighter to the metal behind it. At first his sudden barging in here when it was already pretty late and he was hardly welcome had seemed odd. To say nothing of how he managed to get in here in the first place. Either way, it had startled you, but now that fear was stemming from confusion more than anything else.

Teeth grit, he stepped even closer to you, his shoes almost touching your bare feet.

“Since when you start comin' here so late?”

Baffled, you could only stutter out an answer: “Th-that's...I'm usually too busy during the day-”

“Busy with what?”

“W-well I...” you looked aside quickly reaching up to clutch your arm. What the hell was going on!? Why had he suddenly come into the girls' changing room, and why was he asking you these questions? Still, despite how lost and nervous you felt, you still looked back at him and answered:

“Recently I...I spend most of the daytime with Chihiro so-”

You trailed off. Even his visible twitching was disturbingly violent. You watched with increasing tension as his hands balled up into fists by his sides.

“...Chihiro? That was the first name that ya thought of, eh? Funny...”

His head turned down a little, casting those eyes even deeper into darkness and making them glow.

“So tell me, and be honest [Y/N]. Didja hear it?”

“...H...hear it? Hear what Oowada?” you questioned with eyes as wide as ever. One hand unfurled just so he could rub it against his brow, tilting his head to the side and cracking one eye just a little further open than the other.

“Don't play fuckin' dumb with me. You just happen to be here at this time by chance? When I was planning that shit for weeks and you never once showed up before? Bullshit...”

Suddenly both hands came flying for you and you squealed. They only slammed against the locker either side of you, making it shake.

“BULLSHIT! How long have you known about it, huh? Didja come here to stop me or something?” Mondo leaned in further and growled at you, “Well too late pipsqueak because he's already fuckin' dead.”

Just like that your blood ran cold.

“Wait...what?”

“Still playin' dumb with me?” Mondo broke out into a sickening smirk, one that seemed too shaky to be very confident. “Your little lover Chihiro. I beat him over the head nice and good, heh...”

Him.

You almost couldn't register the fact that he was admitting to murder, yet you picked up on that slip immediately. Mondo must have noticed that beyond the shock you were already showing in your speechless way, and he nodded.

“Yeah that's right, he told me all about his secret. I thought maybe you only liked gals but I guess this makes sense too. Idiot, guess he thought I might be able to help him.”

You were stunned. Chihiro had confided in you about that when Monokuma brought up the new incentive with your deepest secrets. He, or really she, had seemed like she wanted to have some kind of strength.

But when it came to physical strength...Mondo still won.

And he had won. You noticed it now. A splatter of blood on his cheek.

He really killed-

-Suddenly you just lost control. You simply let your hand fly up and smack against his cheek as hard as possible.

Immediately you regretted it. Mondo remained frozen for just a second, and then suddenly his own hands were around your neck, thrusting you back with a hard bang against the locker you had already been using as sanctuary, and you cried out weakly as his grip only tightened and tightened more and more. His nails pressed into your skin hard enough that it could have broken, and you really felt like he was going to snap your head off.

“You wanna fuckin' PUSH IT with me!? Then you can join him, or her, or whatever! You can join ALL of 'em!”

You really felt like you were going to die.

“Say thanks to that bitch Sayaka for me too, I used her handbook to get in here. Clever thinkin' eh!?”

You really felt like this was the end.

“Shame I gotta waste my time disguisin' two bodies in here now. Even when you're both dead you're still giving me SHIT to deal with!”

You really felt like...you'd be seeing Chihiro again soon...

“...That's it...you won't be breakin' my heart when you're dead...”

Breaking his heart? Could it be...

...Chihiro and I...he must have been jealous.

That's why he...killed her.

And that's why he's going to...kill me.

There was no way you could fight back. Even if you hadn't been dazed and suffocating you still wouldn't have been strong enough to resist him. Your mind was lost, you didn't know what to do.

You didn't want him to kill you. Not just for your own sake.

For Chihiro's too. People had to know...they had to know the truth so that she could be avenged.

So your hand, trembling as it was, came up and graced his cheek. You ignored the dried blood upon it, trying not to think about that tragedy. You simply pressed your palm flush with his skin and begged with whatever wheezing breath you had:

“...Please...”

Mondo froze again, but this time not in furious anger. In utter shock.

It was the first time you had ever touched him like that, and you were as soft as he had always imagined. And he had imagined for so long. Imagined so many things about you, because what else could he do?

It had seemed so obvious that you liked Chihiro. That was the type you went for, wasn't it? Small. Delicate. Kind. Gentle. Nothing like him. He had been so convinced that you'd never so much as look his way, and yet he couldn't bring himself to accept it. The mere idea of you ignoring him forever in favour of that weakling made him so mad.

Monokuma's excuse for them to kill had been the trigger he so desperately needed. The bloodlust came easily then. And he thought it would come easy now too. What reason did he have to let you live? You knew everything now, so you'd only be a liability. Even if you hadn't known, he feared regardless that even with Chihiro out of the picture your heart would still only be for her. That you'd spend every passing day mourning, still never looking his way.

A foolish hope, to think you might move on and become his as he had always wanted. That you might forget about Chihiro. Killing her had been necessary in those cruel purple eyes of his anyway, whether you ended up loving him or not. Had there ever really been any other option?

No. Chihiro had to die, and surely you had to as well.

