#yandere Chrono

[shini--chan]

Hello, I recently read your latest yandere Overhaul fic (by the way, I loved it, it's very true to the character, congratulations!) And I've been thinking about a scenario with poly!Chronohaul (sorry, I don't know if you write "poly") where the reader runs away and encounters a hero (not very creative, but I was curious).

Sorry my english

Hello there, don't worry, your English is better than you think. Let's se what I can whip up here:

Yandere Chronohaul x Reader - Blindspot

Word count: ~9k Synopnsis: Exploiting a moment of their weakness, you manage to escape. Luck seems to be on your side, you even find shelter by a pro-hero, then it isn't anymore. Trigger warnings: discussions of kidnapping, isolation and punishment and gore. Rated mature (further warnings not mentioned to prevent spoilers.)

Were it under other circumstances, you would have taken the time to enjoy being outside for the first time in months. Even the stale city air of Mustafaa was refreshing compared to the recycled and sanitised air you got down in the Yakuza basement. Your heart was beating as fast as that of a mouse and anxiety made your senses sharp. Every rustle of leaves, every flash of lights in the distance and the commotion of a neighborhood slowly falling asleep made your fear spike. Which was influencing you more - the rabbit-like fear of running from danger, or having spent so much time in sterile circumstances with set parameters that you were now overwhelmed. 

Your muscles were severely atrophied. Each step made your legs burn and your lungs ache, yet you continued to push yourself forwards. After all, with each passing second they could be closing in on you, finally having noticed your absence. It really was a stroke of luck that you managed to slip through the cracks. While your more outrageous escape attempts had died down months ago, you had nevertheless kept a watchful eye out for any cracks in Chisaki’s elaborate cage. 

Imagine your surprise when one domino tripped another one over, and a party of some kind gave you the opening you needed. Carefully bent hair pins had opened the door, and it had been easy to lull the sleepy and intoxicated guard to sleep. The commotion upstairs had overshadowed any noises your scampering had caused. Yet … 

Kurono and Chisaki weren’t to be taken lightly, and one or the other or both could have been on their way to seek some peace and quiet in the comfort of your arms when you finally managed to slip out the kitchen window. 

Best get to the busier inner city instead of remaining stuck in the suburbs - with all the people around, they would have a harder time finding you. Not to mention that they wouldn’t be able to just swoop in and scoop you up. The question was if you would even make it that far. Yet you just seemed to be stumbling into ever filthier and rundown neighborhoods. 

Your vision was already swimming from all the physical exertion and you were starting to feel slightly nauseous. The past months had featured a calculated diet and a lifestyle tailored for that of a precious human doll, not an ordinary citizen or even an athlete. Finally, you couldn’t bear it anymore and unceremoniously collapsed on a bench by the road. The squeak of protest the metal gave grated in your ears. 

Taking deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself down. The coppery taste of your own blood lingered in the back of your throat and you felt awfully queasy. Above you, the tree branches and the electric cables swam. Closing your eyes only brought you minor relief. You leaned forward and rested your head on your knees. 

What on earth should you do now? Where could you go where neither Chisaki nor Kuruno would find you? Your old life wasn't much of an option - it would be the first place they would look and your loved ones would be the first people they would threaten. While you had managed to swipe some money on your way out, as well as some other bits and bobs, it wouldn't last you forever. 

The wind weaving through your tresses reminded you too much of Chrono running his fingers through your hair. He had forced you to grow it out, much to his friend's charigin. The memory caused an involuntary shiver to shake your body. 

Now that the adrenaline high was gradually abating, and you were no longer keeping yourself hot by running, the winter chill was making itself noticeable. The cold sweat on your brow and your back made you shiver in spite of the oversized coat you were wearing. Instinctively you drew yourself closer together. To make matters worse, you weren't even wearing proper shoes and the linen of the indoor loafers were soaked through. Now that you paid attention, you couldn't feel your toes anymore. 

To confirm your fears, you scuffed your foot against some of the snow on the ground. A strange jolt shot up your leg and the absence of feeling in your toes was more noticeable. It was like having rubber mockups attached to your foot instead of actual flesh-and-blood appendages. You swore under your breath. All the movement made you more ill. The nausea was coupled with dizziness now. 

You could already hear Chiskai tutting at your pathetic state and explaining in that oh so condescending voice of his that this was what you rightfully got for running away. He was like oil - slick and slippery and contaminating in a way that you would never be able to get rid of him. You’d forever have his voice whispering in your head as an embodiment of your doubts and fear. It wasn’t aided by the fact that he was right so often. Bad girls like you always got the shorter end of the stick due to not listening to their betters. If only you’d listen to his guidance and treat it like the gospel it was, then…

“Are you alright, kid?”

A voice tore you from your spiralling thoughts and you startled. Before you, there was a middle aged man in a gaudy hero costume. 

You couldn't stop shivering. At this point, it was no longer due to the winter cold or your wet clothing. The soaked garments had long since been discarded and banished to a bucket in the bathroom. Now you were huddled on a couch and dressed in baggy clothing graciously provided by your saviour. Canine Instinct, the hero who had given you refuge, gave you a concerned look and carefully handed you a lidded mug with a straw in it.

“Careful there. Drink slowly but drink everything, alright? It is just lukewarm, not hot, so don't worry about burning your tongue. You are now coming down from your adrenaline high and you also spent a lot of time out in the cold. So you need sugar now, or else you'll crash”, he cautioned you.

While you knew that the cup was just warm, yet it burned to touch from the roots of your palms to your fingertips as you accepted it. Feeling re-entered your fingers painfully, and your flesh tingled uncomfortably. With trembling hands you lifted the beverage and took some careful and slow sips through the straw.

The rich, creamy flavour of hot chocolate flooded your senses. Having something so decadent and aromatic after months of a strictly controlled diet really was a treat, utter heaven to be precise. It provided some form of comfort and eased the marrow deep fear that was making you quake.

Sighing, you allowed yourself to sink into the couch. Tension bleed from your shoulders and extremities, and you turned your focus away from your surroundings and zeroed in on the treat.

All of this, running away and finally being free, finally no longer having to cater to the whims of two eccentric men, finally not having to abide by their stringent rules any longer, had felt so surreal. It still did, though you were no longer neigh fully convinced that this was all a pipe dream or an elaborate hallucination. There was still the ember of doubt in the back of your mind, nagging that this was all a trap that was about to spring shut at any moment.

Yet what would you do if it really was a trap? As of now, you were too vulnerable and sluggish to escape or also defend yourself. If you had stayed outside, you would have frozen to death sooner or later, if the hero would have even let you commit such a passive suicide. Overhaul's care had made you soft and fragile - yet another reason to loathe him.

“Thanks a lot”, you rasped in between sips. The ruggish features of your rescuer soften to a small smile. He rolled his shoulders and the ripples beneath the blue-yellow hero costume spoke of a healthy and trained body. “Just doing what was proper, kid.”

It was cute how the hero was downright sheepish now. He rubbed the back of his head and pointedly avoided eye contact by staring off to the side. Your heart started to hammer and your cheeks burned. Yet you were quick to shake yourself out of it and you averted your gaze as well.

Now was not the time to bat eyes at strangers, you admonished yourself. Was it because of your prior social isolation that you were now extraordinarily sensitive to new people? It would make sense; you had avoided developing fuzzy feelings for either Chisaki or Kurono and now that a somewhat passable person had presented himself, you were becoming emotional.

Or you were being a stereotypical damsel in distress. All too quick to be charmed by the knight in shining armour. All too eager to sow a bright future and glorious future now that you were no longer in danger.

Your shivering had died down, now that had introduced some sugar into your system. The silence between the two of you was now awkward. His hand switched from the back of his neck to his arm, and he rubbed the polyester fabric thoughtfully. The silence that reigned was awkward and it made your skin crawl. You rubbed your feet together beneath the blanket and prayed for another miracle to happen. Anxiety made your heart flutter, you tightened your fingers around the ceramic in your hands.

“You must still be cold! I’ll go get the heater”, he mumbled. Before you could say anything to that, he already slipped out of the room and left you on your lonesome.

With a sigh, you sunk into yourself and angrily nursed your beverage. Mind you, you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at yourself. Clearly spending months on end locked away in some Yakuza base of operation had severely degraded your social skills, amongst other things. Seeing the same set of faces, and only really being allowed to converse with two of them hadn’t done you any favours. While in their tender care, you thought you might die due to sheer boredom or a scorned Chisaki or Kurono. Now, you were evidently in danger of finding your end due to social anxiety and emotional clumsiness.

Once upon a time, you had struck conversations with strangers on the train while travelling. That all had rotten away to reduce you to being an emotional mess once you saw an unfamiliar person. Looking back, it was a stroke of macabre luck that you had been too out of it due to exhaustion and the beginnings of hypothermia to panic when the hero had approached you an hour or so ago to think about social implications. Even though both of them were the root of this development, you could very well imagine your kidnappers citing this as a reason as to why you had to be shielded from the rest of the world.

Taking a large gulp of hot chocolate and thus finishing off the mug, you placed it on the coffee table next to the musty sofa. With nothing better to do, other than stew in your own misery, you decided to take a good look around the room.

It was tidy if cramped, and it spoke of a person that wasn’t home often. While there were books stuffed in the shelves and knicknacks strewn across window sills and countertops there was a layer of dust over everything and an odd sort of lifelessness to this living room. There were no photos or items out of order - it looked more like a room from one of those sterile stock photographs. It was sad, because even Chisaki’s office had more of a personal touch to it than this apartment.

Canine Instinct marched through the living room door the next moment, a portable heater in hand. The device was plugged in, and he placed it close to you. The switch was flipped and the heater came to life with an audible whirl and hum. Soon, it enemated a comfortable warmth. You stretched your legs out and flexed your toes.

“Don’t go too close. We don’t need you setting the blanket or your socks on fire”, he warned you. The floundering from before had disappeared out the window now that he could play protector again. You didn’t know whether to label his attention demeaning or flattering. Instead of reprimanding him, you just giggled quietly. Mixed feelings really are a pain.

“Yeah, thanks for the warning. The brain fog is lifting so I don't think I'm gonna do anything rash soon.”

He settled down on the couch, all while maintaining a respectable distance from you. Not that body contact would throw you off centre, at least not when it would be coming from him. Not when he had half-carried you to his home. It had been maddening how he had barked at you to keep your legs moving, lest you be unable to move them. Only Overhaul's punishments of drugging you up to the gills had prevented you from expressing your annoyance beyond facial expressions.

“It was very lucky that you found me out there, and I can't thank you enough”, you started. While your times as an unwilling shut-in had degraded your social skills and the tact needed to navigate interpersonal situations, it hadn't eroded your manners. Best start there and build up on that basis.

“I hope that I didn't interrupt anything important, Canine Instinct.”

The hero scoffed and shook his head, the brown-black hair swaying as he did so. He appeared to be oddly tired at that moment.

“Don’t mention it. And call me Teru. Too many people throw up their hands nowadays when somebody else is in need. This was the least I can do”, he explained. Next to the derision aimed at the everyman, there was a jaded quality to his voice. It stood in sharp contrast to his fumbling behaviour from earlier.

You shifted so that you were facing him. The makeshift underwear fashioned out of torn bed sheets chafed at your too soft skin as you did so. He had given you his name, that was a good sign that you weren’t being too rigid in his gestures, and that he was warming up to you.

“And because it is not a certain thing there is only more reason to be thankful”, you protested. Here, you were earnest. If he had come a bit later, then the negative consequences of your actions would have been more severe, or even permanent. Or even worse, maybe your two kidnappers would have found you. “You did save my life, Teru. It is hard not to be thankful.”

Blue eyes looked at you thoughtfully and he imitated your gesture by angling his torso to face you as well. He studied you from a moment, and you felt your skin crawl in anticipation.

“It seems like I have”, Teru finally muttered. It was contemplative and said with wonder. Wasn’t this guy a hero though? Didn’t he swoop around to save people daily?

Suppressing nervous laughter, you turned to ask him: “What were you doing outside? Was it one of your patrols?” By no means could you claim to really know what hero work entailed, with you only aware of the one or the other aspect of it through the news and also pop culture.

Your host leaned back into the musty sofa and closed his eyes.

“Something like that. Not really patrols in the traditional sense, more of a scouting of the neighborhood and analysing weak points and blind spots”, he elaborated. That wasn’t exactly comforting news. Had you stumbled into the arms of a villain?

He opened his eyes once more and fixed you with a calculating expression.

“I'm just in the area to investigate a series of break-ins. You wouldn't happen to be the villain behind those?”

