#very affectionate in a yandere way

[kilucore]

fluffy hc time. buggy and shanks love holding hands so even when theyre apart buggy detaches his hand to hold shanks' . but when shanks needs to, you know, use his only hand, he has to let go and buggy pokes him until he holds it again

[porcelainbirdss]

paper heart

summary: you thought he was just kind. everyone did. what you failed to discern, however, was the visage of something darker lurking underneath the man’s grinning face. such a pity, it was.

cw: fem!reader, yandere Phainon, mentions of death, descriptions of violence (not towards reader), grief, manipulation, stalking, obsessive and unhealthy behaviors, emotional dependency, hinted depression, open ending. ||wc: 13k

a sorrowful melody filled the air as your fingertips slowly dragged across white and black tiles. they were covered in a sheen layer of dust, probably because you abandoned your small hobby some time ago. you don’t know why your instincts told you to sit there, and play when you obviously should be doing something else — but they did. it was only logical, in a way — people upon meeting with peril often freeze. their reason fails them, and instead of acting rational, they begin to work their most favored instrument, for example.

once you reached the end of notations, tune abruptly stopping, you flipped the music sheet, and a very brief thought passed your disarrayed thoughts.

you needed to run.

it all began so long ago — the horrors, hidden below veils upon veils of primitive happiness and joy. all the dangers and pain, tucked away under the cloth depicting a face of your beloved (well, perhaps you should be using a past tense when referring to him in such an affectionate way).

you don’t know where the line between normalcy and insanity began to blur. where the borders separating an ordinary feeling and something much more unsettling crashed, becoming one. no matter how perceptive you were, it slipped past your notice.

maybe mulling over your demise was never the point — you could have been as well as doomed the second your eyes first met.

it has been thirteen months since the death of your mother.

a year and one month, then. you didn’t like counting the time in such a trivial way, though. a mere numer 'one' could never possibly depict the sorrow dragging your whole body down. numbers of a bigger scale were suitable — thirteen may be a large quantity. it surely was, considering the context of your current situation. thirteen months, so three hundred ninety six days filled with woe. enough to showcase all the seconds you spent on practically falling asleep within yourself.

your day to day life was the same, always following a routine you didn’t have the strength to change. it’s not like you were particularly crushed under the weight of your experiences, no, you just… got used to it. the silence. the dust gathering on the shelves. unused cups, and too many utensils in your drawers. abandoned music sheets, sitting obediently on your piano, opened in the middle — their melody never to be finished by the original musician.

it wasn’t well, nor good, and your existence seemed to lack in any rhythm — but it was bearable.

and, truth be told, you wholeheartedly believed it would continue to stay like so for the unforeseen future. except it didn’t.

as your shoes clacked over the cobblestone road, eyes trailing after all the cracks under your feet, you began to think about dinner. another feeble attempt at composing your life together, and it would probably end up in vain as any other — but hey, everything starts with something, and food was the most fundamental part of staying on your legs (at least in the physical sense).

the market spread widely before you, stalls upon stalls standing next to each other, filled up with various fruit and meat. people were yelling over the clamor, exchanging goods for currency. if that wasn’t the prime example of a beating heart, then you don’t know what is.

you stepped forwards, vision taking in your possible options. money was never a problem for you — except you took far too little this time, so perhaps it would be good to stick to something on the cheaper side. strong wing carried over the intense scent of peaches, instantly making your mouth water. huh, you hadn’t had them in a long time. they were always your favorite. maybe not the most suitable for dinner, but still satiating enough.

as you dragged your feet over to the stall, a group of children ran by your side, one of them accidentally knocking against your hip. they didn’t even turn to apologize, too absorbed within their fun. you could briefly discern the nursery rhyme they were singing, happily prancing around and skipping by multitudes of people.

"one for sorrow, two for mirth,"

you meekly greeted the vendor, gently grasping a singular peach within your fingers, and inspecting it with your keen gaze.

"three for a wedding, four for a birth,"

the colors were intense, orange and red seeping together into a flury of shades, creating appealing streaks. you almost smiled to yourself.

"five for silver, six for gold,"

once you pressed your joints, the fruit easily caved in. ah, on the other hand, perhaps it was overripe? considering how strongly it smelled, it was a possibility.

"seven for a secret ne’er to be told,"

you asked the seller for the cost — and seriously, was he a lunatic? who in their right mind would spend so much on peaches, especially when they were mere days away from practically rotting?

"eight for a wish, nine for a kiss,"

you scoffed under your breath, complaining about how unreasonable the price was. the man told you to take it or leave it.

"ten for a bird you must not miss,"

still, you kind of wanted those peaches — from what you deduced, no one else in the closest proximity was selling them. you either bid goodbye to all the money in your wallet, or…

"eleven for hope, twelve for health,"

with that, you offered to bargain. the vendor agreed. it of course didn’t go as you would have liked it to, and now you were getting irritated. soon your conversation changed into something resembling a barking match, with you yelling at the man and saying he was a scammer. he snarled back at you every time. people were staring. at some point you wanted to back out from the pitiful charade you caused, but your honor didn’t let you.

"thirteen beware of the devil himself!”

as you opened your mouth to spit another insult at the seller, a hand gently gripped your shoulder. you jolted up, startled. your head whipped towards the one who decided to interrupt you, ready to snap at them too — and you’d probably do so, if not for who that was.

a familiar face with that ever-present kind smile. one of the Chrysos Heirs. the fair, tousled locks and rather outstanding garments left no question within you — Lord Phainon. you swallowed thickly, eyebrows narrowing.

"my, i��m sorry. did i startle you, miss?" he immediately jumped to apologies, confusing you even further. "i just wanted to see if everything was alright with you two. of course, i didn’t mean to pry, however…" he chuckled, taking a small pause, "well. it seems there’s trouble?"

you simultaneously wanted to shake and nod your head. for whatever reason, you felt slightly stunted — his voice sounded nice. it reminded you of the way mourning doves chirp in the morning, all soothing and sweet. then, there was his smile, maybe capable of competing with the very sun hanging above your heads. a row of white teeth along with twins of blue crinkling in the corners. a picture of perfection. how come you never payed any attention to him?

upon your lack of reaction, a hand waved in front of your eyes. "…iss. miss? you still with me?"

you blinked twice, rapidly pulled out of your temporary stupor. oh. it would seem he was talking to you, and you remained unresponsive. what a way to make a fool out of yourself.

"ah, yeah, sorry." you forced out awkwardly, scratching the nape of your neck. "just got lost in thought."

at that, Phainon snickered. his attention returned to the vendor, and he pointed towards the peaches — cursed objects of your dismay. "alright! kind sir, i’d like to buy a few." he smiled politely at the man.

you observed him purchase your desired fruit with the slightest of disappointment, paying without any complaints or hesitation. then, he turned to you, and practically pushed the paper bag into your arms. "i’m— is that for me?" you stammered, eyes widening.

"of course." the corners of his lips lifted even further upwards, forming into a grin. "i just hope you don’t mind?"

how could you possibly mind? even if he felt like doing charity work out of pity, it still meant a lot to you. for quite some time, you hardly received any sort of kindness. perhaps that’s what you’ve lacked for all this time.

when you noticed some other people lining up behind you, you stepped to the side, Phainon following in tow. "i don’t mind. thank you, Lord—"

"let’s not use the honorifics, hm?" he chimed in before you could even finish your sentence, swaying his hand dismissively.

you nodded, a somewhat bashful smile forming on your face. you felt kind of perplexed by the whole exchange, but nevertheless, it was a nice change of pace. "fine with me. oh, by the way, my name’s—"

he cut in again. "[name], am i right?"

upon hearing that, you let out a clipped laugh. how did he even know? well, it’s not like you’re alienating yourself from the rest of citizens, but hey. Phainon was at least a few ranks above you, and from what you could discern, people of higher status rarely concerned themselves with identities of the commoners.

you itched to ask: how’d you know?, but held your tongue — that would be surely impolite. "yes, you got that right."

"well, it was nice to meet you, [name]." he said, tone remaining light and jovial, mouth still stretched into a grin. you wondered how is it possible his cheeks didn’t hurt from the constant strain. "enjoy your peaches!"

Phainon was halfway swiveling on his heel, ready to walk away — and you, upon some godforsaken impulse, gripped his wrist. he stopped in his tracks, turning to you with a quizzical expression.

"uh— maybe you’d like one?" you queried, hastily reaching into the bag, and pulling the fruit out. "i mean… you bought them for me, so it’s only fair."

his irises took your face in (maybe a bit too intently for your liking), and he looked seconds away from bursting into a triumphant laughter. for what reason, you honestly didn’t know. "sure, thank you." he nodded, grasping the peach from your palm.

you followed in tow, because — why not? you were hungry, and the sight of his teeth sinking into the tender flesh caused your stomach to rumble, reminding of its discomfort. "oh, my! these are great." you remarked casually, wondering whether you should be acting so easy-going with a Chrysos Heir. anyway, you’re not the one to blame, are you?

"they are." he affirmed, smiling when he took another bite. juice seeped down his hand, slipping under the sleeve, which caused him to let out a dismayed yelp.

you laughed at the sight. he laughed harder.

the sun shone brightly, and you didn’t even know him, but felt a sting of familiarity in your chest. Phainon’s strands of hair billowed straight in his face, tousled by the strong gusts of wind, and nothing seemed to matter at that moment. thoughts of any morose kind left your exhausted brain, leaving you with that blissful emptiness. there was only him, you, and those damned peaches.

after that, your friendship with Phainon unfortunately only grew in its size. to this day, you aren’t sure what tempted you to let him practically snake his way into your life. perhaps it was the fact you were lonely, and grief-shaken — upon your mother’s passing, none was the same, and everyone seemed to turn their backs at you. it hurt like hell, so any kind of company satiated you. well, Phainon wasn’t just any kind. he was incredibly sweet, and helpful, and sometimes you caught yourself thinking he was everything you needed and more.

at first, your meetings were coincidental (but from the retrospective, they probably weren’t). you were doing some shopping, and he just happened to stumble across you on the street. the man was sitting in that lovely garden, surrounded by prancing chimeras, and you’d accidentally cross ways. things were falling into place, and fate seemed to be tethering you both — so you only got closer, and closer.

the bond between you tightened with every passing month, until you found out it’s already been a year, and your cursed brain decided to bestow you with its worst gift. a crush. an infatuation, of sorts.

sharing your sorrows came easier, and Phainon was only more eager to hear you out. it placated the thunderstorm in your heart enough to let the gates down — you invited him in, completely willingly. you initiated the acts that would later prove to be your doom, and now you couldn’t even find a suitable excuse. after all, no one forced you to spend most of your free time with him. not a single person gripped you by the shoulders, shaking, and commanding you: stick with him, and ignore all the times when that borderline manic smile failed to reach his eyes.

you think you’ll regret not backing out when you still had the chance forever.

air in the antique bookstore was thick, making your lungs heavy as you accidentally inhaled another portion of dust, the little speckles seating themselves uncomfortably in your nostrils. you wanted to sneeze, however held the insistent urge back, mindful of every other patron — there weren’t many people here, but still, you’d rather not startle anyone.

you flipped to another page of that certain memoir which managed to catch your attention. the paper seemed fragile and yellowed, already damaged by years of sun exposure, and the spine was pretty much cracked in half. that didn’t matter, though — a thing bearing so many profound memories will remain beautiful, even if it was to be tossed into a fiery pit.

memoirs and biographies alike were always your favorite. you don’t know why, but they carried a certain sense of comfort — death was inevitable in human existence, but if you write your life down, you’ll stay alive in the minds of others (at least to some extent). books, unlike people, do not have a lifespan. they will not perish, unless someone burns or destroys them.

that was soothing. literature won’t leave, nor will it abandon you. it is definitive. it is attested. it is a certainty which cannot be guaranteed in every case. memories will not slip you away, as long as you tuck them onto a piece of paper — be it a simple notebook, or a diary. human brain is unable of perceiving the recollections properly after some amount of time — it will mix everything up, having you debate whether it truly happened or not. books weren’t like that. they won’t fail you nor bend the reality.

you turned to another page when a doorbell rang through the space, the sound of silent greeting gracing your ears. somebody new came in. you decided to ignore them for now, intently reading through the sentences to discern if this specific lecture was genuinely up to your taste (because you didn’t feel like spending another sum of money on something you’ll drop sooner than later).

and as you were busying yourself with that, a pair of palms suddenly obscured your vision — you’d probably jump up in fright if not for the fact your nervous system was already used to such endeavors. you giggled meekly under your breath, gently shutting the book.

"guess who." rang the sing-song voice, so familiar and saccharine.

you rolled your eyes, a weak smile tugging the corners of your lips upwards. "hm, i’m not sure. who could it be?" you huffed, swiftly tugging the hands away from your face, and turning to see who decided on surprising you.

obviously, it was no revelation when your irises locked with the radiant pools of blue, already grinning at you so widely. or perhaps it was? you honestly didn’t expect to see Phainon here out of all places — sure, judging people by a stereotypical lens was wrong, but you would have never thought he took any interest in literature.

Phainon pouted at your words, the corners of his lips curling downwards in a pitiful expression. he honestly reminded you of a kicked puppy. "ah, [name], i’m so hurt. it’s me, obviously!" the man whined, one of his arms attempting to sneak around your shoulders. you eluded the touch.

"well, hello there." you sighed, wry amusement lacing your tone. then, you thought to ask: "what are you doing here?"

a silly question it was, because obviously he didn’t visit an antique bookstore to pick strawberries.

your friend hummed under his breath, eyes briefly flickering over the books, finally locking on the one you were holding. "i like reading from time to time. by the way, is that another memoir?" he inquired innocently.

you nodded. “yeah. why?"

"nothing, nothing." he waved his hand dismissively, a chuckle slipping past his lips. "you just read so much of them. don’t you ever get bored?"

your mouth opened to grant him with a response, but then your brain lagged. a very silent, practically non-existent alarm rang in the back of your mind, causing you to pause. when did you ever tell him about your fondness for this specific genre? well, it’s not like you were actively trying to keep it a secret, but still. you both rarely conversed about such things, especially your reading hobby.

anyway, you’re probably acting irrational right now. you must have told him before, and it simply escaped your memory.

you cleared your throat, putting the book back on the shelf. for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like purchasing it anymore. "no, not really. they’re interesting." you answered without much commitment.

Phainon gave a noise of acknowledgment, his smile growing into a grin. "is that so? well actually, i like them too."

"i have plenty at my house." you said, irises avoiding his face. the expression he donned was practically blinding. "if you want to, i can lend you some."

the fact he also enjoyed memoirs didn’t seem particularly believable to you, but you decided to indulge him nonetheless. after all, he was your friend. your only one.

(not to mention you may have been crushing on him).

"that would be nice!” he replied instantly, and you thought if you squinted enough, you’d manage to spot the tail wagging behind him excitedly. "do you have the time?"

"as in… right now?" you queried, but before you even affirmed, Phainon was already dragging you out of the store. you didn’t protest. whenever you did, saying something that didn’t especially please the man, the look on his face always fell so somberly. you hated that sight.

with that, the both of you went to your home. to be fair, you visited him more often than he actually visited you — so as you opened the door, you immediately began apologizing about the mess (which wasn’t overly prominent, but a lot of dust gather around, and you didn’t have the strength to clean up).

"again, sorry. i just didn’t really have the time to tidy recently.” you let the white lie easily slip off of your tongue, slowly putting your shoes away.

Phainon looked at you as if you were crazy. "[name], i already told you i don’t mind. my place isn’t the most perfect either." he laughed merrily, patting your back.

you reciprocated his smile, internally grateful for how understanding the man was. his gaze was always relentlessly kind (spare for the times when he stared blankly into the distance, blue irises completely dull), and never once you thought he appeared anyhow judgmental.

"well, anyway. about the books…" you began, stepping closer to the shelf in your living room, stuffed to the brim with lectures. "anything specific you’d like to read about?" you asked, knowing the memoirs spread across a rather wide range of topics.

"your favorite ones." Phainon chimed, following in tow.

you huffed out a hushed chuckle, quickly taking out at least five of your beloved titles. he was really sweet if he wanted to read your favorites, and it made your heart clench happily. "here you go." you handed him the books, carefully balancing them on the man’s palms.

you wholeheartedly believed he’d at least check out their backs, interested in the contents — but his intense gaze remained glued to yours. now that you think about it, this occurrence was somewhat common. one time you went to a restaurant, and Phainon, instead of seeing what the menu had to offer, continued to stare at you with a dumb grin. he ended up ordering the same dish as you. or, for example, when you visited him, and asked whether he could pour you some juice — that day was beyond scorching hot, so you were parched. Phainon immediately agreed, but as he was filling up your glass, he seemed to get distracted. the juice overflowed, spilling all across his lap, and he only stopped when you yelled at him.

the man either loved daydreaming, or analyzing your face contours in depth. you surely hoped it wasn’t the latter option (not because you’d mind — it simply made you feel overly exposed).

"don’t hurry with reading them all." you offered him a wry smile, receiving a nod of understanding in return. "anyway, maybe you’d like some tea?”

Phainon sat by the table, placing the books on its surface. "sure, why not." he replied, lazily opening one of them, and skimming through the pages without actually processing the words. if not for the fact his leg was bouncing, you’d think he was the perfect picture of peace now — light gently illuminating the galant features, long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

when he found you staring (even though you just internally berated him for doing the same thing), he sent you a knowing smile, eyebrows arching upwards. you cleared your throat awkwardly, hastily disappearing into the kitchen without a further comment.

once the tea was done, you settled it on the table, seating yourself as well. to no surprise, Phainon was distracted again, vision focused on your piano standing under one of the windows. it has seen better days — previously taken care of, its jet-black surface shone, reflecting all the light. now it was a mere imitation of its earlier glory, covered in dust and wilted petals of that flower you were too exhausted to water, and too unmotivated to throw away.

