#its like enemies to captor/victim lmao

[running-with-kn1ves]

💢⁉️⁉️pls ignore the ask i sent about like your friends yandere becoming your yandere—cause i realized that it just defeats the whole premise of a yandere😭—but happy 1000 followersss💗

Thank you sm!! And no I totally get what you mean! I love this idea and would honestly love to make like-- a full-fledged thriller off this kind of "switch." When I see these types of yanderes, I dub them as those who obsess very easily and were “made” into yanderes rather than “born” as one. (imo those are the two categories most fall into.) 

But perhaps, they gain an obsession with you that’s not out of complete fondness, but rather rooted in distaste. At first, they find your cockblock behavior annoying, frustrating at most. You’re stopping them from taking what they most desire. But they grow more upset over time as you refuse to back down.

So, they plan to get rid of you. Make it look like an unfortunate accident, they think; something to get you off their back. 

But the more they watch you, the more they see your little quirks and the way you live their life, they find themselves fascinated, intrigued, and maybe even a little.… obsessed. Instead of taking time to track their original obsession, they instead go to stalk you, their fascination disguised as planning your demise. But when the time comes, they can’t seem to get rid of you. Even with you tied up in their basement, begging to be set free either from the chains around your ankles or death, they just can't do it. Something about you has taken hold of them, and they loathe it. They slowly morph from one obsession to another, finding themselves captivated by you and hating it. 

They hate how good it feels, how they want to make you cry and watch you unable to deny yourself of them, how they wave the things you hold dear in front of you only to watch your eyes go wide and see you curl up into yourself. They're unpredictable, one day smothering you in affection and pinning you down roughly, the next carving their name into your back to make sure you understand you’re nothing but a nuisance, nothing but their property. 

They wouldn’t call their obsession “love” or even ever admit to finding you alluringly attractive, even if it's in all the wrong ways. But they’ll show their possessiveness, show how they just can’t let you go. You may hate them, but that just fuels them even more. They feel the need to make you miserable from trying to take something from them, but at the same time they want to watch you come undone underneath them, and smile because of something they've done. They want your everything, and yearn to have it. Eventually, their previous possessiveness over your friend will fade from their mind, something about you now captivating every speck of their attention.

And to them, you were right: they should let go of their obsession with your friend, but only because you’re much better prey.

[wh6res]

sedan | jaemin

—part 2

synopsis. it was only a matter of time until he snapped. he was right, you should've seen it coming.

warnings. noncon, swearing, yandere themes, there’s a knife lmao

note. yalls idk :( it keeps deleting paragraphs when i add a readmore wtf is this sorcery IM SO SORRY

[read part 1]

apparently, your captor had enough respect for your dignity not to take you in the backseat of his old sedan. saying something along the lines of how you had completely ruined the mood by how much you were crying underneath him. “it’s not even pretty crying!” jaemin had exclaimed, hauling you up to your feet and carrying you bridal style towards the house. 

respect? pft. he has long passed the line of respecting your dignity—the moment he forced that drug into your system and shoved you inside his car, he was a goner. 

you don’t bother thrashing against his arms, having thought better. with your wrists and knees duct-taped together, running seemed like a joke. instead, you stare longingly at the outside world over jaemin’s shoulder—it definitely isn’t the last time you’ll see it, but if you were here because of his fucked up possessiveness over you, then escaping will be a challenge. 

three months of working alongside jaemin is enough for you to know how thorough he can be. he’s quite the perfectionist, and you remember admiring his keen attention to detail but now you only fear for the things he has in store for you to make sure you’ll never leave his side. it was due to this train of thought that you involuntarily start shaking against him. the automated lock in the front door beeps into place and now you were stuck here with him, once and for all. 

before you are able to take a look around the house, scoping enemy territory, a hand comes up to cover your eyes. the moment your fingers wrap around his wrist to pry it away, he hisses, and you let go immediately. 