Your face flushed and you felt mortified for a moment. Being put in the spotlight so suddenly was extremely unpleasant. And how could he just straight up accuse you of commiting crimes? Had he just taken you in to nurse you back to health and then interrogate you and slap the handcuffs on your wrists? Worse still, how could you convince him of your innocence without looking like an idiot? It wasn’t like you really had a verifiable alibi. The laughable notion of pulling Kurono up to testify that you had been in mafia hands and incapable of committing any burglaries came to mind.

Then it rushed away as the absurdity of the situation dawned on you and you began to chuckle. Soon you were laughing so hard, that your whole body was shaking and your muscles were beginning to ache again. It was exhilarating - you had gone around with a dour attitude for what felt like a lifetime, and this was a very welcome change of pace.

As a pleasant surprise, he joined in and his face shone with mirth. The hero looked far better with a genuine smile on his face. For a few seconds, the jadedness and the exhaustion melted away. The two of you sat there, laughter ebbing and rising as the humour resonated between the two of you.

“As sorry as I am for shocking you, you should have seen the look on your face!”, he pressed out once both your faces were more than just flushed from all the chucking and giggling.

His laughter came from the belly, and fully matched the smokey baritone he had. As he passed into chortling again, the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes became deeper. In turn, you tempered yourself for a few moments in order to stop laughing.

“That was very mean of you. You really had me convinced that you were going to arrest me for a moment”, you chided him. The past you might have gone as far as to playfully swat at him, though that person had long since become a matter of the past.

Teru now wore a more comfortable and lighthearted expression. “I know that my brand of humour is very dark and not everybody’s cup of tea. It was definitely worth the try, seeing how tense and on guard you were being”, he elaborated.

Upon his mention of it, you realised your own rigid body language. Despite allowing your body as a whole to sink into the cushions, your shoulders were still slightly hunched and there was tension in your arm and leg muscles. The pain of hyper tense muscles travelled up your back as you cocked your head. Without a doubt, your back was probably as hard as a stone due to all the stiffened muscles; a product of the past few months. Taking a few deep breaths, you consciously unwound the tension in your extremities and lowered your shoulders.

After the bout of merriment and manually relaxing your body, you indeed felt better.

“Sorry about that. It is just that I have been through so much that it is hard to feel safe, even when I logically know that I am.”

The man next you let out a loud exhale and fully turned to you. His body language was open and relaxed, purposefully so. Teru did his best to school his features to a warm and receptive expression - not an easy task for a man with such sharp features. His countenance only softened marginally. There was pity as well, and you couldn't define if the emotion spreading in your chest was relief or frustration.

“It is hard to miss that. You clam up every now and then, you act more like a frightened bunny that is being chased than a human being. While I'm not the most sociable person, I'll still listen to you if you want to talk about your experiences. Best not to be left alone with your thoughts after all”, he said.

In spite of his kind words, you were hesitant to share your burden. Grabbing the edges of the blanket, you cocooned yourself further. Opening your heart would mean exposing yourself to potential attacks and making yourself vulnerable. As tempting as it was to purge the wound of pus, it was nearly safer to keep everything inside. So you stewed in your misery, the concoction becoming more viscous by the minute. Soon you would never be able to free yourself.

What made it worse was that Kurono had been like this all too often. The kidnapper had insisted that you call him Hari and had plied you with books and blankets and fresh fruit. When he had talked with you, it had often been in a soft, warm tone that was more suited for luring in wild animals than conversing with a human. His reasoning had been sound, and with what he had said, you had thought that he emphasised with you. Consequently, you had stepped in his trap, and when he finally revealed his true colours, he had had enough intel to surpass or even rip your defenses down.

Teru sunk into himself after a few minutes of enduring your silence and ran a hand through his hair. Then he rubbed both hands up and down his thighs and sighed shakily. Eyes averted and directed to a distant point out the window, he eventually started talking about himself:

“I’m kind of a mixed bag when it comes to hero work. My quirk enhances all of my senses, for one, so I had a pretty terrible childhood, but that is another can of worms. For most of my career, I’ve been tasked with searching missing people.

“It is hard, gruelling work most of the time, even with a quirk suited for the task. While it is always a delight to find people that had simply gotten lost and were grateful to be rescued and brought home, it wasn't always the case. Far more often we'd find people that were the victims of villains, especially in the years when Almight was in America.”

He gave you a sombre and meaningful look. There was pain in his eyes, and finally it occured to you that all the discrepancies that you were picking up from him were due to him being jaded, of his bitter experiences clashing with his more caring base nature. Your fingers flexed.

“It could be anything from a disorientated or frightened girl to a man mutilated beyond recognition. Often, there wasn’t enough time to give the search party a full briefing, since any search is a race against time, with how things currently are. Therefore, we were never sure what we would find. Most of the time, it would be a terrible surprise that would leave the new members on the team retching, and the seasoned ones with sleepless nights. It is always terrible to have to pack somebody in a body bag and console the families afterwards.

“It is even worse when the person you searched for is dead by their own hand. Suicide never takes pain out of the world, it only transfers it to the people left behind. What follows is worse than usual grief because everybody blames themselves. But most of the time, there are no easy solutions to suicidality. Let me stop here before I divulge into philosophical rambling”, he explained. Towards the end, his voice grew thick and his eyes glassy. He turned his head with a sniff.

Once he gathered his bearings, he turned back to you. He took a shaky breath and quirked his lips to a false smile. Such an expression would be more suited on a softer face; on him, it only accentuated his pain.

“I hung the hat there a few months ago because it just became too much. As of now, I’m concerning myself with easier tasks, like investigating and catching burglars.” He made a sweeping gesture to the living room the two of you were seated in. “As you can see, this place is used and not really lived in yet. Comes from me drowning myself in work to not have to deal with the Gordian knot that is my past. Emotions can really be a pest. Friday nights are for the bar, and the bartender is the closest to a therapist that I can get. I’ve see the best and the worst of humanity, so much so that I can’t bear simply brushing somebody in need aside.”

The latter part of his tale was told in choppy sentences and his words were bittersweet. Teru had opened his heart to you to make you feel more at ease, which was more than anybody had done for you for a long time. To Kurono you had been akin to a pet, and to Chisaki, a doll. Nevertheless, this also pulled on your heart strings and put pressure on you to reciprocate the gesture.

“I am … sorry for what you had to go through. I know that you’ve been through a lot and to be honest, I don’t really know what to say”, you started. It was true, after all. How did you respond to a hero that elaborated on harsh work experience?

Your rescuer let out a small, barking laugh. “While I can understand you now feel the need to console me, you really don’t have to. This was an olive branch.”

You weighed your options and drew your knees to your chest. Your knee jerk instinct was to make up a lie that would be less embarrassing and exposing. Something like being a rich kid that had run away from home, or a tourist that had been mugged. Eventually though, you conceded at any tall tales that you could spin would only come back to bite you. The bitter, disgusting truth it would have to be.

“I was kidnapped by the Yakuza”, you stated. You paused there to gauge his reaction. There was a sharp inhale on his end and some muttered, intelligible cursing. He looked like he wanted to take the reins in his hands and launch into a questioning. Instead, he held himself back, and gave you a stiff nod to continue.

“I don't know what the usual story is of people roped in for organised crime, at least not entirely. There wasn't any fake modeling agency nor had I taken any money in the form of a loan from them. Actually, I didn't have any contact with them and was living a normal life. Things were not spectacular in any way; not very good, nor very bad”, you elaborated.

You forced yourself to unfurl your limbs and stretch. The flesh wasn't as numb as before and there was a pleasant burn as you extended your legs and pointed your toes. Tension curled in your abdomen, like a venomous snake ready to strike. With a shaky exhale you pushed yourself to continue.

“I didn't notice that I was being stalked at first. To me, it was always one of those things that only happen to other people, so I was in denial for the longest time. At first, it was also so easy to brush off as me having an overactive imagination.”

Not being able to contain your fidgeting, you reached forward to snatch the cup. With it in your hands, your twitching and tensing and scratching wouldn't be that obvious. His kindness and hospitality aside, you had still had been an involuntary recluse for the longest time, and furthermore the kidnapping wasn't the easiest thing to talk about.

“Then the gifts started appearing.”

You could recall it with painful clarity. The roses and the candied fruits had been sweet in the beginning, so much so that you had been able to brush the uneasiness aside. Naive as you had been, you had convinced yourself it was just the shy gestures of an acquaintance or co-worker.

“It was normal at first, and easy enough to just label as some cheesy romantic gesture. Then, the gifts started getting weirder and weirder. I got leather gloves and an elaborate filter mask. Next, there were outdated books on quirk theory. These were all things that just popped up on my doorstep, or in my mailbox.

“Then the stalking became more invasive. The gifts started appearing in my apartment, and with letters as well. I was told to avoid people, to not engage with heroes or villains and not to go to the police unless I wanted people to die. Things were stolen or misplaced and they started controlling my diet by replacing food items in my fridge and pantry. I became a nervous wreck and started to isolate myself because I didn't have the slightest clue who it was and who it wasn't.

“Me being at home didn't stop the buglaring or the gift-giving. It only brought me face to face with them and resulted in me getting abducted by the Shie Hassikai.”

Your voice cracked at the end and you were so swept up in emotions that you couldn't continue. Tears spilled down your cheeks and you bowed your head in shame of your own emotional vulnerability. Days upon days you had refused to let yourself dwell on what had happened; it was not like pondering on the what-ifs and has-beens would have improved your situation in any way. You had avoided letting yourself think about that “courtship” in order to not crack.

The hero shifted closer to you, and lay a tentative hand on your back. When you didn’t flinch away, he caressed you.

“Did they want you because of your quirk?”, he asked.

You scoffed derisively. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Though, he wasn’t at fault for asking such a question. Many kidnappings happened in order to utilise somebody’s quirk, or to … establish a new bloodline. It had been ironic luck that Kai Chisaki hadn’t been enthralled with you due to your powers.

“That occured to me as well in the beginning. But the Hassikai aren’t typical villains or like normal organised crime. They want to remove quirks from people”, you spat. You had been so naive in the beginning - you nearly missed those times. Actually knowing the nature and direction of Chisaki’s ambitions was worse.

A sharp gasp left your companion and he ceased his comforting gestures. Indeed, he even sprung to his feet and started pacing.

“Anti-quirk Yakuza, ha? That is very strange and concerning. Did they kidnap you because you are quirkless?”

To that, you shook your head quickly and flinched. While you had avoided being depicted as a human trafficking victim, there was the chance that he would decide that you had fallen prey to human experimentation. All of this was tiresome and tedious and soured acid on a festering wound. Even after he had taken you seriously and not lambasted or ridiculed your hardships, you still felt shame for what happened. While this was akin to draining the pus from an infection, it was still painful and highly unpleasant. Besides, how to make him understand without making it look like you sympathised with Overhaul’s cause. His goals and motivations weren’t of the common flavour and even less comprehensible to most.

That was the issue with explaining Overhaul: he didn't mind quirks, he didn't even mind quirk usage. What he detested was how quirks had changed society, had turned society into a hoard of eternal adolescents and the country into a playground. All these heroes and villains just smash up creatures and things, and then retreat back to their vast carelessness, according to him. Others were then left to pick up the pieces, and clean up the mess they made.

And then there were the ordinary people, who refused to lift a finger to help others because there surely was a hero closeby. Scientific development had stagnated and even regressed in some fields, and the current culture was one that catered to humanity's vices. Chisaki Kai didn't want to destroy quirks, he wanted to destroy hero society and then fashion something new and “healthy�� from the ashes.

Overhaul's view was completely alien to most people and it didn't help that he tended to explain it through the lenses of his mysophobia. It had much time and frustration on his part, and much confusion and horror on yours until you had finally understood his rants. You probably only hadn't ended up as a smear on the wall because he had deemed making you understand his point of view to be of utmost importance. Overhaul had yearned for your love and sympathy and support, and had tried to gain it by breaking down his ambitions.

His world view was nearly incomprehensible to a quirk based society, so how on earth could you convey the gravitas and severity of his endeavour without being misunderstood yourself? To make matters worse, Chisaki's scheme of overhauling society even had a high chance of success.

You were about to lay out careful arguments and try to make him comprehend in a few minutes what had taken you weeks to grasp when the sound of a window shattering tore you out of contemplation. Teru immediately stopped pacing and you dropped the cup in your hand out of surprise.

Thankfully, it only fell onto your lap. The lid came undone and a few stray droplets darkened the blue blanket. All the tension that had bled from you the past minutes returned to you all at once and your heart rate shot up.

The hero's attention reflexively went in the direction of the commotion. In the next few moments, you were both motionless and silent as your ears strained to catch further noises. A high note of glass clattering heightened the suspense.

