#yan!scout

[respawned-dove]

hihi!! really excited to see the content u make. can i get headcanons for a yan!scout? pretty please?

1st requests, and it's one of my favourites! You didn't give particular specifications on the reader character, so the reader is neutral on every trait.

yan! Scout x gn! Reader Headcanons

CW/TW: obsessive behaviour, controlling behaviour, stalking, home invasion, inappropriate touching, dubcon, guilt-tripping, death threats, sex mentions, manipulation, forced isolation, physical threat, threatening of family members, death of family members and friends, lovebombing, guns

Both BLU and RED Scout's basic instincts are to run, hit, scare off, or cling very hard, and those traits leak into their ways of showing love and obsession.

Scout is actually quite impressive, outwardly. Even with his more annoying aspects, he's cool and charming, he's good with girls (even if not so with ladies), he has an athletic body and he's very funny. It's not hard for him to draw people into his circle initially. As long as you're there and willing to compliment him and build up his ego then you are exactly who he wants around him for a night. For most people he is flirtatious with, he keeps them around for one night stands and for sleeping with. Someone distant yet all over him is just what he's always wanted. But some people are different... They actually like him, and they actually seem to desire him in an intimate way. This treatment very easily translates into romantic affection, as his idea of what would be a good relationship is very shallow. "If that person genuinely enjoys being around me, then that must mean they want me bad."

The crush forms, and the fear sets in for him. Someone is getting close to him, and therefore might see through the dents in his ego and find out the 'truth' about him. (There is no underlying truth, but Scout believes he, deep down, does not live up to his place in this world, and therefore doesn't live up to even who he is as a person.) And he could never bear to lose the positive attention you give him. For a phase, he becomes very distant from you, not necessarily cold, but he definitely seems to be avoiding you, and there's an air of performance to all of your interactions. Scout considers it a test, quizzing you in a way you're not aware of. If you keep seeking him out when he pulls away, if you chase him and continue to want him around, then he will consider that a confirmation that you want him, just as much as he does you now.

Scout continues to keep a distance, but more like a 'walking twenty feet behind you everywhere you go" sort of distance. It's not stalking, he tells himself, he's just making sure he knows where you are that day, knows if you talked to anyone about him that day, to make sure he knows you have that gift he gave you in your room, and he knows you're getting home safe. Seeking validation that you like him even when he's 'not there' (he will be there). He has a weapon, but that's just in case any creeps tried to follow you home or something!

Speaking of gifts, Scout gives them pretty often. He actually found something to spend his massive income on besides Tom Jones merch, and that something is you. It's not his specific love language, but it is a way to make sure you stay there with him another hour or two, always waiting to get the gifts he pulls out. You start getting gifts in the mail too, marked as from Scout. You don't remember giving him your address... Eh, he probably used the yellow pages for it, is all.

His actual love language is physical touch and words of affirmation.

For one thing, he can't seem to keep his hands off of you, even if it's in subtle ways. Things that could still be considered friendly, like a hug that lasts slightly too long, or grabbing your hand when he's showing you something and 'forgetting' to let go. Slowly, they get less friendly, and it turns into things like holding your shoulders from behind you, getting caught eyeing you up, or 'accidentally' touching your hips and chest. It's easy enough to laugh it off, he's a silly guy who's most likely playing around with you. A lot of his playing around is annoying like that. But the more you let it go, the further he pushes your boundaries. Touching your chest without removing his hand for much longer, grabbing you by your hips to move you around, touching your face for far too long to be comfortable. You still don't feel comfortable calling him out for it, not when he's so friendly and nice to you the majority of the time. And hey, him being nice to you makes you feel special! He can be a dick to others, and right now, you get to laugh at it from the other side rather than be stuck in his ire.

For the other, his need for approval from you knows no bounds, and he puts himself in a lot of risky and stupid situations just to hear you praise or fawn over him and how cool he is. He wants to feel adored, admired, appreciated, valued. And if you can give that to him, then you will never get rid of him. Scout can become so compliment seeking that it's uncomfortable for you, begging non-verbally for your affection like you're his mother or something. Sometimes very demandingly forcing you to look at him while he does something 'cool', expecting heavy praise from you for it. Not giving him that praise is arguably the worse option, because he will get cold and angry at you, sometimes pouting or refusing contact for multiple days. Usually when he gets back and you apologize, it comes with what you think is a playful threat to kill you if you keep it up. You hope it's playful.

He's been stalking you for months as he pretends to be your friend, and he knows so much about you now. He knows exactly how to make you laugh and exactly what you like in a person. He knows what your closet draw full of underwear looks like and he knows that you sleep on your side with one leg placed higher than the other. He knows your typical meals for the day and sometimes buys them for you before you even ask for them. From your view, Scout starts to seem awkward around you. You can kind of guess why, seeing as he hardly leaves you alone for 24 full hours at this point.

He ends up asking you out, properly. Not just friends or even his usual FWB relationships. No, he wants to date you now! Forever, hopefully!

cont.

—

If you accept his request, you will be in for the sweetest honeymoon phase of your life, full of gifts and nonstop affection and a boyfriend that craves your approval like a puppy. But he won't remain that way forever. Scout's senses run on fear like a wild animal, and the longer he gets to keep you, the more he needs to cling, to keep you secured to him. He starts trying to have sex daily, just to confirm to himself that you desire him. Sex starts to become aggressive, grabby and demanding, gripping you by the hair and ordering praises from you.

Scout needs to be where you are at all times, he must control what you're saying about him and what you think about him by being near you no matter what.

He starts to do everything for you, from cooking to holding doors open to driving you everywhere to paying all of your bills. Slowly you begin to realize you aren't doing anything independently anymore. Scout makes enough money for the both of you, so his request to quit your job feels like a no-brainer by now. He can and does pay for everything you need, and if you didn't know before, you definitely know he's doing something illegal for a job now.

He eventually begins throwing out the idea of you not leaving the house all together. Just think about it, he offers, cleaning his guns off in a way that is definitely unrelated to this conversation. What's the point of it when you have everything you could ever want here? Why do your friends need to see you outside when they can visit us here? Are you saying things to them I can't hear? No, of course not. So start staying here all day, where it's safe and I can always get to you.

Scout comes home covered in blood sometimes. You would question why your friends stop calling after those days, but you're not stupid. He slowly narrows down your circle until you don't talk to anyone but him. Even your family no longer contacts you, and you don't blame them with how threatening Scout can be. Scout has an entire family of people that could 'take care' of them and he made sure they know it.

On the surface, he still is a very loving, doting boyfriend who hangs off your arm and fulfills almost any request you have. He can provide for you and he clearly adores you in the way he seeks your approval all the time. You really do have a great partner, at the end of the day, one who takes care of you so well. What do you deserve to complain about? Scout is everything anyone could want. Murder and control issues notwithstanding.

—

If you reject his request, he will take it as a huge blow to his ego. If you offer to still be his friend, that's an even bigger blow. He thought you liked him back just as much. How could he be wrong? No, he wasn't wrong. You're just confused, surely. He just needs to double down somehow, to remind you of what you want. People love it when you patiently wait for them to change their mind. As little patience as he even feels like he has at this point. He's still following you home, and this night, he waits until you're asleep, and then sneaks in through a window you left unlocked. Why would you have left it unlocked, every time he comes here. It must mean that you know he's been doing this. That you do want him like this, but you can't admit it to him. He watches you sleep. You're beautiful when you sleep.

He takes something from your clothing drawer that night. Something you wear all the time, something he can be certain you'll notice. If you bring it up to him in a certain way, then he can tell if you know that he's doing this. He can't sleep that night, staring at your clothes on his desk chair. He's certain it must smell like you. So he tests it. And it does. Not the proudest J.O. of his life, but definitely one of the best, with your smell right there with him, your clothes wrapped around his dick for him to thrust into.

Two days go by and you haven't noticed. He puts the soiled clothing back into your drawers. Now there's no way you won't notice. And you do, bringing it up as an oddity that only might be something creepy, and nothing more. He's left you no reason to be suspicious so far either way, so him as the culprit doesn't cross your mind. But to him, it's the sign he needs that you know it's him.

He breaks into your house again that night. And again the next. He starts to practically live inside your house at night. He's doing poorly on the battlefield, and no one on the team really talks to him anymore, because the only thing he talks about is you, your rejection, your 'secret' of still loving him. That's fine, fuck those guys. Why does he need their approval now when he has you? You're the only thing he can seem to care about since then.

Around then, he asked you out again. Though the circumstances may be a little different. He breaks into your house while you're awake this time. Not only are you shocked to see him, but he has a gun as well. A gun pointed right at the side of your head as he asks, moreso demands, that you date him. There's a shaky desperation to his words, and a look in his eye that glints with the intention to harm you if you act out of line. There isn't any choice but to say yes, really. And he makes sure you don't call to anyone for help, either, staying with you through the night with the phone lines to your house destroyed.

He keeps you in the house the entire weekend, but on Monday, you have to go to work. And you beg him to let you leave just to cover your shift. He paces as he thinks about it, tapping his gun in his hand with his face screwed up in consideration. "Alright, you can go. But you know good 'n well what I'm capable of. You tell anyone, and they won't be alive to do anything about it."

And he's there to make sure of it, too. At least once an hour you swear you see him come into your work and loiter, watching you. It seems like every time you look up he's there somehow. Yet, when you get home, he's on your couch eating like nothing ever happened.

You're his partner now, whether you like it or not, and you will be kept with him through any coercion or cruelness necessary. One or two of your family members do die before you learn to keep your mouth shut and give him what he wants. Attention, admiration, approval, value. You are what gives him value. You will adore him or you will die. You should know to be a good partner by now instead of pissing him off.

[sunnydaworm]

POV: You just had to be there to understand

You just had to be there

[luckywaffles]

This is the time that scout has said something nice to spy

[heartfullofleeches]

Aspen [Femboy Housewife Yan] with a darling he suspects to have been a former assassin like him, but they were just in boy/girl scouts as a kid and or enjoys hunting-

-

A small gasp proceeds the successful latch of a suitcase to the roof of your car. Muscles burning from the stress and the strain, affectionate squeezes to your arm come off more painful than they had meant. You brush the ache aside, settling your hand atop your wife's head as he rests against your shoulder.

"Darling, you are a godsent! I was beginning to fear we'd have to leave something behind on our vacation. The expertise of your knot typing can't be ignored either. Had I not known any better I'd say you tied things up for a living! Perhaps even.... people?'

You sheepishly scratch at your neck. "Eh, not exactly- Though, there was this on time me and my folks caught a deer larger than the bed of the vehicle we drove in so we had to tie it to the roof."