Yet...as he felt your trembling touch, he hesitated. The dazed and almost tragically dreamy look in your gorgeous eyes. Your quivering lips that seemed to be begging for a kiss. Your perfect body, completely at his behest.

If he killed you...what would he have left to live for? Surely it would be no problem to keep you alive but make sure you kept your mouth shut too?

Make sure you did plenty of other things as well. Yes...he couldn't forget.

He was the toughest. The strongest. He was in charge here.

Hah...that's right. Why do I even gotta worry?

Gradually his hands slipped away, and he let you crumble to the floor, falling into a breathless and desperately gasping heap at his feet. Mondo simply looked down at you from the shadow painted on his face and let a dark smile curl his lips, calmer now.

He really didn't need to fret in the slightest. You'd do exactly what he said. You'd keep your mouth shut. You'd throw away the memory of that pathetic loser.

You'd love him back.

Or else.

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[thevanillerose]

ASSISTANT | YANDERE!RUFUS x READER | FINAL FANTASY VII

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

CONTENT WARNING: Yandere / Kidnapping / Stalking / Non-con A/N: Written as a commission ♡

You still couldn’t believe it.

Having a job at Shinra was like finding solid gold. Controversial a company as they were, the Shinra corporation had a prestige about it that drew lots of hopeful workers. You had been the one who actually managed to snag the position as their new PA though.

It wasn’t just some mediocre desk job either. You were working side by side with Rufus Shinra himself.

Now that…that was something special.

Rufus had already been made aware he’d have a new assistant by his side, but he was surprised when he saw you for the first time. He didn’t know what he had been expecting. Someone…mousier? Someone…sterner? A stereotypical secretary type?

There was just something about you that was different, something he was so strangely drawn to. Something that set you apart in a way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

He was drawn to you.

…

What started out as a simple, curious attraction on his part, began to warp and change into something much more like an obsessive fixation.

During nights, after long days at work, Rufus couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were a constant in his mind, imprinted on it like a tattoo. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, yearning for you, wondering where you were, what you were doing, who you were with.

He thought of how small and fragile you looked, standing next to him in his office as you would diligently relay his schedule for the day. He thought of how easy it would be for someone to hurt you, and suddenly, paranoia was the beast he was wrestling with.

He would get out of bed in a cold sweat, walk across the grand fancy expanse of luxurious flooring to his bathroom, and brush his dampened pale-blonde strands back from his brow, looking at his reflection of wildly concerned white-gray eyes.

“...”

He despised it in a way, how intensely worried he seemed. Why was he so invested in someone he had practically just met? Someone who should have meant so little to him?

You were nothing of importance to him…right?

It may have been better if you were. Things may have been fine if he really did view you that way, but the fact was, Rufus couldn’t. He found it impossible to stop thinking about you, and once those thoughts began, so too did his actions.

A man with as much power as he had could easily have eyes all over the city, and practically already did. Midgar was in the palm of his hand, and you were one little ant that he could keep a close eye on without you ever actually suspecting a thing.

Creepy? Perhaps. But he convinced himself, this was for your own good. This way, he could make sure you were safe at all times, keep you protected. Take care of you.

Until the time when he finally felt he could be open about his love for you.

If that day ever came…

…

“My ninja senses are tingling…”

Yuffie furrowed her brow with suspicion, looking around warily as she walked beside you. The two of you were on your way back to Seventh Heaven for the evening; a place you frequented outside of work hours. It was a fact that you didn’t inform Rufus about, worried that your association with people in the slums might cause trouble for you and your friends.

Little did you know, he already knew. He knew everything.

Though there was one thing he didn’t know…one thing that you yourself were about to discover.

“I swear it feels like we’re being watched, I have a sense for this kind of thing-” Yuffie spoke in a hushed tone, glancing around quickly again, and you sighed with a little frustration.

“Yuffie please…you’re seriously gonna make me paranoid…”

Her big eyes settled on you and she tilted her head, “How is the Shinra job anyway? I still can’t believe you managed to land that! I mean…no offense.”

Waving your hand dismissively, you chuckled, “Hey don’t worry, me neither. And it’s…fine…”

Clasping your hands behind your back, you tilted your head to look up at the underside of the plate (or the ‘motherf*ckin’ pizza’ as Barret called it), and mused aloud:

“I’m close enough to Rufus that maybe…I could convince him. Maybe we can find a way to finally stop Shinra from stepping all over us…”

“Hah. Good luck with that.” Yuffie’s reply was surprisingly grim, considering her usual disposition, “Fat chance Rufus is even gonna care, he’ll probably fire you if you even bring it up.”

Looking ahead again, Seventh Heaven coming into view now, you went quiet. 

He might fire me…and something worse.

“Ah! That reminds me!”

Yuffie’s hand suddenly snatched your wrist, as she tugged you along towards the bar door.

“I have someone I want you to meet~!”

…

Rufus called you into his office sharp the next morning. It wasn’t unusual for him to command your presence at any hour, the man was busy and always had things he needed organized and attended to. But on this occasion, for some reason, you just had the most awful feeling in your gut.

Like this was a different sort of call.

When you entered his office, you noticed most of the lights were off and that the curtains had been drawn, despite the fact it was daytime. The atmosphere was so heavy it felt like a smack to the face when you walked in, and you saw Rufus sitting tensely at his desk, leaning down closely over his papers, leafing through them.