“Hide yourself somewhere close by and don't come out until I say the coast is clear. I'm going to go deal with these burglars”, he announced and then briskly set off to put himself in danger.

Being left alone was very daunting and you were tempted to call out to him and beg him to stay. A very selfish request and you forced yourself to stay silent. Your eyes followed him as he marched away. He didn't even bother with quieting his steps. You swallowed nervously.

Despite feeling lightheaded from fear, you willed yourself to stand up. Your heart was in your throat and you flexed your hands as you considered your next course of action.

Hiding in the living room would be the most obvious course of action. Therein lay the problem - if the criminals were out for blood, then of course they would check every nook and cranny of this room. Even if they were just out for valuables, then the living room still wasn't a safe place to stay.

Best hide yourself somewhere that couldn't possibly hold any valuables. With that thought in mind, you exited the living room, and then decided to head in the opposite direction of the commotion. You were still undecided about your hiding place when you passed the entry way and noticed motion in your periphery.

Just in time you turned your head to see the door swing open on silent hinges. There was no sound of it being unlocked or the tell-tale sound of the door handle being pressed down. Instead there was only the rustle of the lock disintegrating to particles and the exasperated sigh of Chisaki when he layed eyes on you.

You froze, like a rabbit that had just noticed the fox leering at it with hungry eyes. This really was one of the worst outcomes that could have been. Your mind blanked. Gold eyes fixed you with exasperated amusement. Nothing far from the usual and that was the worst part of it.

“I really had envisioned an evening that didn't involve running around and picking up runaways. Now don't drag out the inevitable and come here”, he told you. One gloved hand was outstretched.

The audacity of him to treat you like an unruly puppy, instead of a suffering person that yearned to leave all the hardships behind. It was sickening. It was disgusting. And the big problem here was that he thought he was being righteous and that you were being disagreeable. There he stood in the doorway just out of reach of the light’s rays. He was a spectre that had returned to haunt you, and he would never let you have peace. If you weren’t careful, he would drag you to hell with you in tow.

Slowly, you backed away from him, all while shaking your head. By now, you were hyperventilating, and his dismayed attitude only made you more distraught. Fresh tears started to spring from your eyes, and your lungs constricted with the beginnings of hyperventilation.

“Why do you have to make things so difficult? Can’t you see that I just want the best for you? Staying amongst this sickened society would have only made you fall prey to Hero Syndrome sooner or later. I just want to save you, I just want to keep you safe, and you treat me like a monster”, he criticised you and there was finally some more emotion in his raspy voice, even if it was just condensation.

Chisaki stepped into the light, the messing outline of the plague doctor mask he loved to wear shining. Droplets of water made the obnoxious purple fluff of his jacket shine. A new pair of latex gloves were snapped over the ones he was already wearing and he passed the genkan step to make his way over to you.

That was when fear kicked you into moving, and moving fast. You stumbled back where you came from and darted into the living room. From what you could hear, he didn’t even bother running after you and instead pursued you at a leisurely pace. A quick look over your shoulder told you that he was slowly becoming angry at your perceived insolence.

The door was hastily slammed shut behind you. Without having time to search for a better place to hide, scrammed to a small storage closet and squeezed yourself inside, taking as much care as you could to not knock over the vacuum cleaner inside. As quietly as possible, you closed the door again and crouched down. Right in the nick of time as well, because you had just closed the door when the living room door opened again.

You covered your mouth with a hand to muffle your breathing and you turned the impulse to jump in shock into a flinch when the living room door made a soft knock against your hiding place. Overhaul didn’t bother masking his steps as he sauntered into the room.

“I had planned to spend a relaxing evening with you. Heavens know that I needed it, especially after having to deal with that brat and all those incompetents. Then I come down to your room, only to find that you had knocked out your guard and run away. Just when you seemed to truly be coming around, just when you seemed to finally understand the rightness of my actions, you have to pull a stunt like this. Pet, you have no idea how disappointed I am in you”, your tormentor mused.

You listened as he walked around the living room. There was a loud squeak as he moved the couch, doubtlessly to check if you were under it.

“As much as I love you, it is moments like this that make me really want to tear my hair out. Here I thought that once I made you understand the importance of my work, I could grant you more freedoms. I was looking forward to not having to monitor your every move, and to foregoing the guards. You really have betrayed my trust this way. However, if you come out of your own accord now, I’ll be a bit milder with my punishment towards you.”

Breathing with a hand over your mouth was more difficult than expected. Sweat made your palms slick and caused the oversized shirt to stick in the most uncomfortable places. Your lungs burned as you tried to consciously control your breathing. 

There was a scoff on the other side of the door. 

“The first thing you do upon running away is drink hot chocolate. And here I thought Hari was being too lenient with you. Maybe he has been; I should stop turning a blind eye to him sneaking you treats.”

He tapped his fingers against a shelf as he rounded the room. Again, there was some tutting. Doubtlessly he had noticed the layer of dust covering all the furniture. 

“You know, your punishment is inevitable so there is no use hiding. A burned child shies the fire, after all, so it must be. We all know that a good talking to doesn’t really drive the point home, in your case. You need to be taught a lesson with emotional impact. Thankfully for you, it will be quick one this time.”

Footsteps from the hallway approached you, the steps speaking of a brisk and firm pace. Your heart soared and hope blossomed. You prayed that it was Teru and he was coming to rescue you. If anybody stood a chance against one Kai Chisaki, then it surely was a seasoned hero. Even if Canine Instinct couldn’t best Overhaul in a fight, then he could wreak enough havoc to enable the two of you to flee. If you were lucky, then more heroes would come to your aid and then Overhaul could be finally defeated once and for all. Maybe, you could then…

“Ah, Hari. Took you long enough”, Chisaki remarked, and with that, all your dreams were shattered. 

“Not on purpose, mind you. This one was tougher than your usual run-of-the-mill hero. He had a really nasty right hook”, Kuruno remarked. There was a nasal quality to his voice, as if his nose had been broken. A groan was followed by a thump, as if a body was being set down. 

You balled your hand into a fist and bit down on your thumb to stop yourself from wailing. Shivers wracked your body and sharp pain sprouted from where your teeth dug into your flesh. Hope dies last, and it never is a pretty or peaceful death. 

“A hero, how very quaint. Say, should we torture him?”, Overhaul mused.

You screwed your eyes shut, as if you could will what was playing out to become unreality. This was all your fault in a way, and that made this all the worse. If only you could convince yourself to move, then maybe you could save him. However, you were too paralysed with fear, or you were too selfish to do so. 

"Do we really have the time for that? As much as I would like to see the one that took our darling (name) away from us, 

I would prefer to have them in my arms already", Chrono remarked. 

A huff and then the rustle of fabric. It was very clear to you by now that Chisaki was annoyed and furious and that letting his anger out on the hero would very much a viable option for him at the moment. From everything that Chisaki had shown you about himself, he was the type to bottle his rage behind formality and ambition and transmutate it into a drive to fulfill his goal. Until it would all become too much and he would explode. Then blood would paint the walls and people would die or be mutilated. 

"Look in the storage closet behind the door."

The words barely registered when the door was already ripped open and a hand shot forwards to wrap itself around your wrist. You kicked and yelled and attempted to 

bite with, just in the face of your aggression the man simply fisted your hair with his other hand. The pain caused you to scream and he used the moment to force you to tilt your head back. You were then dragged out of your hiding place by the hand on your wrist; the one on the back of your head forced you to comply and not move a centimetre out of line. 

You were brought to the middle of the living room next to the couch. Teru was sprawled next to the coffee table, the miniscule movements that he was making sluggish. 

The wonderful effects of Chronostasis. The man behind you shifted to release your wrist and then curled his arm around your waist. Kai regarded you with sardonic amusement. The skin around his eyes crinkled to crows feet. 

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?", he inquired mockingly. 

Your thoughts were now racing a thousand miles a minute and that was when something extraordinarily stupid came to mind. You didn't waste any time musing if it was a good move or not, because there was no moment like the present. Briefly, you allowed yourself to sag forward in mock defeat. You didn't plan on speaking - what was there to say that you hadn't said in the beginning? Anything that came to mind was corny or pathetic and you didn't want to say anything that would diminish yourself in their eyes any further. Besides, your throat ached from the stress your body had to go through in these short minutes. 

However, there was one thing you wanted to give off your chest: 

"Go to hell, both of you."

With that, you threw yourself backwards and upwards. There was the satisfying crack as your head met his nose, and crushed the already damaged cartilage. Kurono swore and from the corner of your eyes you noticed Kai jerk forwards. For a precious few moments, the vice grip on you loosened and you attempted to rip yourself out of his arms. 

You failed. While you managed to tear free, he caught you almost immediately. One hand grabbed your hair again, and reeled you back with you letting out small yelps of agony. 

When you were next to him he took his mask off and set it on the armrest next to him. Blood was running down his face, past his lips and was already staining the collar of his off-white coat. 

"I say that our little poppet should learn the price of running away, yes?", Hari suggested, rubbing his nose were you had slammed your head into it. The white glove came away smeared with blood. The already swollen flesh around his nose had taken on a blue-purple tinge. He gave you nasty smile, something very unusual for him given how passive and laid-back he tended to be. Injuring him had evidently crossed a line. 

"Of course. Don't you want me to see to your nose first, however. It looks pretty bad", Chisaki asked. 

His eyes filtered over the injury before landing on you. A vein popped in his forehead and the beginnings of hives were discolouring his skin. That matched with the glare he gave you made you flinch. Not only had you forced him to enter a hero's house, you had also injured his friend and your other lover. With Kurono's tendency to dote on  you, he had probably tasked him with taking care of you. The assumption had most likely been that you wouldn't dare harming Hari. 

Whenever Kai had been frustrated or absolutely strict, Hari had usually stepped in to act as a buffer. You owed one Hari Kurono much of your sanity. Because of that, you had gone to great pains to remain in his good graces. And suddenly, you had thrown all of that into the fire. 

"It is worse than it looks. Let us finish up here and then head back to the compound. We can do all the medical stuff there", was the response. There was some shuffling as he put his mask back on again. Then, he stepped behind you again and proceeded to restrain you in a full Nelson. 

Kai shrugged, an awkward move with that trademark bomber jacket that he was still wearing. He peeled the gloves on his left hand off and bent down. 

Kurono lowered his head so that his mouth was level with your ear. 

"Behave now. It could be worse; I could tell Kai about the things you told me about your time in highschool", he threatened. With hopeless eyes and a hand on your jaw, you were forced to witness an execution. 

Chisaki only touched Teru with the very tip of his finger, yet that was enough to activate Overhaul. The supine body exploded outwards in a whirl of blood and guts and bones. Your abductor stood in the middle, a wicked sorcerer of his own design, and stared thoughtfully at the churning mass of gore. 

Kurono tightened his grip around you as you started to squirm more relentlessly. It was far too late Teru, yet that didn't dampen the desperation and sadness that screamed at you to come to his aid. 

“Calm down, you will only injure yourself”, the man cautioned you. “Don't waste your tears and your heart on that filth when you have Kai and me.”

Finally, Kai came to a conclusion. The maelstrom of human tissue imploded, and next to Overhaul there was the dead body of Canine Instinct. His eyes were open, and skin already deathly pale. It looked like he had been dead for some time now. While you weren't an expert, it appeared as if rigor mortis was already in its final stages. 

"Doesn't look like much. I though you wanted to burn the house down to remove any and all evidence?", Chrono inquired. 

Overhaul shook his head at that. The corpse was given a firm kick and then the Yakuza head made his way over to the two of you. He fished a lone glove out of his jacket pocket and with sure gestures put it on. His yellow eyes remained on you the whole time, as if the answer was actually meant for you: 

"I've changed my mind. Let us give the heroes a mystery to throw them off our trail. I've altered our dear friend here so that all medical examinations will find him to have been dead for a long time already. What I granted was a peaceful death, much more than a hopeless case like him would have deserved."

He stopped right in front of you, the tip of his mask nearly scratched your cheek. What a sight you must have been - eyes glassy and wide blown, your mouth half open as you panted and the veins of your neck prominent. You opened your mouth and not a sound came out. 

"It is your fault, you know", he pointed out. One gloved hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ghosted over your cheek bone. "You forced my hand. If you hadn't run away, then nobody would have had to die because of you. Count yourself lucky that there aren't more corpses."

With that, he marched past the two of you in the direction of the front door. Chronostasis pushed you into moving and you shuffled along, dazed by what had happened.

 On the way past the couch, he snatched the blanket and pressed it to your chest. Wordlessly, you accepted it and undid the bundle with shaking hands. The adrenaline rush was subsiding, and you felt like a passenger in your own body. 