Darn.

He thought had you this time. You always come up with the best excuses to wave off his questions. He knows he's close- Just thinking about how romantic it would be for too former killers to fall in love makes him weak in the knees. Someday you'll slip up and he'll catch you.

Until then, Aspen could only pray you used your knowledge with a rope on him during your vacation.

[banj0possum]

got exams next week but ive been having silly little thoughts for a while now and i thought you guys are probably starving rn so here it is

imagine a mercenary group made up of hybrids and you, a small lil guy, has been stationed with 2 big burly hybrids for a mission

not sure if i want dog hybrids or cat hybrids or something

snow leopard hybrid and tiger hybrid being protective over tiny black cat darling whos supposed to be their scout. they make up excuses like "youre too small and domesticated to handle such intense missions, just let us pamper you and we'll save the easy ones for you ok?"

or

husky and german shepherd hybrids with a golden retriever darling. theyre all strict and mean business but they are struggling to keep up their professional behaviour when their teammate is literally helping a grandma across the street while theyre waiting for their target to appear

oR

wolf and bear fawning (hah) over deer darling. theyre supposed to be the team's medic and they go crying to you saying theyve scraped a knee or something (when theyve literally taken bullets during missions) just to spend time with you (this ones a little bit too much like my yan!minotaur tho)

idk what do you guys think?

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Soldier/General x Fem!Reader

'His little bride.'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, power dynamics, mentions of sa, p-in-v sex, mentions of war and military, implied violence, threats, possible dub-con as reader does not know the full story behind our yan's goals, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names.

(AN: Not me coming back from the grave to drop a horny fic and this disappear again. Gonna go eat some pumpkin roll.)

Part 2 here

The sound of papers shuffling and a heavy sigh pierces the usual quiet of General Fritz's office, which is only occasionally broken by you dusting or rearranging one of the many books on the various shelves that lined the room. It's been 3 weeks since the invasion of your small town of Cyril, and the few civilian homes not destroyed in the invasion have been turned into functioning barracks and homesteads for the troops that now occupy your town. While not ideal, the army Fritz serves aligns with the beliefs of your villages people much more than the opposition, and while they are still invaders, many believe them to be the lesser of two evils. You remain as quiet as you can as Fritz attends to his work with a furrowed brow.

General Fritz, while known for his excellence in military strategics and his translation skills, seems to be struggling with the morning's crossword puzzle. A man of 42, he has served in his countries army since he was just 15, leaving his family's small farm and quickly rising through the ranks. He's a scarred man, with many gashes, stubble, and hair that when not in public is rather unkempt. Despite the things he's seen, a kindness remains in his bespectacled eyes. He gives up on the crossword puzzle, allowing the paper to fall to his desk with a 'plop!'. You glance over at him, and approach.

"Sir, is there anything you need, you seem a bit, well, stressed." You say, trying not to impose but express concern. When the troops arrived, many men were recruited, and many girls had to seek jobs. Some had to turn to unsavory means to get by, but you were lucky, you supposed. You were scouted out to serve as a guide and servant for the general, to both give information and serve his needs. While the thought of serving a strange man, one much older than you at that had frightened you, he was nothing like the other soldiers you had seen. He was polite, careful not to scare you off, provided you with good quarters, and never laid hands on you. All in all, the situation would have been perfect, had you not missed your family's bakery from which you were taken. For reasons you didn't fully understand, he never wanted you to travel far beyond his estate and into town.

He sighs. "I am fine, my dear girl. Just dealing with some disputes at the border of the county. Nothing you should concern yourself with." He says. He looks up at you, his glasses reflecting the light of his desk lamp. "Would you mind drawing me a bath, my dear? It has been... quite the day, and I think I need some time to relax." You quickly nod, and scurry off to the master bedroom, entering the attached bathroom and beginning to fill the tub with hot water. After some time, Fritz enters, looking as though he is fighting the urge to ask a question. "I... I hate to ask this of you, and say no if at any point in my asking you are uncomfortable or find me uncouth, but-" He hesitates. "I am very tired, and am currently dealing with some rather serious pain in my legs. Past wounds, you know. Would you be offended if I asked for your assistance in bathing?" You blush a little, but a part of you knows he won't try anything. You have noticed he seems to be limping a little more than usual, his mobility decreasing. Plus, you can tell he's only asking because he must, as the look of utter shame on his face suggests this is the last thing he wished to ask of you. "Of course, sir." His breath hitches, but he nods. As he begins to remove his more civilian garb, as he did not wear his uniform on this day, you try to avert your gaze. Still, you catch a glimpse of his pronounced muscles, littered with the occasional scar or blemish. You swallow heavily.

He slides down into the tub, his tensed muscles visibly relaxing as he lets out a groan. "Hmm..." He glances at you. "It's okay to look now, my dear. Sorry to have upset you." You shake your head, as if to assure him that you aren't bothered. He looks at you softly as you go to grab a sponge, a small part of him disappointed that you won't be using your bare hands to lather soap onto him. He shakes this thought off quickly. 'Shame on you!' He scolds himself 'Thinking such thoughts about your sweet servant girl. God, I'm acting like a recruit visiting his first whorehouse'. He is disappointed in himself, but tries to rationalize it by being innocent. Perhaps he just wanted to feel your hands on him, for comfort, for something different. One of the things he likes most about you is your hands. He noticed them when you first were sent to his mansion, much more timid then. You shook his hand, and his large, calloused and veiny hands, rough from years of labor and fighting, practically trembled at the feeling of your soft ones. As he grew to know you better, he would watch as you worked, your delicate hands dusting a vase or folding a sheet. He quickly decided any hard labor around his home be delegated to cadets and privates, when they would make the occasional visit, and sometimes as a disciplinary action. He wanted to keep your hands like you, soft and warm.

"Sir?" Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "Uh- Yes?" He stammers, readjusting his glasses (which oddly enough he always kept on for bath time.). "I was wondering... if I may take a bath sometime soon?" You ask timidly, causing him to frown. "Have you not been able to take one?" He asks. He doesn't remember ever giving such a command, and he would never deny your basic needs. "Well, one of the privates told me that the recruits shower schedule is twice a week, and that I should probably adhere to that at your house." You explain. Fritz grimaces. Of course some recruit would find it funny to torment the General's beloved servant. The soldiers where allowed two showers a week, but you were no soldier. You were a servant. His Servant. His.

"No, my dear, you may bathe whenever you see fit, that rule only applies to my soldiers of low rank. I imagine that young recruit may have been trying to have a laugh at your expense." He huffs. "Please, if you ever see him at the estate again, alert me to him, alright?" You nod, a little put off. You've never seen Fritz truly mad at one of his soldiers, he doesn't even get grumpy often, but now... he's scowling, as if that cadet had come right up to him, spit on his boots, and insulted his mother.

His eyes suddenly flash with a different emotion, as a thought crosses his mind. He bites his lips, trying to keep away the thought, but it's too tempting. "Perhaps..." His hand grips the porcelain edge of the tub. "Perhaps it would be easier for you to bathe me properly, if you were closer." He mumbles, avoiding eye contact. You tilt your head. "What do you mean, sir?" You ask naively. "Well, I just think, you could get a better position to clean me if you were to join me, i-in this bath, I mean." You blush wildly, and he begins to stammer, coming up with reasons it's a good idea. "For one, it would help you to apply the pain balm to my leg, and-" He's out of breath. "And taking a bath now, together, would ensure you are free later if I should need you." He risks a glance up at your face, feeling his turn red to match your own. You swallow. "I... I suppose that would be okay, sir." You mumble. You can't imagine he would hurt you, or try to take advantage of you. If that were the case, you imagine he would have had his way with you already. Besides, you can't deny how you failed to avoid looking at him when his disrobed before his bath. "Just, look away while I undress, please." You say, beginning to undo the corset of your servants attire. "Of course, anything to protect a ladies modesty." He says, quickly using his free hand to shield his eyes.

You slip into the bath water, and he looks up as he hears the water splash upon your entrance. You both remain silent, and you bathe him gently. He holds back sighs of pleasure, as you have forgone the sponge, and now use your bare hands as he had dreamed of moments ago. "Sir?" you break the silence. He lets out a "Hmm?" In response, eyes still closed in satisfaction. "May I ask, why do you never let me go into town? I wish to see my family, and the bakery." You ask. He seems to tense a little, the veins in his arm more prominent. "Because I simply don't have the time to venture there with you right now." He explains. "Yes, but I grew up there! I'm fine to go by my own." You say, a little annoyed he seems to think you're some helpless maid. He lets out a long exhale, before sitting up a little. Even like this in the bath, he towers over you. "It's not you I'm worried about, little one. I'm sure in town, before me and my men arrived, you could hold your own. But you couldn't against my soldiers, and-" He hesitates to tell you this, a part of him not wanting to scare you. "I don't trust half of them around a sweet thing like you." He sighs. You furrow your brows, your face upset. "You mean, like?" You can't bring yourself to say it. He nods. "I prevent it in every way I can, for all women. I do not allow it, but I cannot be everywhere, and the leaders above me do not permit me to dismiss a single man for a transgression like that. We need all the men you can get for the war." He makes a bold move, to cup your cheek. "But, rest assured, I won't let a single one of them lay hands on you. I just fear something could happen outside of my estate, that I could not control." You gulp at the notion, and nod. He sees the sorrow on your face, and strokes your cheek once more. "I will try to take a small holiday, a day or two perhaps, and I will take you to see them, alright?" He feels his heart speed up when he sees the light return to your eyes.

"Oh! Thank you, sir!" You look as if you could cry. He smiles and nods. "I, I must confess, I hope to go sooner rather than alter, I had wished to speak to your father." He says. "About what?" You feel a little fear knaw at you, and you gasp. "Wait, sir, no! He's much to old to fight, and-" Fritz cuts you off with both hands on your shoulder. "No, my dear, no. I'm not going to draft your poor father, do not worry. I would not want to do anything that would worry you so much." He coos, then avoids eye contact again. "I had wished to speak to him. The last time we spoke, we made a deal that you were to work for me as a servant girl, but..." You nod for him to continue. "I have found that house chores and labor do not suit you." You frown at his words. Had you not been doing a good enough job. "I'm sorry, sir, if I've not been performing well, please don't fire me. My family needs the money." He seems shocked once again, and laughs awkwardly. "God, I do seem to be bad at saying what I mean, don't I?" He shakes his head. "I mean that I think such things are below you. I... I should like to take you as my bride, if you and he should permit it." Your eyes widen. You hadn't expected that. What would he have you do as his bride? He senses your nervousness, and continues. "I assure you, it can have as much or as little intimacy as you wish. You needn't even act as a proper wife to me, I just-" He seems to be struggling to explain. "I just want you to be safe, and comfortable, a-as you have made me feel since you began to serve me." You feel your heart flutter at his words. "Since you arrived, you've been so sweet. Doting on me, caring for me, helping me with the daily crosswords." You laugh a little, and he smiles. "I want nothing more than to ensure that I get to enjoy that everday, and more importantly," a slightly darker tone ebbs its way into his voice. "I want to ensure that no other man does." You're a bit put off by the shift, but only nod.