“You…wanted to see me, sir?” you straightened your back and clasped your hands in front of your pencil skirt, trying to look professional. In the dim, only really illuminated by his desk lamp, your boss didn’t look up, but spoke:

“Close the door, would you [Y/N]?”

Swallowing a little tensely, you looked over your shoulder and noticed you’d indeed left it a crack open. And that was unusual, but it got you wondering about your own actions. That feeling that something was very wrong…you’d already taken a little precaution.

Yet you did as you said and shut it tight, before turning to face him again. Rufus shuffled the papers he was reading (but not really) into a tight little pile and set them aside, before finally looking up at you with those icy, sharp eyes, fitting for a man as cold as himself.

His slender hands clasped beneath his chin.

“Come closer to my desk, we need to talk.”

“We need to talk.”

Words that people rarely wanted to hear. Your uneasiness grew, but nonetheless you did as he said, walking over and standing there diligently as he leaned back in his chair and looked at you.

“...Typically, I wouldn’t question what one of my employees does outside of work hours. Because, most of the time, it’s innocuous. But you aren’t just any old employee, you’re my closest assistant. And what you’re doing has not been innocuous, has it [Y/N]?”

Your throat tightened, and your fists clenched by your sides a little bit, as you made your very best effort to stay composed. He knew. He knew you had friends in Sector 7. He probably suspected you of collaborating with AVALANCHE. That was probably exactly what this was about.

Yet what could you do? Throw your friends under the bus? The whole reason you’d taken this job in the first place was so you could hopefully save up enough to help them all get a better life than being stuck in the slums. You couldn’t screw them over.

“I…don’t understand, sir? What do you mean?”

Rufus closed his eyes and breathed out, clearly irritated. When he set his gaze on you again, it was harsher than before.

“Let’s cut to the chase. I know you have friends in Sector 7.”

Game over.

“I-”

“And it’s concerning because-” Rufus stood up from his chair, towering over you in an instant, “-we have known enemies in that area. I can’t help but wonder…”

He circled around his desk, and then around you, and you felt his long jacket lightly brush the back of your shoulder.

“...Are you intending to sabotage Shinra?”

With him behind you like that, for the moment, you didn’t need to hide your alarm. It showed plain as day on your face, your paranoid worry. Horrific possibilities flashed through your mind, images of your friends being captured and tortured, Seventh Heaven burning to a cinder, an entire district destroyed. All because you had a few friends you liked to drink with.

“Sir-!”

Quickly you spun around and looked up at him, hesitating, before turning to face him fully. Your palm pressed to your chest in a gesture of loyalty,

“I would never betray Shinra, I can promise you that!”

Rufus’ eyes narrowed. He already knew you weren’t necessarily plotting, though the potential was there…

“Then why associate with Sector 7 rats?”

Trying not to be irked by the term he used, you bowed your head obediently, coming up with a half-truth; “I have…friends there. I am reluctant to judge someone simply because of where they reside, and besides, I don’t think they have any bad intentions-”

Looking up at him again, you hoped your expression and words made a convincing enough combo:

“I figured too that maybe I could sway some of those people to our side! Spread the good word about Shinra, help your influence grow even down in the slums. I only meant well…”

It was funny. He already knew you were lying about that, but honestly? You still seemed convincing. If he didn’t know better…

Then again, it didn’t really matter. Because at the end of the day, espionage wasn’t his actual concern. As he’d already said, they were rats, easily exterminated.

No…it was something else.

“...Who would you say you are closest to there?” Rufus took a step towards you, casting you more deeply in his shadow. You resisted the urge to back away.

“I…I would say…it’s hard to choose, sir. My friends are my friends-”

“I’m not referring to ‘friends’.”

You paled. Did he know that much?

“Sir-”

“Who were you with last night?”

“Sir I-”

“Who?”

A tiny whimper left your lips, and Rufus was surprised for a moment. It was the first time he’d heard you react that way. He supposed he hadn’t expected it. But perhaps you knew how serious this was for him. Perhaps you too had some inkling of what had been happening on his own side of things.

“I…I was set up on a surprise date…sir.”

You flushed a little bit. It wasn’t really any of his concern who you saw in your love life, right? Then why was this making you so nervous?

“Ah. That’s correct.”

Rufus stepped around your side again, this time though, he traced his touch against your arm and shoulder, caressing you in a way you would have never expected from him. His words were like melted menace:

“Finally, some honesty. You were with a man last night, an ex-Soldier. At the Seventh Heaven bar, and I presume it was that Yuffie girl who introduced the two of you? And I suppose she knows him because of Cloud…who also seems quite fond of you.”

Staring straight ahead, standing rigidly there, you were speechless. You thought back to how warily Yuffie had been looking everywhere yesterday, how on edge she was. It didn’t seem like she had been messing around. She was right.

Someone had been watching you.

“I-I don’t know what you mean, sir-”

“I think you do.” his hand came to a rest near the back of your neck, a position that filled you with fear as you suddenly considered the possibility that he could hurt you if he wanted to.

He would, if he wanted to.

“They aren’t the only examples of men in your life who seem interested in you, many of whom are slum rats too. I think you know that. I think that’s precisely why you’re always going there.”

His fingers tightened slightly, and you flinched. 

“...I…sir I-”

“Don’t bother.”