When you took too long to wrap yourself up, Kurono ripped the blanket from your hands and with deft movements tucked the fabric underneath your arms and rolled you up in it. Strong hands lifted you up, and once he was carrying you bridal style he followed his best friend. You found Overhaul by the closed door, waiting for you. As soon as you were by him, he opened it. 

It was snowing outside now. Thick white flakes drifted from the heavens to settle in a seamless blanket on the ground. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.

There was nobody in sight, and the snow dampened all sounds. Grief weighed heavy in your heart, and fear stayed your tongue. Kurouno’s bodily warmth was a bittersweet comfort, and you leaned into you despite what he had done earlier. There would no doubt be bruises tomorrow. Next to you, Overhaul sighed once more, as if this was all such a tedious chore. 

“So much for just light snowfall. Our kitty will be too cold to bathe immediately when we get home”, Kai lamented. Your heart clenched at the pet name he used for you. 

Hari shifted you in his gasp and added to the conversation:

“We can still get rid of the clothing and pump their stomach until they are warm enough. Perhaps we should also replenish their electrolytes and scrub their skin before washing. Leaving them alone when they are so emotionally fragile like this would only be detrimental. This sweetheart here needs to be comforted, and brought back on the right path with the carrot and the stick.”

“You are right at that. Let us go now and fast. I don’t want to waste anymore time at this disgusting place.”

Your story was a fairy tale in ways, yet it was one of the older, gruesome ones, where a happy ending was anything but guaranteed.

[criminallyyoursvn]

Criminally Yours

"Criminally Yours" is a superhero themed visual novel submitted for Yandere Jam 2025. You play as "Oracle" a local superhero who also balances a 9-5 office job. You have a crush on your coworker Nikolaos who just happens to also have a double life, as the villain you hate "Chronos".

Choose your name and pronouns as well as make many flavorful choices to establish your role. And some eventual impactful ones...

Enjoy a super comic themed game, paired with an incredibly jazzy original OST.

And enjoy the romantic roller coaster between yourself and Nikolaos/Chronos!

Play for free in its entirety here on Itch.io!

[keenvictory]

Synopsis: Sometimes the best way to distract a villain is with a little more than a witty chat.

: ̗̀➛ Featured Characters: Chronos x Gn!Reader

̗̀➛ Content Warnings: NSFW, (bottom, but not necessarily sub, reader)

̗̀➛  Additional notes: Me? Obsessed with a beautiful, evil blonde man? Yeah.

Ten minutes. All you had to do was keep him distracted for ten minutes.

You'd seen it clear as day this morning, if he managed to escape this room, a shitty warehouse somewhere in the city center, the hostages would die.

Nevermind that the 'hostages' were all low-level villains that had been bothering you for weeks, they weren't in their costumes, neither the public, nor the media, would know it as anything other then civilian deaths.

You'd already sent the brunt of the force towards the second location, if you could hold his attention for just ten minutes, everything would be okay.

Nobody would die. And more importantly, your reputation would be saved.

Chronos stood in the rooms center, illuminated by a single, shitty bulb.

"Come now, Oracle." He purred through the mask, the metallic tinge making your body tense. "Don't get distracted."

Right. Focus. Nine more minutes.

"I am focused. You're not getting away this time."

He'd grin if he could. You can tell in the way he sets his shoulders, the slight chuckle the mask can't quite filter out.

He takes a step back, shaking his head.

"I hate to disappoint you. But I most certainly am."

Shit. Wrong approach. He can't back away. He can't get away.

You need to lure him in closer.

He turns, angling his body away from you, looking for an escape?

"Wait!"

He stops. Despite it all, he stops to hear you out. Why does he do that?

"What? Hate to see me leave but love to watch me walk away, hm?"

Again with the flirting! Always flirting. It drives you up the wall.

But... maybe... There's nobody around but the two of you...

"You're wearing a coat. What is there for me to see when you leave?"

He tilts his head. You can feel his eyes boring into you.

"I can take it off."

"You wouldn't. Your suit is ridiculously tight. You wouldn't..."

You trail off, floundering, why is this working?!

"I wouldn't show it off for you? Hah! Why do you suppose I designed my suit like this in the first place?"

He drags a hand down his chest, gloved fingers trailing over defined abs. "I don't dress like this for the public, you know."

Eight minutes. Time feels like it's dragging on.

"You dress like that just for me, then? Prove it."

Chronos' hand stops. Shocked? Repulsed?

Then he grabs the jackets lapel, slowly pulling it off his tall frame.

He drops it to the ground next to him unceremoniously.

You swallow.

"How's that for proof?"

He strikes a pose. Lifting his arms to show off his waist. It's a little dorky. A smile creeps up on your face before you have the chance to fight it.

It's a little... something else, too. But you won't think like that. You can't.

"I don't know. Just taking off a jacket doesn't feel very personal. You could do that for anyone."

He takes a step towards you and you have to fight to calm your racing heart. This is good. Just seven more minutes.

"Now, now Oracle. That feels like you're baiting me to take off my mask. And we can't be having that, can we?"

You roll your eyes, he was the one who said it, not you.

"Scared I won't like what I find?"

For once, he doesn't seem to have a witty retort. But he takes another step forward, coming ever closer.

This is good. Great, even! You just need to keep him entertained.

"You know, Chronos. There's a lot more to your suit then just your mask."

That gets his attention. He pauses, motionless.

What catches your eye isn't your fault. It's his fault, really, with his stupid skin-tight suit. And the tent in his pants is so obnoxiously obvious.

You do the polite thing, averting your eyes, not that he can really tell through your mask. Not that he even particularly seems to care.

You'd meant, like, gloves or something! Maybe some of those stupid belts he wraps around his torso.

You didn't mean... well... did you mean... that? It would be... a distraction.

How many minutes do you have left? You've lost count.

After an excruciatingly long pause, he seems to find his tongue again.

"You should watch your words, Oracle. There's... interesting implications there."

You can't help but laugh. What use is there in beating around the bush like that when he's hard as a rock and basically vibrating where he stands.

"Implications? You're one to talk. Your... reaction, down-there, speaks louder than words."

He glances downward, as if he hadn't noticed. Then clenches, and unclenches his fist. An exercise in self-restraint, maybe?

"Ah." Is all he mumbles, before glancing back up at you. He clenches and unclenches his fists again, and then shrugs. "At least we chose a place without any cameras around. If this made a front page story I doubt either of us would live it down."

He leans down to scoop up his coat. How much time has passed? Not enough, surely.

"Leaving so soon?"

He hesitates, one hand nested in the material of his coat.

"You want me to stay?"

For the good of the people, if nothing else.

"Just seems like a... waste."

He straightens up, tilting his head curiously. It's so hard to read him, his expressionless mask not letting anything slip.

Then he places a hand, tentatively, on his belt buckle.

"A waste... of this?"

Are you doing this? To save a handful of hostages who you don't especially care about the safety of at the best of times?

"It's like you said. No cameras."

You're doing this. You hope those fuckers appreciate it.

"You're... serious? If this is your attempts at unmasking me, it's an underhanded tactic."

You shrug, trying to keep it casual despite your racing heart. Your mother can NOT find out about this.

"We can leave the masks on. This is between us, as hero and villain. Not whoever our real selves are."

He stills seems unsure, so you suck in a breath and step towards him, poking a finger against his chest.

In the past, he's dodged so many of your attacks so effortlessly. You almost expect him to breezily step out of your touch, but your finger simply bounces against the muscle.

"You've made plenty of advance at me in the past. I hope they weren't just for show."

He swallows. You're close enough that you can see his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. It makes you feel...

Nothing. It makes you feel nothing. There is no slight shiver that passes through you. No warmth between your thighs. This is work. Not pleasure.

He laughs, warm and metallic, and places a large hand against your waist. It isn't unpleasant. His thumb gliding across the material of your suit.

"There are much better suited places for this then a dingy warehouse, Oracle."

While the idea of fucking against a dirty warehouse floor like a bunch of animals is not exactly appealing, letting him leave the building at all is out of the cards.

"What, you're going to take me back to your place? Yeah right."

"The least I could do is a nice hotel."

Ugh, a hotel would be nice. A comfy bed, room service after, somewhere to sleep off the weirdness of it all and freshen up before the walk of shame home.

The warehouse will have to do. Fucking hostages.

You wrap your fingers around his belt loops, teasingly.

"And if I told you I didn't want to wait?"

He groans, it's a sound you're about to get incredibly familiar with. Future fights with this fucker are definitely going to get interesting.

"Fuck."

He uses his grasp on your waist to tug you closer, pinning your bodies together. Then he pushes his crotch against your side, rolling his hips to grind into you. It can't feel all that good behind several layers of fabric, but you suppose it is pretty skin-tight.

He groans again, right in your ear, loud and unrestrained. It's nicer sounding then the sirens outside, at least.

"You're so needy. All that talk about taking me a hotel when you're the one who couldn't wait."

Chronos whines, masked face buried into your shoulder as he rolls his hips more desperately. If you stood here, sweet-talking him, you're pretty sure you could get him to cum where he stands, right in his suit.

But where's the fun in that? If you're sinking this low, you're at least getting off too.

"If you're just going to stand there and get yourself off, Chronos, I might as well go home."

His needy whines turn into a throaty growl, his gentle grip on your waist becoming delightfully dangerous as you feel his nails catch in the suit's material.

If he rips a hole in your suit he is a dead man.

Thankfully, his grip relaxes. But only for a moment, as slides his other hand around your waist, and lifts you up, carrying you across the room with ease, and urgency.

A shock of cold goes through you as he drops you on a metal container, perched right on the edge so your legs dangle down.

You can hear his heavy breathing through the mask, as he glances down at you, like he's deciding what he wants to do first.

Then, without a word, he sinks to his knees, pushing your legs apart and laughing breathily.

He taps his metal mask, twice.

"No peaking."

You tilt your head up, half out of politeness, half necessity. If you break the rules, nothings stopping him from ripping your mask off at this distance.

"At least when you take off your mask I won't have to listen to your prattling on."

"Still swapping insults at a time like this, Oracle? No matter. I have much better things to do with my mouth."

At the thought of ripping, you hear the distinct sound of fabric tearing, then a cool breeze caressing the inner-most curves of your thigh.

This motherfucker.

You don't even have time to gasp, nor raise a very reasonable complaint, before you hear him happily hum.

"I'll pay for it."

Then the click of metal, as you can only assume he pushes his mask up his face, freeing his mouth for... other activities.

You sneak a glance downwards as he buries his head between your thighs, but all you can see is a mop of blonde hair pushed messily back by his shifted mask. Worth a shot.

After that, you don't have the time, nor the mental fortitude to scheme, his tongue working hard to distract you from thoughts of hero's and villains.

It's a fight not to clamp your thighs around his head, an excellent position to squeeze the life out of him, but you're a little distracted. And it's not a great story to sell to the media.

Moans, both yours and his own, bounce off the run-down walls. If anything, his moans are almost louder than yours, moaning passionately against you with every spare breath he manages to take.

Air seems like the last thing on his mind. He'll choke himself out, at this rate. Desperately hungry for you. You decide not to think about it.

Instead you tilt your head back, basking in the rolling, sweeping pleasure of his tongue in all the right spots.

And it builds, and builds, and builds, and sudden the sweet waves you've been leisurely riding feel too close to breaking. You don't gently climb to orgasm as much as you hurtle towards it.

"Chronos, wait I-"

But it's like uttering his name flips an evil switch in his mind, and he burrows closer, hands gripping at your thighs for purchase so desperately his nails drag open little holes in your suit.

The waves break, and all you have the strength to do is slump forward, hands nesting in his hair, grabbing on for dear life, as you ride out your high on his face.

Not that he seems to mind, the way his hips are bucking into thin air, just as desperately.

When he finally pulls away, he manages to keep his face pointed downwards, identity secure, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. Before adjusting the mask back over his face.

Then he stands, looming above you as you sit, still slightly quivering, upon the metal box he set you on.

"I hope you don't think we're done here." He purrs, clicking open his belt with practiced ease.

Thank god for superhero stamina.

He slinks out of his pants, leaving them abandoned in a heap much like his jacket.

He rubs the head of his cock against your bare thigh, trailing pre-cum across your skin. He hisses with pure pleasure, both at the sight and the sensation.

"Hope you don't mind that I'm a little... unprepared. A little lube, a condom or two, could have gone a long way. I'll be more prepared next time."

"You think there's going to be a next time?"

He scoops up the cum on your thighs and slicks his fingers with it, pushing them against your entrance with far too much eagerness.