"I should like to, sir." His head snaps up, his mouth hanging open slightly. "I'll admit, I always wanted to live in a fancy house like this, and the company isn't half bad either." You admit, shyly looking up at him. He is elated, his form almost trembling. "Do you mean it? Truly? You wish to accept my proposal?" He gasps. You nod. He lunges forward to hug you, causing the water to surge forward, but stops just short of you, remembering your nude form rests below the soapy water, as does his. "Ah, um." He coughs awkwardly. "I must ask, if we are to marry, and you do enjoy my company, would you be okay with the typically romantic things? I know people usually court first, but seeing as we've spent all this time together already." He says. You think. "Like kissing, and holding each other?" You ask. "Yes, like that sort of thing." He affirms. You nod. "I'm fine with trying it, but I need to tell you something." He nods for you to go on.

"I'm sure you know, we are a little reserved and conservative in our town. As a traveling man, and a general, I'm sure you have had your share of, um, intimate encounters. I was always told to wait, however, and I may not be what you are used to." You look at the water, trying to fight the insecurity gnawing at your heart. He only shakes his head quickly. "No, no, my darling girl! How could you ever be anything but perfect to me?" He asks, caressing your shoulder blade with his thumb. "I would be honored, if you would have me, to teach you about the more, intimate affairs of marriage and courting." He says. "I must admit, I'm afraid that I wouldn't be enough to satisfy you as a man, or a husband." He confesses. You gasp, and cup his face. "Why, sir?" You implore him to confide in you. "My dear, you are a mere twenty-three years of age, and I am forty-two. I'm practically twice your age. Besides being an old man, you had to help me with this blasted leg into the tub. I'm practically a cripple..." His insecurities begin to flow out as he confesses. You gently tuck your head against his shoulder. "No, sir. You are enough for me. You are a general, and a kind man. You have always treated me with respect. If I didn't think you were enough, I wouldn't have said yes to marrying you, would I?" He nods reluctantly. "No, you wouldn't have. You've always been a smart girl." He admits. "I'm willing to learn, as long as you show me, sir." You whisper.

He blushes, but takes this as a sign. "Well, seeing as we are due to wed, I don't see the harm in teaching you a few things now..." He says, pushing forward a little so your smaller frame is up against the slanted back wall of the tub. "Are you alright with this, you may tell me at any time if you want to stop." He says. You nod. "Words, my dear, please. I want to hear that you understand." He pushes. "I understand, sir." You say. He shakes his head as he plans a kiss on your forehead. "Call me Fritz, my little bride." He coos. "And since you are to be my bride, I hope you won't mind showing me what's been hiding under that uniform I gave you?" He asks. You blush, but slide a little further up the tub, parting your thighs just a touch, so he can see the bush of hair between them. "I haven't shaved, sorry." You say, a little embarrassed. He only chuckles, and shakes his head. "My dear, I've gone months without a shower, and shared a restroom and barrack with 27 other men. A little hair won't scare me off." He looks longingly. "Besides, it's what's under it I'm interested in." His hand suddenly comes to your inner thigh, the sensitive touch making you gasp. You've never been touched up there, much less by a man so strong. One of his large, calloused fingers comes to part your lips, exposing to your future husband your dripping, virgin holes. He lets out a wanton sigh at the sight.

"So beautiful, and untouched?" He asks. You gulp, and nod. "It is my honor to be the first and last man to pleasure your sweet little sex." He says. He traces that finger up and down you're folds, making sure you are properly teased, and getting a feel for you. "So wet, and not just from the bathwater, it seems." He whispers. "Is this how you planned to lose your purity? To a man twice your age, and an invading military officer, no less?" You blush in shame. "I didn't think of the specifics, just... just wanted you to have it, sir..." You whine. His grins grows, and he lets out a groan as he latches his lips to your neck. He licks and kisses up and down your neck, until he finds a spot that makes you let out a beautiful whine, causing him to nip at it. "Do you think your father would be less likely to accept my proposal if he noticed you covered in marks of love from me?" Fritz asks, and you only giggle a little. He finger wanders up to touch the pearl of your sex, making you gasp. "Oh, Fritz... what are you doing?" You ask. "Just finding your pearl, my dear. I want you to cum at least once before I take your virginity. I want to please you, my darling girl." He kisses your cheek, before he presses another finger against your pearl. He rubs in soft, slow circles, trying a few different angles before he finds one that pleases you, which he discerns from the moans you let out. "Fritz, mm-" You moan. You can feel a slow heat spreading, as something in you builds. "Please, a little faster?" You ask. He tuts, and looks at you. "Can't you be patient?" He teases. "No, wanna finish..." You mumble. "Want you in me, I-I wanna be your little wife." He almost chokes at your pleas, the words going straight to his cock. He didn't think you could arouse him even further, but you always did exceed his expectations. He quickens the pace, and you can feel your orgasm approaching. "Yes, Fritz, Yes. Please, make me cum." You beg. "You want to cum, cum so I'll put my manhood into you? Want me to make you a proper little wife for me?" He edges you, and as you nod and agree profusely, you feel that wave wash over you. Your pussy convulses around nothing, as you let out a whine that sounds like music to him. This beats his visits to the royal opera a hundred times over.

As you pant, coming down from your high, Fritz holds you in your place, rising a little out of the water himself. You blush, as his erect manhood becomes visible. He's well groomed, and while the tip isn't pronounced, there's a curve to it that makes your mouth water. "Well, do I seem up to your standards, my love?" He asks. "More than that, Fritz. You're so pretty..." While it seems like nothing to you, these words strike him hard. He's never been called pretty before, and hearing it from your soft lips wipes the lewd grin off his face, replacing it with momentary shock. He pulls himself to you, his chapped lips colliding with your soft ones. You squeak, but melt into it. He tastes like earl grey tea and the occasional cigars he would smoke, but only when stressed. You both gasp as he pulls away, needing air. He places many small kisses on your face, making you smile as you look up at him. "My sweet, sweet girl. Always so kind to this old man..." He murmurs. As he does, he rolls his hips forward a little, allowing the underside of his manhood to rub against the length of your sex. "I'm going to be gentle, alright? It might hurt a little, especially with me being quite a bit larger than you. But I promise to take it at your pace, alright?" He asks, his hands resting gently on your waist. You nod, and feel his hard tip prod a few times at your aroused pearl, before moving down to line up with your entrance. He warns you a little, before gently pushing the tip in. You wince, and he continues to soothingly rub your waist with his thumbs. He moves himself out, then rolls his hips back in, a little deeper with each thrust. It hurts, but the relaxing warm water helps, and it's not as bad as you thought it would be. "Feels okay, darling?" He asks. "Yes..." You respond, focusing on the feeling of him inside you. As he continues, the pain subsides, and he begins to quicken the pace when he tells you this.

"God, Fritz. You're big, s-so big..." You moan, his hips causing your ass to bounce back and forth off the wall of the tub. "I' feel 'mazing." He huffs. "So tight, and warm. My girl, letting me take you like this, getting you ready for our wedding night." He feels himself harden even further at the thought. "Y'know, I think it'd be a shame not to share how sweet you are, how caring." He says, his hips now pounding at your cervix. "W-what?" You ask. He had made it clear earlier he didn't want to share, so despite the pleasure you are confused. "Saying you'll make a good wife, but I think you'd make a better mother." He moans. You gasp at the thought. "All swollen with my baby, my child. Letting me care for you for once, instead of helping me walk cause of my leg, I'd get to help you around..." He thrusts grow more erratic at the idea, and you feel yourself about to climax once more. "Let me, my love, please. Let me fill you with my seed, my children. Let your fiance make you a mommy..." He begs. Just as you shout an agreement, you feel yourself convulse around him, causing his breath to hitch. He groans. "God, gonna finish to now, going to give you my babies..." He shouts. You feel a warmth flood you, as he sprays hot, white ropes of cum into your womb. You both pant, taking quite some time to recover.

Being the strong man he is, he bounces back quite quickly, while you are so tired you can barely move. "I'm sorry, my love." He coos. "Perhaps I was a bit rough for your first time..." You shake your head. "Mmm, no. I-I felt good, just, I'm just tired." You yawn. He chuckles. He cleans himself, and you, before draining the tub. He grabs both of your clothes as he carries you past your servants quarters, and into his room. Helping you to redress in your undergarments, he lays you down. You sigh as your body melts into the luxury sheets. He sits beside you, gently stroking your face. "Get some rest, my little bride." He whispers, before departing back to his office. He heads to the front door, and picks up a letter dropped off from the courier. Inside the envelope is your father's response, from a proposal sent several days ago by Fritz. Once again, though this was his third and final time asking, your father once again denied your hand in marriage to Fritz, saying he would never marry his precious girl to an invader. Fritz grimaces, as he had not wanted it to come to this. Sighing, he writes two more letters in response. One to your father, stating his intent to take your hand either way, and another to his second-in-command, ordering a man to be jailed for treason and defying military orders. The first letter reads as follows.

Dear sir,

As you are well aware, this is the third time you have rejected to allow me to take your daughters hand in marriage. While i understand your hesitation, I do what I do only to provide her a safe, comfortable life, which I do not believe you could have provided her, in your town which my men overtook in merely three hours. I could not imagine if a man worse than I had set his sights on her instead. Rest assured, that in light of your soon-to-be imprisonment, I will care for her. She has developed a reciprocation of my feelings, and despite your refusal to wed her to me, as I write this she lays in my bed, beginning to bear my child. I wish that you had been understanding, and done what was best for your daughter. Now, she will marry happily, but have no father, and the blame lies only on you.

-Fritz, General of the Northern King's forces.

[daylite-writes]

A Healer’s Blunt Teeth - Yan!Capitano x Healer!Reader

(Pt 2 here)

In your homeland, the nation of war, healers are highly valued, highly sought after. This, however, does not grant them autonomy. Traded, won, and bought. That has been your life thus far. Now though, you’ve fallen into the possession of a man you know will never lose a battle.

cw: societal-typical captivity, Yandere-esc behavior, background death, non consensual touching/kissing, sharing a bed (romantic, but not sexual), consensual relationship, brief use of the word ‘master’ until Capitano shuts that down, time skip.