"something caught your eye?" you questioned, taking a small sip of the herbal drink.

he turned to face you, shrugging. "i was just wondering if you ever play this piano. i visited you multiple times, and it always stands…" he paused, as if weighting the words, "abandoned."

that much was true. you rarely concerned yourself with your hobby — after the passing of your mother, nothing seemed to draw your interest anymore. she was the one who taught you how to play, and now she was gone. no longer were the duets, or mirthful tunes resonating early in the morning.

she was much more talented and skilled than you could ever be, winning award after award. still, you cherished your shared passion for music — you learnt a lot, embedding the notes deep inside your mind. and she was proud. even if you failed, your mother would always cheer you on, patiently explaining what you could fix. life was good, back then.

but it was no more.

"i don’t play." you replied, voice a bit sterner than you’d like it to be.

Phainon didn’t seem anyhow deterred by your tone, sending you an encouraging smile. "really? that’s a pity. i’d love to hear you."

it wasn’t hard to deduce what he was insinuating. even though you swore to never touch that instrument again, your resolve chipped off at his words. "well… i suppose i could try for you."

your friend’s expression melted into a subtle triumph. "great!" he clasped his hands together, shifting on the chair to watch as you got up from your place, seating yourself by the piano.

you ran your palm over the dust and withered petals, shoving everything on the ground. you’ll swipe it later. then, you took a breath, attempting to recall anything familiar — it would seem you got rusty, because as you flipped through the music sheets, only one melody came to mind. why’re you so worried, anyway? you’re not here to impress Phainon (even if you’d like to, terribly).

with that, you positioned your fingertips on the tiles, shoulders tense from how his insistent gaze kept boring into your back. you winced upon the first sound, trying to remember how to play, and how to push back the memories haunting your sorrow-worn brain.

after a while of uncertainty, you finally fell into the right rhythm, smiling dimly at the forlorn tune. it was slow, and calm. all the world surrounding you seemed to cease in its existence, and now it was only you, and the piano. no Phainon, no birds flying outside of the window, no overcast skies, no memories of your late mother.

with each press on the tile, you felt as if you were discovering pieces of yourself anew, like a sacred ritual — playing made you happy. it truly did. how were you able of forgetting about such a simple fact?

as you regained the confidence, you worked your joints with more fervor. everything was going well, until two palms fell onto your shoulders, startling you.

a strained, prolonged sound filled the air as you accidentally hit the tiles, messing up the melody. your head quickly whipped towards Phainon, who was now looking at you with a surprised expression painted on his face. when did he even come up here? you hardly heard any footfall.

"i’m so sorry, did i scare you?” he chuckled, obviously without any remorse.

you sighed, fingers reaching over to touch his hands. "a little."

a smirk stretched his lips upwards as he leaned a bit closer, twins of blue flickering between your form and the instrument. "i didn’t mean to." he responded coyly, no matter if you didn’t sense any guilt coming from him. well, it’s not like you’d hold a grudge for giving you a brief spook. "i just wanted to look from up close. you played so beautifully."

you felt his joints interlock around yours, and now you were slightly hot, something summery itching at your cheeks. Phainon was way too near, and the worst part is — you wished to render the distance completely.

he appeared so pretty from up close. you could discern the faint dimples in his cheeks as he smiled at you tenderly, and how light coming from the window illuminated his radiant irises. if you were able to, you’d immediately snap a picture with your own eyes, because there was no way any sort of lens could ever truly mirror his prepossessing features.

"i can teach you." you blurted out on impulse, wanting to sink into the chair from embarrassment at your silly proposal.

you expected Phainon to laugh — except he didn’t. his face pulled even closer, effectively knocking the air out from your lungs. assuming your heart had legs of it own, it surely would bolt straight out of your throat.

"i’d like that." he murmured.

your breath hitched, and then his lips brushed against yours. you barely stopped yourself from digging your nails into his hands. upon some sprout of boldness, you moved to close your mouths together — but Phainon inched away. that caused your mind to lag, blinking twice at him in confusion — did you even kiss? it was so brief, and chaste in its nature. more like just… pressing your lips against each other, as if to exchange oxygen.

his palms left your shoulders, and he straightened out, stepping back. your thoughts spurred, wondering whether you did something wrong, or if you offended him — however, there was no trace of dismay on the man’s face. he kept smiling sweetly at you, slowly gathering the memoirs into his arms like nothing ever happened.

"well, teach, can i see you tomorrow for a quick lesson?" he asked amusedly, eyebrows arching upwards.

no matter how perplexed you felt, you still forced the corners of your lips to stretch. "s-sure." you stammered out, fingers clenching around the material of your attire.

perhaps you imagined it, after all.

with that, time continued to pass, and for whatever reason you never again touched upon the topic of that barely-kiss. you remember being frustrated then, for pretty obvious reasons. still, Phainon didn’t seem to be in need of talking about that, so you kept silent.

now, from the perspective of time, it might have actually saved you from a fate much worse than what you had presented before you at this moment. your chance to escape Okhema remains unshaken, but what if you pushed Phainon earlier on? surely, the man’s fangs would clench around your neck, refusing to let you go.

he continued to visit you after that, and you taught him how to play. it was no revelation when he grasped the concept rather quickly — he seemed to be some kind of an omnibus, catching on everything naturally.

those shared moments were so precious to you, back then. when Phainon became confident in his somewhat stable skills, you both would sit by the piano, playing a duet. your sides touched as you slowly pressed on the tiles, sometimes even humming along to the tune. whenever one of you messed up, you’d laugh, bickering quietly.

you were enjoying yourself — more than you probably should. all the red flags and alarming behaviors slipped past your notice, and you genuinely thought you regained a long-lost part of yourself.

the dust was now gone from your home, wilted plants and trash thrown away. the piano shone like it used to, and the sun seemed to peek out from behind the clouds more often. your fridge was never empty, because Phainon always brought you some fresh food, and the bed in which you could lie for hours on end didn’t appear as alluring.

it’s not that you miraculously recovered from the grief and burdens of your doleful mind, however, it was progress. the heart remained heavy still — but the man’s fingers curled under its beating form, lifting it up. it was easier to function with him.

at some point, you thought a life without Phainon would be impossible.

everything was going well, and you no longer were carrying so much sorrow. previously, your brain practically drowned into a state of paranoia — every single person appeared as if they wanted to harm or betray you in some way. you scowled at the passersby, a bitter frown painted across your face. but now it was gone. all the wariness and disdain and chagrin lulled into something softer, more amiable.

alas, you should have kept it with you.

you stirred awake, pressing your eyelids shut at the dim light of early morning uncomfortably irritating your eyes. you don’t know why, but your stomach churned, and you felt unsettled by the thought that something was not right.

your room was way too cold. of course, it was chilly in the mornings, but this? this was beyond normalcy. you finally looked around the space, trying to control your trembling limbs. nothing was amiss. every single thing lied in its destined place, all of the windows closed.

still, the temperature made you wonder. with an uneasy feeling, you slowly dragged yourself off the bed, treading downstairs to check it out as well.

it’s a good thing you didn’t go back to sleep, because the sight there made you gasp out loud. your doors were opened — not widely, just slightly ajar — but they were, and it made your guts clench.

under any other circumstances, you would have blamed it on your forgetfulness, however right now that was simply impossible. you never once forgot to close the door, always making sure at least two times the locks were secure and tightly shut.

when you were little, you and your mother fell victim to a robbery — your whole home got practically destroyed, every single furniture toppled over once the thieves were satisfied with their search for any valuables. ever since then, your mother got paranoid about stuff like that. she instilled utmost awareness in you, and so, you adapted. the habit stuck with you to this day, and you took extra precautions just to make sure everything was locked.

wind flew through the gap, lapping at your bare ankles with its frigid tongue. someone broke into your house — and the worst part is, you don’t know whether that person was still inside.

untamed panic attempted to squeeze your heart, but you steeled your resolve, taking a deep breath. no, you mustn’t fall into a hole of fright. your eyes quickly jumped across the space of your living room, scanning everything up and down — nothing.

you took a step forward, jumping up at the low creak your floor made. you cursed under your breath, placing a shaky palm over your pounding chest. you tentatively dragged your feet over to the middle of the room, trying to gather your disarrayed thoughts. as you somehow managed to calm your nervous system down, you hastily turned back for your teleslate, gripping it in your hand as if your life depended on it.

you glanced around yourself precariously, too afraid of even checking out other rooms — after all, if that intruder were there, what would you do? you couldn’t fight. one hit from behind, and you’d be gone.

as carefully as possible, you started walking down the stairs, already dialing a familiar number. you needed him — he was way more capable than you. you were absolutely sure if that person who broke into your house would see him, they’d pass out.

you stood frozen on the cold floorboards, counting down the signals. one. two. three—

"hello, [name]?" resonated the slightly dazed voice, still half-asleep. you must have woken him up.

"Phainon," you began, trying to maintain your tone stable, "can you come to my place?"

you heard a noise of something on the other side, muffled and static. "you mean… as in right now?"

"yes, right now. i know it’s barely four in the morning, but—"

a loud thud on the window cut in the middle of your sentence, causing you to practically shriek in horror. it was a bird — you saw it so clearly, its small silhouette bumping against the glass — and yet, you bolted out of your house as if you were hunted by a pack of fiends.

you almost tripped over your own legs, bare feet falling onto the cold grass, freshly covered in dew. you heard Phainon’s voice calling from your teleslate, asking if you were alright, so you pressed it back to your ear.

"what in the hell happened, [name]?" he asked, probably for the fifth time now.

you took a shaky breath, running a palm over your face. "nothing, i just— just please, come here. i think…" you stammered, clumsily stumbling over your words in haze of trepidation, "i think someone broke into my house."

"wh—" the man began, immediately abandoning his track of thought, "alright. okay, i’ll be there. where are you now?"

you warily looked around, taking in the dimmed sight of your surroundings — the sky was still somewhat dark, periwinkle shyly peeking through the grayish firmament. "in my garden."

Phainon affirmed he’ll come as soon as possible, and you hung up, anxiously pacing around the patch of grass. you were torn between staying outside, and coming back home — but ultimately decided to remain in place.

you fidgeted with your fingers, eyes flickering to the door you forgot to even close as you sprinted out. you mulled over all the dark scenarios, clenching your hands into fists, imagining what you’d do if that intruder were to suddenly emerge, and attack you. their motives surely were odd — nothing was missing, your furniture unmoved, all the possibly valuable things untouched. it was different from what you had experienced as a young girl. if not for the money, then…

the grim realization struck you, and you breathed meekly, feeling your knees get wobblier. how is it you came out of this completely unscathed? as you continued to drown in morose reveries, you heard the fast footfall, head whipping to see who was coming your way.

Phainon, in all of his glory — ivory locks tousled in ever single possible direction, still donning his sleepwear and combat shoes that totally didn’t match. perhaps under different circumstances, you would laugh at the sight.

"[name]." he called, swiftly rendering the distance between you. his facial expression seemed somewhat distraught, but he didn’t take his sword with him, which was… well, somewhat weird. maybe he simply forgot it.

you stepped towards him, grabbing his palms into yours. "thank gods you’re here…" you muttered, feeling at his joints tensing. "why don’t you have a weapon? what if— what if that intruder is still—"

"everything is going to be just fine, alright?" he responded, interrupting your waterfall of hardly-coherent words. "i’ll go search through your place. you should, uh… perhaps stick to me."

you nodded eagerly, sighing with relief at the security Phainon’s presence brought you. with that, you trailed after the man, glued to his hip like a stray animal begging for a scrap of meat.

both of you carefully checked out every single corner of your house, and the more you looked, the more unsettled you became. the thief was not there, but a few things were missing. first of all — your pens. as you stepped into the study, you briefly noticed the disarray on your desk, soon finding out half of your utensils were gone. then, there was that handkerchief you spent so much time embroidering with intricate floral patterns — also no sight of it.

the disappearances were so inconspicuous, it terrified you way more than the vision of losing your jewelry or money. what person casually decides to break in, only to steal somebody’s pens and a piece of cloth? those things were not valuable whatsoever — the fact that this intruder took them was beyond off.

when you pointed it out, Phainon’s eyebrows narrowed with concern — and then his expression shifted into almost dismissal. he said not to worry, after all none of your actually precious stuff was gone, and that must be a good sign, no?

you were consternated at his suddenly carefree attitude, but didn’t point it out. since your friend told you everything was fine, then who were you to undermine his words? certainly, he knew better than you — even if something deep in your gut told you otherwise.

you pushed back the feelings of unease and ambivalent emotions, soon changing the locks and making sure all of your windows were secure. this accident has shaken you, and now your sleep was restless — but life goes on, and Phainon promised he’d never let any harm come your way, so at least you had an ounce of comfort to cling to.

you don’t know why you were so blind, back then. the signs were there for all of this time — you simply decided to turn a blind eye on them.

perhaps it was because you repressed the grief deep inside, but it still dragged you down. silently, innocently. it resurfaced only when you were alone, staring pointlessly at your own feet or a half-empty cup of water. you began to fear it, and so, you tethered yourself to the source of your consolation.

it has been twenty six months since your mother’s death, and thirteen months since your "friendship" with Phainon first bloomed. a number big enough to show the amount of conflict brewing within your heart — torn between everything your instincts were telling you, and ignoring them.

sometimes you wondered: if you kept your curiosity at bay, would anything ever resurface? would the ugly things finally appear, seated in your lap like an obedient lamb? he was an intelligent man, so perhaps not.

anyway, there’s no use mourning over spilled milk.

Phainon, being one of the Chrysos Heirs, was often sent out on missions of various kind. they never took him too long — he always came back in time, maybe a bit battered, but still in one piece. today, however, seemed to be different.

everything started out smoothly — you knew he was out of town, so you arranged to meet with one of your newly-formed friend. you got ready, actually putting effort in how you looked, and waited patiently for the hour of your little get-together to finally arrive.

when your teleslate vibrated next to your thigh, you believed it was your friend, letting you know to come out now — so once your eyes met with Phainon’s vague message, you blinked in surprise.

he asked you to come to the infirmary, only stating that he wanted to see you. naturally, you texted back — did something happen? — but the silence that followed was maddening. an utterly unreasonable flood of worry surged through your mind, each passing second stirring it into a thunderstorm. without wasting another moment, you grabbed your bag and hurried out.

by the time you arrived, every nerve in your body felt like it was set in flames. stress relentlessly gnawed at your thoughts, and a thousand of dark scenarios bloomed intrusively in your imagination. you barely managed to ask one of the nurses where he was, and she responded with a door numer — it already managed to dissolve in your thoughts. you walked upstairs, heart pounding with a single morose question: was Phainon truly in such a state that he’d ask for you? gods, you hoped he was just being dramatic.

you shoved the door open and exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. there he was — alive, upright, and breathing. he sat on the bed with a slight recline, supported by a multitude of pillows, his gaze fixed on something outside the window. when he heard you come in, he turned, expression almost instantly shifting into a cheerful smile.

"[name], you came." he hummed happily, briefly running his fingers through the fair locks, maybe a bit self-conscious by how messy they were.

Phainon’s left cheek was covered by a piece of gauze, and you managed to spot a few bandages sticking from under his loose robes — but fortunately, nothing else caught your attention. he was all well, and now you were wondering why did he sent you such an ominous message in the first place. maybe he simply wanted to mess with you.

you nodded, rendering the space between you two. "of course i did." you spoke meekly, deciding to seat yourself on the small chair, standing just right next to the bed. "anyway, are you… okay?"

the blue irises studied you for good, prolonged three seconds before he thought answer. "could have been worse. accidents happen from time to time, even to me." he chuckled, a cough ripping from his chest abruptly.

you winced, fiddling with your fingers. you did not know what to do. "why don’t you lie down?" you asked, sending him a wry smile. comforting others was never your strongest forte, and now it was evidently showing.

he obediently took up on your offer, the corners of his lips remaining lifted. "[name], don’t frown so much. it’s not like i’m dying, or something."

you laughed at that comment, and he laughed along. whenever you as much as voiced any sound of joy, he always followed suit — at first it wasn’t very noticeable to you, but after some time, you recognized it as a habit of sorts. an unconditioned reflex.

"sorry. i didn’t mean to, i just…" you trailed off, eyes falling to your lap.

a short beat of silence passed between you before Phainon spoke again. "you look especially pretty today. any occasion?" he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice.

at that, you almost choked on your own spit. your relationship with the man was… well, somewhat questionable — but whenever he complimented you in such a straightforward way, you always felt as if somebody smacked you across the face with an electric wire.

you cleared your throat, trying to fight off the blush steadily creeping onto your cheeks. "maybe? i’m not sure. i was supposed to meet up with my friend today." you explained.