"Oh Oracle, you'll be weak in the knees at the sight of me after I'm done with you. I can guarantee a next time."

"Mmm... you're so cocky."

He chuckles, nudging the tip of his hard cock against your groin, sliding it against the slick opening as he retracts his fingers.

"I have good reason to be, clearly."

You go to refute, but your mind blanks as he pushes into you. Two inches, then four, then six, then further still, until his hips brush against yours. The moan that escapes him is unholy.

"Fuck. I'm going to be weak in the knees after this." He groans, right into your ear. The metal of his mask is cold as it brushes against your neck.

Absently, you wish his mouth was free to kiss it. From the way he's eyeing it and breathing heavily, you think he does too.

"Are you... in any pain?" He asks, a rare moment of pure consideration.

You adjust yourself, flex your insides to test the depth, the pressure. It's... a lot. Filling, certainly. And you have to bite back a small moan as you really relax against him.

But it doesn't hurt. And after a pause to catch your breath, you nod.

"I'm... good. It's good. Thanks."

"Just good? I'll have to do a better job then that."

He punctuates his sentence with a smooth roll of his hips, the length of his cock gliding out, then filling you up all over again. It's unbearably slow, the temptation to shuffle closer, to wrap your legs around his hips and trap him there, taunts you.

"You'll have... to do a little more... then that." You pant, gripping the sides of the metal container you're perched on for support.

"Oh? You want more?" He purrs, sliding out of you so slowly. And then he pauses, the two of you connected only by the very tip, a twitch away from sliding out entirely.

He's going to say something terrible, isn't he?

"Say please."

You called it.

Your eye twitches. You don't know what's bigger, his ego or his dick.

Definitely his ego.

He's lucky you can't say the same for yourself. You're not above basic manners. But you're not above a little bullying, either.

You lean as close as you can despite the distance, wrapping your arms around his neck, and whisper into his ear.

"Chronos... please just fuck me already."

You can almost hear the thread of tension in his body, snap. The eradication of his self-restraint.

He doesn't have anything witty to say, after that.

His hips snap forward with such strength that you tumble back, losing your grip on him as you lay down flat on the container. The new angle let's him push into you even further, and you both moan in delight.

He looms over you, every thrust punctuated with soft, needy moans.

You reach up, running your hands through his blonde hair. It would easy, to simple pull off his mask, see his real face looking down at you.

Would he be blushing? Smiling? Or would he have a more focused look... Your mind wanders. But it's almost more fun if you don't know.

Instead your fingers grip the strands, pulling slightly as he hits a particularly delicious angle. You both moan in equal surprise and debased pleasure.

There's a moment of pause, as you consider these new found techniques. And then you resume, with twice as much passion as before.

Him chasing that angle over and over, crashing into the spot that makes you shiver and buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. You pulling at his hair, and running your nails down his back, enjoying the throaty groans it elicits each and every time.

It isn't long before the feeling returns, waves of pleasure building and building and building inside you.

"Ah, fuck, I'm gonna cum Chronos-"

You don't even finish the final syllable of his name, before he's crashing his hips into you, warmth flooding you as he cums with a long, growl-like moan.

Your own orgasm follows but a second later, his orgasm hasn't slowed him down, if anything he seems to be chasing the afterglow. The uptick in speed pushing you tumbling over the metaphorical edge.

You both lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. Those ten minutes have to be up by now, right? Time to make a strategic exit to check on the hostages. Well, maybe after you've gotten your breath back.

You shift up, propping yourself up on your elbows. His head is bowed, his cock still buried inside you. But he'll pull out any second now, right?

Then he looks up. Slowly. Despite the mask, you can feel his shit-eating grin.

"I'm not done with you yet, Oracle."

When you stumble out the warehouse, only one lone officer remains on the scene. He gives you a questioning look, and you feel yourself flush, thankful for the mask all over again.

"The hostages are safe, Oracle, thanks for your help. But, uh, you know only had to keep him in there for ten minutes right? It's been..." The officer checks his watch, and then frowns. "Hours. Are you alright?"

You adjust Chronos' cloak, which is wrapped around your middle for privacy.

"It was a tough... fight. But I dealt some serious blows. Managed to snag his coat before he escaped."

"Great work! We could take it in for testing if you'd like."

"Ah, uh, no need! I'll do my own... uh... super testing! See if it triggers a vision.”

It's a terrible excuse. But thankfully, the officer seems stupid. Or maybe tired, it is late. But either way, he nods. And waves you goodbye as he packs himself away into his car.

Now to figure out how to get home without any camera's catching you... indisposed.

The next morning, there's a generous donation to your bank account, from a suspiciously anonymous donor. Enough to cover the expenses of your torn suit, and then some.

It's signed only with a C. Cocky bastard.

[xjulixred45x]

I just have a BRAINRIOT and i thog of two diferent Angst/Yandere-esque Scenarios for Zagreus x Reader in Hades 2

1-based on a fanart of @artsicfox with a Corrupted Zagreus in Chronos Army.

Zagreus sees EVERY treat as Chronos, but Reader is not a treat, so is the only person he sees as themselfs.

For one side, Reader is so happy that Zagreus is alive and as good as could posible be in the situation, Even if he kind of acts like a mummy and has gone trough so much. Reader wants to stick besides him, he is still their lover SOMEWHERE.

But in the other Hand, it's so heartbreaking seeing Zagreus fight the people who wants to HELP him, His family, His Friends, His allies. And Reader can't do ANYTHING about it (Zag would't allow it, be it by keeping them away from the battles or in His Chambers, and he dosen't really understand what they're saying when they try to explain that what he's seeing it's NOT REAL).

The only thing Reader can do in this Scenario is tell His enemies/allies turn enemies that he just dosen't know what he's doing. That it's not His fault. It's Chronos.

2- Zagreus sides with Chronos "WILINGLY".

This is most likely with a human partner. Imagine Zagreus going trough the same treatment as Hades, but Chronos gives him an offer, his services as a fighter in exchange for the safety and well-being of his mortal lover.

It's something like they did with Prometeus. Zagreus obviously it's just doing it for the sake of His lover and His family, but dosen't Even know how much this hurts Mel, Hades and most of all His lover.

Of course Reader has a good life under Chronos protection, but it's also bc they are a leverage. What keeps Zagreus willing.

Zagreus can either become full yandere and try to keep Reader away from everything bc of his paranoia for Chronos.

Or in the better case, Reader can get away to the Surface where Zagreus checks on them dially (or Even they can get to the camp of Hécate meanwhile Zagreus stays with Chronos. Just temporally solutions until Chronos finds them).

This could also lead to a "Would You Fall in Love With Me Again" moment with Zagreus and Reader when all is over. Bc after all he has done at this point he is so afraid that Reader despistes him. But Reader just sees the man who has done all those thing to be togheter again, the man they fall in love with. (At least this one has a happy Ending).

What do You guys think?

[gendachocolate]

.˚ ✦ · (ゝ。∂)ﾉ ⌗gᥱᥒძᥲᥴһ᥆ᥴ᥆ᥣᥲ𝗍ᥱ ᵕ ｡ ̫🍵˳ 𝅄

𐚁 ˖࣪ Ꮺ ,, midori multiverse is real! yipyipsies! " 𑄾 ∘ ✧ °

꒰ 🍏 ° ˖ ໑ 𝖿ᥣᥲᥒ ᥲძძs ;; midori and midorikawa, this was so funky to draw im sooo happy how it turned out, so happy, so satisfied ও ° ❀ ˚ ⊹ 🌱

╰ ︵︵ ˚ ⊹ ୨୧ ⊹ ˚ ︵︵

[sabotsen]

Fragment - 21 - T1004

Pairing: Lee x Commandant/Reader

Notes: Set during Ch21 Spiral of Chronos & contains spoilers. Cross posted to ao3 bc I hate the paragraph formatting here. Word Count 3.6k.

Warnings: Subtle Jealousy and possessiveness. Brief mention of character death and panic attack.

This is a secret Santa gift for @yandere-yearnings. I love you Dar!!! Happy holidays. I hope this knife stabs you lovingly.

Emotions cannot be compressed into numbers, not in a way that does them justice.

The depth, the weight, the agony of them cannot be expressed in binary. There is simply too much — too little — to account for them in calculations. 

He knows this. 

Honestly, he would like to think himself rational enough to follow through his calculations without the influence of emotions altering the numbers. In most situations, that assessment would be correct. His measurements, calculations, predictions are all precision sharpened to a lethal bullet aimed with perfect trajectory. He is a machine, built for war and numbers. He is a soldier, eliminating obstacles for the best calculated result. 

But Gray Raven is not a factor that can be compressed into simple numbers and figures. You, in all your stubbornness and kindness, are not measurable no matter what calculations and equations he uses. 

Your smile makes him happy — flustered, even — and your laughter rings in his head for days, leaving no room for even the shortest string of binary. Your touch is a warmth, a fire, that burns away every equation he knew by breath. Your voice is a melody that drowns out every calculated plan on the tip of his tongue. Your mere presence — the steady guiding light of your M.I.N.D. beacon — pieces him together so gently, more human than machine. 

It’s a terrifying thing — to be stitched together so lovingly, to feel the weight of emotions more than the unchanging shape of numbers. It’s a foolish thing — to think of himself as a person and not a machine, a tool, a number in the data string. 

He loves you for it. He fears you for it. 

Because you make him more. Because you make him undefined. 

But he does not change. Because it’s him.

So here he remains. Trapped in a Möbius loop. Because it’s you. 

Lee is rational. 

He is not one to be swept into fleeting emotions. Reacting on impulse often leads to more messes and headaches. There is a logical explanation for everything. 

He knows this. He knows this. 

But there’s something about the sight before him that makes his jaw clench until metal grinds against metal. 

Maybe it’s the way your frame seems even smaller than usual as you kneel with one knee pressed against the floor, a sniper rifle that is not your own within your hands. Maybe it’s the way Wanshi curves against you, the white of his hair and outfit a stark contrast to the soft grays of your Gray Raven uniform as he embraces you like sea foam does the ocean waters. Maybe it’s the way you tilt your head just slightly towards him, his voice soft as he speaks. Maybe it’s the sharp glint in Wanshi’s golden gaze flitting over your shoulder as he notices Lee in the doorway.  Maybe it’s the smile upon Wanshi’s lips, the silent glee of a hawk with prized prey, as he bows his head and nearly brushes his lips against your ear.  Maybe it’s the way his hands drift over yours, adjusting your hold, then drift to ghost over your hips and shoulders, lingering just a little too long to merely correct your posture.

Maybe it’s all of them at once. 

It’s an ugly thing that flares to life in the metal confines of his chest, writhing and clawing at the cage of his ribs. It’s an ugly thing that spurs him into the shooting range, jaw clenched and fingers digging into his palms firmly enough to scrape metal against metal. 

He knows the name of it.

But Lee isn’t one to act on emotions. He has to be rational. He has to be level-headed. Someone has to be in order to keep Gray Raven out of trouble. 

But even so. 

It’s an ugly thing that rattles in his chest and claws up his throat. He tastes it on the back of his tongue as he steps up behind you.

“Commandant.”

He feels it burn like acid against his skin when golden eyes lock with his over your shoulder and Wanshi’s fingertips brush against the nape of your neck. 

He feels it oozing, seeping like blood at his feet, lapping at the edges of your clothes as you kneel upon the ground and finally, finally turn your attention up to him. 

Your smile is soft, gentle and welcoming as always. “Lee. Are you here to hide from Asimov for a while?” 

Lee frowns slightly, his brow furrowed. “Please don’t lump me in with you, Commandant.” 

You have no idea, do you? 

You laugh — a beautiful sound that soothes the ache in his chest only as you lean back, posture relaxing and Wanshi naturally shifting just a breath away. It’s still too close, in Lee’s opinion. There’s a burning in his fingertips, a twist in his wires that urges him to pry you free from the hawk’s talons. If it’s shooting advice you need, isn’t he enough? Do you doubt his skills? Or is he not close enough to you for you to ask such a thing of him? Has he done something, said something, or missed some sort of subtle hint that forced you to go to Wanshi instead? 

It’s an ugly thing that burns in his chest and drips like acid from his tongue. But he swallows it back. He is made of metal and numbers. 

Lee sighs, his voice steady as it always is — he forces it to be. “Did you forget?” 

You blink, head tilted slightly to the side and your silence is his answer. 

He tries to ignore the way Wanshi tilts his head ever so subtly in the same direction and the way the hawk’s hands still linger on your shoulders. 

“You’re going to be late to the meeting. Celica asked me to be sure you didn’t forget or run off to hide again.” 