2.8k words

~~~

The sun was relentless, on the battlefield. Glaring down from the horizon, it was blindingly bright. It’s heat was so palpable it warped the rocky terrain around you. Your face, back, legs, all were drenched in sweat. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst part was the smell of the fallen bandits cooking under it.

You choked back a sob as another waft of the scent passed you. Rotting, seared. The battle was over, but didn’t dare to move from the spot behind a jagged rock you’d taken. Quietly, you cursed to yourself, “stupid, fucking—stupid. Gods, archons, fucking, idiotic—”

Idiotic team leader, idiotic fucking team. The scouts were supposed to make sure backup wasn’t within range, the talkers were supposed to intimidate them into to fork over their supplies, and the front liners were supposed to not fucking die should a altercation begin.

Apparently none of them did their job, because the moment swords were drawn, one of them sent a signal to a larger group of Fatui a ways back—the moment their backup arrived marked the start of the bloodshed.

They cut through your group with far too much ease. Trained. You didn’t dare peek out from your hiding place, but you listened to the ‘shirk, shirk, shirk’ as each bandit was double-tapped.

You bit your bottom lip hard, hard enough to draw blood, as footstepped creeped closer.

As a healer, you’d never been afraid of defeat. Even ones that had the entirety of the group you were with dead. But those defeats came at the hands of other Natlan people. Those were people who would spare the healer, finding better uses for you than death. The Fatui? No such promise. Surely they had their own, and in turn, you held no use.

The air was tense, silent, except for your stifled breathing and the click of the rifle as you struggled to load it. You swore internally, fumbling with the damned thing, before you heard a click.

You froze. The click was not from your gun.

“Drop it.” The Fatuus barked. You did so, weapon clattering on the ground, raising your hands in surrender, you kept your head dipped low. Unsteady breaths spilled from your lips.

“Please.” You begged, you weren’t a threat, you prayed they knew that.

One grabbed you, roughly, forcing you to stumble along as you were dragged into the blood smeared slaughter grounds. The sun, glaring in your eyes, made it hard to see. Eventually, the Fatuus shoved you, making you fall to yours knees—which sunk a little into the blood soaked mud under me.

The Fatuus said something, which you didn’t hear between your heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat pounding in your ears. It wasn’t for you—too formal and professional. You lifted your head—

The largest man you’d ever seen. Well, probably a man. Towering, with a helmet that looked like a shark’s metal maw shrouding his face in darkness. The blood pounding in your ears intensified. He was looking at you—he was looking at you—

You dropped your head down immediately, terrified of the man you’d been tossed before. Their leader, undoubtedly. It was a short lived reprice from his fearsome figure, as he soon grabbed your chin, dragging you to your feet and forcing your eyes to meet his void—

“You aren’t a bandit. You’re too scrawny, not toned, and you can’t load a rifle. You are for some sort of utility.” He tilted his head to look down over your body, before his eyes locked onto yours again. “Am I correct?”

“Y-yes—yes sir.” Your chest shook with every heavy breath. “I-I’m their healer.”

“Hm.” He said simply. The hand clasped around your throat and jaw twisted slightly, moving your head and body as he pleased. You let slip a sharp whimper, but didn’t dare say a word. He looked over you, appraising you like one would a horse or a fine good. Trying to determine your value.

“In the Natlan wilds, healers are usually bought, traded around between groups.” He lifted your head a little higher exposing your neck. What was he looking for? “Or taken, when a group died to another. Just one thing from which a victor is entitled to take. Hm. I wonder where you’ve been, healer.”

Too many places. From the moment you showed an innate ability for healing. Traded, won, bought off, defected to. Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you as you met his eyes.

His mask hid all but the slightest trace of blue eyes and a sharp, but you swore you could see the glint of sharp teeth as he dropped out, letting you collapse onto your knees in the dirt.

He turned to his soldiers, with a booming voice yelled; “Kill any left alive, take all supplies of theirs you find.”

Then, he turned back to you, voice quieter, but pleased. You hadn’t moved an inch from where he dropped you.

“What do you think of the cold?”

~~~

Capitano was your new boss. Not the Fatui—Capitano specifically.

You stayed in his tent during the day, and slept in the corner at night. It wasn’t like you were told to sit there, but you’d rather not risk punishment for asking for a bed. You weren’t sure how cruel the Fatui were, how cruel he was.

Besides, it was familiar. Sleeping at the foot of your latest warlord. A decoration when you were not working. Like a fancy vase, or an exotic fur blanket.

He came back to the tent one night, the troops reeling from a small battle. You didn’t know what against, only that he took a seat on the side of his bed, undoing his armor, and turning to you, silently beckoning. You approached, sitting beside him on the bed, beginning to heal his wounds.

You wondered how many had seen under the armor. He was strong, toned, and monstrous. Scars etched out of his back held veiny black scars that had to be from the void, his teeth, at times, seemed shinier than his blades and twice as sharp. His eyes…

Oh his eyes.

There was nothing wrong with them. Not visually, but…

You shuddered as you felt them on you again, your muscles threatening to lock up. Heal, right, you needed to heal him. Don’t disobey, don’t refuse, don’t show fear.

“Calm down.” He commanded, and you suddenly realized how your limbs were shaking.

“Apologies, master.” You took a small breath, forcing your hands to move steadier across his ribs. A gash, probably from some rifthounds. They’d been hunting the abyss deeper into the mountains.

“Hm.” He said simply.

He never showed any pain as you fixed him, despite healing—against most people’s assumptions—being no pleasurable experience. You wondered if he even staggered when the beast cut through flesh. You wondered how many he killed before one landed the lucky shot.

Scars faded, having curled up into themselves until they dissapeared, you pulled your hands back. You were on his bed, on your knees as he sat on the edge, legs planted on the floor. You were practically under his arm, in order to gain access to his ribs, but you didn’t move away, and wouldn’t. Not until he dissmissed you.

“Done?” He asked, voice even. Gods, did he even feel any of it?

“Yes, master.”

“Good.” He inclined his head slightly. A thanks. You, nervously, lips parted slightly, looked up to him, taking a second to glance at his maskless face. Was… was he going to dismiss you, or?

He met your gaze, and this time you could not stop your limbs from locking up. You felt like a rabbit, with the eyes of a wolf locked onto you.

He lifted a hand, his fingertips abyssal, dipped in black ink. Gently, he cupped your cheek. The little gasp you gave was one of fear, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Once again, he considered you, tilting and moving your head as he liked. “You’ve done well.”

If you could speak, you’d thank him. Call him master as the others you’ve served prefer, maybe bow your head. But no. Something in you, needed desperately, to remain very, very, still.

“You’ve served me well, for weeks, now. Not a whisper of what I look like among my men, not a peep of disobeyal from you. You haven’t so much as asked for a bed. I must wonder what has happened for you to be so… tamed.”

You said nothing.

“I think I could take you to the most beautiful place in Teyvat, and you wouldn’t dare ask to step outside my tent, instead awaiting my own permission. Hm.”

He tilted you head to the side, exposing your neck. This time, you began to shake. You’ve seen his teeth at times, they could tear your head free from your body—

“Captain?” You pleaded.

“Shhh. I’m not hurting you.” He whispered, you felt it more than you heard it, his hot breath across your skin. “Remain good and you can sleep in my bed tonight.”

He… kissed you. Your brain almost short circuited when his lips dipped down to your neck. It was gentle, even when sharp canines nicked your skin.

Slowly, your body relaxed, and he pulled you closer, he kissed your neck, like a lover. A reverent one. Before you knew it, you were sitting on his thigh, whimpering as he placed a hickey high on your neck, one not able to be hidden. Between your beating heart and his… affection, he stopped for mere moments, not to breath or take respite, but instead to murmur soft nothings, “good,” “thank you,” “my healer,”, before he planted another kiss somewhere new.

His attention continued on for far too long, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself, or where this was going.

“Master…” you said, panting, it took everything in you to not bury your head in his shoulder and bite your lip. You felt deeply embarrassed. This wasn’t the first time a member of the people you’d been claimed by paid… special attention to you. But it was

“Captain. You will call me captain.”

“Captain.” You forced out, softly. “Can…”

He waited, not kissing your skin as you figured out how to work your tongue. It would better, right? To be with him than against. A healer alone is doomed. You thought for a moment, before quietly speaking.

“Can I kiss you too?”

“Yes.” He growled out, far too fast. A little aggressive, but, okay—you lowered your head, planting your own kiss on his neck, as gently as you could.

He groaned a bit, the vibrations of it tangible against your lips. “Bite down.”

For a moment, your brain short circuited. What?

“Bite.”

Well then. Slowly, nervously, you sank your teeth into his skin.

His hand cupped the back of your head—archons you swore there were claws on them—and pressed your head a bit further down, forcing you to bite down harder.

The sound that forced its way from his throat was guttural, not quite a growl, but deeply animalistic and satisfied.

“Good… healer. Good.” He huffed out. The hand left the back of your head, and you took that as permission to release the crux of his neck from your teeth.

You couldn’t help but be shocked at the sight you left. A perfect set of teeth marks against his neck, little beads of blood dotting it. If you hadn’t seen it yourself a few times, you wouldn’t be sure he could bleed. At least, bleed red. He held himself like a god among men, and his soldiers seemed to put him on a similar pedistool.

Your mind circled back to his previous praise. Good. You did well, he was happy with you. You wondered if you would be allowed to sleep in his bed tonight. You wondered if he’d let you refuse.

Realizing he’d been silent for a time, you glanced at him, cold, icy eyes glittering behind lax eyelids. He was watching you.

Your chest was heaving despite the little effort it took, but his breathing was strangely calm, rhythmic.

You felt a hand run through your hair, you closed your eyes and bit your lip.

“It’s late. Sleep in my bed, should you like.” He said simply, and you opened your eyes. His hand was still in your hair, and you’d never felt so calm in his presence.

“Alright.” You spoke, the sound barely a breath.