“stay still or else,” you obliged, scared of what he can do now that he has you all to himself inside the house. “i know what you’re thinking. still so fucking predictable. you’d have to earn my trust until i let you roam around here.”

the loud clicks of your restraints locking together prove that he is a man of his word. 

the basement he keeps you in is disgusting. the tiles beneath you are cold, a few leaking pipes in the corner, dust everywhere, and a tiny window across the room—you doubt your chains can reach that far. but what captured your eyes the most is the numerous pillows stuck onto the walls and ceiling. the colors of its casings are faded, none of them matching one another at all. it was as if everything was messily put together at the last minute and you almost feel a tiny bit of relief that maybe, jaemin isn’t as thorough as you thought he’d be. 

“i soundproofed the walls and everything, isn’t that romantic?”

you don’t answer, too caught up thinking about how you’ll stay warm that you don’t notice the way his eyes trail over your shaking figure, knees tucked under your chin, pressing yourself firmly against the wall to appear smaller. to create as much distance from him as possible. 

jaemin frowns in distaste, a low hum resounding in the back of his throat as he thought; no, this won’t do.

“are you cold?” he asks. 

once again, he’s met with silence. 

if there is one thing jaemin absolutely hates with a passion, it was being ignored. the feeling is so foreign to him. maybe it was because of how much he naturally expects to bear the spotlight, that when you refused to even slightly acknowledge him as anything, he was confused. fascinated but frustrated at the same time. 

it is the same frustration he felt when you turned him down. the same frustration he felt when you fought against him. the same frustration he felt when you don’t stop crying underneath him. the same frustration he felt right at this very fucking moment.

“i don’t think ignoring me will do you good, sweetheart. i asked you a question, didn’t i? i’ll say it again, one last time,” the edge in his voice is unmistakable. “are you cold or not?”

at this point, jaemin feels stupid for even thinking about granting you the slightest bit of leniency by leaving you alone tonight. jaemin had been willing to put aside his desires and wants for you. but his patience can only stretch so far until it comes snapping back. 

and boy, were you in for it. 

he utters your name, low and threatening and you just knew what it meant. as the victim, it should’ve been in your best interest to keep your captor from losing his shit and hurting you… and yet, you remain silent. you don’t know what’s gotten into you. the words are right at the tip of your tongue but you don’t say anything. it was as if time had stopped and your brain had short-circuited, making you forget how to speak. 

when he stood up from the stool and started stalking towards you, you knew it was too late. 

“jaemin…” your voice shakes. “jaem—yes, yes—i feel—i feel cold—”

the sting on your right cheek is the only thing to register in your mind for a few good seconds until it all clicks into place. he just backhanded you. 

“i never thought you’d be such a fucking bitch,” he hisses, pulling at your restraints. “you were so silent, i thought you went mute, baby. how can you treat me like that? it’s no way to treat your lover.”

his soft tone catches you off guard for a fraction of a second. it was the same way he spoke to you before… all of this. it was the same tone that had once lulled you into a sense of security when you were stuck in a new environment, scared, making mistakes left and right, but jaemin had proved he can be someone you can depend on.

and look at what that cost you.

jaemin’s eye twitched when he noticed the slightly dazed look on your face, eagerly slotting himself between your thighs before holding your legs down with his shins. his hands dart out, grabbing your jaw in one hand before placing the other snug around your neck. the man can feel the rush of his blood flowing through his veins, ears ringing as he admires how pretty you were underneath him—pretty and helpless.

with a sudden urge, he darts his head forward to take a long whiff of your hair, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. he barely even registers the tears wetting the hand holding your face. jaemin is too far gone in his head because finally, fucking finally, he has you right where he wants you and absolutely no one can steal you away from him anymore.

meanwhile, you try hard to push him off of you but the pressure he’s applying to your legs proves too much. the hand encased around your throat pulls away and your happiness was short-lived as jaemin reaches for something above your head. it glints against the sole fluorescent light in the basement—

you freeze at the sight of his pocket knife.

he laughs, sounding too sweet and lighthearted. “now, now. i won’t hurt you…” 

you hold your breath when he drags the knife across your body. from your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts, and finally settling at the bottom of your shirt. “i won't hurt you if you don’t move around too much.”

the sound of fabric ripping against the sharp blade made you want to thrash as hard as you can but jaemin had purposely angled the knife so the tip dragged against the surface of your skin. bile rises up your throat when you notice the way he eyes every inch of your torso as its slowly revealed to him. 