“Ah.” The color momentarily drains from your face, lips twisting in a blanch. The butt of the rifle drifts down, away from the cradle of your shoulder as you set it down and look every bit the image of a cat grabbed by the scruff. “It wasn’t on purpose,” you mutter, “I really did forget.” 

If it weren’t for the hawk still pressed against your side, perhaps Lee would have smiled that small, subtle one you know him for. The one that vanishes if you pay it too much attention, fading like light refraction shifting rainbow hues to common daylight — a lasting secret only if you cradle it just right. 

But he does not smile as he shakes his head in exasperation and gently places his hand on your elbow. “Let’s go, unless you really want to be in trouble.” 

His movements are gentle as his hand on your arm guides you up, but his gaze is sharp and pointed on the hawk whose touch lingers too long as you move away to stand. 

That golden gaze only softens when you turn your head to Wanshi, that familiar somewhat sleepy expression splayed across his features as if it had always been there. As if a sleepy owl is all he has ever been and ever will be. 

“Sorry to run, Wanshi. Thanks for your time,” your voice is friendly as always, unaware, as you hand the rifle back to the Strike Hawk. 

Wanshi merely smiles softly and waves his free hand. “Take care, Commandant.” Golden eyes shift, just for a moment to glance over your shoulder at Lee before lazily gliding back to your face. His smile sharpens in the corners, too soft and subtle perhaps for you to notice — but Lee does. “You know where to find me.” 

Lee scowls, his hand on your elbow shifting and anchoring onto your shoulder. It is pure restraint that keeps him from digging his fingers into the folds of your clothes, and you merely take his gesture as a silent hint to keep moving — something innocent and friendly. So you let him coax you away by the shoulders as you offer a small farewell and final thanks to Wanshi and leave the room. He should be grateful you see his actions in such a light rather than for what they truly are. But that ugly feeling in his chest wails and mourns that you do not see through his act. 

Just before the door slides shut, Lee casts one last look over your shoulder to the construct who remained sitting where you left him. That sleepy expression is gone, replaced by something too patient and cold, too sharp and predatory as it follows your back. Wanshi smiles, the shape of it upon his lips every bit the silent threat — the promise — of a hawk’s shadow brushing over a rabbit. The cold metal of the door slides shut, separating you from the Hawk perched and waiting. 

It is only after he has guided you down the empty hallway far enough away from the shooting range for his nerves to settle that he realizes the weight of your gaze on him. You’re burning a hole through the side of his face and by the press of your lips he can tell you’re thinking something — worrying about something. His arm across your back slips away, his touch drifting down to your elbow in a soft brush — easily avoided. But you don’t. You allow the soft, ghost’s touch of his fingers against you. 

“What.” He’s frowning. He knows he is. 

You’ve known him long enough by now not to be deterred by his blunt speech or soured expression. If anything, perhaps you find comfort in it — familiarity in the easy banter you’ve developed with him and his dry humor. But there is thoughtful caution as you watch him now and he traces even the smallest movements in your gaze as you observe him. 

“I don’t have a meeting with Celica today.” 

There’s a note in your voice, subtle and easily missed. Light and almost airy — it’s the soft smile hidden in your voice that doesn’t play upon your lips. 

That tone is the only reason his reply is as blunt and dry as any other common conversation, “Gray Raven is truly in dire straits if our Commandant is suffering memory loss so early in age.” 

You laugh, a hand rising to hide the bright smile he adores. You have a bad habit of doing that — tucking smiles and laughter behind your hands as if they are stolen burdens not meant to trouble others. Perhaps the war has done that to you, or maybe it was something else — the cruel words of others. He never did narrow down the origin, as you’ve had that habit since the day he met you. 

You should smile more, he thinks, as your hand falls away from your lips and the small hint of a smile remains. It’s the same one that plays upon your lips whenever he brushes off his flustered expression as his cooling system failing. But just like those moments, you do not call him on his bluff. 

Instead, your hand shifts and taps his that still lingered on your elbow. “How are you holding up?” The worry in your voice is evident despite the light cheer you try to hide it behind. “We haven’t seen you lately. I know you like to keep busy but you’re not allowed to pick up Asimov’s workaholic tendencies.” 

Lee tilts his head to the side, his frown softening a fraction but his brow furrows even more. “Do you not read the reports I send?” 

“I read them, but that’s not what I asked.” Your hand on his shifts, interlacing your fingers together and if he were still made of flesh and bone perhaps you would have felt the way his heart would have stumbled, the way his fingers would have trembled. But he is made of metal and numbers, and he is still as the warmth of your hand sinks into his. “Are you alright, Lee?” 

That ugly ache in his chest finally settles, soothed by your touch, but his thoughts tumble over each other in a silent maelstrom. His gaze falls to your hand in his, the way the softness of your touch contrasts so cruelly with the hard metal of him. What is there to say in this situation? Progress is being made on the specialized frame, everything necessary to know is logged within the reports you receive daily. So why are you asking? Why are you worried? 

He won’t fail you or Gray Raven. Never. 

The only thing stopping him from fully syncing with the frame is just those— 

“Lee?” 

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts and he feels the way your hand squeezes his gently. He hears the concern in your tone, feels it brush against him like the warmth of a blanket —  cozy in its familiarity, even if it is foolish. Carefully, he returns the gesture, ever mindful of his strength. But as he lifts his gaze up to your face, his breath catches in the metal of his lungs. 

Red.

The hallway engulfed in red and black — scorched and burning. Smoke curls and spills from the warped, gaping doorways on the right, billowing up and crawling through the broken ceiling above. On his left is an opening in the wall that frames a hellscape beyond — the earth molten and burning, shimmering in the blazing heat as the roar of flames nearly drowns out the screams and wails, human and metal alike. The sky above, once blue and freckled with stars, is now shrouded by the gray billows of smoke and ash. 

Grounded. Ruined. Burning. 

When did they fall? How could Babylonia, the cradle of humanity, have fallen? 

His hands shake.

Something’s wrong.

Information pours into him, drowning him — the swell of the ocean crashing into a man lost and dehydrated in the desert. 

He sees the figures of soldiers — constructs — fighting off in the distance. But it is not the corrupted they turn their guns upon. In the smoke and flames, he sees humans. He hears their screams, despite the distance — despite the fire roaring around him. He sees the constructs fall upon each other when the fire and wounds claim the humans. He sees them burn and melt in the heat, sees the way they tear their own limbs from their bodies and the arc of sparks that sparkle in the smoke like mournful stars. 

Something in his hand pulls upon him— too soft, too gentle, too delicate for this hell. 

“Lee!” 

Your voice cuts through the smoke and ash to pull his attention back. 

His gaze snaps from the sprawling burning battlefield to your hands on his then up to your face. But the sight of you crushes the metal ribs in his chest. Blood. Blood trails from your nose and dots the corners of your eyes like ruby tears. A dried trail of blood lingers in the corner of your mouth, lips too pale despite the crimson that stains them. Your vitals aren’t showing in the corner of his vision and panic spikes in his chest. 

The virus. 

It’s the virus. 

You’re ill. 

You’re hurt. 

His hands fly to your face to wipe the corners of your eyes, to your neck to find your pulse. 

It’s fine. It’ll be fine. 

Liv. Where is Liv? 

He has to get you to her. 

Serums. 

You need serums. 

Lee doesn’t hear the way you call his name as his hands fly to his chest, patting down his pockets. Where are the serums? He always carried some on him for you. Where…. Where are they?

Did he drop them in the crash? 

Did they shatter? 

Your hands follow in the wake of his, trying to grasp and still him, but he doesn’t notice. 

You need help. 

You can’t stay here. 

He has to —-

“Lee!” 

Your hands cradle his face, holding him in place and forcing his gaze back on you. 

Immediately, he feels the weight of your connection, the steadying link of your beacon sheltering him. A piercing headache cuts through him, pierces him like a lance straight through his head. Crippling. Agonizing. It blinds his vision and nearly brings him to his knees as a shrill sound shatters his audio modular — the dying wails of a beast, a warning call drowning out the roar of the flames. 

Your hands, the warmth of your touch, and your voice calling his name are the only things that keep him on his feet. He blinks, vision clearing as your worried expression comes into view — he feels the way your concern bleeds from you through the connection, a hint of fear rippling in the undercurrents. 

“Lee?” Your thumbs brush against his cheeks. “What happened? Are you ok?” 

Lee swallows, fingers finding purchase in the folds of your shirt. “Yeah,” he steadies himself, forces the trembling in his fingers to cease as he begins to count. Numbers, strings, data — anything to calm himself. “Just a headache.” 

“A headache?” Your tone is incredulous, a scowl on your lips as you pull his face closer to yours. 

“It happens,” is all he says. His gaze lingers in the corners of your eyes and trails down to your lips. No blood. He pries one hand from the folds of your clothes and gently wraps it around your wrist, fingers pressing lightly against your pulse. Steady, normal. Your numbers match the vitals in the corner of his vision.

You’re ok. 

You’re safe.

“Lee,” his name is a short, clipped thing. 

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulls away from your grasp and you let him, fingers lingering against his cheeks before he is out of reach. Your gaze is a heavy thing upon him as he glances to his left. The metal wall remains intact and from the narrow window outside he can see the vast  black starry expanse of space. 

There is no fire.

There is no smoke. 

“I’m fine, Commandant.” Lee takes a breath, his attention returning to you as his expression returns to the neutral calm you know him for. “They happen, now and then. It’s fine.” 

Doubt needles against the back of his mind through your connection, nibbling on the edges of him like a mouse. You don’t believe him. He doesn’t blame you. 

Lee doesn’t like the expression on your face, the way your lips turn down in a frown weighted by worry or the slight shimmer in your eyes. Your hands find his again, warm and gentle. He does not pull away as you gently tug on his arm. 

“Let’s go back to the lounge.” 

Lee does not argue. Quietly, he follows you, his hand in yours as you lead the way down the hall. 

It feels natural — 

It feels like home — 

If you lead the way, your hands on him to guide, he would follow you anywhere. Even into —

>>Memory playback paused.

>> Data corŗ̶̥̮̣̦͈̗̣̤̚ū̵͙̦̦͙̠͓̝͖̦̒̔̈̄̒p̴̢̎̈̄̂t̵͎̩͓̮͚̹̹͔̄͌̏͋͒̿̓́̄̎̓̀̆̈́̊͝i̶̧̛͙̥͖̫̹̘̤̳͎͈̜̍̒̏̔͒͐ͅơ̶̢̧̛̰̹̫̻͕͖̤̺͈͉̲͑͂̈́̃̂̅̀̿͗̅͗̃͘̕ṉ̷̢̡̛͙̙̹͚̠̲̦̞̖̤̱͗̈́̀͂͗̔̿̈́̈́̌̓͂̓͘͜͝͠ ̸̡̞͍̯̫͉̘̭̗̝̭̪͎̥̺͔̈́̄͑̐̆̾̅́͘̚f̸̧̱͎͈̣̲̣͓̖̟͎̆̏̚ơ̸̢̧̢̠̙̞̯͍̫͖̪̩̰̪̯͚̫̓͂͗̽̐̋̆̈́̒͊̊͋́͠͝u̷̝͇͍̰̜̥̣͊̍͆̈̌ņ̴̧̨̡͚͕̞̟̥͚̱̠͍̳̪́̽́͒̂͛͛̿̑̑͊͋͝͠͠ͅd̶̨͕̤̱̞̯̃̍̍̈͆̀́̽̇̿̏̽̍͛̚͠͠

>> Terminating playback. 

Thunder is the first thing he hears. 

Like the last wail of a dying man, it rumbles across the cold desolate landscape. A whale song unanswered. 

He knows it is not truly thunder, but rather the chaotic storm of information continuously flowing and merging into the center of this space, swallowed and devoured. It is the last sound made by those who came before and a warning to those who will come after. It is the sound of a body falling from the heavens, another stone constructing the Tower of Babel. 

Lee listens to it reverberate as he lingers on the last memory that flowed through him. 

How long has it been since he felt warmth — your warmth? 

Hard to say. Harder still to remember where ‘he’ originated from. Too many memories have been swallowed and merged into him, too much data compiled and stored for him to know which were originally ‘his’ and which came from ‘others’. 

What happened to you — to that version of you? 

Was it the fire that claimed you? Was it sickness? Was it age? Was it a bullet he failed to shield you from? Was it the corrupted he didn’t spot in time? Was it the Red Tide that swelled too quickly to stop?

Lee quiets.

Around him, data converges into ill begotten shapes only to crumble and shatter into streams of numbers. He feels it — in the not too distant future, in the not too far gone past — a ripple in “time”. Another version of ‘him’ who failed is falling from the Tower of Babel. 