You slept in his bed that night, his arm around your midsection. You felt like the woman in a painting with a name you forgot. She lounged within a lion's den, resting her head against one’s chest, sleeping beside an apex predator.

~~~

Capitano’s time in Natlan was coming to a close. And in turn, yours was as well.

You laid lazily on the strategy table, your head and chest slumped forward into your arms. Under you, a map of Teyvat, with various pins and marks. The path home. Capitano had been pouring over it even after his generals left, marking it every once in a while, or muttering to himself. You’d been waiting for him to finish for hours now.

For all his animalisticicity, his libido was strangely low. Even after months of his physical attention—kisses, bites, sharing a bed—it took you initiating for him to grant you anything. You were happy for this, you supposed. But it did make him difficult to manipulate, unlike many other men who’d oblige after you puffed out your cleavage and bit your lip.

So, you had to resort to other methods.

“Captain… I’m tired.”

“Sleep then. I’ll carry you back when I finish.” He didn’t look at you.

“At the table? Darling…”

“You were the one that wanted to come to this meeting.”

“Yes, the meeting. Not the… what is this? Were the plans your generals made not sufficient?”

“I’m merely going over them again.”

“Alright.” You weren’t getting what you wanted. Not yet. “Perhaps I should walk back to the tent.”

His body shifted slightly, an action that on him, was like the moving of glaciers, heavy and lumbering. “You stay by me.”

It was a reminder, a weighty one. You did not have to be his lover, but you were his healer, taken by right of combat. The only right that mattered in Natlan. He held dominion over you either way.

You did not have to be his lover, but god was life easier that way.

“Sorry.” You sunk back into your arms, feigning just enough sadness and remorse to make him uncomfortable, even if he was visibly still as a mountain.

“You know you are not allowed to move through the camp alone.”

“I do. I just forgot, the last few chieftains I served didn’t bother overseeing my location or sleeping arrangements.” You lied. They did. Very closely in fact. You were a goddamn healer by blood, very expensive in the country of war. You slept at their feet or in their beds, sometimes in chains. But such facts did not serve you in that moment. “This… supervision is new to me.”

He sighed, setting down his quill. “I suppose this is done. We can return to the tent.” He moved around the table, coming up behind your chair before sweeping you into his arms. Hook. Line. Sinker.

“My legs function, Capitano. I assure you.”

“They did not seem to this morning.”

“I’m a healer, I can deal with some strained muscles.” You bantered back.

“Oh, so me bringing you breakfast was simply a ploy of yours?”

“Of course it was, surely you realized.” You grinned into his shoulder, taunting. “And healing takes time, imagine what the soldiers would say seeing me struggle to walk, coming out from your tent?”

“Hm.”

“Anyways, I said I could walk.”

“I wonder, do you ever accept the fact you may not get what you want? Or must you claw at me until I indulge you?”

“With walking?” You grinned, finding a stance you could sink your teeth into. “Are you afraid I may run?”

“Do you think you could escape?” Capitano met your question with one of his own.

You hummed, eyes closed with a soft smile, not bothering to indulge him until he answered you first.

Your eyes shot open as the warm metal of his gauntlet tilted your head up by the chin. He looked over your neck, scarred with the symbols of his love, and gave a content, “Hm. No.”

You rolled your eyes, a little insulted. “I could escape if I liked.”

“Of course, my healer.”

You pouted as he let go of you, your face falling down into his shoulder again.

“Fear not though, my healer.” His voice had a rasping, growling edge to it, making your body shiver in the Natlan heat. “There will never be anything to run from.”

~~~~~

Just a little thing! Hope y’all liked it <3

[ataraxiaspainting]

Glide.

Yan Chrollo x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Touching the sky yourself is impossible, but having others do so is attainable. That is, as long as your captor does not find out.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation, some dehumanization, and descriptions of violence/death.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

Whenever Chrollo leaves, he makes sure the balcony door is unlocked.

The platform is nothing special compared to the last one – or the past few hundred of them. It still overlooks a town square just like the rest of them, albeit the square in question has much fewer people out and about down there.

There are only three kinds of people you see nowadays. Those like Chrollo who always yearn for something more, those like the room service that just want to pay their rent this month… and… and you.

But you have hoped, prayed, that there are greater types of people than that more times than you can count. Those like your family, who you dream are still looking for you after all this time – after the fire, after the forensic identification, after the funeral. Those like people who catch the paper airplanes you throw out past the balcony’s fencing, reading your notes with expressions clear as day – you can see them even from up here in this gilded jail.

It’s a shame. A crying shame. Instead of sharing what you have written with him, you give them to nameless strangers who would most likely never give the messy, scribbled letters and numbers time of day. Chrollo considers asking Shalnark or Feitan to hunt them all down, but his rationality stops him halfway because that would cause this whole city to become a ghost town. 

It would be an easy feat for him alone. Hundreds of thousands have already fallen because of his notions; what is a few hundred more? If he partnered with a fellow Troupe member, he does not doubt in his mind that all the letters would be collected within the hour.

But… then again…

It’s a waste of energy, Chrollo decides. I’ll just go to the source.

He twists the key into the hotel room’s lock, opens the door, and looks around as he shuts it back up. The time is 11:00 sharp – far earlier than the usual time he comes back after scouting this town one too many times for every piece of loot he can get his bloodied hands on. There are some nice original copies of books in the museum a few blocks away, a set of necklaces that are said to belong to a long-dead princess of an empire with diamonds as large as the palm of his hand in the jeweler across the street, fur coats made out of near-extinct wildcats that were sold by the zoos who claimed to protect them from such threats… and many more things. It’s shocking, in a way. This place’s population is so small, after all.

Chrollo wants to give them all to you if you would let him.

The hallway that leads to the bathroom, bedroom, and balcony is flooded with crumpled-up paper of varying shapes and sizes. He can even see the expensive embroidered paper he had given you days ago amongst the messes – he knew of your hobby then, he always knew, and that’s why he left the balcony door unlocked for you day and night.

He saw it more as enrichment than anything, just another little something to keep you occupied when you weren’t allowed to come with him. For some, the activities are chewing on bones and digging their claws into couches. For you, it is writing notes so bizarre no one would believe them.

To each their own, Chrollo thinks as he smiles. He’s careful not to make noise as he approaches the balcony slowly.

“No ‘welcome back’?”

The balcony’s door was already open when he saw the disarray all over the hallway’s floor. There you were, huddled in the seating area with your arm frozen in the air. In your hand is a paper airplane that was just about to launch into the sky.

You turn your head as slow as humanly possible with your eyes closed. You’re most likely praying to whatever cosmic force there is that you were hearing things, hearing the people from below, or maybe a gust of wind that sounded too human-like. But once again, the heavens refuse to listen to your desperate prayers. They gladly cast you back down to hell to keep the devil himself at bay. A necessary evil.

Your wings were cut off long ago, after all.

Why would God let you back in?

“Dearest.”

Your arm lowers, and with it your hopes and dreams.

“Oh…”

Oh indeed.

You’re… crying.

“Come here. Let me wipe your tears away.” Chrollo moves faster than you can blink, positioning himself on the chair next to you.

You scramble, standing up as you slap his hand from your cheek. 

“Don’t, I-”

“Shh…”

He points at the cushion – clearly sat on for hours considering how deep the middle’s crevice is.

You sit back down.

[cerastes]

Something I’ve been thinking thanks to Babel is that you could make a banging game about the Babel period up until the end of the Reunion Arc in the style of Nobunaga’s Ambition, specifically more in the style of Ghiren’s Ambition, the Gundam spin-off.

Besides the obvious Grand Strategy element of managing your greater territory through a mix of generic squadrons and hero squadrons — Babel having Scout, Ascalon, Ace, and the other Elites, while the Military Commission has Ulsulah, Manfred, Scareye, and other such individuals — and the protection and seizing of supply lines and settlements, it’d also open the possibility for one of the signature features of the games: Alternate histories.

In Ghiren’s Ambition, you can try and replicate the canon events of the story perfectly, but you can also heavily derail the established canon for incredibly interesting alternate takes and outcomes. For example, in our hypothetical Theresis’s Ambition, assuming the scope is from the beginnings of Babel right up until the end of the Reunion Arc, we could explore possibilities such as:

The Sarkaz Royal Courts being spurred into action for either side. This instability, in turn, could spur foreign powers into action and taking a vested interest and side in the civil war, greatly expanding its scope.

The Leithanien invasion of Kazdel being a lot more successful, resulting in a far, far more unified Babel and Military Commission. This may in turn result in a far earlier, unified invasion of Victoria, or a far more emotionally charged civil war once the siblings’ differences become irreconcilable.

Amiya’s condition being a lot more stable, leading to Doctor, Amiya and Savage to actually push through with their plans to venture into Yan next. This could happen through either a lot of earlier medical advances, or by outright preventing the accident that gave Amiya oripathy in the first place, this obviously having major implications in the rest of the story.

Theresis early killing Doc when he has the chance. Likewise, lots of implications here.

Doctor not going through with their betrayal and keeping the Shipwide Defense Systems operational. This would have immense implications in the future of Kazdel as well. Furthermore, this could lead into an early Theresis kill.

Rhodes Island failing the operation to retrieve Doctor, and instead, they fall into Reunion hands. As they are a clean slate here, this could very well mean a Reunion-aligned Doctor.

Ursus seizing the Doctor, thus resulting in an Ursus-aligned Doctor. Probably one of the most nightmarish scenarios. Possibly as a result of Kal’tsit successfully pushing back against the notion to retrieve them from Chernobog in the first place.

Ch’en’s leaving Rhodes Island to dry in the Lungmen operation actually costing them that entire battle and Operator lives, subsequently breaking relations between the two factions.

The Chernobog operation in general having a different outcome depending on the level of preparedness and development you come into it with, such as an early Faust kill (Ascalon comes along and hard counters him, maybe?), the possibility to have Ace and Scout survive, the possibility of other R.I. Operators dying instead, the possibility of Reunion personnel/mercenaries dying or going a different route altogether (Ines legitimately dies, W caught early and thus needing to go back to R.I early).

FrostNova’s fateful death being averted, and successfully recruiting her into Rhodes Island.

Reunion!Doctor somehow resulting in events that successfully removes Kaschey from Talulah very early, wildly changing the direction Reunion takes and averting Mudrock and Big Bob’s defection as a consequence; this directly opens a route where Reunion and Rhodes Island can become allies, but it’d also be very difficult as these two reasonably sized powers joining forces might spur Lungmen/Yan or Ursus into deploying against them with absolute force.

The possibilities are so ample, I’d love this game.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #28

[Continuation of Poll #27]

"Some food sounds nice," you mumbled hesitantly, forcing a smile on your lips and looking towards the werewolf while placing your hand on your stomach. A glint of victory sparked in his eyes as he raised his snout highly, proud to be the chosen option.

"As I said," he announced with a huff, and you got up from your seat to follow him out of the door. This was the perfect opportunity! You'd scout the area, try to sneak away when he was busy hunting, and be rid of this fearsome duo! Even if a night in the woods had the potential to be scary, you doubted the werewolf would let harm befall you if anything else tried to attack you. It was definitely the right choice!