Phainon’s smile widened, and you didn’t fail to spot how the corner of his lips twitched. "sounds great."

you nodded, unsure of what to reply with. sometimes he responded with such vague sentences, it was hard to even come up with an answer. still, you forced your mind to muster up anything to keep the conversation going.

you talked for quite a while now, and you definitely lost the track of time — the sky darkened slightly, and you continued to ignore the buzzing of your teleslate. whenever you reached into your bag, your friend always began asking you some barely sensible questions, demanding your attention to stay focused solely on him.

you indulged him, naturally, but when you heard the sound of a ringtone, you could no longer pretend. what you were doing was hardly polite — looking at the hour, you were already fifteen minutes late to your meeting. even if Phainon was battered, he surely would understand, right? after all, he is the prime example of kindness, constantly gracing everyone with that cordial smile of his.

with a sigh, you grasped the device, ready to pick up. "sorry, i really have to—"

before your fingertip managed to even do as much as graze the teleslate’s screen, a hand suddenly locked around your wrist. you let out a mixture of surprise and confusion from your throat, vision returning to Phainon. he was smiling — alas, it didn’t encompass his eyes anymore. the man’s grip wasn’t hard, but it caused you to accidentally drop your teleslate, the thing slipping from your palm and hitting the ground with a clatter. it was still ringing a merry tune, so notorious and loud.

you swallowed, consternation painting itself across your face. "hey, what are—"

a vivid picture of sudden change grew in front of you, dull irises snapping back into their lively forms — he hastily let go of your limb, retracting his hand. did Phainon suffer some head trauma while he was away on a mission? he never once acted so erratically before, so you wouldn’t be surprised to find out his brain was in a concussed state.

"sorry. is your teleslate alright?" he spoke calmly, easing back into the stack of pillows.

you bend down to pick it up, briefly inspecting it. "yes, it is." you nodded, eyes avoiding him. when you glanced at the screen, you saw at least ten delivered messages, waiting for you to read. you felt guilty.

"anyway," he started, that lighthearted lace returning to his tone, "who were you supposed to meet up with?"

you sighed at the innocent question, turning the device off. "Phaoriseus. you remember him, don’t you?"

to be completely honest, you expected another burst of bitterness from your friend (and you wouldn’t blame him for it) — so it was a surprise when Phainon gave a hum of understanding, still smiling at you without a single waver. "i do remember him."

(you didn’t spot how terribly hard his fingers curled around the covers, nor the tight clench of his jaws).

"so, uhh, i guess i should…" you began, wondering why were you feeling so unsure, "i should go now. he’ll get mad if i just ditch him like that."

Phainon’s expression remained frozen for a good second — but soon the blank page of his face twisted into a pitiful frown, eyebrows knitting together. "really? but you just got there!" he protested, and you thought he looked like a mistreated dog. injured face, stitches, locks tousled messily — and those big eyes, practically begging.

he was not right. you didn’t just get there. it has been two hours since you stepped into infirmary, and perhaps it would be better to go now — but Phainon had this irresistible ability of tugging on your poor heartstrings. you felt torn, and when your teleslate began ringing again, you knew it was the high time you finally decide.

and the worst part is — it came so easily to you. just like that. without much hesitancy, you turned on the silent mode, tossing the thing back into your bag.

sure, you wanted to maintain friendships, and whatnot — but the man lying now in front of you was simply more important. you chuckled dryly under your breath, wondering how could you ever possibly leave his side — and when he heard the sound coming from your mouth, he laughed along. sweetly, like pure saccharine or sugarcoated apples.

"so you’ll stay, i presume?" he inquired, fingertips reaching over to yours. you squeezed his hand immediately, smiling at the warmth of his joints.

"of course i’ll stay." you affirmed, all remnants of internal conflict seeping away. it was good this way. you didn’t need much in life — as long as you had Phainon, everything would be just fine.

you could mock your past self for remaining so oblivious, but it would lack in any sense anyway. it’s not as if berating yourself for putting trust in somebody else could fix the old mistakes — none can undo the past.

now that you think about it, Phainon always was… somewhat quirky. beloved by everyone, cherished and praised highly in the general community of Okhema, he stayed as a picture-perfect golden boy. no one would ever suspect there was something more to him — not even you, at least back then.

however, sometimes his usually radiant eyes lost their glow, boring pointedly into the distance with dullness you couldn’t put your finger on, or discern where it was coming from. it was eerie in a way, seeing how the very life seemed to practically disappear from him — but you never thought to judge him. you understood better than anyone else that a human’s existence is filled with various hardships and grief. maybe Phainon experienced something akin to your loss, and simply attempted to smother the sorrow instead of letting it dissolve naturally.

then, there were his mood swings. they weren’t overly prominent, but it was quite apparent the emotions within him were in a constant state of swirl. for example, how quickly and rapidly he could burst into laughter at something mildly funny you said — you always wondered whether he seriously found your dry jokes so amusing.

not to mention, you perceived Phainon as someone relentlessly kind, but he just had that odd habit of glaring at whoever was talking to you. no matter if you were acquainted with them, or not — he’d stand a little behind you, eyebrows narrowing together lowly. when you caught him scowling like so, his look always shifted into a docile smile, innocently asking what was wrong — as if he never did anything in the first place. you let that slide, too.

perhaps this was not a very obvious sign, but from time to time, you noticed the slip-ups in his masterfully crafted masks. well, maybe not masterfully, because Phainon wasn’t all that great at controlling his facial expressions — but the fact he could hold them up with such a hell in his mind remained impressive. you stated something against his wishes — his eyebrow twitched. you did specifically what he told you not to do — his lower eyelid quivered, as if he was seconds away from losing it.

and finally, the vague responses Phainon offered you. previously, you had no clue why he got so mopey sometimes, but now you know it stemmed from pure, barely contained jealousy. the short "okay-s" and "fine-s" often sounded as if he practically forced them out. almost like there was something in his throat — obscuring the man’s windpipe, refusing him from mustering up anything more.

earlier on, when you were still so blissfully oblivious, you could live with that. you could swallow down all the doubts and questions, cherishing the company of your beloved friend — or something more. you ignored all the cracks, and wavers, pretending not to see the sharp eyes of a predator lurking from underneath sheep’s clothing.

you were so hung-up on the vision of remaining by Phainon’s side, you ignored the warnings — not only originating from your own intuition, but other’s as well.

the weather seemed a bit unstable today — you agreed to come out on a walk with Phainon, bumping into Mydei along the way, and dragging him with you too — and the sun shone brightly from one part of the sky, while the other remained darkened by the rain clouds. it was a little unsettling, watching as the gloom spread relentlessly fast towards your way.

still, you couldn’t exactly complain. you were having fun with both of the men, giggling under your breath as they bickered over the dumbest things. you already had to work as a mediator, and a judge — when their debates remained unsolved, they instantly turned towards you, demanding you decide which one of them was right.

and as you strolled through the main square, your eyes met with an ice cream stall. the temperature was quite hot, so you offered to buy some ��� Phainon agreed with you, saying that he can go wait in the line, since it was pretty long. you sent him a grateful nod, hiding with Mydei in the shade meanwhile he had to stand in the scorching sun, already appearing somewhat dazed by the hotness.

you leaned on the cool pillar, sighing with relief. the man next to you followed suit, glancing at you with the corner of his piercingly sharp iris. "[name], i have to ask you about something." he began, perhaps a bit tentatively.

to hear him speak up first was a slight surprise, especially since you weren’t particularly close, nor did Mydei seem to be overly social. still, you didn’t point it out — it’s not like it was a bad thing he attempted to strike up a conversation with you.

"go ahead." you sent him an encouraging smile, quickly reaching to wipe the sweat off of your brow. the high temperature was seriously getting to you — any longer in the sun, and you’d probably faint.

he cleared his throat, letting out a prolonged sigh. "what do you think of Phainon?” he questioned, the tone of his voice more gravely than usual.

confused, you blinked twice, mulling over his words. what’s that supposed to mean? "well, i think he’s a… good person. i enjoy his company.” you replied, wondering if that’s the answer Mydei was looking for.

the man shook his head, eyebrows narrowing together. "is that all? don’t you think he’s been acting off?"

the more he talked, the more perplexed you got. "what?"

Mydei clicked his tongue in irritation, probably barely holding back a scoff at your obliviousness. "[name], i’m sure you are more intelligent than you let on. don’t tell me you can’t see how he looks at you?"

a nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you scratched the nape of your neck. where was he even going with all this? "sorry, are you—" you took a pause, weighting your words, "are you insinuating Phainon has a crush on me?"

this of course wouldn’t be any sort of revelation, considering the things you both have done before, however hearing it from somebody else’s mouth was certainly weird.

he huffed out a humorless chuckle, leaning in a bit closer, as if his sentence was some kind of top-secret. "more than just infatuation. there’s… there’s something uncanny to his gaze." Mydei murmured with a hint of cautiousness in his voice. "i really hate to talk of him in such a way, but i know him longer than you, and—"

your brain almost — almost connected all the circumstances and dots you were pushing back for a long time already, living in denial — but then a familiar voice caused you both to jump back, straightening out.

"i’m back!" you turned to look at Phainon who held up three cones, a triumphant grin stretching his lips upwards. "now, what were the two of you talking about, hm?" he laughed inconspicuously, handing out the ice cream.

Mydei sent you a glare so stern, you’d never dream of admitting the truth. "just… discussing our favorite chimeras." you forced out, making up some hardly-authentic excuse on the spot. you saw the blonde man cringe at your dumb lie.

Phainon’s eyebrows lifted, and he nodded slowly, as if silently messaging he didn’t believe a single word. "is that so? well, Mydei was frowning so much i thought you were conversing about the very death." he joked lightheartedly, licking at the already dripping ice cream.

"it doesn’t matter, Deliverer. [name]’s telling the truth." he retorted, and you winced when he took a formidable bite out of the cold food.

you observed them exchange heated looks, but neither said anything further. with that, you took a small step back, hunching your shoulders inwards as you slowly licked on the ice cream — for whatever reason, you lost your appetite.

funnily enough, no matter how ominous Mydei’s words were, you soon forgot them. an awful decision on your side, but hey — at least you’re aware now that he remained completely truthful, then. you could be almost grateful at his high perception, though it didn’t help much at that time.

you were never close with the crown prince of Kremnos — he always seemed a bit distant, and detached from the rest. the only reason you had any contact with him was because of Phainon. perhaps that’s the reason why his warning dissipated so quickly from your mind — assuming you were better friends, you’d surely take everything he told you under consideration.

as you slowly reached towards the end of your favored piece, fingers falling rhythmically on the tiles, you began to think you should have listened. you should have taken it all to heart, ridding yourself of the blindness, and accepting the truth.

alas, you didn’t do so, and the longer you sit by the piano, playing and mulling over events of the past year, the more evident your demise starts to appear. every single sound resonates like the oh-so familiar footsteps, and singing of the night birds outside reminds you of his voice.

maybe he’s standing right behind you, and you just don’t know it yet. a silly, paranoid vision that was — you made sure to lock the doors, barricading them with additional furniture. you’d certainly hear it, if he were to force his way inside — but still, you feared to turn your head.

after all, when it came to Phainon, your cognitive functions always seemed a bit faulty.

the storm season began, and you shining with utter intelligence, forgot to take your umbrella. again. you swear, at this point you’ll have to write it on your forehead in big, bold letters — remember about the rain!, or something of the sort.

fortunately or unfortunately, you were close to Phainon’s place, so you quickly ran to his door, almost slipping on the mud. with a huff of exasperation, you knocked energetically, hoping he was home. your limbs were trembling from the cold, and clothes stuck uncomfortably to your frame, encompassing you in their heavy wetness. you barely stopped the chattering of your teeth.

after a few seconds, the man finally opened the door, obviously taken aback to see you. "oh, [name]!" he called out in surprise, immediately ushering you inside with a kind smile.

once he shut the entrance, you sighed in relief, drinking in the tranquil silence. loud rainfall was no more, muffed out by the walls surrounding you — and the air definitely got warmer, a soothing balm to your shaky joints. then, you turned to look at Phainon.

"i got caught up in the rain." you stated the obvious, a humorous snicker slipping past your lips as you quickly shook off the water-filled shoes.

your friend’s expression turned fond, and he cocked one eyebrow up at you. "really? i never would have noticed." he chuckled, reaching for your soaked hair — he raked his fingers through the strands, and you swatted his teasing touch away.

"anyway, i’m cold and i want something to drink." you stated, hurriedly dragging your feet towards the living room. Phainon followed in your tracks, just a few steps behind.

you sat on the leather couch, barely containing the shaky breath threatening to escape you. he stood in front of you, clasping his hands. "alright, how about this— self-service today, and while you’re preparing yourself tea, i’ll run you a bath." he offered, before quickly adding: "oh, and maybe i’ll find some fitting garments for you…"

the vision of a hot bath and dry clothes was better than ever — you nodded earnestly, jumping up from the couch like a wind-up toy. "sounds good. thank you, Phainon." you smiled, grateful for such a considerate companion. whatever ethereal being was looking after you, they certainly made sure to bless you with an angel.

he reciprocated the gesture, saying he’ll try to be as quick as possible, soon emerging upstairs. you already took a step forward the kitchen — but then something caught your eye.

door, slightly ajar, just in the corner of the room — of course, you were aware of their existence, but didn’t know where they actually led to. they always remained tightly shut, and Phainon never seemed to use them (at least in your presence).

upon some tinge of uncontainable curiosity, you walked towards the source of your interest. it was extremely rude to pry and search through one’s home while they remained unaware — but your friend wouldn’t get mad even if he found out, right? sure, maybe he’d scold you, but it would end at that.

you opened the door a bit wider, studying the space — it was rather claustrophobic, to be honest. it looked like a larder, except it lacked in any sort of food. a rather obscure wall unit stretched on your left, devoid of anything useful in particular — empty jars, some scrolls, everything covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. the only thing that didn’t seem abandoned was a carton box, situated atop a feeble chair.

you stepped forwards, prying its flaps open with the slightest of guilt — alas, the freshly ignited marvel won, and you couldn’t hold yourself back. at first it didn’t seem to harbor anything special, just a few books along with an innocent-looking wooden casket. you almost laughed, a bit disappointed to find nothing interesting — but then you saw it.

those were your books, the same ones you lent to him some time ago, and pretty much forgot about.

why would Phainon store them inside some dusty cellar instead of just giving them back to you? it was perplexing. you slowly reached for them, lifting the books up — everything seemed fine, and they lacked in any damage. you put them away, focus relocating towards the unfamiliar object lying at the bottom — a… diary?

you gently grasped it, your instincts screaming at you to abandon your task and go make yourself that damned tea. unfortunately, you decided to stay curious.

as you slowly opened it, you immediately got greeted with the familiar handwriting — it was loopy, and nice to the eye. you always envied Phainon because of it.

with a shaky exhale of thrill, you began to scan through the contents.

i finally spoke to [name] today. after all my hesitation, i can’t believe how gentle and kind she turned out to be. what was i so afraid of? i waited for the perfect moment, wanting to make a good impression — and i think it was worth it.

i bought her peaches, though i’m not quite sure why she was so hellbent on bargaining for them. she’s never lacked in money, at least from what i’ve managed to deduce. still, i bought them, and she surprised me by offering one back. such a small thing, and yet it meant so much. i nearly cheered out loud with joy.

it feels like a good beginning. earning her trust will take time, i know — but perhaps i can dare to believe i’ve already taken the first step. i dearly hope i’m not wrong.

your eyebrows narrowed together, and the air gone heavy in your lungs. what? just… just what the hell was he even writing about? yes, the piece of text seemed innocent enough, but it wasn’t hard to discern Phainon thought of speaking to you long before you personally met him. maybe you were simply exaggerating, and the man’s intentions remained pure — but still, you hurriedly shuffled through the pages, stopping on another one.

today was thankfully free from any obligations, leaving me with much time to devote to what truly matters: learning more about [name]. it’s not difficult to trace someone’s steps, honestly. i’ve always found it quite easy — some may say it’s somewhat unethical, but i never thought of it that way. ah, i digress, don’t i?

she doesn’t work — not surprising, really, considering her late mother’s fortune. if memory serves me right, that woman was once a pianist of some renown. still, i do wish [name] ventured out more often — her long absences complicate things unnecessarily. but i endure.

when she does take a walk, she moves as if without a particular purpose — never talking to anyone, never daring to look up from her feet. it fascinates me. what thoughts fill her head during those quiet strolls?

she has some sort of a fondness for that antique bookstore, near the main square. i paid a visit myself, naturally. the clerk, eager to please a Heir, shared the details of her last purchase — a memoir. i’ve never cared much for them, but if my [name] finds value in such lectures, then i shall too. it’s only logical, after all.

as always, i was careful today. our paths crossed — seemingly by chance, of course. i’ve gone to great lengths to ensure that every encounter feels like a mere coincidence. she likely thinks of them as such. there’s a certain naivete in her logic and understanding, a quality i find utterly disarming. it will certainly make things easier for me to ████ ██.

all in all, today was successful. i hope the following days will remain equally bountiful.

your hands shook now, jaw hanging slack as you barely stopped yourself from dropping the diary and bolting out of that man’s house. was this supposed to be a joke? if so, then it surely wasn’t funny.

he was a lunatic. Phainon — the one you considered your most beloved and only friend — was insane. he followed after you, tracking you down, as if you weren’t a real person with their own emotions, but a mere animal to hunt, shoot down, and put on display.

you were terrified. no, that was an understatement. you were terror-stricken. everything you took for granted suddenly crumbled over your head, rendering you frozen — but, perhaps, this really was only a joke? some… some kind of a fictional story Phainon decided to make up out of morbid boredom?

with that, you turned another few pages forward, hoping to see a revelation which could ease your anxiety, and finally clear up the misunderstanding. you had to squint your eyes a little, observing as the elegant handwriting suddenly took a sharper turn, erratic and barely able of discerning.

my hands tremble as i write this, the ink already smudging in places. it’s strange — i’ve faced peril more times than i can count — and yet nothing has shaken me quite like what happened today.

i met [name] at the bookstore again. i nearly commited a gravely mistake — i made a remark about her taste in memoirs, something she’s never confessed to me directly. for a moment, i thought i completely messed up everything i worked so hard for. i could see the faintest flicker of suspicion in her eyes, but she said nothing. thank gods for that. i had no excuse prepared, so i suppose i would’ve been doomed.

she invited me to her home to lend me some memoirs. as if the books mattered. of course i accepted — not out of my interest for the literature, but because the offer was simply too enticing to turn down. time with her, and [name]’s own beloved volumes in my hands. a chance like that cannot be missed out on.

i tried not to show it, but my eyes were drawn to her piano (i thought it looked quite proud and imposing). it stood abandoned in the corner, as if she completely forgot about it. i asked if she could play for me. [name] hesitated, but ultimately agreed.

what followed was something beyond music. her fingers moved with such grace, her posture so painfully poised. the room dissipated away. i watched, completely mesmerized. why did she not follow in her late mother’s footsteps? well, perhaps it’s better this way. the world doesn’t deserve her. not like i do.

as she played, i stepped towards her, putting my hands on her shoulders. she jolted up, stopping rapidly — startled, maybe. i should have felt guilty, but i didn’t. [name]’s surprise, her breath catching in her throat — it was alluring, in a way.

and then, i kissed her. not fully — just the brief touch of lips. but it happened. she didn’t pull away. if anything, i thought i felt her coveting for more. i backed out, though. if i haven’t, then i ████ ███████ ██.

