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yandere-writer-momo · 3 months

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Yandere Head Canons:

Sacrificial Bride

Yandere Dragon Shifter x Princess Reader

TW: Yandere behavior, manipulation, Somniaphilia (suggested), delusional yandede, complacency, etc.

Feroc the Ferocious was the kind of dragon who would bring any silly knight to their knees. The kind of dragon that inspired legends and stories to be written in books. The kind of dragon that was larger than any castle human like could ever dream to build. The kind of dragon that could decimate a kingdom with a single breath of his fiery flames if he was angered… the dragon that your own people sacrificed you, the princess, to in order to save themselves from his wrath.

And so they bound you up and threw you before him. Your own father on his knees as he begged the great dragon for mercy in exchange for his own flesh and blood… the kingdom’s most prized beauty in exchange for peace. An offer Feroc quickly accepted before the king could utter another word!

Dragons collected beautiful treasures! Dragons hoarded their treasure in caves and abandoned castles fad from prying eyes… and unbeknownst to you, Feroc found you to be rhetorical most beautiful

For dragons, a sacrificial spouse was an ancient tradition and this was the first time he’d been offered such a perfect bride! How could he refuse you? Especially when your own people begged him so prettily? Would you beg for him just as beautifully one day?

And so you were scooped up in his ginormous talons and carried away in the sky to a lone tower deep in the mountains. Your new home… your home with Feroc.

You could recall how scared of him you used to be. You’d heard from many people of how this giant scaled beast before you was a man eater. Of how he swallowed many knights in his time… yet this dragon seemed so shy from your experience so far. Skittish even.

Feroc often brought you various jewelry and fine silks from his daily raids. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t bring you a gift of some kind. His molten eagerly studied your form despite his persistent silence. Feroc’s company disturbed you as much as it comforted you.

It took a month for him to speak to you. His accent was heavy from the olden tongue he spoke but he knew the same language you spoke. His voice was booming and low, it could easily strike terror in others… but for some reason, his voice calmed you. Perhaps loneliness has finally crept its fangs into your heart? You weren’t sure…

Feroc would bring you anything you wanted to eat. Within means, of course. He’d bring you delicacies he’d likely looted off some poor caravan if you said you wanted sweets. There was no extremes he wouldn’t go to for you, which was odd since he was a dragon who’s been around for hundred of years… why did Feroc have such an interest in a human princess?

One day, you had a nightmare of a man standing in the corner of your room. Your scream in the night quickly alerted your guardian who peaked his large eye in your room in worry.

“Princess? What’s wrong?”

“I just had a nightmare… I thought there was a man in my room.” You wiped the sweat from your forehead while Feroc clicked his tongue.

“No man could ever scale his tower. I’m the only one who can enter. I’d never let anyone harm you.” The red and black dragon grumbled, his molten eyes glanced you once over. “Why? Do you… want a human companion?”

“I do get lonely sometimes.” You admitted to Feroc . His eyes now filled with hurt. “I do enjoy your company but… I miss being able to touch another human.”

Feroc didn’t understand your sentiment. He was a might dragon! The strongest of his kind! Feroc has proven himself to be the best of mates to you and yet you were still displeased? Was it because he was a dragon? Would you be happier if he showed you his other form?

“I’ll figure something out then… get some sleep.”

Feroc now snuck in your bedroom when you slept. He ghosted his clawed fingers over your oblivious form in wonder. His clawed fingers were too sharp, he’d have to dull them more… he didn’t want to cut up his pretty princess!

Feroc’s gentle touches progressed when he noticed how heavy of a sleeper you were. His desire to see what made you human drove him to insatiable heights. No area was left unexplored with his eyes. He needed to be perfect. Feroc had to be compatible with you. You and him were going to have young one day, after all! Feroc didn’t want to harm you in the process!

Feroc was able to mold his body into a perfect man. Once that was the perfect size for you, yet still immense so you’d know it was him. Feroc now stood at a massive seven feet tall rather than the hundred feet of his dragon form.

Yet there was a constant fear within him that you’d die of old age or of natural causes… Feroc knew humans were fragile creatures so he did what he had to. Feroc shared half of his heart with you while you slept. It was a simple spell and a painless procedure for you. One that would benefit the both do you in the long run!

If one of you died, the other would! You’d never age! You now shared a lifespan with him. Feroc couldn’t wait to tell you once the two of you made everything official!

It took another month for him to reveal this perfect form to you. Feroc had to let the excitement die down from sharing his heart with you so you didn’t freak out! Humans were such finicky creatures, after all! And he’d be an awful mate if he frightened you with a subject you had no knowledge on…

All you needed was to see this devilishly beautiful form of his and you’d be bewitched.

“Look at us… we’re so beautiful together.” Feroc whispered into the skin of your shoulder as he admired your reflection beside him. “I think I’ll find you more gold to decorate you with, my treasure.”

“Feroc, I don’t understand.” You jump when Feroc dragged his forked tongue across your exposed shoulder.