A finger hooked underneath your shirt collar, tugging you back into a cold, firm chest while one arm wrapped around you from behind, leisurely holding you in place. "Ah, ah," the vampire chimed. "Where do you think you're going?"

"H-Hunting?" you questioned, looking up at the vampire, who quirked an eyebrow.

"You? Our sweet, incapable human?"

"Let them," the werewolf barked, stomping back through the door. His claws splintered the wood as they gripped the frame, the cracking a fierce reminder of his strength.

"Are you that dense? As if you could take care of a human while you're focusing on hunting. They'll slip from you, and you'll spend the rest of the night searching for them. How dumb do you take them that they wouldn't try to sneak away? No, you're not taking them on your mindless hunt; go fetch them some food alone."

You shivered slightly as the usual light and chatty tone of the vampire's voice turned into a snarl, clearly not amused about the idea of letting you out of their sight. On the other hand, you looked up at the werewolf, giving him your best impression of "puppy eyes", knowing that this was your best chance of escape. It had to work!

When he looked at you, his eyes softened, bared teeth disappearing beneath fur. But just as quickly, he looked back at his natural enemy, a growl vibrating in his throat as he spoke. "So you want me to leave them here? With you? So you can drink them dry before I even have the chance to feed them?"

"I won't," the vampire replied, a surprising firmness in his answer. "I'd rather see where this-" they waved their hand back and forth between the three of you "-is going to lead. It's been more fun than most of my meals in the last century, and I have the time to savor it."

"How am I going to believe you?" the werewolf bit back, and the vampire let out a long sigh while you imagined them rolling their eyes at this.

"You'll just have to. You do want to provide for your little mate, right? Look, they're famished."

The vampire hooked one of his cold fingers beneath your chin, lifting it to show you off. There were no mirrors to check your appearance, but famished wasn't how you would have described yourself. Still—and it made your mouth open in protest—the werewolf growled before giving a short nod with his snout and relented reluctantly, "I'll be back. And if they are missing just one drop of blood, I'll tear you limb from limb, you bat."

Then he was gone, his footsteps the only thing echoing through the mansion for a short while before you heard a door bang closed. How could he have possibly believed the vampire's sweet deception? Why in the world would he leave you alone with the possibly more dangerous monster of the two?!

"What an ill-tempered fellow," the vampire sighed, unwrapping their arm from you and stepping away. You stood there for a few seconds more, seeing your hope slowly fade away into the darkness of the hallway, when the golden chalice from before suddenly came back into view. You jerked away in surprise, but the vampire held it patiently in front of you until you had regained your composure, taking it from them. The pitcher followed in just as quick of a movement, and the dark red juice you had been given before flowed from its neck into your chalice.

"I know you were thirsty. Drink up," they encouraged you softly, stepping away while looking truly unbothered by your presence. It was as if it was no longer relevant that you were below them on the food chain.

"Are you... Are you not going to kill me?"

Turning around, you watched as the vampire placed the needle of an old gramophone standing in the corner of the room onto a record, soft music filling the room.

"What?" they squawked, uncharacteristically human, as if appalled by the thought. "Didn't I just say I wouldn't? You should listen when you are in a room full of monsters."

Instead of coming right back up to you, they sat on the armchair next to the couch, breathing out heavily as if a weight had been lifted before their eyes fell back from the ceiling to you. "Come," they beckoned, patting the soft cushion next to them. "No need to be so alert."

Reluctantly, you swayed on your spot, feeling the red eyes drilling into you as you had to convince your body to move. When you finally did, you left some space between the vampire's reach and your seat, just to be sure, before nipping at your juice again, your body relieved by the drink.

"I was human once," the vampire mused, and you jumped, almost feeling bad for your reaction.

"It's not a pleasure to drink blood, and most of the time, it tastes as awful as what it sounds like." They sighed once more, and you got the feeling they were quite dramatic.

"But having company, bickering, learning new things—that is fun! That is what's interesting! So," they sat up straight again, crossing their legs before giving you a toothy grin, "Tell me about yourself!"

You gulped down the tart sweetness on your tongue, unprepared for the overwhelming interest you suddenly received. Quickly, you averted your eyes, fearing the vampire's hypnosis and all the uncomfortable things they could order you to speak about to get a good laugh. But after a few moments, you caught yourself, rattling down basic facts about your life, going from your family to your hobbies, and discovering some shared interests between you two as the vampire chimed in with their own.

"So... do you have any other hobbies?" you asked, wringing your hands as you tried to keep the conversation going and push it away from you. Even after talking for a while, you were still running on survival instinct, knowing that the longer you kept the vampire occupied, the more time the werewolf had to return. If running wasn't an option, keeping the two of them occupied with fighting each other was your next best bet.

"Hm," the vampire hummed. "I love dancing. It has become awfully lonely in recent times, but we used to hold balls and celebrations in this mansion and dance all night. Those memories keep me alive in the dark times; memories I wish to always relive and cherish for as long as I can remember them."

Their words reminded you of a movie you had seen recently: nobles waltzing to music through a grand hall. It brought a sad smile to your lips as you felt a hint of sympathy for the vampire who must have witnessed the rise and fall of such traditions and, even more, the people who made them special.

"Well," they tore you out of your thoughts. Their hand stretched out towards you, long fingers with pointed nails, well-cared for yet inhumanly cold. "Would you do me the honors?"

Refusal made your lips quiver, but their gaze was almost bashful as they looked up at you, expecting the rejection yet hopeful you'd agree. You glanced back at the door, not knowing when the werewolf would be back. Dancing would bring you in a very close, very dangerous reach of the vampire's fangs, but it would also keep them occupied. You had to stall more time and force them not to kill you, but you didn't want to be served on a silver platter either.

"Don't I stink too much?" you laughed nervously, pointing out their previous comment about you needing a bath.

"Oh, I don't mind your smell as much as that beast's. In fact, you have a pleasant scent lingering on you now that he's not marking you up and down."

They seemed sincere enough, hadn't made a move except for petting the space that kept you two apart, seemingly disappointed. The conversation had been pleasant, going on for a very long time. Even for the hobbies they didn't share with you, they questioned and listened intently, glancing at your lips ever so often as if they wished for more and more information. Quality time seemed to be their thing, so if they were honest, agreeing to dance would probably put you in good standing with them, while refusing might anger them.

But that was if they were truthful about not harming you, given the chance.

[invidiia]

❐ - yandere!dazai and yandere!chuuya comforting the reader on their period

notes ; headcanons for anyone else who on their period rn </3 the worst thing ever tbh.. this is kinda self indulgent

prompt ; dazai and chuuya's (separate) darling gets their period and they comfort them

warnings ; yandere themes, blood, kidnapped!reader, drugging, ada!dazai, soft!yan chuuya and dazai, mentions of sex but no actual doing it, mention of stalking, afab reader, toxic relationships

masterlist - rules - last post

dazai ::

it's not like you can hide your period from dazai, especially if he kidnapped you.

dazai doesn't know a ton about periods - sure, he knows that they existed, but he didn't think the situation through when he first kidnapped you. he didn't buy pads or anything in advance when he first decided to take you for himself, so when he woke up to see blood on the sheets under you, dazai was a tiny bit surprised.

but not entirely - he should have known the time of your month would roll around soon enough. dazai wasn't mad or upset at all.

"ah.. belladonna, why didn't you tell me about this? no, i'm not mad at you! i think this means no sex for.. how long?! i don't think i'll surviivee~!"

just ignore his wailing and you'll probably be fine

dazai's not actually upset, he really does wanna help you. he'll wrap you in a blanket while he goes to leave for the store, poking your cheek and smiling a little too softly while he tells you to be good while he's gone

he doesn't have bad intentions or anything, he's just being overly nice to you because he just feels like it

he comes back from the store with whatever you neeed, he probably asked a female member of the agency or a worker or someone else who knew what to get for you, because there is absolutely no way in hell he actually knows what to buy

but he definitely came back with a few things that you liked!! no point in asking how he knew you liked the stuff, because he'll just say he stalked you, and that might just make you more uncomfortable. best not to question him!!

he sees your cramp pain as an excuse to hold and touch you more. he doesn't care that you're bleeding the entire time, dazai just likes that he can hold you!

of course, he realizes that cuddles don't stop the cramping - he just thinks it'll help a lot more. dazai get's super touchy and clingy because he knows that you're less likely to resist. even if you do, he doesn't mind unless you insult him, because then he'll just lock you in the bathroom with water and some of the snacks he bought you to give you some 'alone time.' after about an hour or two, he's sure you'll come back into his arms!! <3

oh, belladonna, i thought you didn't want to cuddle, and now you're holding onto me..? no matter, i'm glad you've finally came around.. is there anything you want?

chuuya ::

chuuya also knows about periods and what they are, but he knows a little bit more about them than dazai, because he's just him yk?? he's that dude (other than jay from the kubz scouts)

when he first woke up to you next to him with blood under you, he thought you were hurt or something, but then when he woke you up, you had to explain to him that you just got your period and that you were fine.

by your argument, chuuya made a big deal out of it, but by chuuya's, he was just helping you feel better.

"darling, stop movin', i'm just trying to make you feel better.. what? yeah.. yeah, i'll get whatever you want, okay?"

if you yell at him, he'll just give you space. of course he'll still get you what you want, he'll just be.. less doting.

he'll even go as far to ignore you. so while you're wailing in pain from your cramps, chuuya's sitting down comfortably on the couch, reading and paying no attention to your little sobs from the pain of your cramps. it's really just a toxic thing - he doesn't wanna see you in such pain, he really doesn't. but why should he be so kind to you if you don't want to be nice?

i can imagine an argument breaking out between you two, because he can't ignore you forever. if you decide to yell at him again, then he'll just yell back.

chuuya might even just drug you to shut you up, offering you tea or medicine to help you feel better. but five minutes later, you're out like a light while he picks up your body to wrap you up back in blankets.

you'll probably wake up with arms wrapped around your waist with his knee inbetween your thighs. chances are, you're still affected by the drug and too tired to move or push him off. he understands that cuddling doesn't fully stop the cramp pain, but he doesn't care, because all chuuya wants to do is help you.

"don't move.. it's okay. just go back to sleep. i love you, okay?"

[hypernova-writes]

Hello. Hope you’re doing well and don’t overwork yourself! Many of us are more than willing to lend an ear.

Anyways, if I could, could I request a Yandere Medic x AFAB reader and either headcannons or an imagine (You may chose) of how he would react if the reader kept trying to escape him after being kidnapped, no matter how hard or what he tried?

Thanks! And feel free to ignore this request! And drink water!