[name] is driving me to the edge of reason. she doesn’t even know it, not truly. i am already hers. completely, helplessly hers. how could i not be? when i met her, i realized she was unavoidably special. ████ ██ i am sick with desire. she makes me ████ █████████.

so it wasn’t a jest, then.

you turned to another page.

what i did tonight would, by most standards, be considered shameful — depraved of any morality, even. but i feel no remorse.

ever since i first tasted the warmth of [name]’s kindness, i have found it impossible to resist my longing. could you believe it? she offered to teach me the piano. imagine that — her delicate hands guiding mine, her voice so close i could feel it brush against my cheek. we’ve started to play duets together. to be fair, it’s hard for me to contain myself with her sitting so close, side pressed into mine.

tonight, the ache became unbearable.

i broke into her house while she was asleep, and i observed her for quite some time. i wanted to take something from her — to soothe the torturous ache in my chest when she’s not near. i cut a lock of her hair. it smelled faintly of lavender and something sweeter i couldn’t name. i held it to my lips. it felt like worship.

i searched her study next — not to violate, or anything of the sort. i simply needed more. i settled on a few of her pens and a handkerchief, enthralled by the intricate embroidery. just little things, nothing valuable.

you couldn’t read it anymore. if there was a feeling comparable to being continuously stabbed into the heart, you certainly felt it now. shocked, you dropped the diary to the floor, practically throwing yourself at the innocent-looking box — your shaking hands reached for the wooden casket, prying it open without much finesse.

knowing what you would see at the bottom was more awful than remaining oblivious, and it caused your stomach to churn. exactly as it was written — a piece of your hair, tightly embedded with a ribbon of sorts. then, the pens you lost, along with the handkerchief.

you slowly put it away, careful not to make any sounds. Phainon was taking quite a long time preparing you this bath, or whatever the hell was he doing. running would be the wisest option — but something pushed you to bend down for the diary, and read another entry. you had to get some closure.

as you flipped towards the end of the filled pages, you noticed how messy it was — smudged ink, splatters of… something? on the paper, scratches so hard they ripped through. still, you forced yourself to decipher the following text.

i caved.

the restraint i fought to maintain finally tore. i’ve done something irredeemable, and yet i ████ █. perhaps that makes me ██. but if loving [name] this fiercely is madness, then let me descend into it without apology.

it began with my injury. she came to the infirmary, just as i hoped. the sight of her standing by my bed — so gentle, so beautiful — was almost too much to bear. i asked where she was headed, because obviously, she dolled herself up. i believed she’d say nowhere.

but no. she mentioned a meeting. a friend.

a friend.

████ █████████ ██ █████.

something cracked inside me then. who gave her permission to give her time — my time — to someone else? ████ ███ who was that man, to think he could occupy the thoughts and laughter that should belong to me alone? ████ █████████ ██ █████

i found him. of course i did. people like him are easy to track — even easier to silence.

i don’t remember much — the moment is a blur, as if my mind repressed it from the sheer disgust for that intruder. only the sound remains: a dull, heavy thud as his body hit the ground. after that, there was stillness.

he’s gone now. that’s all that matters. [name] is safe — untouched, unspoiled by others. ████ █████████ ██. she is mine.

i love her with a force i can’t contain. it consumes me. it burns like fire. but if she ever learned the truth — if she knew what i’ve done — i know she would hate me. she would curse my name. that, i cannot allow.

she must never see that side of me. no one must.

i’ll keep my secret buried deeper than that man i laid few meters underneath the ground. ████ █████████ ██ ████. and i will keep smiling when i see her. i will kiss her hands. [name] doesn’t need to know what i’ve done — only that i love her. more than anyone else ever could.

there was more — much more text to go through — an unhinged rant about whatever that maniac’s mind managed to come up with. unfortunately, you didn’t have the strength to read it. your stomach churned mercilessly, bile threatening to gather in your mouth. then, you heard the footsteps.

if not for that terrifying sound, you’d probably curl up on the floor and start wailing. you didn’t even have the time to process anything as you rapidly began to put everything back into the box, desperately attempting to recreate how the objects were laid out.

you began to count the steps. one, two, three, four, five.

he wasn’t in a hurry. you quickly put the casket back, placing the diary along with your books above it, wondering if you did that right — your vision obscured by tears, you fought tooth and nail to hold the waterworks back. if that man saw you crying, then he’d surely guess what you just found out.

six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

you shut the flaps of the box, stepping away to give that bedlam a last glance. you then turned, trepidation squeezing at your hammering heart.

eleven, twelve, thirteen.

as you opened the door, ready to walk out casually as if nothing ever happened, your face bumped straight into Phainon’s chest, causing you to stumble backwards. oh no. no, no, no—!

your eyes rose towards him, and you forced your expression to remain as neutral as possible. no matter for your heavy breaths, or the wet tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. at first, he looked equally surprised as you felt — but then, he smiled. a grin, more teeth than cheer, hardly reaching his blue irises.

"what are you doing here, [name]?" he asked calmly, the completely stoic tone of his voice causing your limbs to freeze.

Phainon’s eyes bore into your form as if he was a starving animal — a panting wolf, barely holding itself back from sinking its marred fangs into the hare’s nape.

you swallowed thickly. "nothing. i-i mean…" you stumbled over your own words, sweat dripping profusely down your temples. "i was just curious about this room, so i—"

"don’t worry, i’m not mad at you." he spoke, taking a step forward. "i’ve already prepared the bath, so why don’t you go and take it?"

against all your reason, you nodded obediently, trying your hardest to force your legs to move forwards. the man’s gaze refused to leave you as you dragged your feet over. then, a brief realization passed through your exhausted brain:

he’s not a poor dog, like i thought — he’s a full-fledged pack of rabid hounds, stuffed into a singular being.

you could only pray your sprint was fast enough.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere Eldritch being who has taken over your entire town.

TW. Dead Dove Do Not Eat Horror, confinement, isolation, death, Stockholm syndrome, yandere

You didn’t know when it had happened, but there was something very obviously wrong with your town.

It was the little things like the warped street signs, the inconsistent cracks in the sidewalk, and the way that the uncanny faces of people seemed to stare at you. It didn’t use to be like this, but you found yourself cautious about your new reality on the daily. You did try to leave and call for help, but there was some mysterious force cutting off your network. And when you did try to pack all your bags and high tail it out of there, you would end up just looping straight back on your street no matter what direction you drove in.

So now you made do with the fact that nothing was normal.

You sometimes wonder why whatever has infected all the people decided to leave you alone. Because there was no way it wasn’t a conscious decision. Your favorite flowers would start sprouting out of concrete walls and glass despite the fact it would be the middle of winter one day and a scorching summer the next. Not to mention, those flowers didn’t even grow here to begin with. It was a gesture. If it was meant to tempt or be kind, you weren’t sure. 

The town functioned like nothing was out of the ordinary, though. Well, at least it tried to puppet the barely real bodies of your community to do things they would daily. The grocery store always had food and figures milling about, and even though none of the products ever tasted quite right or had words in a real language, you could tell “it” was trying to keep things running for you.

You’d once tried to hide away in your house, thinking that it was somehow protecting you from whatever was out there. But all you did was make it angry. Constant thunderstorms that shook the ground, and hail that pounded on your roof and walls. When you continued to stay inside, that’s when it made things clear: it was letting you stay as you were. The house shifted dramatically, doors disappearing and walls bending in front of your eyes. 

Come outside. Stop trying to resist.

Privacy was just another one of those far-out concepts now.

The thing, as you so liked to call it, had been more affectionate lately. You didn’t know exactly how to describe it, but it had started morphing all the “people” into more attractive versions of themselves. Or at least, what it thought of as attractive to humans. Their faces were more tangible now and less blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but they were uncanny in a new way. Skin too smooth, too perfect in so many different ways. Symmetrical, full lips, pleasant expressions, soothing voices: all things that on paper would lure someone in, but it had alarm bells ringing in your head nearly all the time now.

“I don’t like this, you know,” You said one day as you sat in the diner. The room was stretched out wider than what it looked like on the outside, and the waitress had an unnaturally wide smile. Before you was a plate of… something. Your guess was pancakes.

“What do you mean?” Several voices asked at once. It came from all around, and the waitress’s mouth barely moved to match the words. 

“ I like you better when you aren’t trying so hard to be something you weren’t.”

There was a pause, and the building slowly unraveled into a jumbled mess of things that you could barely comprehend, the other patrons' faces and bodies melting away into linoleum floors. 

“You’re not human. You don’t have to be. I think I’d prefer that honestly,” You shrugged and poked at your food. From the corner of your eyes, a figure seemed to emerge from the mess of what used to be your favorite restaurant. It was a writhing mass of dark tendrils, reaching for anything nearby. You’re breath caught in your throat.

“Do you really mean that?”

The voice spoke, but there wasn’t any face to accompany it. It reverberated in the base of your spine, racing through your nerves like lightning. Your breath hitched, and you finally gathered enough courage to look at it. It was a mess of things you couldn’t quite make out, but it was almost comforting. 

“This is the first time I’ve actually seen you,” you admitted, a small laugh of disbelief caught in your throat. You couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time it had actually listened to you. 

The being twitched, pulsing as it slid over towards where you were sitting at the booth. It was the only thing that had stayed intact. For something so expressionless, you’d dare to say it seemed shy. 

From the inky mass, one tendril reached out for you, the air around it crackling. You stayed in place as it slid over your hand, and you felt the wonder and relief.

“Will you stay with me? I don’t want to force you, but I’m so alone… you’re the only one who doesn’t disappear when I’m near.”

You blinked as the mass filled the cracks between your hands, folding into the lines of your palms as if trying to memorize you. If it had a hand, you’d be holding it. If it had lips, yours would be slotting against them. If it had a heart, you were certain they’d be painted a similar shade of loneliness. 

You stood up and slowly approached it, holding out your arms as you leaned in, wrapped your arms around its slowly forming figure, and nodded in silence. 

[limyted]

“You Called My Liege?”

Yandere King x Jester! GN Reader

Tw: Dubcon/non-con,, obsessive,, possessive,, controlling,, NSFW.,, ALL CHARACTERS 18+ PLEASE.

Words: 1.6k words

Yandere Prince! Who had first seen you when you had walked in with you dad, your family had been a family of Jesters for the Royal Family for centuries for now.

Yandere Prince! Who met you when his father has introduced you two to each other, explaining that you will be his Jester when he is the future King, with that a bond had started to grow between you too.

Yandere Prince! Who has always been blunt, stoic and short tempered, but when being around your cheeky and playful personality and eventually his stiff personality melts away and welcomes you, soon enough you two would play around places around the Palace whenever your dad was called upon by his father.

Yandere Prince! Who killed his father when he had suggested that he was just maybe too close with his Jester, that it was inappropriate to be friends with his Jester. Who did his father think he was telling him what to do with HIS Jester?

He dropped the blooded sword, as he kicked the former king's head away from him.

“Clean this up.” he lazily gazed into the dreary eyes of his father, his voice devoid of any guilt or remorse.

“Burn the body and fetch me my jester.” A small smile spreading across his features at the thought of you as he pushed past the stunned maids who hurriedly obeyed, they wouldn't want face the wrath of the kings short temper.

Yandere Prince! Who has you by his side the whole coronation, and he gets a thrill when you called him “My Liege” for the first time.

Your skin warm from laying on grass, sun blazing on your skin, hands intertwined with the teenage future king, he was squeezing your hand as if trying to keep you from running away from him, but you decided not to pay it any mind.

You felt a slight tug, and you hummed softly.

“I don't wanna marry someone I don't know or even love,” He said, frustration and exasperation laced in his voice “but my father insisted it was a necessity for the economy of our kingdom.”

“If it's an economic boost you need, why not hold a royal jousting tournament?” You said softly chuckling at your own joke “Loser buys dinner... or a bride”

He looked at you deadpanned, you softly rolled your eyes.

“Who would you even marry?” You teased him softly “I don't know of anyone you fancy.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned, as he put his hand on your chin tilting it to face him. “But to answer your question, My fool, you would be my bride.”

You weren't really sure if the king was joking or not, so you had changed the subject instead.

As you walked down the halls of the Jesters towers, the king had requested for you the usual spot, the throne room, a room you've grown very accustomed to.

The door to the room had no guards protecting it, so you had entered. There sat the king on his righteous throne, his hand resting in his chin and legs crossed, clearly in deep thought.

“You called My Liege?” You said as you bowed, dipping low and a playful smile on your face. The king who's eyes now locked with yours, had merely patted the arm rail of his throne, you obliged.

“Tell me..” he says as he snakes his arm loosely around your waist, shifting in his seat to be closer with you.

You hummed lightly, it wasn't weird that the king was being so … affectionate, he'd always wanted to be close with you.

“Do you recall when I told you that I would make you my bride?” He asked, with a tone unrecognisable to you.

“Oh your little quip?” You answered, focusing on his thumb rubbing your waist slowly, his hand slowly making its way down.

He let out a lifeless, breathy snicker, “I do not jest, that is your job.”

!!Nsfw!!

He lifts you up, placing you on his lap, rocking you back and forth, you can feel his hardened cock against your entrance.

“But if you're going to be my bride, I need everyone to know you’re mine.” He said as he digs his hands into your waist.

“I think it's better to marry someone who..” You pause, as you try to squirm off his lap, but he holds you down, “Is more equipped to be a monarch.”

“You'd make a perfect spouse for me” He says as kisses and bites your neck, as he rips your clothes off your body, the cold air hitting your skin, makes you shiver.

You let out a soft gasp at the feeling of him biting your neck. “I'm gonna have to stretch you out,” He says as pushes two fingers into and you gasp loudly, pushing yourself against his chest.

With every sweet sound you let out he can feel his cock and precum coating his undergarments, he pumps his fingers roughly.

“Wow, you must really want to be filled, your greedy hole is taking my fingers so well,” He says as he picks up the pace of his fingers “has someone ever pleasured you so well?”

You already feel your climax close, but he pulls his fingers out “You don't release unless I tell you too, My Fool.”

You whine at the emptiness that fills you now. “Stand.” Nothing but hunger in voice, afraid you obey, you had seen what he was capable of with his sword.

He took off his clothing as you, his long and hard cock, throbbing and the tip glistening with precum.

He had grabbed you and bent you over the very same arm rail you sat on, he slowly pushed himself into your hole, grabbing a handful of your ass and giving it a hard slap, his hands travelling from your ass to your hip, letting out a loud groan.

“Oh fuck, you feel just right, your hole wraps around me so perfectly” he said with a dreamy like voice.

“What about the maids and butlers, I don't wanna be seen in this case” you said trying to bite back the moans that are bubbling in your throat.

“If they even dare to look, I'll kill them, your body is only for my eyes,” He says, thrusting deeply into you at every word he says, unable to keep your moans anymore, you let out loud moans that fill the room and his groans as well.

With each deep thrust you feel your climax closing in, and you can tell he is too with his fastened pace and his balls slapping your skin.

“Please cum with me, please, please, please” he whines and pants as he trails his hands up your back and pulls you as you both release, you relax as his semen feels warm.

The King picks you up, his hard cock still twitching inside you, and puts you on the throne.

“I'm not finished, My Darling.”