“see, i know you’re a good girl. i just have to force it out of you sometimes, huh?” he mocks, quickly hooking the knife under your bra so he needn’t struggle reaching for the hook in the back. 

his reaction is immediate the moment he sees you bare before him. he doesn’t even grant you the chance of hiding when he’s managed to hold your wrists in one hand, the knife clattering loudly on the floor as he surged forward, lips latching onto one of your breasts as his free hand feels the other one up. you turn your head to the side, not wanting to see his ministrations. until one particularly hard nip makes you yelp, his teeth latching painfully against a nipple before glaring at you through his eyelashes. 

“eyes on me.”

jaemin can’t have you turning away from him. it simply looks like another act of defiance, as if you were depriving him of the expressions of pleasure found in your face as he continues to lick and suckle at the skin of your breasts, purple and red blooming on your skin. 

when jaemin retracts from you to pull his shirt over his head, you made the last feeble attempt of trying to escape him. you’re able to free one of your legs from underneath him and have successfully delivered a kick to the groin. jaemin folds in pain. you managed to flip onto your stomach, dragging your body away with just your arms. you’ve only managed a few inches, chains rattling aggressively, when you felt his nails dig into the back of your thighs. 

“fuck,” he grunts. “you’re going to fucking pay for that, pretty thing.”

he turns you around with one hand, unfazed by the pitiful look of your tears and snot cascading down your face as he looms over you, his knife in one hand as he fists your hair. 

you shook violently as you brace your hands against his bare chest. jaemin would’ve revelled at the feeling of you touching him if you hadn’t kicked him in the balls only seconds ago. 

“jaemin, please… i don’t want any of this—”

“you’re so cute, begging like anything could get you out of this.”

you flinch, eyes shutting closing on instinct. you feel something sharp poking on your neck, and it only takes you a fraction of a minute to register that jaemin is now holding his knife against your throat. digging the blade enough for you to know it’s there but not hard enough to draw blood. 

“look how much you’re shaking, baby,” he coos, the tightness in his pants becoming unbearable as he gives you a one over. “such a sheltered kid, aren’t you? no wonder you’re so fucking naive, always making mistakes. always making the wrong judgement. you’re used to depending on someone, right? well…” 

jaemin slices the skin above your collarbone. you don’t scream, the fear of him slicing your throat all together lies heavy in the air. 

“…it’s a good thing you met me, huh?”

fuck you.

“i’m here, baby. you can depend on me all you want,” the giddiness and the sudden spark in his eyes make you dread what he’ll do next—you hear the sounds of a belt unbuckling. “i’ll bathe you, i’ll feed you, dress you up, but…”

there are no tears left when you feel his fingers pulling your shorts down together with your underwear. no tears left when you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. 

“…you’ll have to give me something in return. that’s what good girls do, right?”

you screamed.

[astridthevalkyrie]

Can you do 129 with viggo & astrid?

Sorry this took me so long! Just a few days ago, my arm suddenly started hurting like all hell to the point where I was waking up in the middle of the night from the pain. I’m feeling better now (because i’m on meds lmao) so here we go!

@evilwriter37 please tell me how my viggo is, because you write viggo so well.

129. Well, you’re a prick.

If Astrid is remembering right, The General Guide To Being A Prisoner had something in it about keeping your trap shut so as to not possibly aggravate your captor and get yourself killed. But that was because they had let Hiccup and Fishlegs write that book and they had refused to let her have a crack at it. Hiccup had firmly told her that they were trying to write a rational and logical book and there would be no chapter in which it was advised that the victim show off their advanced rudery.

That was a load of dragon dung, she decides.

So as Viggo helps himself to his fifth cup of water (just how much did he consume per hour sitting at that desk?), Astrid lazily leans against the bars of her cell and says in her most obnoxious voice, “I’m thirsty too.”