He’s lost count of the bodies he has devoured. He’s lost count of the memories he has stored, stolen and kept. He’s lost count of the times he has failed.

The bodies pile up like stones. Brick by brick. One day he will reach the heavens. One day he will reach the top of the tower. 

He has to.He has to.

There is no other option.

Because there must be a world where you survive. There must be a future where you still exist.

Someone falls into this pitiful M.I.N.D., tucked into a corner of space and time long forgotten and overlooked. 

Another body. Another failure.

Lee sees ‘himself’ bloodied and wounded crumbled in a heap upon a shape made of data.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. A mournful wail. A warning.

Lee resigns himself once more and pulls ‘himself’ closer into the center of the storm.

He has to know what happened in that world of ‘his’. He has to learn. 

He only hopes he will see you again.

Even if only for a moment.

Even if it is only a fragment of a memory.

He misses you. 

>> Uploading dá̸̦͎̩̪̞̗̞̯̖̬̽́̏̋͝t̸̙̟͈̮̦̬͈̬̰͍͉̩͕̞͕͗͐̉̎̽̋̄̂͒͑͝a̷͉͕̘̍̀͛̇͋…̵̛̦̼̦̫̺̠͍̗͑́̎̏̽͐̐̆̎͠͝͝͝.̶̛̲͓͓̩͚̞̠͇͔̮͖̾͐̋̽̐͌̌̑͆̓̾̕ ̷̣̦͖̫̟͙̏̃̑͑̾1̴̧̛̥̱̰͚̽͒̐̀̍̀̇̄͛̾̇̎̕ͅ%̴̧̡͖̮̝̰̖̦̠̝̤̎̅̎̈́̊̌͂͜͝͝ͅ…̴̛̳͉̙̝͙͂̎͌̅ ̶̢̨̡̢̛͚̩͈̠̼̝͔̭͍3̶̛̺̖͎̂̋̈́̉̀̌̉͒͂̏̚͘̕͝%̵̨͈͉̭̟̣̟̾͑̀̓̎͛̋̀͋̀̒̎̂̽̒͋̈́.̵̡̨̗̩̱̣̯͉͓͖̹̗͐͗̌̐̄͌̈́́̋̈́̓͘.̸̢͚͈̗͍̘̂̄̀̊ ̵̧̨̜̯̗̖̱̬̭̫̬̬̳̞̤͆̏͒́̊̌͌̐̾̈̇̀̕ͅͅ

[yandereradfreaks]

Side account of @empty-brandy-bottle for yandere posting, used by our entire system

Chrono 14 idgaf who interacts tho

Treat alters as their intra ages or fuck off

Pro consent is all I'll say about our contact stance don't ask me about it please

They/it collectively

Relationship status is complex but we're poly and will specify if any specific headmate is taken and unavailable we don't do full system dating

A lot of us have different identities will probably post intros as we go and make a intro master post for who posts here when we have enogh intros done

We are radqueer and pro-ship block don't report

Any nsft will be tagged with a warning

Asks and dms are open to anyone

[unhappy-last-resort]

The Raven Who Watches (Yandere Lee: Hypperreal x GN Commandant Reader)

Warnings: Virtual stalking, secret camera, masturbating to reader while stalking them, mentions of penis (Lee), yandere behavior, reader masturbates in their sleep (no genitals mentioned for reader), some story spoilers for CH.21 Spiral of Chronos and CH.14 Imprisoned Sight. Nothing major, mostly just vague hints and implications you wouldn't get without playing through the respective chapter.

Please let me know anything I missed, or any improvements to make in the writing.

A/N: So, my power was out for a week among other things and I just wanna say thank you for reading and liking/reblogging my stuff, it genuinely made me happy to see how many people were still reading my stuff.

Also, WRITING SMUT IS HARD, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

Status: edited

The room was almost entirely silent, save for the occasional quiet clink of tools against metal and the occasional click of a terminal.

"Could the voice memos be in your voice instead?" You asked it so sweetly he felt his knees might buckle, but thankfully he managed to remain upright while snapping at you to stop making such silly requests.

Of course, that request was why he was at his desk now. He had been waiting for an excuse to make some modifications to your little robot, but thankfully he didn't need to anymore. His ever reliable Commandant made one for him, it was almost like you knew what he was going to do. The sentiment made him smile, even if the logical part of him knew very well that you were just making a mindless request. An intimate one, yes, but still nothing to get worked up over or presume you'd approve of the hobby he'd taken up recently.

"Alright..." He muttered into the dark room, setting down his tools and picking up the terminal to run some tests to make sure everything was running as intended.

He supposed he should test the voice memo function first, but frankly...as much as he loved you, this still embarrassed him, so he decided to test the other function first instead. The functions you didn't ask for and ideally wouldn't know about. The live streaming and camera functions.

Lee turned the face of the robot so it wasn't facing him and turned it on. Instantly, a small square appeared in the corner of his visual module which showed the wall the robot was looking at. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at that. Now he had to test how much delay there was between what he was seeing and what the camera was, so he picked up a pen and moved it in front of the robot. He hummed in approval before setting the pen down, there was barely any delay at all.

Next, he had to test audio capture, so he tapped the desk, nodding as it came through the feed only .03 seconds late. He did this for a little bit, getting up and tapping around his room at various distances. Assuming your room is only a little bigger than his, he should be able to hear you anywhere in the room, including your bed.

Of course, this function was most entirely for him rather than you, but it's not like this wouldn't be useful to you either. For example, if you get in an accident in your room and can't call for help, like falling in the shower, or someone breaking in, you won't have to worry about whether help will come or not, because he'll be there to save you. He'll always watch over you, no matter what. You always get yourself in difficult situations, can you blame him for taking extra precautions? Even if those precautions are just a guise for something deeper?

Lee picks up the robot and looks at it. With the audio capture function already preinstalled, he merely needed only make a few adjustments to turn it into a spy cam for him. Now he'd be able to hear your voice more, maybe even get to listen to you sleep, and possibly...

He abruptly clears his throat and puts the robot down. If he delays returning it to you any longer you might get suspicious and he absolutely cannot have you suspicious about his behavior in the slightest. Sloppiness is the downfall of many and while he has the advantage of knowing your habits well enough to use against you, that doesn't mean he can relax at any point. It's you, after all.

He quickly tests the voice memo function, ensuring that it sounds exactly as he wants before quickly packing up his tools.

He got up and picked up the robot before exiting his room. The hallway was grey, as almost everywhere in Babylonia, and the lights were dimmed, indicating sleep hours for most humans and constructs. He could see Lucia's and Liv's rooms across the hallway, doors shut tightly and lights off.

Since Commandants are of higher rank, and constructs and humans are perceived as having professional relationships only and are only tentative friends at most, if that, your room was farther down the hallway.

He supposes he should check your room to see if you're in there, but given that it's only 1 AM and your poor working habits, he figures he has better chance just going straight to the lounge.

With his mind made up, he headed to your office and as expected, the light was on and you were busily scribbling away at something, likely a report from the Science Council, by the looks of it. Without hesitation, he raises his hand and knocks on the door frame.

"Commandant."

You finish writing something before looking up at him, the light from your desk lamp exaggerating your eye bags. "Yes?"

Lee mentally prepared himself as he stepped toward you, it's imperative that he doesn't appear too excited. "I've finished adding the functions you asked for." He internally applauds himself for managing to keep an even tone.

Instantly, your face lights up and you break into a smile he hasn't seen in what feels like eons. "Really? You changed the voice memos?"

"I also updated the movement and response time, since I happened to have some spare parts." He gently placed the robot on your desk, watching you intently as you gently picked it up.

"Remind me at 5 A.M. that I have to go to the Science Council." You make the reminder with a smile on your face, eager to hear a voice you've heard countless times, despite him being right in front of you. It made him feel a tinge of jealousy.

"Understood. Reminder set for five hours and thirty six minutes from now." The small robot replied in his own voice. He had considered making the AI sound more authentic to him, but he decided it should be a little stiff and robotic. That way, if you want to hear him, you'll have to come to him instead.

You practically squeal in delight and he could feel his heating system kick up again. He wished he could turn it off without it causing issue, but he slowly learned to accept it, or at least to ignore it when in your sight.

"Thank you, Lee! I didn't think you'd do it..." You mumbles as you marveled at the robot and he couldn't deny the sense of pride he got knowing how much you liked something he made.

"It was no issue. However," His eyes narrowed at you, doing a quick scan of your vitals. "You need to sleep. Now."

"Just-"

"Now."

You sigh in mild annoyance and Lee decides to push his point further home and turn off your desk light and confiscate your pen. "You need to rest, we can't do anything if our commandant is so tired they can barely function." His words come out sharp and cutting, a little more than he intended, but at the same time he hated when you did this. You always find a way to make him worry, it's why he can never relax.

"Alright, alright...I got it, Lee. Going to bed now." You shoot him a playful glare as you slowly rise from your seat, robot in hand.

"Here, I'll help you to your room."

"I'm not elderly, Lee! I can get there myself!"

"Talk any louder and Lucia and Liv will come down here."

"Okay! I got it!"

You relent with another sigh, dutifully following after him. It took you a long time to get used to letting him walk in front of you whenever you walk together. After all, not even Babylonia is entirely safe anymore and he can't let anything happen to you. Within the time span of him deciding to walk you to your room to now, he's already completed 478 simulations of potential threats, ranging from someone hiding in your room, to Babylonia being attacked, and everything in between.

Thankfully, the brief walk to your room is uneventful, with no Kurono operatives jumping out from the shadows and attempting to snatch you away again, or Vera lunging out from a corner and you both say your goodnights to each other.

It's been three hours and twenty minutes since you went to sleep. In the meantime, Lee has designated himself to completing paperwork that doesn't need a Commandant to fill out. He's gotten roughly 70% of it done and he's decided on completing a few more before heading to his own room.

He's been keeping watch over you, the live stream from your robot open on his visual module. He's noticed you seem to be restless tonight, tossing and turning frequently in the past two hours. Now though, you seem especially restless, your legs occasionally kicking lightly at nothing and your hips occasionally thrusting up-

Lee immediately drops the pen and enlarges the window, zooming in on your face as he brightens the video. Your eyebrows are pushed upwards, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves from under the blankets. Your expression doesn't indicate pain so that must mean...

Lee abruptly shuts off your desk light and walks to his room before he does something he'll regret. As much as the idea of masturbating at your desk excites him, there's a camera pointed in this direction and he'd rather not get written up for his behavior.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, everything he's been keeping pent up for hours catches up to him. Ever since you put your little robot at your desk and went to bed, he had to fight himself not to lose it. God, spying on you excites him so much, he can't wait to start bugging your room and clothes, hell maybe even your bathroom too.

The uncomfortable tightness in his pants reminds him his cock has been straining his pants for the past three hours. He hastily undoes his pants, breathing a sigh of relief as his cock springs out, already leaking precum from the tip as he wraps his hand around it. He zooms out from your face just enough so he can get a more accurate idea of where your hands are as your mouth hangs open and- you moan. You fucking moaned and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard in his god forsaken life.

His hand pumps his length, the sound of his heavy breaths and quiet "schlick" filling his room. His body temperature rising at the sudden awareness of everything he's doing. He's jerking off to a live stream of you doing the same from a camera he installed without your knowledge, not only going beyond your Construct/Commandant relationship, but breaching privacy as well.

he should be horrified of himself, he should immediately cut off the feed and question what's wrong with him, potentially even request a transfer, but he doesn't feel any of that. He feels ecstatic at his success of becoming closer to you, thrilled that you two can share this moment together. God, what if you're thinking of him right now? His cock twitches at the thought.

You're so perfect for him, your face, your hair, your mind, your eyes, your body, everything. The way you look like you're in pure bliss as your hand moves under the blanket, if only he could rip it from you.

Actually, perhaps it's for the best that he can't because the simple thought of being able to see all of you like that might make him cum on the spot.

He can almost smell your arousal just from watching you alone. It's the only thing he doesn't know about you- how you smell, or taste. He could only imagine.

His legs tremble as his free hand flies over his mouth, trying to stifle the moans he threatens to let slip. He can hear everything you know, not just your moans, but your sounds. He can hear all of it and he can barely keep himself from spiraling into thoughts about it'd feel to be inside you, or be able to wrap his mouth around you and taste those delightful juices of yours.

Your moans get higher in pitch and you start to squirm a little more and his hand only pumps faster in response, finding himself so close to orgasm. He bites his lip so hard he can taste vital fluid as he tries so hard not to moan too loud as his vital fluid rushes in his veins.

With the edges of his vison going white and your whimpered cry in his hearing module, his cock twitches and sweet relief fills you both as you cum together. His artificial cum dripping onto the floor.