[suiana]

(yandere! golden boy x reader)

you don't think you've ever felt special. well, maybe your mom or something told you that when you were younger but you never really believed it.

you're too normal.

not exceptionally good at one thing, nor are you decently good at everything. you're okay at some stuff and you don't have any particular interests that you're really passionate about. and you know bevause you've tried changing. it's never worked, it never will.

because you're just you.

sometimes you wish you had talent, because then at least you'd be good at something. to lack the passion but have talent, that would be a dream for you. could you imagine? being effortlessly good and having people flock to you without trying? or even the opposite would be nice. being passionate about something sounds... like a life worth living. like your life has purpose. meaning. so what if you don't have talent? at least you'd want to be better, to improve yourself, to have the drive to live.

you have neither, what can you do?

all you do is go through the motions. wake up, go to work, come home, repeat. you don't have any hobbies other than watching the occasional television. it's not like your life is exceptionally hard either. you're blessed with good parents who love you and a select few friends that you're thankful for.

yet there's this... aching gap in your chest that's yearning for something more. something you can't give it. why? because you're just not special enough. you never are. you know this already, there's no use trying to change it.

so you scroll on social media constantly, trying to fill the empty gap in your chest.

but if anything, it only makes the gap worse.

it shows how much you're missing out, how others have it better than you. how others have something going on for them that lets them stand out. something that makes them alive.

maybe it's just the way things are, the way your life was always destined to be. to be the background character that admires others, never the one being admired. the supporting character that stays stagnant with no character growth.

you're just too average.

just plain old you.

plain like a cracker.

never the first choice, never a choice at all.

you merely exist on this world, you're never truely alive and living life like others. and it's a rather unfortunate thing to be doing when you could be achieveing so much but you're just... you. you don't even know who you are. you're just someone, really.

or at least that's what you think of yourself. he could never see you like that. not when he thinks that you're the best thing to ever happen to him.

he's the exact opposite of you. charming, handsome, an absolute adonis on earth. he's perfect in every sense of the word. and he chose you to give his heart to.

you have no idea why he even fell for you in the first place. you're average. not pretty, not ugly, just somehwere in between. you're not particularly charming or whatsoever, a little awkward but can hold a conversation. sure you've dated once or twice but they weren't serious and you didn't feel bad about break up either. you didn't feel much to begin with.

but with him... well, you think that maybe you just might have a chance.

those encouraging words and affectionate gazes, do you think that perhaps there's someone out there who could potentially change the way you live? the way you've been aimlessly drifting about?

there's just no way.

but you think you'll take the chance. with him, you'll get to do things you've never done before. if not, you'll just go back to where you were before. stuck in the middle, living out your days in an endless cycle of contributing to the Earth's death. there's nothing bad in accepting his hand, his promise for a better life.

at the very least, you'll have someone who tells you he loves you. someone who tells you that you're special and that you mean something. someone that partially fills the hole.

you just want to be somebody, and he'll gladly help you out. he might be a little bit too obsessive and protective, but you guess it's just part of him. he can't change something that makes him who he is, change isn't easy. you know that well.

and doesn't it feel nice to be wanted?

just trust him, everything will be fine. he'll teach you how to live, what love feels like. he'll protect you, take care of you...

"i love you, darling."

are those lies or the truth? you don't know, but you don't really care. would someone who wants someone as average as you ever lie about something like that anyway?

his affection burns with such a hot intensity that you're pretty sure could never be fake. you can see that, you're not blind. he very obviously adores you. that much you're sure.

so just give in already, would you? it would make things a whole lot easier if you stopped trying to resist and make sense of the world. sometimes... some things are just destined to happen. like how you see yourself as shit and he thinks you're perfect. that destiny also includes being with him. he won't accept anything else anyway.

don't worry, you'll be very happy. he's sure of that.

[lavandulawrites]

Genshin men or Honkai Star Rail men (whichever you prefer or tickles your fancy at the moment) with a darling that just likes to sit in their lap. Just a very cuddly darling that shows almost cat like affection (ie, darling will initiate affection when they want it, head buts as a form of affection? Just sort of nuzzling into the yandere when they feel like)

(Does this make sense? I just woke up)

Yandere HSR Men With An Affectionate Darling

Characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Moze, Mr. Reca, Sampo, Sunday, Welt

I chose Honkai Star Rail. This is such a cute request<3 Don’t worry anon, I understood what you meant:) I wrote this as soft yandere, but if you (or anyone else) wants me to write a more eerier version let me know! I’m open for yandere hsr men requests with different scenarios (though I’m most likely nit going to include as many characters as in this one).

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, soft yandere, obsession, possessiveness, delusional yandere, protectiveness

Word count: 1678

Argenti

Argenti thought your behaviour is absolutely adorable. He highly encouraged it and nuzzled his head onto the top of your head while whispering you praises.

His heart bustled with love and adoration as you sat yourself onto his lap for the fourth time that day. The Knight of Beauty is so very happy that you realise you are safest in his strong arms. With him you are safe from all the horrors of the universe. A poor little thing like you shouldn’t see such ugliness.

Aventurine

After all the horrors and the abuse the blond Stoneheart has faced throughout his life, your affection is something he deeply cherish. When you first willingly sat yourself down on his lap, his gorgeous multicoloured eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. After that he chases after your love and affection as if it were his lifeline (and it might very well be just that).

His hands tangled themselves in your hair as you rest your head against his shoulder. His breathing is uneven as he swears to himself he will keep you safe for eternity, no matter the cost. If he have to, he will burn down the entirety of the universe. Because there is no way in hell he will let someone as pure as you get hurt. His cheeks redden in uncharacteristically blush.

Blade

Blade had just come home from a particularly difficult and exhausting mission, when you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. His black heart hammered against his chest at the unexpected gesture. He hesitantly returned your hug while his thoughts ran through all sorts of possibilities that your gesture was a trap. When he realised that was not the case, he relaxed into the hug.

Now, every time he comes back from a mission, he can’t wait to feel your warmth again. He won’t initiate it, but it’s clear as day what he want. His feelings is deeper than what they were before and his possessiveness has gotten out of hand.

Boothill

Given his new identity as a Galaxy Ranger, Boothill had long given up the idea of such things as affection and loving touches. So when you first snuggled up to him almost like the barn cats he grew up with, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of phantom tears (oh if only if that doctor hadn’t removed his ability to cry). He brushed his emotions of with a cheeky comment and a chuckle at your shyness.

You being such an adorable little darling, he can’t leave you unprotected now could he? His new life mission is keeping you safe and everyone who stands in his life will pay with their lives.

Caelus

The eccentric young man loved snuggling up with you. It was rarely you couldn’t find him with you in his arms. Your affectionate behaviour only egged him further on. He was like glued to you. His amber eyes filled with hearts as he locked eyes with you.

One night as he held you in his strong arms, he decided he will keep you in his room from now on. You are much safer there after all and it isn’t like you don’t like him. So you sure wouldn’t mind it.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng had never been familiar with hugs and other forms of affection. Sure, he had read about it, but it was a foreign concept. So one could say the first time you hugged him greatly shocked him. It took a few times before he relaxed against you. His entire being brimming with joy.

He wanted to drown himself in your lovely eyes and always feel your warmth. His already existing possessiveness tenfold as his need to keep you close by and where his eyes always could see you.

Dr. Ratio

The famous doctor was extremely fond of your affection, but he rather not show it. It would be improper, but still a geniuses slips up from time to time. He can’t help the smiles that forms upon his lips whenever you snuggle up to him. You reminded him of a cat and he couldn’t help but gently stroke his hand over your back.

In public he will seem as stern and stotic as he usually does, but inside he is consumed with love that ran deeper than any well. His throat closes up when your hand finds his. Ratio loves coming home to your waiting arms where all his worries and sorrows seem to disappear.

Gallagher

Gallagher was as affectionate as a dog and he loved your cuddles. He seems comfort in your warmth and his heart softened like pudding when you do the same with him.

You’re safe within his arms. You are a fragile thing and Gallagher can’t help the need to protect you from anything. Why would you want to be alone when you could be with him? Your cuddle sessions becomes a normal part of your everyday life, a change which Gallagher welcomes with open arms.

Gepard

The first time you wrapped your arms around the Captain in a living hug, he froze in place just like the ice in the outskirts of town. His face reddened, but happiness overflowed his eyes.

Every time he came home from work he sought out your warm embrace. His stress melted away as you held him in your arms. He was glad you were content with staying at home and far away from the dangerous outside.

Jiaoqiu

The fox was very cuddly himself and was more than happy to indulge in your cuddles. His soft tail was more often than not wrapped around your limbs in an effort to keep you as close to him as possible.

He greatly appreciated your affectionate nature and used it as a means to keep you close to him and away from all harm. At night when his nightmares appeared and his need to lock you away crept through his mind, his hold on you tightened in a firm grip. He will never let you go.

Jing Yuan

The snoozing general loved your cuddliness. He found it adorable and it made his love for you deepen (if that was even possible). His protective arms were always snugly wrapped around you. You were his everything and he was beyond grateful for your loving affection.

Jing Yuan adored your soft personality and he would be damned if he didn’t use it to make you stay with him. Why would you bother to go outside when you could be inside cuddling with him? It’s so much safer inside after all…

Luocha

Luocha was a gentle man through and through. For him it was nothing more important than you. He enjoyed your affection and encouraged it with his skilled silver tongue.

He want to have you as close to him as possible at all times, but sadly that is not possible given his missions that require you to stay somewhere safe. When he gets home from said missions, the first thing he does is finding you and wrap his arms around you. He will pamper you as much as possible and his heart warms with love every time you snuggle up to him.

Moze

The assassin had always been wary to physical touch, and that with good reason. There was way too many people who would love nothing more than to see him dead. You, however showed him that affection was a beautiful thing (that might only be because it’s you).

With you in his arms, he let his guard down. He felt peaceful and he wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. His arms coiled themselves around you in a tight hold as he swore to himself that he would eradicate every obstacle.

Mr. Reca

The ideal night for Mr. Reca was a movie night together with you. Your cuddly personality came in handy for just that. Your warmth inspired him and he made sweet romantic movies with the main character inspired by you. Though no actor could even come close to capture your greatness.

He purposely put on horror movies to have you cling to him like a lifeline. You were so adorable that his heart almost couldn’t take it. You were so fragile and sweet that he couldn’t bear seeing any harm come your way. You will be safer hidden away in his home where only he could reach you.

Sampo

The cunning con-artist businessman could never get enough of your cuddles. He had no shame and often wraith his arms around you whenever you went in a tight bear hug.

Nights consisted of cuddles and sweet nothings. His love for you almost made his heart burst through his chest and his possessiveness grew every day. He was sure one day his heart would explode if he didn’t protect you from all the cruel things humanity was capable of.

Sunday

Your hugs brought warmth and comfort which was something Sunday really needed. With you in his arms all his worries seemed to disappear. His wings shields your face as you nuzzle your head against his.

You remind him of the little bird he and his sister found when they were children and the need to keep you safe is what drives him. He cannot bear to live in world without you.

Welt

There is nothing like a good cup of tea and you perched on his lap. He loves very sweet moment shared between the two of you. He has experience lots of horrible things throughout his long life, so the serenity shared with you is something he greatly appreciated.

He vowed to himself to always keep you safe. Though that is no challenge given how you prefer to spend your days together with him. He felt blessed that you felt so safe with him that you showed him your affectionate side. Welt will always put you first everything as you is more important to him than everyone else (they ones who tried to come between you won’t know what’s coming for them).

[hyacinth-in-a-haze]

Evening routine- Yandere kidnapper! x fem reader!

The day goes by slowly with him gone. Even if it is out of the necessity for socialisation you still find yourself missing his presence when he goes to work, waiting four hours for his phone call at lunch, and then another four hours for his phone call to say he is on his way. It is as though your clock has now become wired to cycle around his presence in your life. When the door opens to the sound of his tired groan you really do hate the way your head turns to look for him.

He is quick to collapse into your bundle of blankets on the couch, resting his head in the crook of your neck. Breathing in deeply trying to ground himself with you, as though he could become rooted to your body.

“I missed you so much today,” his voice is breathy, hair tousled, suit crumpled. As though eight hours of separation is a war he has to bear. Kissing the space under your ear as he complains about the mindless inconveniences within his day. It takes near ten minutes for him to separate his body from you, begrudgingly. Making his way to the kitchen and calling out his suggestions for dinner, with the expectation of a response from you now that whatever you've taken earlier has long since worn off. And contrary to what it appears he does adore your voice, he just hates it being misused to curse him out.

He takes one of your mumbles as confirmation and begins to take out the pots and pans. He never wants to rely on takeout, it's a treat for once a week at most if you're deserving of a treat. So far you've been doing well, finally adjusting to your new home. You stumble into the kitchen quietly, holding onto the counter for balance as you watch him silently. He clucks about, practically a mother hen as he gestures to the barstool at the counter.

You don't even understand why you seek him out now, but maybe it'd because in the absence and instability of everything you once had outside these locked windows and doors, you grasp onto the only constant you are offered.

In very little time there is a fresh plate of pasta in front of you. He steps off the pour himself a glass of wine and places a diluted cup of juice beside you. This is good. It is better than before, when you fought him off until hunger made you forget your pride, pride doesn't do anything for you here. It does nothing but cause you more trouble to stand up for yourself when he can bring you down so quickly to a begging mess on the cold floor. Meanwhile swallowing yourself down makes sure he treats you like a spoiled pet than a disobedient one. You open up without a word when he begins to lift your fork.

Your cup only gets topped up with more and more water until its clear, while he drinks until the bottle empties. The only notice he's indulged being the faint flush of pink across his cheeks. He gets affectionate when he drinks, in a clumsy way, stroking your hair like it's the most enamouring thing to exist. It would be cute if this was a first date rather than dinner with the man who plucked you from your life because he's the only one who can look after you properly.

The dishes get left to soak as he practically drags you to your bedroom. Dropping you down delicately, as your hair splays out over the pillows and your chest rises with each breath.

“You are so perfect like this.” He murmurs it like a prayer as he falls to his knees on the bed, hands clasped around your thighs as he kisses his way up them. He opens your legs without resistance, his head diving onto your clothed cunt like a man starved. Pulling your underwear off with animosity at its separation from your skin. It doesn't take you long to begin to buck against his tongue as he works his way around your clit. Hands clamped on your mouth as though that counts do anything to bury the sounds you are making back to where they were dragged out from you. When he presses his tongue flat against your hole you practically thrust upwards, hand embedded in his hair trying to pull him off as you cry its too much

He groans at the contact, taking it only as a sign to keep pushing through despite your pretty little whines of mercy. Which become more and more frantic as you find yourself getting close. With a cry more animal than human something shatters inside you, as you soak his sheets and face when you squirt. Collapsing into a puddle of embarrassment and shame for how easily he managed to wrap you around to his tongue. He finally lifts his face from your cunt, chin slick and glistening as you try to avoid looking at the tent in his slacks. Pretending to be so spent you can only nod off to sleep.

If only the world was so kind to alow you that.

“No no my love, you can't fall asleep just yet, what happened to brushing your teeth and cleaning off your face?”

He places a hand cool in comparison to the raiging flush across your cheeks.

“sweet little thing, did I tire you out so quickly? I think tonight we may be able to go without your little prescriptions so long as you continue to prove that that it can be managed by us?”

He leaves the discarded panties on the bedroom floor while he carries your strung out state to the bathroom, carefully repeating what he already done once before this morning. Only now there a new intensity within his eyes as he pulls the toothbrush in and our of your pretty pink lips. You are exhausted properly by the time you find yourself in some nightgown more suited to a period piece than your bedroom.

You let your head lol to the side as he hovers above you, pressing open kisses on any exposed skin in front of him as he pistons his hips in and out of you. With a desperation that if he fucks you enough then you'll be too cock drunk to ever have any animosity for him ever again. Mumbling in your ear about the future children you'll hand over to him, how they will have your eyes and his hair. That your firstborn will be a doctor or maybe a teacher, even a chef, he'd be happy with anything that could ground his greatest fantasy into reality.

When he cums he stays inside you, not wanting anything to go to waste. Crooning in your ear that his heart will break for how hard he loves you. As you slip into sleep, head upon his chest with his heartbeat echoing in your ears. His cum dripping down your thighs, you realise something.

He's no longer using that handcuff. Still glinting in the moonlight as it dangles above on the bedframe.

[horchatakoo]

IN HIS MERCY | JUNGKOOK FF PT.2

description: who would have thought that you, the queen bee of the school, would be a crying mess beneath the very boy you bullied?

It’s not your fault he fucks you too good… right?

warnings: nsfw, consensual non-consent, yandere jungkook, mean dom jungkook, big d!ck jk, cum dump yn, dumbification, blackmailing, manipulation, drugging

You slowly wake from your deep slumber, an agonizing headache throbbing in your skull. Instinctively, your hand reaches up to cradle your head, as if it could ease the pain. Your eyes remain shut, the lingering ache making it difficult to open them, and your vision is blurred—probably from sleeping for too long.

Something feels off.

The soft silk sheets against your skin, the plush, oversized mattress, and the faint, familiar scent of a man’s cologne mixing with the cool air—none of it belongs to you. It’s nothing like the small, sweaty bedroom you fell asleep in.

Panic surges through you. You jolt upright, eyes flying open, heart pounding as you take in your surroundings.

No.

You’re not home.

You’re in his room.

"Ah, you’re finally awake. Morning, princess."

Jungkook’s voice was warm, almost teasing, as he stepped into the room, a smile playing on his lips. He had opened the door just in time—as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.

Your throat felt dry. "Jung… wh—"

"You slept for so long, baby. You must be hungry." His tone was soft, affectionate. Too affectionate. "Here, I cooked for you."

Your thoughts were scattered, sluggish. You wanted to ask—how did you get here? How long have you been here?

But before you could even form the words, Jungkook was already moving. He set a tray of food onto your lap, completely dismissing your questions as if he hadn’t heard them at all.

"Jungkook…" Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He hummed, tilting his head. "Mhm? Yes, baby?"

He was acting sweet. But that was what terrified you the most.

A single tear threatened to fall onto your cheeks but you tried holding it in.

This isn’t normal.

He isn’t normal.

The man standing in front of you—the one smiling, feeding you, pretending like this was perfectly okay—was nothing like the Jungkook you knew at school.

A single tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another.

Before you could stop it, they fell freely, streaking your skin, your chest tightening with each passing second.

And then, with a shaky breath, you finally mustered the courage to say the one thing you had wanted to ask since you woke up.

"J-Jungkook… I wanna go home."

Your voice cracked mid-sentence, fragile, pleading—begging for mercy. Begging for him to take you back, to undo everything, to make things go back to normal.

To before all of this.

Jungkook’s expression didn’t falter. If anything, his gaze softened.

"Shhh…" He reached forward, cupping your wet cheek, thumb swiping away a tear. His voice was calm, gentle—too gentle. "Baby, don’t cry. I hate it when you’re like this."