Finally letting you go, Rufus circled back around so he was standing before you again. His hand curled beneath his chin now, his lips in a smug smirk.

“There’s no need to lie to me [Y/N], I know the truth. You may as well drop the act.”

Bewildered, you looked up at him with tears starting to form in your eyes. Why did he care so much about that? He seemed more concerned about who you were dating than whether you actually wanted to take Shinra down or not.

Almost as if he…

“Are you starting to gather my meaning now?”

Rufus watched with some amusement as realization glimmered in your eyes,

“Are you beginning to understand how I see you?”

Stepping up to you once more, he let his digits slip up beneath your chin, tilting your head so you were made to look at him.

“Not just an employee. Much more than that. And I feel no need to hide it anymore.”

His gloved hand switched position to a harsher grip on your jaw,

“So…now that you’re aware, I expect you to set things right.”

You weren’t even sure you could speak, you were so taken aback by all of this. You could only tremble as he leaned in closer, feeling his breath dusting your cheeks, practically nose-to-nose with you.

“I expect you to be mine. And mine alone.”

…

Setting things right…meant cutting ties.

Not just with that man. With everyone in Sector 7. 

With Tifa, with Yuffie, with Cloud, Barret and the rest. With Seventh Heaven and the slum marketplace. With the church where you helped Aerith plant flowers sometimes. With everything you’d truly come to cherish in your life. With the entire reason…that you had joined Shinra in the first place.

The next day came, and in the evening, you invited your friends to the bar–all of them who could make it. Cait Sith was busy over at the Golden Saucer, but Cid had promised to pass on the ‘news’ to him–whatever the ‘news’ was.

They probably thought it was something positive or exciting, which made this even more heartbreaking. You didn’t know if it was kinder or crueler that Rufus had allowed you to meet them all in person for this. Well, not so much ‘allowed’ as ‘forced’.

“Everyone…” you stood at the bar and cleared your throat, “I brought you all here because I…I have an announcement to make…”

Yuffie leaned in close to Aerith and whispered; “I think she and that guy must be dating!”

Aerith giggled gently in response, but hushed her.

“I…um…”

Having all their attention on you, all those hopeful eyes, was hard enough. But the pressure was only amplified by knowing that Rufus had Shinra guards all around the perimeter of this place. Not just Seventh Heaven, but all throughout the entire Sector. 

“If you don’t go through with it, you know what will happen.”

“...I…”

Tifa had been watching you warily all night. Somehow she had sensed that something wasn’t right, she had a pretty good knack for that. This didn’t seem normal, and now she was staring at you with even more scrutiny. What were you so scared about?

She almost spoke up herself, but that was when you finally found the courage. 

“...I’m leaving Sector 7. Uh-” you quickly corrected yourself, “I’m not moving because obviously I don’t even…live here in the first place but…what I mean is, I’m not coming back. To visit or anything. This…it’s the last time you’re probably ever gonna see me…”

Rufus, meanwhile, was sitting in his office watching the live feed with amusement. He leaned forward, observing your pretty face through the screen, smiling to himself as you awkwardly delivered the words he’d hoped you would.

“Good girl…” he murmured, and relaxed in his leather chair again.

“Huh? Wait, you’re leaving us?” Aerith’s smile dropped in an instant, and Barret stood up from his table so suddenly and roughly he almost knocked it over,

“That’s bullshit, what the hell are you talking about [Y/N]!?”

“[Y/N]...” Tifa breathed, staring at you. Even she hadn’t expected that.

“I-I’m sorry, I need to go now-”

You moved to push out of the bar, unable to handle this any longer, your companions blocking your way. They were surrounding you in an instant, almost like an enemy ambush. 

“Hey come on, you aren’t being serious, right?” Yuffie clasped your arm, Aerith lingering closely, her hands together prayerfully.

“Leaving us so suddenly, I don’t understand…”

Tifa closed in on your other side, eyes narrowed. Her suspicions were confirmed, and she asked you point blank:

“[Y/N], is there something wrong? Is Shinra making you do this?”

“No-”

“I bet that’s what this is.” Cloud uttered, his hand already reaching up to grip the hilt of his sword as he looked over at the door ominously, “They’re probably onto us. Those bastards…”

Little did he know, as soon as he walked out that door with any ill intent to the company, he could be riddled with bullets. You needed to get out of here and back to Rufus stat, you couldn’t afford to screw things up.

“Really I have to go-”

“Now just hold on a second, why don’t we sit down and talk about this properly?” Cid suggested, but Barret clenched his fist.

“I ain’t about talkin’, I think she’s in trouble! Are you, [Y/N]??”

You attempted to tug and pull away, but more people gathered, all trying to talk to you, convince you, question you. Your heart rate rose, your panicked mind could only envision them all getting hurt if you didn’t find some way of convincing them. Trying to tell them to stop wasn’t working. At this rate-

You blurted out the words before you even thought them through:

“I…I can’t STAND YOU!”

You snapped, everyone recoiling.

“ANY of you! You’re all just, just–”

You bit back tears.

“SLUM RATS!”

…

It must have been an hour that you lay there, sobbing into the bedsheets. That moment kept replaying in your mind, the utter shock and disappointment on all their faces. How they had all recoiled from you suddenly as if you were the vermin.

And, you felt like you were. How could you have said such a thing?

But it worked. And Rufus was very happy with you.