“You accepted all of my gifts and you’re the only one who suits me.” Feroc hissed his obsidian eyes flashed a bright gold. “Wouldn’t you rather be by my side than in my stomach?”

You gulped and obediently rested your head on his chest which made him purr in contentment. His muscular arms wrapped around yours as his wavy black hair tickled your skin.

“I’m joking, I’d never eat you.” Feroc smiled before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “You’re my bride, after all.”

You didn’t need to know about how many knights he’s killed over the last few months for you. Feroc would take care of you until the day the both of you died. Every heinous act he’s ever committed over these last few months were all for his beautiful, blushing bride.

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aenramsden · 3 months

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The following is not my idea; it was the original brainchild of a friend of mine named Omicron, with help from various others including EarthScorpion, TenfoldShields, @havocfett and ShintheNinja:

So, you know what I want to do one day? Run (or play in) a D&D campaign in which the Big Bad Super Dragon that is fuckoff ancient and unfathomably powerful and whose actions have shaped history and bent the course of nations and had repercussions on the whole culture and society in the region where it's set; the Bonus Special Boss for some endgame optional quest after you defeat the direct BBEG and win the campaign...

... is a white dragon.

To explain this for people not deep into 5e monster lore; D&D dragons are sapient beings, and known for their instincts and tendencies, and whenever you meet an big evil dragon that's really old it's usually this ancient creature of terrible intellect Smaug-ing it up all over the place.

Except white dragons are fucking stupid. Like, they're still capable of speech and thought! They're just… feral, hungry morons. And you almost never see them portrayed as ancient wyrms for that reason; they lack majesty. Critical Role did it, yes, but even then, Vorugal is explicitly the most bestial member of the Chroma Conclave, and the others are the more intelligent planners and long-term threats. An ancient white as a nation-defining endboss, though; not a thug for a smarter master but as the strongest and biggest threat around is just not the sort of thing you tend to see.

Adventurers: "Oh wise Therunax the Munificent, gold dragon of Law and Good, what can you tell us adventurers of the evil dragons which rule this land?" Therunax the Munificent, 500-year old Gold Dragon: "Good adventurers, know this: this land is torn apart by the evil of Tiamat's spawn. The eastern marches are the dwelling of Furinar the Plague-Bringer, black dragoness whose hoard is a thousand sicknesses contained in the body of her tributes. The southern volcanic mountains are the roosting of Angrar the Wrathful, the fiery red dragon, who brings magmatic fury on all who do not worship him. And the northern peaks are home to Face-Biter Mike, the oldest and most powerful of all, of whom I dread to speak." Adventurers: "F-Face-Biter Mike???" Therunax: "Oh yes, verily indeed; two thousand years has Mike lived, and his eyes have seen the rise and fall of five empires, and a hundred and score champions have sought to slay him; and each and every one he bit their fucking face off."

Like... I want to see a campaign where Face-Biter Mike is genuinely the most powerful dragon in the region, if not the entire world. Where sometimes he descends on a city to grab himself some meatsicles and causes a localised ice age by the beat of his vast wings and the frigid wastes of his mighty breath and by the chill his mere presence brings to everything for miles around him, and everyone just has to deal with that for the next decade. An entire era of civilization comes to an end, an empire falls, tens of thousands starve in the winter, all because Mike wanted a snack. Where his hoard is an unfathomably vast mass of jewels and artefacts and precious stones frozen in an unmelting glacier, except he is a nouveau riche idiot with fuckall appraising skill, so half of his hoard is coloured glass or worthless knicknacks, and he doesn't give a shit.

"Your Draconic Majesty, this crown is… It's pyrite." "Yeah, well, it's brighter than this dusty old thing made out of real gold, it's my new best treasure. Throw the other one away." "…throw the Burnished Tiara of Bahamut, forged in the First Age of Man, your majesty???" "See? I can't even remember its fucking name." "But my lord-" "DO YOU WANT TO BE A MEATSICLE" "…I will fetch a trash bag, your majesty."

But at the same time, he's not stupid, he's just simple, and in some ways that makes him more dangerous than the usual kinds of scheming Big Bad you see in these things, while simultaneously justifying why Orcus remains on his throne (because he's lazy). Face-Biter Mike doesn't make convoluted plans or run labyrinthine schemes; he just has a talent for violence and a pragmatic, straightforward approach to turning any kind of problem he struggles with into a problem that can be resolved with violence. Face-Biter Mike has one talent and it's horrifying physical power, so his approach to any complicated problem is "how do I turn this into a situation where I can fly down and bite this dude's face off?" with absolutely no regard for the collateral damage or consequences of doing so, because those are also things he can turn into face-bitable problems.