His fingers trailed down to your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. His next words were almost painful.

"All I did was treat you right."

Then, he smiled.

A soft, sweet, twisted smile.

"This is your home now. Don’t you like it?"

And at that moment, you knew.

It was over.

There was no way Jungkook would ever let you go again. If anything, you were trapped.

And that realization crushed you.

A broken sob escaped your lips, followed by another, until you were crying freely, your breath hitching, hiccups shaking your body. You had lost.

But don’t worry—Jungkook was right there.

Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, cradling your trembling form. He shushed you gently, fingers stroking your hair in mock comfort, his lips curling into a sinister smile against your temple.

"It’s okay… it’s okay, baby. You’re gonna learn to love it here soon."

His voice was soothing, convincing, like he truly believed his own words.

"I even bought you new expensive dresses. You like that, don’t you?"

His hand trailed down your back, rubbing slow, possessive circles.

"You can be all pretty and dolled up just for me. Just like the good old days, when you were the queen bee."

As if those words should make it better. As if you’re like a kid that can be bought with a few dresses.

But… isn’t this what you always wanted?

A taste of wealth

Something that you have been pretending to have ever since,

and now? Jungkook was handing it to you on a silver platter in exchange of your freedom.

After a minute of sobbing into his chest, your cries slowly faded into quiet sniffles. Your body felt heavy, drained, your mind too exhausted to keep fighting.

You didn’t want to be close to him. Didn’t want to need him.

But right now? He was the only comfort you had.

And Jungkook loved it.

His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns down your back, feeling the way you melted—just slightly—against him.

So cute.

A minute ago, you had been babbling nonsense about wanting to go home, about escaping.

And now?

Now, you were seeking him out. Holding onto him.

But Jungkook knew better.

This won’t last.

You would come back to your senses. The moment your emotions settled, you would go back to being difficult. Stubborn. Fighting him.

So he had to fix that.

Had to take matters into his own hands.

Had to condition you… to train you.

To be his perfect little doll.

All pretty and compliant just for him.

Then, as if nothing happened, he leans back and tilts your chin up.

"Feeling better, baby?"

Knowing better than to resist, you nod weakly.

Jungkook grins, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.

"Good girl. Then let’s get some food in you, yeah?"

He reaches for the breakfast tray he had set on the bedside table, carefully placing it in front of you.

"I made this just for you," he says, his voice soft, affectionate.

On the plate, there’s warm rice, eggs, and crispy bacon. A glass of milk sits beside it.

It looks… normal.

You hesitate for a moment, staring at the food, wondering if it might be laced with poison.

Jungkook catches the doubt in your eyes and chuckles.

"What? You think I’d poison my pretty little princess?"

He picks up a slice of bacon and bites into it himself, chewing slowly.

"See? It’s safe, baby. Now eat."

You swallow hard, yet you choose to follow his orders, forcing yourself to pick up the spoon. You need the energy. You need to stay strong if you’re ever going to find a way out of this.

So you eat.

Feeling hungry, you manage to finish the meal, washing it down with the full glass of milk.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook simply watches, smiling and humming in satisfaction as you unknowingly drink the milk laced with drugs—ones meant to boost your arousal and keep you dumb.

“Your training starts now, baby”

“Come here, princess”

Jungkook calls you casually while he’s busy scrolling one of the papers he has to sign for the company.

His parents had recently just decided to transfer the company in his name, seeing how Jungkook’s temper and psychotic behavior has been improving - or so they thought.

Hearing him calling you, you did not hesitate but to happily crawl toward him, just like how he trained you.

The cold floor stings against your palms, the weight of the collar around your neck a constant, inescapable reminder of who you belong to.

The thin straps of your pink lingerie barely cover anything—your breasts threaten to spill free with every movement, and the fabric only hides what Jungkook allows to be hidden.

But the worst part?

The aching stretch of the plugs in both your holes.

Each slow, deliberate movement is humiliating. Each crawl toward him is a silent admission—you’re already broken.

Jungkook had fucked you full this morning.

Had plugged his cum inside you, his voice a low, mocking purr as he tilted your chin up and whispered;

“Don’t waste it, princess. Good pets keep their master’s cum inside.”

Now, as you finally reach him, Jungkook leans back in his chair, watching.

Amused. Satisfied. Completely in control.

"Good girl."

Then—he spreads his legs.

And pats his thigh.

"Now, sit."

You climb onto his lap, straddling him, your core pressing directly against his already hardened bulge.

Even through the fabric, you can feel him.

Thick. Hard. Waiting.

You can’t help yourself but naturally grind in him, but you were stopped with a slap in your right butt cheek

“Did I tell you to do that? So fucking horny can’t even control yourself”

Jungkook scolded you, which made you sob, “‘M, sorry daddy, Y/n just wanna rub”

Jungkook smirks at how pathetic you look. It has only been three days and you’re already broken.

“Really? Then you should ask for permission first, you’re a good girl aren't you?”

You nod, agreeing that you really are a good girl as you started begging him “D-daddy… Can Y/N hump?”

“Are sure that’s what you only want, princess?” Jungkook asked as he started rubbing circles on your

“Want daddy inside, feels so empty!”

Jungkook chuckles at your desperation, as he mocks you “Is that so, but you already have a plug to keep you full”

Jungkook loves you this way. He thinks you’re perfectly made for this - for him.

“Nooo… want daddy’s cock” You cried in desperation as you unconsciously buckled your hips, following the rhythm of his thumb.

“Really? Then prove it.”

You blink up at him, confused. “H-how?”

His fingers ghost over your collar, tugging it slightly.

“If you want it so badly, you’re going to work for it, princess. Show me how much you need it.” Jungkook suggested as he caressed your cheek

Without thinking, you slip off his lap, dropping to your knees on the cold tile floor. The impact stings, but you don’t care.

Your hands move frantically, fingers trembling as you unbuckle his belt, tugging down his boxers with urgency.

And then—

You’re met with the sight of his cock, thick, hard, and with a bit of precum spilling in his slit.

You drag your tongue along his length, pressing soft kitten licks against the tip, savoring the salty taste of his precum.

It smears onto your lips, glistening like gloss.

You hum in satisfaction—you love this. Love teasing him. It’s like licking ice cream, slow and indulgent, just the way you like it.

But before you can continue, a deep groan rumbles from his chest.

Suddenly, his fingers tighten in your hair, yanking you forward.

Your gasp is cut short as he forces your mouth down his shaft, making you take him in one swift motion.

Before, you would have been choking and crying, struggling to take him.

But now? Your throat has adjusted.

It’s as if it’s been reshaped just for him.

“Ohh fuck princess, you’re so good. Throat so fucking tight and warm, just like your pussy”

You wanted to say something, but you chose to stay focused, bobbing your head with determination, desperate to satisfy him.

But it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook’s grip tightened in your hair, and before you could react, he thrust his hips forward, forcing himself deeper.

You choked slightly, your throat tightening around him as he let out a low, satisfied groan.

“So, so good, yeah? Always ready to be used.”

And just like that, he pulled out of your mouth, before shooting his cum on your face.

“Thank you daddy,” you said, always grateful with everything he gives you as you collect the cum smeared on your face and licked it up.

"Bend over the desk. I’m going to refill you," Jungkook instructed.

You obeyed immediately.

Pressing your chest against the cool surface of his wooden desk, you arched your back, ass up, waiting.

Jungkook let out a low hum of approval as he reached down, peeling away the sheer lace fabric you’d been wearing all day.

Slowly, he pulled out the plug from your core, making you hiss at the discomfort.

The sudden emptiness sent a shiver through you.

And just like that—your hole was left gaping, clenching around nothing, as his leftover cum trickled down your inner thigh.

He chose to leave the buttplug in place, already planning to train you for anal—maybe tomorrow, or maybe even tonight.

“Ahh… jungkookie, pleasee”

“Shhh doll, I’ll enter you now” And just like that he inserted his thick shaft into you without prep, knowing your gonna take him so well

“Ohhh fuck… so good doll. Pussy so perfect for my cock” He praised as he continued ramming you core, while you’re just there taking it all.

"Shit, I’ve fucked you twice today, and you’re still so tight," Jungkook groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust deeper.

Your walls clenched around him, desperate, needy, perfectly trained to take him.

A whimper escaped your lips, your body trembling beneath him. "Ahh… ugh, I wanna cum, Gookie, please?"

Your voice was wrecked, broken, dripping with desperation.

Jungkook chuckled darkly, slowing his pace just to hear you whine.

"Already begging, princess? Tsk. So fucking pathetic. Hold it in, let’s come together”

The idea that the servants—or anyone in the house—might hear you? Long forgotten.

Your only focus was him. His cock. The way he was ruining you.

With a few more deep, relentless thrusts, Jungkook cummed inside you, his grip on your hips tightening as he filled you to the brim.

At the same moment, pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing as you squirted around him.

Your legs trembled violently, the overwhelming sensation leaving you too weak to hold yourself up.

If not for Jungkook’s firm grip on your hips, you would have collapsed completely.

"Tsk. Look at you," he murmured, smirking down at your wrecked, shaking form. "Can’t even stand without me."

You felt exhausted again, your body limp and spent.

Fortunately, Jungkook placed you gently onto his office chair, his touch surprisingly gentle as he grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off your flushed skin.

But before you could fully relax, you felt it.

The familiar stretch as he plugged your core again, sealing everything inside.

Your breath hitched, but you were too tired to protest.

It didn’t matter. In a few weeks, you’d probably be pregnant with the amount of intercourse the two of you had.

Jungkook moved toward one of the cabinets, pulling out a large hoodie.

One of his.

He slipped it over your head, letting the soft fabric swallow your exhausted, smaller frame.

You were already fighting off sleep, eyelids heavy, body sinking deeper into the chair.

Then his voice broke through the haze.

“Hey, baby. Rest now, okay? Mom and Dad are gonna visit later.”

Your eyes fluttered open.

"M-Mom?" Your voice came out groggy, confused.

Jungkook chuckled, kneeling beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah, my parents. You’re gonna meet them for dinner. Would you like that?"

You hesitated.

"Okay…" You nodded slowly, still unsure.

But the thought of meeting Jungkook’s parents sent an unexpected flutter through your chest.

Him introducing you to them…

As what?

As his girlfriend?

Right…

“Who’s this?” Jungkook’s father asked, eyeing you intensely.

His presence alone made it clear—he didn’t like you here. He didn’t welcome you.

The four of you sat at the long dining table, Jungkook beside you, his hand firmly clasped around yours beneath the table.

You sat stiffly, dressed in one of the expensive outfits he had bought for you—an elegant white draped dress, flowing over your figure. Your hair was left untied, cascading naturally over your shoulders.

Jungkook, unbothered, swirled the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip.

“You’re scaring her, Dad. That’s not how you should treat my guest.”

“Y-yes, honey… Look at this lovely girl, you should at least smile at her,” Mrs. Jeon added quickly, offering you a kind smile, attempting to ease the rising tension.

But you just sat there, uncertain, frozen.

You wanted nothing more than to leave, to go back to your room. His parents—especially his father—didn’t seem like good people.

“Smile? God knows where Jungkook got this girl from and what antics he pulled this time.”

Mr. Jeon’s tone was laced with disdain.

He knew his son too well.

He knew this wasn’t normal.

And it deeply concerned him.

They thought that, after all this time, Jungkook had changed. That he had gotten better.

But instead—he had only gotten worse.

Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightened.

His gaze turned sharp as he stared down his father.

“I don’t like you talking to my fiancée like that, Dad.”

The room fell silent.

Mrs. Jeon’s eyes widened, startled yet pleasantly surprised.

“Fiancée? Oh my…” She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest, visibly delighted.

Jungkook only smirked.

“Yeah. She’s family now. So please, treat her well.”

Your cheeks burned.

You hadn’t expected that. You hadn’t even known he had planned something like this.

And yet…

Your heart skipped a beat.

Somehow, you felt happy.

Jungkook was claiming you—officially, permanently.

You weren’t just his toy anymore.

You were his.

Completely.

Mr. Jeon, however, remained silent.

He knew better than to protest against his psychotic son.

Instead, he turned to you, studying your face.

The way you smiled at Jungkook.

The way your eyes sparkled at the idea of being his fiancée.

And it disturbed him.

You were just like him.

Twisted. Warped. Sick in the head.

And yet, for you, there was nothing better.

Nothing better than being Jungkook’s fiancée.

Than becoming his wife.

Your old life—the memories of school, of being the queen bee—had long faded into nothing.

But that’s fine…

Jaehyun and the others had forgotten you too, as if you had been nothing more than a passing superstar, once admired, now completely irrelevant.

All that mattered now was Jungkook.

Now, and forever, your only focus would be him.

Building the family he wanted.

The future he had already decided for you both.

-the end-

[mimi--writes]

Forever Mine

—"Don't leave me..."

—In which the television you see in your dreams doesn't want you to wake up.

A/N: Someone needed to make a Yandere Tenna fic and I guess it's got to be me. See my vision, I beg of you.

CW: Yandere, Manipulation, Guilt-Tripping

——————————————————————————

The Dreemurr family's divorce is a town wide scandal, the 'incident' causing it forever an unspoken haunt to the townspeople.

To you, however, it's the reason you got this nifty little free TV.

It's cool—works just fine, though it has some parental restriction codes that were quite the inconvenience to get through, but it's free. That's right. Zero dollars. You just visited Miss Toriel one day like you thought any good neighbor would. And luckily for you, she asked if you could take her television off her hands, because no one in the family used it anymore, and it just brought back memories she didn't want.

So you helped Miss Toriel and got a free TV. Sweet.

It sits in your house, affectionately nicknamed "Tenna"—because of its long antennae that almost seem to squirm when you touch them. You know it is far from the most modern form of entertainment, but it is entertainment nonetheless, and besides—you've reluctantly grown attached to this television. Late nights on the couch, just you and it, have become commonplace. Sometimes, you even fall asleep.

And on one of those nights, the dreams begin.

You are in a place so dark it's light again—bright, saturated colors in checkered patterns marking the floors, infomercials everywhere, and tons of little flyers with the same fuzzy TV silhouette your eyes can briefly make out.

Okay, what kind of fever dream this is, you don't even know. Might as well just make the best of it.

You pick up a flyer.

"Coming Straight From Your House—Mr. (Ant) Tenna's Marvelous Mystery Board!"

Some sort of game show- wait, did that flyer just talk?

There is suddenly a spotlight on you.

"That's right!" Continues the voice, with the same chipper yet even timbre of a gameshow host. From the wall behind you pops out-

A man with a television head.

A very hot man with a television head.

You would be remiss not to admit it, really. Sure, he does, well, you know, but the TV-head is really just a bonus! On top of that surprisingly charming suit and nice ass, the TV-head fills your brain with ideas that make you wonder if you are deranged.

You decide not to give them the time of day just yet.

Meanwhile, the man with the television head continues to race about his gameshow.

"Special prizes, physical challenges, and more, only on-"

"I'm in," you say, and for all his bravado, the television man—Mister Ant Tenna from the poster, wait, your TV is named Tenna, wait, are you seriously dreaming about your TV as a hot gameshow host—startles noticeably, antennae going ramrod straight.

"You are?" He says. You nod.

"Uh, yeah. Seems cool."

He claps his hands with excitement, and suddenly, a thermometer appears on screen, immediately cracking with excitement.

"Magnificent! Splendid! The Fun-O-Meter's off the chart folks! Mike, play the applause!"

And pre-recorded applause ensues. You wonder if anyone is actually watching. Except no one is watching, because this is a dream.

You go through the motions—play the games, win the prizes. You get Z Rank, because you have what many would call a massive skill issue. But Tenna does not mind, regarding you with the patience of a saint.

The credits roll, but Tenna seems hesitant.

"Maybe- another round?" He suggests. You nod.

"When I come back," you say, before he can get the wrong idea. "Every good show needs an intermission.'

With that, you leave your dream, certain that it really was just that. A one time dream.

But then, the next late night on the couch comes, and you find yourself in that same dream once again.

Tenna's antennae droop as he speaks to you in private afterwards.

"You sure took a lot time!" He says, trying to sound cheery. It fails, though, considering the way he shrinks in discontent. "It's alright though, I get it. It was fun enough, just me and the board- I've- never been good company anyways, and-"

He's trying so hard to sound alright with it that it just makes you feel even more guilty. His antennae droop, and you avert your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the guilt from stabbing at your heart. It doesn't work.

"You're great company," you say, in lieu of asking how come it was just him and the board when he has all those employees under him. "You know what? I'll stay as many rounds as you want! Seem fair?"

Immediately, he perks up, rapidly growing in excitement, antennae perked back up.

"Absolutely wonderful!" He says. The Fun-O-Meter once again explodes. Applause roars as Tenna starts rambling.

You play and play as many bonus rounds as you can until Tenna is something akin to satisfied. At last, you wake up.

You have slept through the entire day. Angry messages await you, as a result of obligations miserably unfulfilled. You don't even want to check them.

But you do. Typing out responses and making amends.

You wish you were back there, in that dream of yours.

So you stay by the television and fall asleep once more.

And once again, Tenna greets you.

"You came by faster today, darling!" He says. You find yourself liking the nickname, if only because it is him saying it.

You nod.

"That I did."

"Miss me?" He asks, and if he had eyes you just know he'd be batting them innocently.

"No," you start, trying to set up some sort of coy flirtation, but you immediately regret it when he visibly deflates.

"Oh," he says. "I- should have seen that coming. I mean, hah, you're absolutely stellar, darling, and I'm... Just..."