When you had returned to him that night, you had been a simpering, sobbing mess, but his arms had drawn you into an embrace, and his lips had claimed yours like he was giving you some sort of reward.

“Good girl. I knew you’d be able to do it.”

His hand had stroked through your hair, down your cheek, thumb dabbing away your tears. There had been no real comfort in it. He was so twistedly satisfied, it made you feel sick.

And now, you were in a cage. Rufus had your belongings moved from your apartment in Upper Sector 7, into his own fancy penthouse home, and here you were now, curled up on the bed you were set to share, crying into the satin pillow.

For some, being claimed as Rufus’ Shinra’s lover would have been an absolute dream come true. Handsome, wealthy, powerful. It was an enticing combination.

But for you, this was a nightmare. All you could think was how much you yearned for your friends, and dreaded what Rufus might do to you now that he had complete control over you.

As if on cue, the door to the bedroom opened, and the man himself entered the darkened room.

“Oh [Y/N]...you’re still upset?”

He spoke in a mockery of sympathy, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. His hand reached and stroked your hair, and you only curled up smaller, defensively.

“I’m sure in time you’ll be able to understand that this was a good thing for you too.” he said, and you whimpered softly as his hands took your shoulders and made you turn onto your back, forcing you to look up at him directly.

“Won’t you, [Y/N’]?”

You stared up at him weakly, emotionally and physically drained after everything. It felt like your whole life had been ruined. This was all you had now. His hands on you, his lips on yours when he leaned down and kissed you again. He had no collar or cuffs on you, but you were practically his prisoner.

Unless AVALANCHE really could take Shinra down somehow, you’d likely never have freedom again. You were his, and there was no escaping it now.

As he pulled away, gently, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and gazed down at you with a kind of enamored, blissful expression. No wonder. He finally had what he wanted, after so long.

“Don’t worry, [Y/N]. This may seem tough at first, but you’ll come to understand. I did all this because I love you. This is the best way I can protect you.”

He laid beside you, his typical jacket removed so he was in his tight black work shirt, his broader, stronger body pressing against your back. Both arms looped around your middle and tugged you back a little too tightly against him. A cage within a cage.

“You may not gather that now, but you will. This is the only way I can make sure nobody ever hurts you.”

As his lips met your neck, drifting down your collarbone, you could only stare at the wall ahead of you weakly, making out the faint intricate details in the dark. If what he had really wanted was for you to never get hurt, he would have never made you do that in the first place. 

If he really loved you, he wouldn’t have done any of it. Maybe he called it ‘love’, but you couldn’t. It was only obsession. Corrupted, twisted obsession.

“Now that you’re mine, you won’t ever need to worry about anything again.” Rufus assured you, like he was trying to convince you between kisses, “You’ll never want for anything, I’ll pay for it all. I can even get you a pet if you’re feeling lonely. And if you’re good, we can take a trip together somewhere special. There’s so much I’m willing to do for you, you’ll see…”

Rufus, whether from delusion or simply cruel satisfaction, couldn’t stop smiling.

Whether she eventually loves me back or not, I suppose it doesn’t matter.

I have what I want.

“You’ll soon be living a life most girls could only dream of. And you’ll be safe from anyone who would try to hurt you…”

Or take you away from me…

“You’ll be grateful for it, I’m sure. You just need some time…”

Your nails dug into the sheets below you, gripping them like a lifeline. You might have turned around and given him a cracking slap in the face right then and there if you hadn’t been so afraid of how he might react.

The fact he really thought you’d ever be grateful for any of this, was insanity. 

“Get some rest. You don’t need to go to work tomorrow, I’ll have one of my other employees take care of things.” Rufus finally rose from the bed again, letting you go. As he reached the door, he glanced back over at you with a smug look on his face,

“See? I’m concerned about you. I only want you to be happy.”

As soon as he was out of the room, you scoffed and rolled over onto your other side, curling up tight again.

“‘Happy’...what a sick joke…” you sniffled, and closed your eyes.

Maybe if you tried hard enough, you’d wake up from this nightmare. Maybe that was all it was.

A terrible, terrible dream.

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SAPPHIRE | TIDUS x YUNA | FINAL FANTASY X

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. A/N: I WILL SHIP THEM TIL' THE END OF TIME.

Though the memories were faint, they still remained.

Yuna tucked a short brunette strand of hair behind her ear delicately, and walked with a gentle gait. The air carried the smell of salt upon it, the streets of Zanarkand wholly illuminated in festive lights. Crowds of people came brushing past but few really noticed her.

Her hand lowered and clasped with her other before the long skirt she wore. She walked in pensive silence, consistently thinking back. Back to the display she had seen in that arena. That grand orb of collected water...

Tidus had many fans, and she soon saw why. His prowess as a Blitzball player was truly unrivalled. He was weightless, like a bullet speeding through the azure around him, breaking through the blue and sometimes bursting up out of it in an explosion of droplets. He flipped and dove and only earned all the more admiration from his fans with his showy performance.

It was like something from a dream. Yuna was mesmerized by his form, never taking her eyes off it for even a single second. And she swore, as he came soaring down through the air towards his opponents lair again, that those bold blue eyes of his met with her own mismatched hues. Perhaps that was just wishful thinking on her part, but when he plummeted into the water again she felt a heat touching her cheeks.