A/n: Hello~! I’m doing fine! We’re recovering from a hurricane down here so we’re just getting power back! How about you <3 ALSO I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH. Growing up I had an interest in yandere’s and how they worked (I played a lot of yan simulator when I was younger-) and I always love to see how people characterize different characters! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!

Yandere Medic Headcanons! 💉❤️‍🩹

Before we even start we have to figure out what type of Yandere is Medic exactly!

Based on his personality and how he acts, I would place him as the Mousougata (Delusional), Kanchigaigata (Wrong Idea), and Sokubakugata (Restraints).

So let’s start with the first two since they are very Similar!

The Delusional and Wrong Idea yanderes tend to create a world in their own mind where you are already their darling, they refuse to accept rejection, ignoring the feelings of their darling and truly believing that they are in love with them the same way that they are in love with them! They will get the wrong idea from a simple interaction, and truly believe that they are in a relationship with their darling.

Now onto Medic!

It could start from when you first joined RED, you were a sweetheart to everyone, bringing them sweets as a way to get to know your new teammates.

When you get to Medic, you have to go to his clinic to meet him. You give him such a big smile as he feels like he just melts.

When he touches your hand, it’s almost as if sparks flew around him, he could suddenly feel the blood pumping in your hands, suddenly he wanted to know you more, he wanted to know Everything about you. Every. Single. Thing.

He would figure out your medical records, researching everything about you, He’ll know things about you that you wouldn’t even know about yourself!

When on the battlefield, he would always pocket you, to the point that other members on the team were beginning to suffer from it. Oh his Liebling had sliver of health? Help is on the way dear! But if Scout was near death? Go find a health back, his darling is more important!

Moving to the Restraints part of it. If he notices that you are beginning to pull away from him, he will not hesitate to drug you next time you come to visit him for a checkup. He can’t have his darling trying to run away now? You two were meant to be together!

He will make it to where you are so sluggish that you have to depend on him whenever you are in a battle, You can’t perform right unless you have ,Medic’s Medigun on you.

“Aww..You look so weak..you need a doctor..don’t you~”

Now onto the Imagine~

You knew he was crazy, but you just thought that was Medic being Medic. But when he started to become more obsessive over you, you started to take a step back. Medic wasn’t Medic anymore…

You were struggling to walk back to your room after struggling to get out of the med bay. You had gone to Medic after feeling sick, he had his back turned to you, and thinking you weren’t paying attention he pulled out a vial of what you noticed to be a sleeping agent. This prompted you to get up and made an escape.

No wonder you were feeling weak…he had been drugging you. All your vitamins, allergy medicines, the fucking shots you had gotten…He was tampering with them to keep them close.

You cried out as you felt a sharp in your leg, you looked down and saw a needle in her leg, she looked back and saw Medic smirking at her.

“and vhere do jou zhink jou’re going?…”

You could feel your body getting weak, and you struggled to crawl away. His footsteps were quiet and calm as he walked up.

“It’s is quite rude to leave before jour check up darling~.” He cooed as he walked over to you, standing over you with a small chuckle. He crouched down to caress your face.

“Jou’ll be out in a few. But don’t vorry. I’ll take good care of you my love~”

HI hi! Hope you enjoyed this~ Remember if you would like to support me: Here is my Kofi <3

Also! Please send me more requests like this I enjoyed this a little too much lol..

[apollodarling-writes]

yan! reiner braun hcs

i can’t get enough of this man.

cws: yandere themes, slight worshipper themes, the two of you initially met as scouts, aot season 4 spoilers, spoilers in general, kidnapping, kinda all or nothing thinking, some pathetic reiner crumbs bc i love seeing him pathetic, can kinda be perceived as having some form of a personality disorder, forced starvation and dehydration, kinda dehumanization, slight housewife (gn though) vibes but he just wants you to be productive.

— yan! reiner braun who initially fell in love with you during your time in the scouts. he was absolutely enamored with you. you, with all your flaws and rough edges, have single-handedly made it infinitely harder for him to complete his mission.

— yan! reiner who loves when you tend to his wounds. it makes him feel more human, settling further into the delusion that he had always been a paradisian.

— yan! reiner who is constantly hovering around you after he’s come to terms with his feelings. he has to protect you… no, he needs to. no one can protect you but him.

— yan! reiner who ensures that you’re left with someone he knows will protect you when he has to carry out the phases of his mission before leaving to do so. reiner will also immediately look for you when he’s finished, checking you for injuries— big or small, he’ll patch them up with furrowed brows and a firm expression.

— yan! reiner who is a little creepy… and overbearing. when you’re training, he’s training you to protect yourself in a more efficient way. when you’re eating, he’s making sure you eat good, going as far as to give you a portion of his rations. when you have free time, he’s always itching to spend time with you. you almost never have a moment to yourself unless levi has you stationed elsewhere.

— yan! reiner who feels the need to protect you because he’s witness just how bad this world really is. he is the bad… but he can be everything you need if you’ll let him. he needs to be your everything.

— yan! reiner who values your opinion more than his own. he needs your validation and approval and kindness. he feels like a piece of shit already and he knows that you’ll hate him when he completes the final stage of his plan, but god does he need you. he needs you more than he needs air.

— yan! reiner who takes you back to his homeland. whether you’re screaming profanities at him, kicking or screaming, crying or begging for him to let you go… it’s futile in the end. he needs you. he can’t guarantee your protection if he’s away from you. he can’t live without you; you’re his rock.

— yan! reiner who pulls some strings to get you citizenship in marley. shortly after, the two of you are wed. naturally, his family and friends don’t attend since you’re a filthy island devil, but it’s enough for him to finally be marrying you.

— yan! reiner who will never touch you in any way you don’t want him to. he will always respect your bodily autonomy seeing as he already hates himself and views himself as a monster. he wouldn’t want to be even worse of a person to you. as for punishments… well, that’s a different ballgame.

— yan! reiner who, in a fit of anger, would scream at you. he’s done everything for you! he provides for you, he keeps you safe and well-fed, he has never touched you in any sexual manner (unless you’ve given him explicit consent)— he keeps you healthy and safe and you’ll never have to work again! but if you’ve been ungrateful and have been refusing his efforts, unfortunately he wont be able to be the man you want him to be.

— yan! reiner who corners you, roughly jerking you up by your hair and locking you in the basement. he’ll tell you that you can come out once you’ve learned your lesson. he’ll deliver the absolute bare minimum. a bucket to use the bathroom in, stale bread, and a glass of water every three days. how long you stay down there is up to you.

— yan! reiner who will slump against the basement door and sob. he feels awful, but he knows he can’t let you out. he can’t let you walk all over him. it’s even worse that he’s confirming your already terrible view on him.

— yan! reiner who grovels at your feet for forgiveness when you’re finally out of the basement. he’ll bathe you and murmur constant apologies, all while crying about how awful he feels about it. he’ll brush your hair out, wincing as you flinch, and turn around while you dress yourself.

— yan! reiner who will whip up a tasty meal for you, and if you’re unresponsive, feed you himself. he needs to make sure you’re getting the nutrients you need.

— yan! reiner who, if you lost a noticeable amount of weight while in the basement, gazes at you sadly. he’ll go out and purchase supplements for you to take while you recover and insist you stay in bed while he takes care of all the housework.

— yan! reiner who requires you to do things while he’s gone. he at least wants a warm meal when he comes home, and if the house isn’t in disarray it’s acceptable for him. he’ll help you with chores when he gets home— even if he’s exhausted and ready to collapse. he doesn’t want to place too much pressure on you, but he doesn’t want you succumbing to depression.

— yan! reiner who will press a kiss to your temple, forehead, or cheeks. if he’s feeling bold enough, he’ll press a chaste kiss to your lips.

— yan! reiner who will hold you sooo close to him when it’s time for bed. he needs to feel you against him because it helps him sleep. you bring him peace.

— yan! reiner who absolutely has to have physical contact with you when you accompany him to meet with the other warriors. he has to stake his claim. he has to make it known that you’re his, even if the silver band on your left hand speaks volumes.

— yan! reiner who absolutely adores you. he praises you every moment he can. he needs you to understand why he fell in love with you, how lovely you are, and how much he loves you.

— yan! reiner who just wants to love you and be loved in return. he feels like an asshole for ripping you away from everything you’ve ever known but he needs you.

[yanderes-galore]

Oh yay! Undertale! Can you write a yan concept for Nightmare Sans? ^^

Poor you... He's going to be horrible....

Yandere! Nightmare Sans Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Sadism, Poor mental health/Talk of mental issues (Implied depression), Toxic behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Social and physical isolation, Kidnapping, Dark themes, Slight gore/Grotesque descriptions, Forced companionship/relationship (It's vague).

Nightmare would be difficult to deal with and get away from.

To you, he's the equivalent of an eldritch deity.

You can't kill him and your hate would only fuel him.

I mean, think about it.

Nightmare can traverse universes/timelines when he senses negative thoughts.

Cutting him doesn't kill him.

In fact, not much can hurt him.

The scariest example is probably an obsession who has little knowledge of the timelines and AUs.

That way you have no idea what Nightmare is... who he is... or what he wants from you.

You can get a similar result if you were aware of the multiverse, yet you might be more equipped.

Either way, Nightmare is drawn towards negative emotions.

As his obsession, perhaps you were going through a rough patch?

The good news about Nightmare is there's a low chance to get him as a yandere.

This is because in order to gain his attention, you have to have some pretty negative stuff brewing in you.

Nightmare would be the type of yandere to prey on weakness.

Nightmare would be more drawn to an obsession having poor mental health due to their environment.

The moment he's drawn to you?

Things only seem to get worse, unfortunately.

He'd be one of the more toxic yanderes.

Granted, they all are... but he's a special kind of evil.

When he senses weakness in his obsession, he pounces.

At first, he watches you.

He scouts you out, watching how you act, feeding off your negativity...

Then soon he starts meeting you, usually late at night where he blends in best.

I hope none of you were expecting him to be very... caring.

Nightmare would mess with your head, farming your negativity as though he's starving for it.

He acts as a manifestation of your poor mental health.

He isolates you socially by whispering bad thoughts.

He makes you think your friends hate you, that no one else cares.

All of it is lies, but those in a bad mental state are easy to manipulate for him.

His goal is to keep you to himself.

His "affection" is just a way to use you.

Considering what you have to go through to meet him, you're like a food source to him.

Nightmare is a monster in every sense of the word.

He watches you from afar, glowing blue eyes watching you with a certain hunger.

He loves your suffering... he feeds into it and off it.

Nightmare is good at manipulation, feigning care and compassion to lure you in closer.

As I said before, Nightmare would grow your negative thoughts.

Do you think everyone hates you? Well... he makes those thoughts louder.

