#now on the flip side--if drifter is a courtier

[yandere-daydreams]

Okay okay but what about a royal going yandere for their court jester? They’re just such fun company, a refreshing contrast to the monotone education they receive in preparation to take the throne.

(i'd like to mention that @heartfullofleeches already has a very entertaining yandere!emperor x jester!reader series, and i've sorta wanted to put my own twist on it for a while now. consider this my own little spin-off, if that's allowed.)

tw - imprisonment, implied drug use, unhealthy relationships, and obsessive behavior.

you're more of a traveling act than a full-blown court jester, honestly - just another drifter who invites yourself into the royal palace of whatever kingdom you're in, offers your service to the crowned family, and allows them to either accept you into their entourage or have their personal guards escort you to the city's border. you're taken in more often than not, if only for the novelty of having such a brazen fool to serve as that evening's entertainment, and you enjoy the work, often remarking to the courtiers you've been tasked to amuse that your's is the only job in the world where a surplus of skill is second only to a total lack thereof. sometimes, you only stay for a single performance, and on other occasions, you'll spend months in one place, juggling the chef's finest cleavers and singing songs about who that Duke is sleeping with or which misguided investment left this Lady without her fortune. you always move on in the end, of course. if you linger too long, they'll start to give you official duties, try to make you part of the household rather than a parasite who spends its days drinking up the king's wine. you tend to cut most of your stays short, to say the least.

you're quite fond of your current kingdom, though, a little coastal nation with a sovereign still growing into their crown. they don't have much of a court, but they seem to enjoy hearing tales of your personal adventures, seem to like hiding their face behind a gloved hand as you sit in their personal chambers and tell them about a particularly vindictive Lord from your last venture. you do feel bad for the little ruler - an isolated child raised into a lonely monarch, surrounded by advisors and regiments and so many people to whisper so many pleasing things into their ears, left to rule a country you can tell they don't truly careful with no one for company but a poor, traveling fool. you're far from a dutiful companion, but you do what you can, practicing your flips and cartwheels while they sign legislation and draft formal decrees, muttering jokes under your breath whenever you find your way to their side during any royal banquets or ceremonies. their smiles are hard-won, but you don't mind a tough audience, and it's easy to lose track of how many hours you spend attempting to balance on the tip of a fire poker when their laughter proves to be such a satisfying reward. you almost hesitate to leave when the seasons change, it's a momentary weakness, and you manage to wish them well the night before your departure. they take it well, but you aren't surprised by that. they've always been the stoic type.

that's what you assume, at least, until you wake up in their personal chambers, the wine they'd insisted that you toast with spilled over your clothes and your wrists shackled to a bedpost. they're seated on the edge of your mattress, of course, gazing down at you with those cold, desolate eyes. they're speaking, but you can't make out the words - just little nothings about why you would leave them, about how much they've come to love your company, about how devastated they'd be if you ever strayed from their side.

about how well their precious little fool could perform with two broken ankles.