"My lord, the dread necromancer Nikodemion is using his undead dragons to attempt a conquest of the eastern kingdom; his agents are everywhere, his plans are centuries in the making, what can we do against such a mastermind?" "I'm gonna fly over the capital and eat the eastern king." "M-my lord???" "The kingdom will collapse without leadership, Nikodemion will win his war, he'll take the capital and crown himself king." "And that helps us… how?" "Once he does I'll fly over to the capital and eat him." "…" "This is why you advisors all suck. You're all about convoluted plans when the only thing I need to win is know where my enemy is so I can fly down there and eat him. Stop overthinking things."

And, like, yeah, it's a simplistic plan, but when you're several hundred tons of nigh invincible magical death, you don't need brilliant strategy; the smartest way to win a war is, in this case, the simplest. He's not even all that clever at figuring out the consequences of face-biting, he's just memorised the common consequences of doing so.

(If you want to go all in on Mike being the major mover and shaker in the region; Nikodemion only even has a pet zombie dragon because Mike killed the last dragon to show up and contest his turf but wasn't going to eat a whole dragon by himself. Nikodemion got to stick around and amass that much power because Mike ate the Hero of the Realm while he was adventuring because he figured the Hero would come and try to slay him at some point. Nikodemion got started because Mike ate half the leadership of the Academy of High Magic who typically keep evil wizards and necromancers in check. And then eventually this product of Mike's casual, careless actions becomes a big enough problem to bother Mike personally, at which point Mike eats him too.)

He doesn't even really fail upwards, either! He is regularly reduced to nothing but the glacier he stores his hoard in, but he's Face-Biter Mike so nobody wants to commit to actually ending him forever lest they get their faces bitten the fuck off. And his hoard's in a huge-ass magical glacier so nobody can get to it without running into the Invading Russia problem; it's hard to wage war when everything is frozen over and you're both starving and freezing to death. Once he's been beaten back to his central lair and has lost all his holdings… I mean, he's still a problem, but he's a far away problem. So he loses his assets and spends a decade in a cave brooding it up while no one dares risk trying to actually kill him, and then a generation or two later he flies down to a kobold colony and gets himself some minions, or a dragon-worshipping mage comes to offer his service against a pittance from his hoard, or a particularly stupid cult starts thinking they can get in good with him and leech off his power, and then he's (hah) snowballing again.

He's also got a very… well, the kind of weird Charisma that Grineer bosses do. Like Sargas Ruk, who's a malformed idiot, but oddly charismatic. As he's a dragon, that makes him a natural sorcerer and thus Charisma is all he needs. He's pretty relaxed when he isn't in a face-biting mood, and he's kind of infectiously optimistic, because his life has taught him that he will succeed as long as he perseveres. So he just believes it.

And sometimes that's really refreshing to work for, as an evil minion of darkness! It's like, you're coming to your Evil Dragon Lord with terrible news; you've worked for evil overlords before, you know how it goes. You fall to your knees weeping and tell him that you've failed to seize the incredibly powerful magical artifact, you think your life is forfeit. And he's just like "Eh, it's okay, these things are all over the place. Better luck next time. You remember the guy who took it, right?" and you go "Y-yes, oh great lord!" and he's like "Sweet tell me his name later and I'll grab it" and then eats a frozen adventurer he kept around as a snack.

His followers tend to quickly realise that if they fail him, bringing some temple's silver or a sack of brightly coloured beads or a couple of dead cows means he's super forgiving because at least he's got something out of the day. "Oh boy, cows? It's been forever since I had those, ever since the Orc Steppe Nomads took over it's all about goats and onions. Today is a good day." He's a master of delegation by dragon standards, in that he just tells you "Just go get it done, I don't care how" rather than micromanaging you and constantly appearing as an image in smoke or taking over your campfire.

The key part of Face-Biter Mike as a threat to players (because he exists in the context of a D&D campaign) works well in that you can rely on several known quantities:

He will not pull sneaky shit that you don't see coming

He will not make convoluted plans that you must work to unravel

He will consistently attempt to come down and wreck you personally if he finds the opportunity and you are a threat to him

You cannot fight him head-on (at least not until the last leg of the campaign, and ideally as an optional boss rather than mandatory)

So as long as you are good at staying under the radar, thwarting his minions (whom he gives broad orders to with almost zero oversight) and not putting yourself in face-biting range, you can deal with him. If you succeed, it won't be the first time Mike has lost his assets and had to go brood in his glacier for a decade or two before rebuilding. It happens; he can deal with it. And that's a win for you within the context of a single campaign, so take the win.

And if you're not going to use him as an enemy, he works pretty well as a quest-giver, too! The costs for failure are obvious and straightforward, and "do whatever, just get me mine" means that players have a lot of freedom in accomplishing their goals. As far as evil overlords go he is actually one of the least dangerous to work for; his pride is relatively subdued by draconic standards, his goals are simple and typically achievable, and he is easily pleased.

(There's also a good chance he is the forefather of any draconic sorcerer in your party, because Face Biter Mike is a deadbeat dad.)

#d&d #face-biter mike #I want this #writing #gaming #advice #funny #criticism #fandom

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