That heat remained, but so too did the confusion, long after the match concluded and she walked out of there. As she looked up at the peaceful night sky she couldn't shake the feeling.

Do I know him from somewhere? He seemed so...familiar...

Her head shook those thoughts away. Silly. How could she know someone she never met before? It wasn't like she mingled with celebrities, she was just a regular girl, busy with her studies. She lived a pretty normal life here.

Yuna decided the best thing to take her mind off it all would be some food, and so that became her first priority. There was a restaurant not far from Tidus' boat house, so she subtly chose to go there and have a meal. She nibbled on her crustacean omelette while watching the various fangirls crowding around the area. She supposed that Tidus wouldn't show up for a while, yet it actually didn't take him long to suddenly come jogging over out of the blue, no doubt hoping to flop down in bed and rest after that match.

The screams that ensued were loud enough that she actually had to set down her cutlery and cover her ears. Wow...he really was popular, wasn't he?

Though as Yuna's eyes settled and watched him signing autographs, she couldn't deny that her own heart was pounding. She gripped the fork harder in her hand, trembling a bit while she watched him. Why did she feel this urge to rush over there and hug him? And why did it feel less like a fan's desperation...and more like a need to be reunited?

Had they met in the past? She felt like she had memories of him yet nothing was so tangible. It was a source of fear for her, feeling this way, for she simply couldn't understand it. How could anyone?

It didn't make sense at all...

Yet she was compelled. Compelled, once the crowd died down and she finished her food, to approach this sandy haired, tan skinned boy who she recalled from some distant past. He drew her in like a magnet until her delicate self was standing behind his form at the door. And she piped up with some sheepishness:

“T...Tidus?”

Of course she stuttered, nerves had gotten the better of her. She was even trembling a little while she looked at his back, saw the way it froze before he could enter his houseboat. The boy gradually turned, and the moment their eyes truly met with one another they both widened. A sharp thump attacked the centre of her chest, heart feeling like it could have burst through it entirely. Her breathing was quick, her palms a little clammy.

Tidus...

He turned to her gradually, the sea breeze ruffling his lightly hued strands.

Tidus...star player of the Zanarkand Abes...

The boy took a step her way, his gaze never leaving her for a moment.

Tidus...

The boy who appeared one day. On the shores of Besaid-

...Besaid? Do I know of such a place?

Yuna's breath hitched. Finally it hit her. The memory that had eluded her for so long, like water trickling down between her fingers. The crisp, clean water that had surrounded their island. Water that she now saw reflected in those sapphire eyes of his.

She cupped it safely in her hands and held it close to her heart.

Summoner Yuna...was what they called me. He accompanied me on my pilgrimage. He was my Guardian...he protected me so many times. I almost became another's but yet...he saved me.

...I loved him. I loved Tidus.

...I still do.

She might have cried when she remembered that most bitter truth. When she had to face that horrible fact that had always been niggling at the back of her mind. Something which so threatened the world around her that she didn't dare say it, for fear of making it all vanish.

None of this is real. Is it?

He stood before her now. So close she wanted to stretch out her arms and hug him, pull him close again as he had once done so with her. They existed in the same world now. Forever here...destined to be together. Though it hurt to discover you were dead...it also brought with it a strange sort of comfort. He would no longer be alone here as he had been once before. This warmly lit paradise was theirs...and it would stretch on eternally.

As her arms did stretch for him. Yuna saw a smile break out upon his face, and a tender one graced her own lips too.

Finally, they could be-

“Do you want an autograph?”

She seized up, and her arms paused their ascent, subtly lowering again. Tidus came ever closer, grinning obliviously while clasping his hand around the back of his neck. “I guess I can do one more today.”

The world seemed to become vague again. This place surely had to be a dream after all, for that was how it felt. Intangible. Nonsensical even.

He'd brought her here by his own will. Those final moments they had shared as they had sunk deeper and deeper into the blue had been punctuated by that simple wish. A wish that would allow them to cross the threshold together, hand in hand, knowing that they had succeeded in life, even if death was now greeting them.

It hadn't seemed like such a cold embrace then.

Yet despite that...he didn't remember. Perhaps he would eventually, as she had done so. Yet perhaps he never would. He might live out the rest of his days obliviously. They might be forced to start from the very beginning again.

But...was that really so bad after all?

In this distant, dreamy place, they'd start a new life. One that Sin would never touch nor take away again. It would take time, granted. But time wasn't something that either of them had to worry about anymore.

Despite it all, despite that touch of sadness in her expression, she still met his wide and happy smile with one of her own. Perhaps she even let out a little laugh, just like he taught her.

“...Please. If I may.”

“Sure, have something I can sign?” Tidus questioned, and Yuna simply lifted an arm again, holding out her pale and perfect skin before him. Blinking a few times, his cheeks flushed a bit and he kept scratching his neck. “Ah, you sure? I dunno if this pen is permanent...”

“I'm sure.” Yuna nodded.

Shrugging, his touch soon gently curled around her limb, drawing it a little closer to him. The feel of his warm palm against her skin, the slightly rough touch of the glove he wore, it only reminded her of so much more. The hot tear that dripped down her cheek went unnoticed, and for that she was grateful.

He ought to be happy now. She hoped she'd share that same happiness soon.

Tidus looked up at her, pen at the ready.

“What's your name?”

She bowed her head a little.