"I- I didn't mean it!" You hastily amend. "I was just joking. Really, I don't even know what I was thinking; I'm sorry!"

He smiles at that, placing a tentative arm on your shoulder.

"You-" he starts, before clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure. "You won't mind if I do this, then?"

And before you can ask what he means, he's pressing a fiery, impassioned kiss to your lips.

It's half-loving, gentle, like you are the most precious thing he has ever held within his arms, half an act of possession, like he wants to lay claim to you in a way no one else can. The possessive half is carried out guiltily, you can tell, the way he gently licks at all the bites he leaves, consoles you when you yelp at the little electric shock he gives.

You've never wanted anything more.

The kiss ends, and you find a gutted sob escaping you. Tenna startles.

"Was that not alright, darling?"

"This- This can't be a dream," you say. You feel pathetic, longing for a relationship conjured up in a fantasy like this. A man born from your own furniture, who obsesses over your happiness like it is his sole priority. That can't be what you want, and yet it is. "Please don't let this be a dream."

You suddenly feel a comforting hand on your back, the touch initially sending a shock down your spine."

"It's not a dream," Tenna says, breath tickling your ear. You can only hope he's right.

You wake up with a start, dreading the day.

——————————————————————————

The relationship of your dreams is half fantasy, half nightmare. Tenna is a sweetheart, indeed he is, always fretting over your every concern and comfort, letting your worries melt away with his games and challenges.

And then sometimes he'll snap, scold you or break, and mere moments later, he'll be on his knees, begging not to leave.

"Please stay," he begs you one night, the blow of the wind that should have been pleasant chilling you to your very core. "You're all I have. Please-"

"I will," you nod, gulping. He doesn't believe you, face contorting into its familiar motion, and regardless of having no eyes, it's oh-so expressive that it immediately makes you shoot up with dread.

"Say you love me," he whispers, shaking you with a manic sort of feel. "Say it."

"I love you."

"I don't believe you."

"I- I love you," you say. "Please."

And like some sort of trance has been broken, his head jerks, the hands that were only just shaking you now cradling with the gentleness you normally know.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, kissing reverently as if that'll prove anything. "Don't leave me. Please."

You know you won't. You can't. You'll keep waking up later and later in the day, letting him take more and more out of your time. He is greedy, absolutely ravenous when it comes to you, and he'll devour you whole if that's what you offer.

And yet you offer yourself whole anyways, because you just can't say no.

Time passes. It's all a blur. You remember less and less of your day to day activities, and more and more of your dreams. Of Tenna, sweet and charismatic and pleadingly manic the next. How he beckons for you to stay even when the ring you now recognize as your alarm screams for you to wake up.

And how could you not, when his kisses are so inviting?

It all comes to a head one night.

"Stay," he murmurs, serving you dinner. You sigh.

"You know I will," you say.

"Not like that," he says. "Stay here. Forever."

"For- ever?"

Your eyes widen as the implication of his words catches up to you all too late.

These dreams- no- they're-

"I have a life back outside," you say, panicking as his antennae twitch in displeasure.

"Then you'll leave me to rot...?" He asks, falsely resigned. You gulp. You know him better by now. You know how intelligent he is. How assured.

He knows exactly what you'll say, that he knows you know but you'll do it anyways, damnit-

"That's not what I mean," you say. He sighs.

"Of course you can tell yourself that!" He says. "I really am insignificant... Just a tryst-"

"I'll stay," you say at last, acquiescing as you always have. He beams, kissing you like a touch-starved puppy, and you forget yourself for a few moments.

As far as any of your friends and family know, you will never wake up again.

But as far as you know, intoxicated by the seemingly permanent love in the air, you are the most awake you have ever been.

[1k1ga1]

Hello!i do not know if requests are still available,but is it alright if i ask for yandere!dion with a very kind and soft reader?like she is always giving dion compliments and hugging him,even patting his back.giving him sweets after he came back from a mission,u know?

❝ 𝓗𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝓜𝐄 , 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝓜𝐄 . . . ❞

━━ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 💭 𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐀 / 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃’𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 💭 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐗 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄 ! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 💭 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 , 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who was unfortunate enough to be born as one of the black agriches notorious for their atrocities, yet he was also just a callow child with twinkling ruby eyes and a cheeky smile and no child has the capacity to be inherently evil. dion was not born a monster, but being a monster was all he’s ever known; becoming a monster was how that young child survived his bloodline, and somewhere along the way, his emotions had died along with the child he could’ve been had he been born into a normal family.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who’s never known the gentleness of a mother’s touch nor did he ever get to experience the warmth of a true family. all his life, death creeps in his shadow with stygian tendrils that wreath around his ankles — his hands tainted with so much blood they’ve turned black. he is convinced that his heart has been frozen, and yet somewhere inside the uncharted corners, there is a forsaken child that he’s rejected for his own sake, desperately crying out for someone to pacify his visceral yearning.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who notices your eyes first. most people look at him with fear, contempt, disgust, or they wholly delude themself of the part of him that is a murderer seeking blood. you are not most people. when he first meets your eyes, there is nothing but serenity and warmth. your pupils are unclouded and he can almost see his own reflection in them — you don’t reject the part of him that is sinful and a killer. instead, you accept him as he is — flawed and tainted and pathetic — and deign him with your kind smiles anyways.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn't understand the new emotions festering within him after meeting you. the mere thought of you intoxicates him, and it’s even worse when he recalls your affectionate gestures in his presence. you’re just so dizzyingly sweet — too sweet that he could taste you on his tongue and feel you ballooning in his chest and coiling around his cold heart, squeezing and squeezing until he’ll unfold in your grasp.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn’t know how to receive your affection at first, and instinctively finds himself pondering about your ulterior motives. he’s never been treated with such gentleness and endearment before, and whatever crumbs of familial affection he could get out of his half-sister, it all came with a price. so, what was your price? perhaps you required his expertise as a killer, perhaps you wanted to use his status to get to his family, perhaps you wanted to exploit him for all he was worth — or, perhaps, you just wanted…him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who was at an utter loss when you confessed this truth to him. the sincerity in your eyes betrayed no deception, yet how is it possible for someone to love him? how could someone like him be loved? dion agriche, convinced of his incapability to be loved, was unconvinced of your love for him. he sternly rejects you, because behind an expressionless face, he fears what he’s known all his life would only further be confirmed when you ultimately realize he’s unlovable.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who becomes baffled by your persistence after his rejection. he expected you to crumble and concede after being the subject of his callousness, yet you remained unfazed. you were undeterred in your mission to ‘love’ him, and witnessing your resolve — like a rock worn down by the waves — dion made a decision that would change his life; he chose to let you love him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who becomes flustered when you amped up the affectionate gestures to the max after receiving his reluctant blessings. typically, your touches would only be limited to fleeting pats on the back or the handshakes that you insisted on for a bit too long. but now, the gestures has become full-on embraces whenever you catch sight of him, long hand-holding sessions as you drag him around the garden, or the occasional moments when your touch would flutter over the arch of his cheek as you admired his eyes.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who, with his high walls and guarded heart, finds himself completely unraveling at your touch. in his turbulent and bloody life, you become a solitary sanctuary where he can let down his guard and shed the ruthless mask of an agriche. perhaps it was something about your mollifying presence, or the way your smaller fingers would distractingly trace shapes on the back of his han, and of course, the way your embrace always smells sweetly of you and whatever tea you indulged in that afternoon.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who finds himself getting comfortable — too comfortable with being treated delicately and spoiling himself in the limitless shower of your affection. by now, he’s finally admitted the fact you’d weaved your way into his heart and snuggled into the corner you’d created that just seems to continue growing. and now that he’s had this realization of just how significant you’ve become to him, he begins to feel the creeping fear of his life without you in it. dion finds himself desperate to have you finally see him for all that he is and bind your very soul to him before you could have the chance to run away, and this thought gnaws at him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who stumbles into your chambers late one night, the blood of his latest targets splattered across the pale canvas of his skin. his inhuman appearance was purposeful, for he had intended to test you one final time; to see if you could love even this pathetic side of him that was nothing more than a weapon of bloodshed at the whims of his family. however, when you merely wipe the blood from his face with eyes shining with concern for him, he watches as the blood smears across your skin, yet you make no comment of it. even as he laid vulnerable in your arms in his most wretched form, you don’t push him away, and only hold him dearer.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who realizes that although he might be an incorrigible monster in the agriche’s hand, in your gentle hands, he is worthy of love, and he finally shed tears while enveloped in the softness of your embrace.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who learns about love through you; love is the murmuring and crooning voice that sings him praises and admiration, the small hand that massages his scarred and burdened back like a soothing balm, the same hand that combs carefully through his hair, and the heartbeat that puts his mind to a peaceful sleep when you cradle him against your chest. for the first time in his desolate life, dion agriche discovers what love is instead of what it isn’t.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who learns that he too can be loved thanks to you, and who learns to love you just as utterly.

[harmonysanreads]

Halcyon

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Phainon x Reader

Some very soft Yandere themes. AU where there is no war, everything is fine, you and Phainon are happily married and have the ‘Puppy Phainon’ thing as an inside joke because today is Phainon Loving Wednesday. Written in the span of an hour so please excuse any errors. Enjoy the domesticity.

“Phainon, paw.” you beckon. It's as if the subtle curl of your fingers scratch a certain part of his brain, making him forfeit his hand to your outstretched palm in utmost obedience.

You gently squeeze his fingers, caressing his cheek with your free hand and it takes not a millisecond for him to lean into the touch. Eyes closed, lips stretched and survival instincts lost in bliss.

“Phainon, sit.” you order again. Ivory locks bump with the air as he straightens up, hand still in your grasp.

You hum, scrutinizing every little movement. The man does not dare breathe, eager to pass your assessment.

You lock your attention into those soliform eyes, observing the ripples among their serene surface at your next command, “Phainon, faint!”

He takes a second to soak in the word, before plopping down as if there exists no thought in his mind. The mattress dips under his weight, bedsheets rustling as you shift a bit closer to his defeated form.

Your fingers find refuge in his hair, the affectionate ruffles entices another seraphic smile to bloom on his face. But you're not done yet. Tracing the line of his jaw, you conduct his attention to you once more — the quirk of your lips perhaps a bit too sly.

“Can I get a ‘woof’?”

The ripples on Phainon's eyes still, a blink is all you see before you feel your head rest against the bedsheets — your husband's hand withdrawing after shielding the back of your head against any potential hurt. His towering form shields you from the acronycal rays, his silhouette illuminated by their touch.

You're not sure what you were anticipating, but Phainon's hand sliding from the curve of your waist to settle on your ankle certainly was not it. Your chiton slides up as he tilts your foot up, lips pressing against the dorsum.

“What... what are you doing?” you think you finally understand why Phainon looks like he's malfunctioning whenever you tease him. It should be obvious what he's doing, but the unexpectedness of it rendered your mind blank. You feel your lips purse against your will, the realization admittedly poking your pride.

“Since me acting like a puppy makes you so happy,” he rests his cheek against the skin he just kissed, peering up at you with dewy blue eyes. “What do you say to us taking the play a step further?”

You're certain he can see your mind buffering, if the way he smirks is anything to go by. Your hand reaches towards that smug smile, the force of your pinch making him whine and let go of your ankle in surprise.

“Bad boy.” you try to sound stern, not relinquishing until pink coats the area where your fingers squeezed. But your attempt at remaining firm remains for not long, as his carefree giggles fill the air — they're contagious, too idyllic for you to continue pretending that he ever displeased you. And soon, the sun-kissed afternoon becomes redolent with both of your laughter.

Such bliss faces an abrupt interruption, the insistent ringing of the calling bell of your apartment making you both cringe.

“Don't gooooooo!” Phainon clings to your clothes by instinct, baby blue eyes waxing with the tides of all the puppy energy he's gathered in that singular stare. All too used to his tactics, you gently push him to loosen his grip. Getting up after giving a pat on his head, as if to tell him that you'll be back soon.

You recognize the sight behind your door, “Sorry to trouble you, but could you lend me some salt?” it's the man who you remember living on the floor above yours, appearing rather flustered for such a simple request.

“Oh, sure. Give a moment.” you're about to turn around to go fetch the item, but an abrupt pitch in his voice stops you.

“Uhhhhhh on second thought, I'll just go buy it! Sorry again!” he dashes out of your vicinity before you can reply with anything. You stare at the now vacant area, taking a few seconds to register what exactly happened before your shoulders sag with a sigh.

“I know you're behind me, Phainon.” you call out pointedly, feeling no need check if your assessment was true or not as the accused man leans his entire weight against you.

“You were taking too long!” he grumbles against the dip of your shoulder, grip tightening around your body.

You heave a sigh again, crossing your arms over your chest. You consider whether you should reprimand him for death glaring at an innocent man again, but his coaxing gestures soothe your complaints.

“You know what, that irritated me as well. So, I'll let you off the hook this time — ” that is all he needs to hear to scoop you away from the ground. The loud thud of the front door being shoved close echoes around the building, as if to warn everyone to not intrude in your sanctuary, again.

[juricel]

god your yandere smc lives rent free in my head i wanna punch him, kick him in the shin and then give him a lil kiss

also if you're feeling up for it and your requests are open, would you mind writing some headcanons about yandere smc w/ a reader who is defiant but not really in the "kicking, yelling, screaming" way but in the "i will do my best to make your life miserable and inconvenience you as much as possible " (think refusing to talk or engage, entertaining herself in isolation, snarky backtalk; very much "cat making eye contact with you while pushing a glass off the table" energy, defiant yet still subdued)

bonus points if the reader is usually an affectionate person and continues to be like that w/ candy apple (hugs her/pats her head, speaks nicely and sweetly to her, treats her like a lil sis/daughter)

thank you so much for your time!! your writing is amazing!!

a/n: i'm flattered! and please do feel free to do so, anon... he more than deserves it with how he's been treating the reader in my fics.

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x defiant! reader hcs

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, physical abuse, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, mentioned and implied mindbreak, stalking, potential ooc.

𖦁‎ oh, he would adore your defiance! shadow milk cookie loves games, and he would view your defiance as such and daresay, it certainly has became his favorite game, even taking over the throne of his most beloved hobby of breaking cookies apart and observing them falling down the never-ending rabbit hole from illusions.

𖦁 your distant attitude towards him wouldn't faze him whatsoever either, and if anything, his lovesickness would delude himself into thinking it was a natural reaction of yours from being in love; oh, you're not listening? oh, that is no biggie for him! he'll simply blabber your ears off, isolating yourself? has his dear forgotten? he is an omniscient presence within earthbread and his kingdom, there is no way to flee from him, he'll just trail along behind you! being a petulant thing against him? oh, that's adorable! surely, you jest! breaking one his precious gifts he spent his time on solely for you? oh, silly little you! how clumsy you are! being such a nice lover, he'll put it back together! you didn't mean to break that, don't you? you didn't, right? he'd break your arms. regardless of how you much you pay no heed to his presence, he is an everlasting existence and will forever be right beside you! there is no escaping him and his sight, it is just as fate concluded, after all!

𖦁 candy apple cookie—although, you treat her nicely—doesn't mean you're still exempted from her trickery: for her undying loyalty to shadow milk cookie overshadows anything to her; she'd allow you to braid her hair, all the while inquiring you why you loathe shadow milk cookie when he's just protecting you from the cookies outside, in love even! in that sickenly sweet tone of hers dripping with deceit. she'd even ask you to come with her for something she proclaimed was in dire need of help for only to lead you to back to shadow milk cookie with a cheerful face, giddily probbing shadow milk cookie if she did good.

𖦁 to shadow milk cookie, your defiance is none but a mere game to him, however, the moment you went against him and betrayed him by helping pure vanilla cookie within his spire? oh, that is when he actually takes your advances seriously. why are /you/ helping that pesky little thief? can't you comprehend that he's punishing him for taking what was his? don't tell him that you fell for that querulous cookie's lies? yes, surely, pure vanilla cookie did something to you that turned you against him, truly! what a fiend, stealing his soul jam and then you? oh, he is gonna crumble him into pieces! he vows on the witches the moment he's done with him he would be beyond recognization. you, on the other hand, unmistakably needed some tweaking—yes, he'd need to find a way for you to not do that again, surely, his sweet dear wouldn't mind being confined, would they?

a/n: extremely short compared to my other works but i do hope its fine.

[misstycloud]

Yandere loser

Yandere!Loser who is a prime example of the stereotypical nerd. He is not especially good-looking, has no friends(if you don’t count the pigeons he feeds in the park on Saturdays) and faints at the idea of being the centre of attention. Usually when he is, it’s not for a good reason.

Yandere!Loser who thinks you’re very pretty. Granted, it’s what everyone else thought too. But you’re totally different from him! You are popular, has many friends (who’re not birds..) and is not shy at all.

Yandere!Loser who wishes he was in your league. That way he might actually have a shot at being with you. The only thing he’s not average in is his grades. He had the idea of tutoring you and that way get close to you, but he scrapped that idea the same day. He just didn’t have the courage for it.

Yandere!Loser who thinks he’s dreaming. You were confessing your love to him!! Of all people?! He has to pinch himself hard to prove he is, in fact, in reality and this was not a fantasy his mind had created.

Yandere!Loser who starts stuttering in front of you. He humbly(and quickly) accepts your confession. The poor boy is too caught up in the moment to notice your grossed-out expression. He is so thankful for your feelings. The thing is, he too, is in love with you. He would’ve wanted to seal your future with a kiss, but when you back away, he fidgets nervously and says it’s fine; your kiss can wait.

Yandere!Loser who wants to be the best boyfriend ever. He know he’s not as tall or athletic as your exes and many admirers. But he’s smart and he’ll try his best to make you happy! You just have to ask and he’ll do your homework. He can also carry your stuff to class, and he’ll even fetch drinks for you and your friends. It’s fine, he doesn’t mind! Promise.