They do, they always have... not one soul in your little world liked you or loved you....

But then he turns it around.

No one likes you but him.

Nightmare, as scary as he is, is your only friend and companion.

He plays the part, all a ploy to lure you in like an anglerfish.

He finds it cute when you believe every word he says.

You're in such a bad state you'd believe anything.

Who knows, you probably think he's some hallucination.

In reality, he's very real.

Nightmare would convince you to cut off all your friends and family.

He feeds you false promises of love, even sealing the deal with soft touches.

They aren't genuine, no, Nightmare views you possessively.

His feelings are more akin to a monster feasting on prey, or ownership.

His obsession isn't entirely out of pure love, if any love at all.

Every touch is calculated, every word planned.

You're going to be led into a sticky web of lies with him.

Nightmare plans to pull you deeper into the black inky thoughts you have.

If you think about it, he really is like a physical form of your current mental state.

He only ever seems to make things worse, too.

Nightmare would prevent any attempt to get better.

Therapy? Why even bother going?

You have him, don't you?

Please... he doesn't need you attracting his brother...

He's already taken claim to you, Dream would only ruin things.

Nightmare would keep isolating you and breaking you down until you're all alone.

Your negativity tastes wonderful to him.

By the time he feels you're all his... you can barely leave your bed.

You don't trust anyone, you don't know if you'll ever get better...

The only entity accompanying your thoughts is Nightmare, the ink black monster who never leaves you be.

Nightmare isolating you is important to him.

That way, even if you knew what he was doing, you can't leave.

Where else is there to go if all your bridges have been burned?

Exactly, nowhere.

Nowhere but back to him.

By the time you're ready to give up... he wraps you up in his arms, tentacle-like appendages dragging you tighter against him.

He promises to be merciful... to take you away from this place.

His words are more carefully placed lies.

This is the same monster who has definitely killed for you.

Any friends or family members who pry too much or get too close...?

Nightmare silently hunts them down, an appendage from his inky body impaling them in a bloody mess.

It brings him glee to know this will only make things worse for you.

The blood is quickly cleaned from himself whenever he "intervenes".

These acts have managed to give you the illusion of your friends and family really abandoning you.

Nightmare is a twisted individual, which is expected of his character.

His twisted behavior doesn't end when he lies to your face, saying he'll protect you if you just follow him.

He comments about you being unhappy in your life.

Don't you wish for something else?

Don't you want to leave?

Nightmare fakes the role of some guardian for you.

When you eventually agree, since you have nowhere to go, his grin turns sinister.

By the time you realize the true nature of Nightmare, he's already got you in his grip.

You can't tear yourself out of his grasp.

His grip is too sticky, forcing you to remain still as he teleports out of your world in a puddle.

Imagine if this was your first multiverse experience.

It's such a complex thing... and you only stumble upon it because Nightmare whisked you away.

No one's going to help you, you both know that.

His grip is unrelenting as he rambles about how much he supposedly "cares" about you.

He promises that you will have a new life... one different than your old one...

You'll live a new life by his side, forever...

But he never said your new life would be better than your old one.

[heartfullofleeches]

Ngl imagine ERIN and baker reader like bakerdarling bakes cupcakes for everyone so erin secretly takes almost all of them so nobody could taste what they made.

[Yan Bully + Baker Reader Blurb]

"Thanks again for helping me deliver these, Erin. It was really kind of your brother to lend us his truck too."

"...Whatever."

This blows- When you texted Erin for help with your baking, he thought you were looking for an excuse to hang out with him. Get him to help around the kitchen, bond over your shared interests, maybe let him taste the frosting straight from your lips- He probably wouldn't have gotten his hopes up so high if he had taken the time to wait for your next reply where you mentioned needing assistance to deliver some cupcakes to a mutual acquaintance's house for their birthday. It was a good thing he managed to swipe his brother's car keys - at least he had the brief moment to be alone with you and that you trusted him enough to ask him for assistance.

"I'm gonna go let everyone know we're here. Help yourself while I'm gone. Made a couple extra for you to take home if you want - for your help and all."

Erin looks away as you smile as if you could hear the quicken beat of his heart at the sweet gesture. He turns his attention to the tray of cupcakes sitting on the counter. Bite sized treats of varying colors flavors. You just had to make sure there was something for everybody. Erin picks out a cupcake with pink frosting and heart shaped sprinkles - carefully peeling back the wrapper before popping the whole thing in his mouth. He licks creamy frosting from his fingers as he chews, already scouting his next target from the display. He's sampled your desserts before, but they just get better everytime. He could taste the love you put into your craft... love everyone at this party would just take for granted.

Erin glances down the hall you came as he picks up another cupcake. He unwraps and shoves it into his mouth as he looks in the opposite direction towards the door. He swipes another cupcake just to lick the frosting off the top before placing it back among the rest. He scoops the tray into his arms - powering through three more as he walks towards the backdoor. Barely stopping to breath, he nears chokes as a voice calls out.

"Hey, are those the cupcakes Y/n said they were bringing?"

"....No."

[yanchive]

Alright, since the isekai blurb was well received, I feel a bit more comfortable sharing one of my favorite tropes that I come back to a lot.

I've seen a few of yan!Pop Idol fics before, usually with a reader that's either a fan, a regular person, their manager, or a fellow idol, but I've enjoyed the concept of a reader that's also an artist, but of an entirely different music genre.

Yandere!Pop Idol x Rockstar!Reader

The Yan has been in the public eye since they were a child. They started off as a child model for clothing brands and/or other products targeted towards kids. Had been in commercials, too. They grew a following of being just an adorable sweetheart of their country, and was scouted by an idol agency that took them under their wing, and trained them throughout their childhood, into a world renowned Idol, loved by many.

You started off with more humble beginnings. A delinquent of sorts that spent more time putting effort into learning guitar n drums than your math homework. Filling your notebooks with song lyrics instead of notes. Your weekends and breaks from school were you spending hours in the garage with a couple of friends practicing music until the sun went down.

You dropped out of high school just before graduating to travel with your bandmates to get your name out there. You eventually were picked up by a record label and officially began your career. You were known for your "Don't give a fuck" personality.

Idol Yan was well put together with a perfect image and a fanbase of parasocial fanatics. You were wild with an image of rebellion and a fanbase of edgelord delinquents.

One sung of romance and sensual experiences and another sung of heartbreak and fake friends. You two could not be anymore different. You might as well be on two separate planets.

Now, how would two polarizing artists end up in each others world? I feel like a few scenarios could work. But I've been focusing on the concept of another artist being the middle ground between these two worlds. Its not uncommon for artists of different genres to collab. I can see another artist befriending both Yan Idol and Rockstar reader and separate points in their life that led to you and Yans meeting. You and this unnamed artist met first. You were already in the game by the time you two met and helped them with their career. Eventually due to busy schedules you two don't talk often, and later down the road this artist met Yan Idol and collabed with them.

I see this 3rd artist getting ready to go on tour, and Yan Idol was going to go along due to their collab, but they were in need of opening bands, and you just so happened to have a rare moment of a clear schedule when this tour was to begin. Due to your previous connection, you and the 3rd artist already had a pretty big overlap in fans, so you were a perfect choice as an opener.

To build more on Rockstar and Idol's first impressions, I see Rockstar not being a huge fan of pop. In fact, you'd be pretty critical of it. Your view is that it's not real music that's made with passion and care. it's just cashgrab sound to you. So you're not quite thrilled to be touring with someone you think is only in the music industry for fame and wealth.

While Idol Yan finds you crass and arrogant. You're style is dark and messy, you swear way too much, and your music is so loud and sounds like garbled mess of ear shattering drum beats, screeching guitars and vocals that they cannot possibly classify as "singing". So, the first section of the tour was pretty tense and awkward.

Both of you were mature enough not to be assholes to each other publicly, you usually just avoided each other for the first few shows.

I see Yan Idol's impression of you changing over time. The more they got to see you work both on and off stage, they ended up seeing more sides of you that weren't in tune with your "rockstar" persona. They got to hear some of your more somber songs, the ones that spoke of your personal struggles, and the damage your mental health had actually taken since becoming famous. They got to see how much effort you put into writing your lyrics. How passiomate you were for music. They had a few opportunities to hold conversations with you that were filled with in-depth discussions that showed just how thoughtful and observant you were to the world around you. You were still a bit of a cynical dickwad sometimes, but you were definitely more than just a high school dropout with a bad attitude.

This caused them to drop their negative assumption with you, opening a bit more as they began to develop an interest and fondness for you.

You'd lighten up a bit with them, too, but you never get too close. Your first and only love is music, and you also know your fanbase would definitely make fun of you for getting close to a popstar when you've always been vocal about your dislike of them. You're not as harsh about their taste in music nor their choice of being a pop idol. You learn they also enjoy making their music(and not for fame and wealth reasons. Well, maybe a little bit for fame... They're a bit of an attention whore), even if they don't have nearly as much say in it as you do with your music. But despite this, you choose to keep your relationship strictly cordial.

But that won't stop Yan Idol. They'll find themselves staying up at night watching your live performances, interviews, funny moment compilations, and eventually even fancams. It'll become an addiction. Even after the tour ends, they'll have a routine of constantly checking for updates with your band and music. They'll send you compliments and congratulations on your achievements. They'll find time to hunt you down at award shows for even just a sliver of your time. Even if your interaction was just a passing "hello."

It'll invade their music. You were always making fun of artists making love songs when they've clearly never experienced love, so if they were to ever one day have the courage to confess, surely you'd be impressed that they've now made love songs that were from a genuine place of love, no? God their so pathetic now, trying so hard to impress someone like you.

You're a strange, unhinged bastard with astounding musical talent, and it fascinates them. They envy your freedom and lack of social restraints. They envy how music seems to come so easy to you and the full control you have of it. They envy your ability to be absolutely gorgeous even while screaming obscene, raged-filled lyrics into a microphone 30 minutes into a live set, doused in sweat and water. Fucked up hair and smudged eyeshadow and liner. Your a fucking mess. A fucking, perfect mess. They want you, they want to be you, they want to read articles about you two being seen together, doing anything that'll arouse rumors of a blooming relationship. They want to see fans write fanfics and make fanart of you two. They want to be the music industry's newest, hottest couple with you. Wouldn't that be nice?

[Proofreading, and I realize that I think I went way too harsh on the bashing of pop music, so I want to say that I do not hate pop music for any pop fans out there lmao. I got my fair share of pop music that I enjoy. I'm simply more of a rock genre enjoyer myself. I wrote this shit off the top of my head, recalling old fucken... daydream plots, so if it reads like shit we'll blame it on that lmao. Bon appetite, my dudes.]