“Yuna.”

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CHASE | YANDERE!KARMA AKABANE x READER | ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. Content Warnings: Yandere / Gunplay / Non-con touch/kiss A/N: Redheads are hot. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

“You can't run from me, [Y/N]~”

You had never been so scared in your entire life. The sound of his pounding footsteps pursuing you sleekly around each and every corner, through every single hallway, was like a steadily approaching death bell.

This school was as good as abandoned after what he'd done. Your classmate Karma had always been known to be violent, sick and twisted tastes manifested in him deeply enough that others could tell easily. For him to turn on all of you though...that was beyond fathoming.

The bloody mess had almost incorporated you too, but luckily he let you run.

And he did let you. He allowed it. 

This was what he had really been waiting for. You were his ultimate prize, to be won after a little more effort. The rest of them were far too easy.

Though when he caught you, was he going to kill you? Actually...he had different intentions. 

Killing you would be a waste. Keeping you though, now there was an idea he could get behind.

You were all he wanted now.

“Shit...shit shit!” you whimpered softly to yourself, skirting around another corner and sprinting up one of the exit staircases. It was your intention to escape to an upper floor and make your way to the other side of the building, hopefully misleading him.

Unfortunately, this particular passage ended up being a dead end. To your dismay, you found yourself facing a locked door, standing heavy in your way. There was no getting through it, and the only other way was to backtrack down the stairs again.

When you spun around though, you saw him advancing on you.

“Haa-!!” yelping in terror, you quickly backed up to the wall and hit it. Karma's hands reached out and planted themselves firmly either side of your head, his shadow consuming you. In that darkness his golden eyes glowed more cruelly than you'd ever seen them before.

All he did was look at you initially. Silently.

Yet eventually you saw his darker gestures showing. His tongue, poking out past his lips and running itself smoothly between them, over his teeth teasingly.

“I finally caught you. Now...what to do with you, hmm?”

The gun in his hand pressed up against the underside of your chin, and he tilted your head with a thrust.

“How does that feel, eh? Nice?”

“Mmm--” you cringed, pursing your trembling mouth and looking away from him. Was he going to kill you? Was this it?

Shutting your eyes tightly, you kept your head turned. Then, eventually, you felt something.

It wasn't a bullet piercing your fragile neck. It was him.

A kiss, pressed to your cheek. Your eyes flashed open when it happened, and you quivered, sensing his kisses trailing lower, planting themselves against the side of your neck, your shoulder blade, his hot breath making you quake all the more.

“Don't worry, [Y/N].”

His voice uttered lowly, sultry by your ear.

“Your my prize. I'm going to make sure I cherish you...”

Karma pushed his body against yours again, and let his gun glide down your side, shifting over your curves along in tandem with his other hand. 

“All of you.”

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SIREN [PART I] | YANDERE!MAKOTO x MERMAID!READER | FREE!

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. Content Warnings: Yandere / Kidnapping A/N: I always wanted to be a mermaid as a kid. I blame H20. The song I quote at the start is from the M. Night Shyamalan movie [The Village]. And, I will die on this hill; that movie is REALLY GOOD and so beautiful and people just hated it because they expected a horror and got a period piece romance instead. Boo.

“Baby sleep...gently sleep. Life is long and love is deep. Time there'll be...sweet for thee. All the world to see...”

The dark waters that surrounded you were an odd comfort, though perhaps that was thanks to the bright, pure moon that hung above you in the sky. The song you sang while sitting upon that rock and letting your glittering tail dance below the sea's surface, was not intended to lure any unsuspecting soul into danger. Yet still, you wanted to sing, and that was why you always chose the most secluded time and spot to do it.

Or so you thought.

Yet you had become aware of a strange feeling recently, each time you had swam out here to this obscure part of the Japanese coast. The sensation that you were being watched by a pair of gentle eyes. Somehow though...it didn't discourage you.

But it should have.

That fateful night happened when you were singing that soft lullaby again into the open air, and you heard sudden footsteps nearby up on the shoreline. Immediately you made to leap into the water again when someone called out to you:

“Wait!”

That voice. It sounded so soft and tender. It made you hesitate, and you dared to turn and look at the human standing there on the outcrop.

You didn't think you had ever seen such gentle green eyes. Not among your own folk, nor among any humans you had happened to catch a glimpse of. They glowed in the dim night, looking over at you with intrigue and hope. The tall boy had his hand stretched out towards you, as if he wanted to clutch you and keep you from vanishing.

Socializing with humans was the number one no-no for mermaids. These worlds were meant to remain separate, for those who were the elders among your family and friends believed that humans would only take your kind in for testing and freak shows, not to treat them as equals. They were a marvel to be...marveled at, so to speak.

Yet the younger ones such as yourself, well you didn't quite see it that way. There was so much intrigue there. The desire to meet and understand these tailless people. It grew tiresome, always having to avoid busy beaches and bays. It grew boring, never being able to spend time with anyone but those who were native to your own ocean.

Plus...the dry land...the 'surface world' so to speak, well there was something so fascinating about it. Sometimes you would swim at a far distance past exciting piers, and you'd see glowing wheels and spirals that intrigued you, picking up on the joyous sound of people just having fun.

You couldn't walk among them though. No matter what you and your peers may have wanted, it wasn't up to you. The elders decided the rules, and you had to stick with them, or you'd be banished and left to swim alone forever.