Yandere!Loser who grows to be insecure. He overheard others talk, and apparently they can’t believe you would chose to go out with someone like him. They laughed at the thought. And here he was thinking everything was going perfectly. Sure, you’re not as affectionate as a girlfriend would be normally(how would he know though, it’s not like he has any experience) but you’re obviously taking your time to warm up to him.

He’s definitely the perfect choice for you. Just let him prove it!

[casuallyanidiot]

So what is the readers life like after Danny/yandere farmer married them? Other than motherhood being forced on reader

I grouped these together because they kind have similar answers lol

Danny is super manipulative and condescending to the reader. I like to think that he started to think of her as someone he could save from poverty and whisk her away into a life of relative ease when they were younger. It probably was just a small crush or fantasy at first, but he started to get out of control when he realized that no one would really stop him or call him out on his behavior.

Reader's parents think he's some kind of savior, and the rest of the town still think of her like some lucky tramp who someone snared the town's golden boy by baby trapping him. Not many people can think of it being the other way around for various reasons. I mean, come on, why would a rich, sweet boy with prospects shack up with some two bit backwater hick? It just doesn't make sense.

He'd be super affectionate and happy to finally have you, but he definitely holds his wealth and reputation over your head to make sure you stay in line with what he wants. Just because he "loves" you doesn't mean he'll just let you run wild.

He'd buy you nice clothes, force you to go to the salon and get your hair and nails done. Like he promised, you wouldn't have to work in the fields or with livestock anymore. All you do, all day, is sit pretty in his family home while he gets your new house ready.

He's very attentive and sweet, but really, it's only because he always gets his way.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

HELLO!

May I request a Yandere Sonic, Shadow and Silver (seperate) with a fem reader where comes from a different reality where they are fictional and somehow the hedgehogs became attached and obsessed with reader, reader is very much aware of their behavior and is also one of the reasons why she wants to go home to her own reality fast.

Sending loves to youu!!🫶🏻🤍

A/n: poll on, so now I'm putting images, I couldn't find any good ones

Yandere triple s x reader

Sonic:

At first, you couldnct believe it, you were in Sonics world.

The rolling green hills, the endless loops, the vibrant colors of the world, it was surreal. And meeting Sonic? That was the best part.

He was exactly like you imagined. Charismatic, funny, energetic. You geeked out about meeting him, and he was amused by how much you already knew about him. Sonic took an immediate liking to you, eager to show you around and let you experience the world firsthand.

The first few days were a dream come true. Running through Green Hill Zone, meeting Tails, going toe-to-toe with Eggman (it was actually more like watching Sonic handle it while you stood on the sidelines). Everything felt like a perfect adventure, straight out of a game.

Then, things started getting... off.

It began subtly. Sonic insisted on staying close to you all the time. You figured it was just him being protective. After all, you were just a human, and this world was full of dangers. But the more time passed, the more suffocating it became.

He started pulling you away from the others, cutting conversations short when you were with Tails or Amy. At first, he made excuses, "Hey, let’s get outta here! I've got something way cooler to show ya!" but you quickly realized he was isolating you.you started getting weird dreams.

You dreamed of your real home, your reality, the place you desperately wanted to return to. But every time you woke up, Sonic was already there, sitting beside you with an unreadable expression.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, his voice casual.

When you admitted what it was about, his expression darkened.

"You really wanna go back, huh?" He leaned closer, his smile strained. "I don't get it. You've got me here. What's better than that?"

The moment you realized something was deeply wrong was when you tried asking Tails about ways to return home.

Sonic snapped.

One second, he was his usual self, the next, he had grabbed your wrist, his grip too tight.

"Why do you keep talking about that?" His voice wavered, his usual confident tone slipping into something more desperate. "Aren't you happy here? With me?"

You tried to reason with him, but his grip only tightened. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, had a wildness to them.

"You belong here now" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

From then on, he never left your side. Your freedom was a distant memory. Anytime you tried sneaking off to talk to Tails, Sonic was there. If you attempted to run, he caught you within seconds, always smiling, always acting like it was a game.

"Aw, c'mon, Y/N, you know you can't outrun me."

Every time you tried to bring up leaving, his mood shifted. His smiles became forced, his voice strained.

"Look." he eventually said one night, his voice eerily soft as he trapped you in his arms. "I don't care what reality you came from. This is where you stay."

No matter how fast you tried to run, Sonic would always be faster.

And he wasn't letting you go.

Shadow:

Unlike Sonic, Shadow wasn't immediately friendly.

He kept his distance when you first arrived in the world, observing you with narrowed, calculating eyes. He didn't trust you, not at first. You were an anomaly, something that shouldn't exist in his reality.

But as time passed, Shadow became curious about you. How did you know so much about him? Why did you seem so comfortable around him when most people feared him?

You intrigued him.

Slowly, he started spending more time around you. He was never openly affectionate, but he showed his care in small ways, keeping you close when woth others, ensuring you never strayed too far, glaring at anyone who got too friendly with you.

And then, one day, you mentioned wanting to go home.

Shadow froze.

"You want to leave?" His voice was cold, unreadable.

You explained everything, the fact that he and his world were fictional in your reality, that you had a life to return to. You expected him to be logical about it.

Instead, his expression darkened.

"No."

You turned back to him. "...No?"

Shadow stepped closer, his eyes burning into yours.

"You belong here. With me."

It wasn't a request. It was a statement.

That was when your nightmare truly began.

Shadow started following you everywhere, wether you were aware or not. Always watching, always near. If you ever tried to leave his sight, he'd appear within seconds, his expression always unreadable.

He sabotaged any attempt you made to leave. If you tried to seek help from Tails or Eggman, their machines mysteriously malfunctioned. If you ran, Shadow found you instantly, his Chaos Control ensuring you never got far.

He never hurt you, but his presence was suffocating. Every conversation ended the same way.

"You can't leave."

There was no reasoning with him.

Shadow wasn't keeping you here out of malice.

He was keeping you here because, to him, you were the only thing left worth protecting.

Even if it meant stealing your freedom.

Silver:

Silver was the sweetest at first.

He was kind, gentle, and eager to help you. When you arrived in his world, he was fascinated, your knowledge, your personality, your very existence intrigued him.

And for a while, everything was perfect.

Silver went out of his way to make you comfortable, ensuring you had everything you needed. He was protective, but not overbearing, at least, not at first.

But then, you mentioned going home.

Silver's expression fell, his ears flattening. "What...? You want to leave?"

You tried to explain, but his hands trembled as he grasped your shoulders.

"You can't leave." His voice wavered, his usual optimism crumbling. "I need you here."

From that moment on, Silver changed.

He became more desperate, always clinging to you one way or another, never being more than three feet from you.

Whenever you tried to argue, he just shook his head, pleading. "Please don't talk like that. I love you, Y/N."

He would do anything to keep you.

And if that meant trapping you in his world forever...

Then so be it.

[tacowacco]

˚₊‧꒰ঌ The Jester and the Princess ໒꒱‧₊˚

🌀 court jester!shadow milk x princess!(fem)reader

🌀 cw: obsessive themes, yandere themes, unhinged smc, mentions of arranged marriage, medieval time period (might not be 100% accurate), and possible ooc.

🌀 a/n: my longest fic yet, 2048 words :))! i hope you guys enjoy this as much i did writing it. inspired by romeo and juilet!! should i make a pt 2?

You were the daughter of one of the wealthiest royal families in Crispia, making you the princess of your kingdom. You were beloved by everyone in your realm due to your unwavering kindness, intelligence, and ethereal beauty. The citizens of your kingdom held you in high regard, affectionately referring to you as “Your Highness” and “Princess Y/n.”

“Father, what's this?” you asked as you accidentally tumbled, due to your inability to see anything because of the blindfold you were wearing.

“Open your eyes now,” your father excitedly says as he removes the blindfold. You blink a few times trying to regain your vision, until your eyes widen seeing a jester before you. 

“Tis I, your humble jester, here to brighten up your mood! Shadow Milk Cookie!” the mismatched-eyed, blue doughed jester said as he lowered his jester hat and bowed. 

“The famous playwright, poet, actor, and jester...THE Shadow Milk Cookie?” you blabber seeing the famous jester in front of you.

“My, my, my, I didn’t know the princess was such a huge fan of mine!” Shadow Milk says teasingly. Your face flushes immediately, and you quickly turn your face the other way embarrassedly. 

“Wait..is he our court jester, Father?” you ask.

“Correction, he is your court jester.” your father corrects you.

“Mine? Mine! My very own court jester!” you exclaimed, believing that this would bring some excitement to your otherwise monotonous royal life. Contrary to popular belief, being a member of the royal family wasn’t as thrilling as many imagined. In reality, your life as a princess was often dull and filled with tedious tasks.

— ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—

Shadow Milk truly enjoyed being your personal court jester; he delighted in watching you laugh at his jokes, become captivated by his theatrical tricks, and applaud every one of his performances.

You were different; you adored every single act of art he performed. Shadow Milk noticed how tenderly you looked at him, how your eyes would glisten while staring at him after he finished a play, and you truly adored him.

He admired you deeply—your gentle laugh, the graceful way you moved, and your unwavering kindness to those around you. You were not only beautiful but also perfect in his eyes. You possessed a unique charm and brilliance that no one could surpass or replace, even in the slightest.

He loved you. Love that made him claw at his own skin because he simply couldn't tear you out of his heart.

He despised how your precious smile made him weak in his knees, the sound of your voice as addictive as the finest wine, and your gentle laugh making his heart skip a beat. 

He needed you.

Not in a way a child needed a toy,

or a dog needed a bone but in the way the ocean needed salt.

A flower needs water and sunlight,

a heart needs blood.

When it came to you, an unfamiliar sense of greed overtook him; he felt a strong need to have you by his side—where you rightfully belonged. He wanted you all to himself, to worship you and treat you like the graceful deity he believed you were. His love for you bordered on obsession—he was truly obsessed with you.

He needed you to survive, but there was one problem: your social differences. You were a princess, the heir to the throne and he was a court fool. Yet, that didn’t stop him because he knew that deep down you too also loved him as much as he did.

You were looking at yourself in a mirror, trying the new dress your mother gifted you unaware of the jester lurking. You turned around again, letting a small yelp as you were met with the jester in front of you.

“Ah— Shadow Milk!” you yelped, before he placed a slender finger on your soft lips. Quietly shushing you, “How’d you get here?” you asked. 

“What can I say? I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he teases, noticing your beautiful gown. “My, my! What's this? I haven't seen you wear this gown before...” he coos, playfully fiddling with the hem of the dress.

“It’s new; my mother gifted it to me for the ball tonight. She told me that tonight's ball is a special occasion, and she’d like me to look more lovely than ever,” you say.

“I’m afraid that's impossible, my poppet. Everything you wear only enhances your beauty, which surpasses even the most beautiful flowers,” he says as he kneels on one knee and gently kisses your hand.

“Oh, you flatter me, my jester,” you say, looking down at him and gently cupping his face. You gaze lovingly into his eyes as you run your fingers through his dark blue hair. The moment is sweet and intimate. Suddenly, it comes to an abrupt end when you hear your mother calling your name, “Y/n? Y/n, are you here?” she calls out.

“Quick! You must go now!” You say, hurrying Shadow Milk. He quickly jumps out of a nearby window disappearing into the forest of green trees and flora. You quickly fix yourself before your mother opens the door, and comes in. 

“Who was that you were speaking to, dear?” your mother questions  

“Ah, nobody, don't worry about it dear mother,” you say awkwardly. 

“Oh Y/n, you can’t go to the ball looking like this. Here, sit down and I’ll brush your hair for you.” your mother says as she picks up a nearby brush and motions you to sit down.

Your mother hummed a tune as she gently brushed your long hair, running her fingers through the soft, silky strands. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, which highlighted both her beauty and yours.

“Such a lovely daughter I brought into this world,” your mother said, gazing lovingly into your eyes. “You’ve already grown into a woman.” 

“It feels like just yesterday that she was born,” your nurse remarked as she folded some laundry. 

“I hope to live long enough to see the day you get married and have children of your own, Lady Y/n.” Your Nurse said as she gently smiled at you.

“Tell me, my daughter, what are your thoughts on marriage?” your mother asks happily, tenderly holding your hands.

“I suppose I’ve never really given it much thought,” you respond sheepishly. Marriage hasn’t been something you’ve considered yet.

“Then take some time to think about marriage! Your father and I would love to see you happily courted while we’re still here,” your mother says excitedly. 

“Ah...I suppose I could give it some thought,” you say as you awkwardly smile. Your mother cups your face, “That’s more like it.” she replies as she leaves your bed chamber.

— ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—

Shadow Milk lurked in the crowd, observing as you danced with various people—unimportant side characters, in his eyes. He believed he should be the one dancing with you; it should be his hands touching yours, and all your attention should be focused on him. Those people didn't deserve your undivided attention; it should belong to him. They weren't worthy of being in your presence, of breathing the same air as you. Finally, after watching for a while, he had had enough.

Shadow Milk ruffles through the crowd of people, his identity hidden behind the mask he was wearing. He shoves through the crowd of people dancing, chatting, and having playful banter until he stops once he sees you. There you are, chatting with one of your cousins–an unimportant side character he thought. He walks forward towards you pushing your cousin aside before asking you, “May I have this dance with you, Your Highness?” 

The people nearby gasp and whisper among themselves, eagerly awaiting your response and next move. “Of course, why not?” you say, taking the masked gentleman’s hand. All attention shifts to the two of you as you make your way to the center of the dance floor. His right hand rests on your waist, while the other hand holds yours, guiding you gracefully. You both move sideways, your feet parting before coming back together. You accidentally stumble, but fortunately, the masked gentleman catches you and twirls you in an elegant manner that charms the onlookers and crowd.

Before ending the dance, the masked gentleman gently kissed your hand and walked away, leaving you captivated and wanting more. You stood there dumbfoundedly, watching as the mysterious man disappeared into the sea of people. Suddenly, something inside sprang and you hustled through the crowd of people chasing the man. 

Finally, out of breath, you caught up to the man. “Wait!” you say, breathing heavily. “I didn’t catch your name, mysterious gentleman,” you add.

“Don’t believe I dropped it,” he teases, turning around and placing his finger beneath your chin to make you face him.

“Who are you?” you ask, completely captivated by the charm of the mysterious masked man. You gaze deeply into his eyes, lost in a trance, until he leans in and kisses you softly. You pull him closer, embracing him in a gentle, passionate kiss.

You pull away and lift the mask off his face, gasping as you see it was your jester beneath the mask the whole time. “Sh... Shadow Milk? How did you get here?” you ask.

He cheekily giggles, “See my dear poppet, as a jester I have numerous tricks hidden beneath my sleeves. After all, a magician never reveals his secrets.” He says this as he prepares to climb down the balcony railings.

“Wait!--Shadow Milk..!” You holler, causing him to abruptly stop climbing down. “Yes, my princess?” he replies. You pull him closer kissing him. You two kiss plant kisses onto each other's lips.

“My, my, I didn’t know the princess had such a soft spot for me,” he teases, planting another kiss on your lips.

“How could I not? After all, you're my favorite jester,” you say, returning the kiss. He pulls away and begins to climb down, “Wait!” you say once more before planting a long, passionate kiss onto his lips. 

“Can’t get enough, can you? Your lips are sweeter than the sweet honey that comes from bees. They're so addicting, my lips seem to always miss their touch,” he says. 

“Lady Y/n!” you heard your nurse call out, “Coming!” you say before pressing one more kiss onto the jester’s lips. 

“Y/n? Y/n!” your nurse called out one more time, “Give me a second!” you holler as you finally press one last kiss onto Shadow Milk’s lips.

“Goodbye, Shadow Milk..I’ll see you again,” you say as you watch him disappear. 

“There you are, Lady Y/n! Your mother has been looking everywhere for you,” your nurse says as she appears behind you. "Your mother says it's time for bed."

"Alright, thank you Nurse." You politely reply as you enter your bedroom, thinking about your encounter with Shadow Milk. You flop onto your bed, giggling and kicking your feet at the memory of him and reminiscing about his gentle kisses and sweet words. Hugging a pillow, you roll over, repeating his name softly in your mind.

Your fingers brushed over your lips, recalling how his lip gently pressed against yours. You already missed his touch. Oh, how you loved him.

"Oh, Shadow Milk.." you reply to a lingering thought about your encounter with Shadow Milk.

— ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—

As soon as you woke up, your parents needed to inform you about some important 'exciting' news. You knew that meant nothing good.

“Y/n, your father has arranged for you to marry Count Pure Vanilla in four days’ time, as he has chosen you to be his wife and love,” your mother says immediately. Your heart drops, and you feel tears begin to prickle from the corner of your eyes.

“What? No! I will not marry him!” you say in a fit. 

“Y/n! You will marry him,” he says sternly. 

“No! No! Please father!” you beg.

“Y/n! I will disown you and throw you into the streets if you do not marry him,” he says in a fit of rage. You turn to your mother, and give her a look of hopelessness. "Oh, Mother please!" you cry, tugging the sleeve of her dress.

"Enough is enough. You are marrying Count Pure Vanilla, and that's the end of the story," your mother replies harshly as she drags you into your room, leaving you with your nurse. You tumble onto the ground, beginning to wail as your nurse leans over to comfort you.

"There, there, dear," she says, wiping your tears away. "Perhaps marrying Count Pure Vanilla is the right choice. He is the most desirable husband you could have." your nurse states.

But your heart belonged to Shadow Milk. Little did you know, you were always his to begin with.