He looks up at her, and Astrid smirks triumphantly, glad to have at least caught his attention, which her long exaggerated sighs had not accomplished. At least now he was going to respond, and she’d have a few seconds of insulting him to keep her from going mad with boredom waiting for rescue.

Instead of denying her, Viggo instead stands slowly, refilling the cup to the brink with water. Astrid blinks in surprise - she hadn’t expected him to actually give her what she wanted. Still, her throat was a bit dry, so as much as she wants to gripe at him, she decides she can take the drink and then find another way to get him to give her a verbal response.

But Viggo takes his damn time. He first swirls his finger in the cup and then takes a small yet leisurely sip, letting out a pleased sigh. Astrid rolls her eyes at the theatrics, she wasn’t thirsty enough to beg. She can wait.

He seems to notice that, and a small smirk grows on his face. He takes another sip before finally walking towards her cell. With extremely damnable slow steps. Astrid grips the bars, expecting him to open the cell just enough to hand it to her, with a glare warning her not to try to escape or fight him, and that there are guards outside. Yeah, yeah. She knows that. 

Viggo reaches her cell, reels his hand back, and hurls the cup forward, splashing its contents on his prisoner.

Astrid gasps harshly, her face dripping wet and thor and odin above that’s cold! she looks at him incredulously.

Viggo chuckles, risking a hand between the bars to wipe a droplet from her face and lick his fingers. “Will that satisfy you?”

Baring her teeth, she slams against the cell with all her might.

“No, it doesn’t satisfy me, you sick, goblin-looking, foul-breathed, ugly troll shit for brains bastard!”

“I can’t have you thinking you’re an honored guest.” He laughs at her apparent ridiculousness. “Other islands and chieftains may give you the special treatment because you’re fucking the chief’s son, but that doesn’t work on enemy lines, dear.”

She brushes past his condescending tone and his horrible vomit-inducing nickname and addresses the important things first. “I’m not just fucking him, you judgemental asshole.” She ignores the triumphant look in his eyes that even if it is not all she is doing, she is still doing it. “We’re betrothed, we love each other, it’s the good shit.”

“You’re a vulgar woman,” Viggo says, turning away without even giving her a cloth to dry herself with. “I always imagined he’d be interested in someone sweeter.”

“Right, because you know him so well,” Astrid drawls, still furious. She wipes her face with her hands and then proceeds to glare at him. 

“I wonder what it is about you,” he murmurs without so much as sparing a glance in her direction. He sits at his desk and muses to himself as though she isn’t standing just a few feet away. “To have both Hiccup and Heather so smitten with you. Or did you not know about her feelings?” He looks at her quickly, and this time, Astrid catches his eyes hungry for a reaction from her. She does not give him what he wants.

“It’s because I’m beautiful and amazing.” She leans with her back against the wall, arms crossed. “How does it feel to have no one love you?”

Viggo actually laughs at this, as though she has just told a witty joke that he’ll repeat to his dragon hunter buddies over tea. “I’ve had much experience in the throes of love, dear.”

She wrinkles her nose. “’Throes of love,’ gods. You’re so old. So old and obsessed with us. It’s creepy.”

“I’m young enough,” he says, with just a hint of something that she sees in the suggestive glance he gives her with a suggestive tone is he really trying to flirt with her right now and Astrid rolls her eyes.

“Well, you’re a prick.” She stands up straight, looking as intimidating as she can. “When I’m sprung from this cell, I’m going to find you and rip you apart till you’re bleeding from every part of your body.”

Viggo smiles pleasantly. “What makes you certain I won’t run a knife through you right before they get here?”

“Because then you won’t have someone to mentally torture?”

“Oh, I don’t intend to kill you. The mind games can continue without your clothes and blood dripping down your skin.”

Astrid snarls. If he thinks he scares her, he’s dead wrong. Does he think this is her first time in captivity? She’s survived his brother who by all means is stronger than him, if less intelligent. This is nothing.

“Then I guess we’ll see,” she says with teeth gritted darkly, “we’ll see who rips open who first.”

Viggo rewards her with an appreciative nod, the twisted form of acknowledgement that she has been searching for. “I look forward to it, dear.”

I had way too much fun writing this oh my goodness.