“...” Knowing that, you made to dive again, but that boy was persistent:

“No don't go! I just want to talk!”

Talk...just a little talking...

That wouldn't be so bad, right?

Torn, you found yourself slipping into the water anyway, but you didn't swim beneath it just yet. Instead you turned your head enough to look at him again, peeking just above the froth.

The moonlight illuminated a surprising number of his features. Those emerald eyes of course. Short and slightly shaggy olive brown hair, and a figure that truly towered on that rock. He didn't look like any businessman nor evil scientist. Just a regular teenager.

Just a normal person.

...You couldn't help yourself. Normal people were just so...fascinating.

…

Makoto Tachibana.

You came to learn his name that night you first saw him, but the other details came to light over several more visits. You didn't stop coming to the rock, and he didn't quit coming to the beach. Though you still kept your distance, you would sit there calmly while he perched on his spot, and you would converse with one another.

Over time, you came to learn a lot about him. He was a swim club member at Iwatobi High School. He liked cats. He was the type who got scared easily, but he still liked coming to this peaceful beach at night, since few people knew about it. As it turned out, he had actually been coming here longer than you, but had made more frequent visits when he discovered your presence here.

“You see...when I first saw you I thought that you were in a costume...or that maybe it was a trick of the moonlight. But then I realized you really were a mermaid.”

Makoto let his long legs dangle off the rock edge, the tips of his trainers just managing to grace the water.

“And...were you shocked?” you asked him, keeping your spot on the smooth flat rock but still watching him with a feasibly trusting gaze.

Makoto hummed and tilted his head to the side, palms patting against the outcrop he was sitting upon.

“I guess I was but...it wore off quickly. I heard your singing and I was just amazed. You have such a beautiful voice...”

When he looked at you, straightly so, the first thing you thought was how he had a gorgeous tone without even trying. The second that came to mind was one of guilt.

“...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you hear me sing. It's dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Makoto questioned, cocking his head the other way, and you sighed with a nod.

“Yes. A mermaid's song...in our history it was used by some to lure unsuspecting sailors into the water...so they could be drowned. Though of course-!” you were quick to hold your hands up, “-I would never even dream of doing that to somebody! But these little lullabies...they can still have an effect on people. That's the superstition anyway.”

There was a pause between you, where all you could hear was the gentle shifting of the waves.

“...If you're worried that I'm only here because I'm in a trance then you're wrong.” Makoto suddenly piped up, and your own eyes went wide. He smiled so genuinely that it gave you a pang in your chest. Was this wrong or was it right? You were breaking the rules technically but...but those rules were so ancient! How did they have any relevance anymore?

No. This had to be some turn of destiny. Why else would you have both ended up in such a secret place at the same time? Why else would you have connected straight off the bat like this?

Swallowing down any remaining hesitations you had, you decided to just go for it. Smoothly you let yourself plunge into the water again, and Makoto almost stood up.

“Wait, are you leaving?”

“No.” you surfaced quickly again so he knew you were still there, and saw him relax.

“Then...what are you-”

“Just stay right there.”

As confused as he was, Makoto obeyed, and he watched in ever increasing awe as you swam towards him smoothly. Eventually you reached his shoes, and tentatively you reached up past the tongue of one, allowing your fingertips to very gently, very gracefully, stroke his ankle.

Makoto stiffened, but didn't jerk away. He was just shocked that you had decided to do this...but of course it made him so happy.

As for you, well, you were fascinated. It was so weird, the idea of someone having legs instead of a tail. They seemed so alien, yet they were soft and...nice. Everything about him was nice.

Makoto was nice.

Humans were nice.

You didn't know why you'd ever worried.

“...Shall we swim together?”

Your bold suggestion came as the second surprise for him, but damn if he was going to reject the offer. Makoto nodded shyly, cheeks already flushed magenta as you pulled back a bit and gave him room. Probably for the sake of modesty, he only took his shoes off before he leapt right in, plummeting into the water beside you.

It was hard not to be even further enthralled. His form as he had dove...it was so effortless and smooth. You'd been swimming all your life, literally, yet you were certain he was far more graceful than you had ever been. When he surfaced next to you, you finally got the chance to look straight at his face rather than craning to look up at the miniature cliff.

He really was just as handsome up close. Not that you had assumed he wouldn't be.

Though you had assumed some other things, and you were sorry for it.

“Makoto...”

You reached beneath the water, taking his larger hands in your own.

“I should have trusted you sooner. I apologize.”

Only smiling, he pulled you a little bit closer to his chest. The moon reflected around you bot as he leaned down a little closer, until the tip of his defined nose was touching yours.

“It's okay. I'm just happy I can be a part of your life now...”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you just let him take the lead. His lips tenderly pressed to yours, and you relaxed against him, kissing him deeply in the clutch of the sea.

When you eventually parted, he looked down at you again and smiled ever so gently, just as he always did.

“Can you tell me your name then? I still don't know.”

“Ah, right.” you'd deliberately withheld it, but there was no point in that now. “It's [Y/N].”

“[Y/N]...” he softly stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. “...I'm so happy I found you...”

Smiling too, you allowed him to embrace your almost unbelievable form, and you wrapped your arms snugly around him in return.

You didn't realize it then. You couldn't see.

Those gentle green eyes of his didn't quite look the same anymore...

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