His body relaxes as it feels like mountains of built up stress ease out of his body, his systems caches clearing as he stares at you through his visual module. He watches you stir and bring your hand up to your face with an airy, lovesick smile. You sigh in frustration as you slowly get up to clean yourself up and he chuckles to himself.

It was your first time together and now this will be something you can do together with him for a long, long time. Until, eventually, you'll truly have your first time together.

[citruswriter]

Hello and welcome to my writing blog!

I like to write. So uh, I'm gonna write. Yk, when I have the motivation. ANYWAYS-

Name: Lofi/Tavern

Age: Chrono young 20s (I'm secretly a primordial entity tho, obvi 💅)

Pronouns: They/Them, Thou/Thee, Ech/Echo, Bee/Bees & Fae/Faer

Honorifics: Vs, Sai, Mir, Miss (playfully), Ma'am (formal/if close)

Terms: Feminine, Masculine, Neutral, Nonhuman

Relationship Status: Single and Not Looking and Queerplatonically Taken x3!

Extras: Multireligous, Objectum, Fictospec, Queer, etc.

Divider Credit

My Omegaverse Ranks

Used your artwork and you want me to remove it/credit you? Send me a message and lmk!

Citrus Scale: The Levels and What They Mean

Orange 🧡 - General Writings. So this would be fluff, angst, comfort, and similar.

Lime 💚 - Slight spice but not flat out nsfw. Heavy make out, sexual tension, maybe some milder things like grinding or choking.

Lemon 💛 - The filth and sin. Full blown tango. Actually nsfw. Le sex. General kinks added in as well.

Grapefruit 🩷 - A rarer ranking not often used to be alluded to darker things. Such as yandere, Stockholm Syndrome, gRape, murder, body mutilation, etc. Usually sexual or has sexual themes but not always.

Fandoms I Write For

Baldur's Gate Three

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Hazbin Hotel

Creepypasta

Hetalia

Star Wars

Hogwarts

MeChat

Melanie Martinez/Crybaby

Anyways I think that's it. Send in those requests!

[criminallyyoursvn]

Asking this for everyone wondering—what is Niks/Chronos' turn-on? This is for scientific reasons. 🎤🎤

Eye contact. It’s simple, but there’s a reason he stares so much at you during the bar performance. If you can maintain eye contact with him no matter what you’re doing his heart will reach ultimate limits.

He’s also especially fond of neck kisses.

And last but not least on the big three just moaning in general and saying his name.

[pwutrid]

INTRO AFTER MONTHS OF GOING M ｡ I ｡ A 1!??11!

𝄞 CUCU ᵒʳ MORI !!! 。。。not new 2 rqc !!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(joined around jan-feb of this year)

𐔌 it its ╱ hy hymn ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᕱ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ᕱ

𐔌 15 chrono 18⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ (๑ゝ ܫ ∂ ๑)

𐔌 cupio + aego 💗 transmasc boygirl gaybian⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

꒰more undr cut꒱⠀⠀✚

꒰ you may have known me by moe / momo / syn on my old account ( honestly dont remembr my @ then ) anyway i deleted my account out of mental health reasons and wanting 2 get bettr ◞ ◟but now that i'm feeling bettr im back!!! who cheered ( no 1 ik ) enough yapping here , ids + more below . . ꒱

trans-id : trans harmed , trans-severity , trans-programmed , trans-age , permateen , trans-ramcoa , trans-popularartist , trans-anorexia , trans-bjd , trans-species , trans-npd , trans-yandere , trans-micro celebrity , trans-visual novel hero / heroine , transweight , transheight , transcannibal , trans4channer , trans-aam , trans-innocent , trans-vitiligo , trans-voice .

cis-id : did , aspd , ocd , bpd , mdd , schizoaffective , csa , cocsa , adhd , autism , poc + blasian , tourettes , kamidere , kuudere , artist , incel , chunibyo , hikikomori , delusions , map ( on occasions ) , aam , memory loss , stalker , maladaptive daydreamer .

i am pro para , pro c , pro rq , post rq , proship , comship , darkship & a major spectrophile if that matters . i support all things in good faith ! also is ,, new to acknowledging the fact that we're a system so we would love sys friends to feel a little comfy / homey with this new discovery . . no dni , just be normal

ill update along the way i have really terrible memory issues blrgh . . okay bai

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Imagine platonic Yandere Overhaul and the kid he reluctantly adopted attempting to bond. Kai thought it would be easy as it was pretty easy for him to bond with his adoptive father.

But kids nowadays weren’t that interested in theories about quirk theories and Shogi. Or proper hygiene lectures and why heroes are practically deceased rats.

Overhaul, trying to bond: And that’s why heroes and villains are mindless, sickly creatures.

Reader Chan: This stinks, can we just do arts and crafts or something?

Kai was dumbfounded, don’t kids like long lectures? It was after extensive research and much cringe, he finally grasped on what children liked nowadays.

And let me tell you, Overhaul was not impressed. He’s the type of dad to overlook into things and question things to the point of annoying everyone.

Overhaul: Where are all the humans? How did all the ponies establish a government and build everything?

Everyone: Holy shit, SHUT UP!

Then pops suggested he try bonding with you through your own interests rather than his own. Pops has done this rodeo before and it’ll probably won’t be the last.

Overhaul did arts and crafts with you, y’all tried to make a popsicle stick house but that only got Kai stuck to the table and your hands covered with glue.

Chrono was very concerned about this and Kai made everyone swear to never speak about this.

Your popsicle house collapsed too.

Reader Chan then decided to make him an apology gift, which was a drawing of him beating the table. And them kissing his bandaged fingers better.

The only thing y’all bonded over was cooking, when I mean cooking, I mean you just putting a salad kit together.

[pr0-dollie]

˗ˏˋʚ My Transids ɞˎˊ˗

Trans id: ( some of these are to cope )

Trans plural, Trans Japanese, Trans pure, trans Ill, Trans-cat called, trans desired, trans service dog, trans bjd, trans s3x worker, trans p0rn⭐️,trans lovesick, trans succubus, trans pink hair, trans pink skin, trans achy, trans trans male/ftm, trans 2000s, trans Christian, trans shape shifter, trans harmed, trans r4ped/m0l3st3d, trans an0r3x1c + bv11mi4, trans, trans yandere, trans magical girl, trans s3x, trans tic, trans depressed, trans ptsd, trans backstop, trans more abvs3d, trans more childhood tr4uma, trans physically abvse, trans backstory, trans pansexual, trans lesbian, trans severe sh scars, trans immortal, trans dating, trans fangs, trans c$a victim, trans s3xual abvuse victim of any kind, trans angel, trans Russian, trans German, trans npd.

Tri id:

Tri autistic, tri-delusional, tri stutter, tri harmed, tri s3xual trauma, tri stalker, tri smoker, tri adored, tri obsessed, tri-r4p3 bait.

Cis id:

Cis-online grxxmed, cis-freak, cis-impure, cis-indesirable, cis-parasocial, ciswhite, cis-physically abvsed, cis verbally abvsed, ect.

Permas:

Perma-smiley, perma-silly, perma scared, perma traumatized, perma scared of death, perma bandages, perma hospital, perma heart broken, perma annoying, perma angel

Age things: chrono 16 - I mostly identify as 16 and will refer to myself as 16, perma teen, perma tween, perma 16, perma 18, perma young, perma kid, perma infant, perma toddler, perma 8-9

︶ִֶָ⏝︶ִֶָ⏝˖ ࣪ ୨ ♰ ୧ ࣪ ˖⏝ִֶָ︶⏝ִֶָ︶

[ducky-bah]

hii! if possible could we have a sadism holder with red hair and possibly a bit of inspiration from yandere sim? everything besides that is full creators choice and if possible id heavily prefer both trans and cis ids but if ur struggling then feel free not to include those :> any size template is alright, tyty!

One YanSim inspired red-headed sadism holder below the cut! Feel free to edit/scrap anything that doesn't fit!

༄~𖦹︎ Name(/s) ➪ Crimson, Carmine, Vermilion (I misspelled that as "Vamillion" at first), Malakai, Sable, Lethe/Lethis, Aeris, Nerine, Info(?)

༄~𖦹︎ Pronouns ➪ He/him, They/them, It/its, She/Her, Blood/Bloods, Cut/Cuts, Red/Reds, [gore & horror related neos and xenos]

༄~𖦹︎ Gender ➪ YanSimgender, Sadibodiment, Chaosthing, Scarything, Rabidpreadator, Huntix, EatYourHeartOutphrasic, Yanderecoric, Infochanic, Cannirabiesgender, Viruscoric, Bodyhorric, Bloodyorgancoric, HorrorHoarder, GoreHoarder

༄~𖦹︎ Orientations ➪ Aroflux, Cupioromantic, Eros Gay, Eros Achillean, Vincian Achillean

༄~𖦹︎ CisIDs ➪ CisApathetic, CisSadistic, CisManipulative, CisControlling, CisNymphet, CisInsane/CisInsanity, CisHateful, CisViolent, CisGamer, CisAutistic, CisAPD, CisMisophonia, CisCynical, CisPurpleEyes, CisFae, CisImmortal, CisNarcissistic

༄~𖦹︎ TrisIDs ➪ TrisHarmful, TrisTraumatised, TrisChronicallyOnline

༄~𖦹︎ TransIDs ➪ TransCharaAppearance (Info-chan), Transfictional, Transcharacter, TransF/O, TransCannibal, TransASPD, TransBadPerson, TransMania, TransCovertNPD, TransFangs/TransFanged, TransControlling (More controlling), TransColor (TransRed), TransSpecies, TransClosedSpecies, TransHyperS3xual, SeveriHyperS3xual, TransMUD, TransACD, TransHuman or TransHumanish, TransRedEyes, TransImparedVision/TransLowVision, TransGlasses

༄~𖦹︎ PermaIDs ➪ Perma2020, Perma2021, PermaInvalidated & PermaValidated (for different things/reasons), PermaFucked, PermaTraumatised, PermaHeartBroken, PermaDuplicateVision, PermaRevived, PermaRude, PermaAge (Perma16)

༄~𖦹︎ Kintypes ➪ Fictionkin -> Info-chan

༄~𖦹︎ Age ➪ Perma16, Unknown chrono age

༄~𖦹︎ Species ➪ TransHuman & TransClosedSpecies, CisFae

༄~𖦹︎ Role(/s) ➪ Sadism Holder, may also be a manipulator

༄~𖦹︎ Source or Theme ➪ Yansim-Inspired Sadism Holder!

༄~𖦹︎ Appearance or Faceclaim ➪ Cis Appearance (1) & Trans Appearance (2&3)

➪ Art Creds; 1 & 2 & 3

༄~𖦹︎ Likes ➪ Mind games, violence, money, horror (specifically psychological horror & gore), weapons, sharp objects, being in control, music, strategy based activities (primarily those that it can set up the other party to lose from the beginning)

༄~𖦹︎ Mixed Feelings ➪ Knives (likes weapons but using a knife would get its hands dirty), attention (its nice, but makes it difficult to get away with things), compliments (they feed its ego but it tends to believe others are giving them to gain something), affection (can enjoy it but also sees it as weakness or gets suspicious of it)

༄~𖦹︎ Dislikes ➪ Weakness, being ignored, being told what to do, being vulnerable, being bored & boring topics, being limited (by lack of knowledge/ability/energy/etc), plans being disturbed, people who are always happy or always kind (it tends to be suspicious of them), those who are disobedient, sport

༄~𖦹︎ Proxy Option ➪ 📱🥀/👓🩸

༄~𖦹︎ Personality Traits/Quirks ➪ Manipulative, cunning, tends to stick to things its good at, while many of its actions are calculated it also has a very impulsive and reckless side, may believe it is above the rules

[cloudninetonine]

The silence that spans over the two of you is heavy, your eyes fighting back terrified tears as you heard another twig snap.

"Link," Your voice is desperate, your foot moving to back up just the slightest bit. "Link, what did you do?"

Paradox's face curls, the emotion slathered on his face something that portrayed heartbreak and guilt but only further brought in the feeling of absolute fear.

"What I had to." He takes a step forward as you take another step back, looking beyond you for a moment and indicating something was right behind you- "I'm sorry, (Name), but enough was enough."

You don't even have the chance to run when a gauntlet hand is grabbing your arm, tightening to an almost painful degree as a very familiar laugh filled the air, your stomach dropping.

"Thought you could get away, did you, dear Guide?"

Chrono.

__________

Hi guys just wanted to write something small that has been bouncing around my head recently for mess au! I know I haven't been on as much, I've been trying to do more but I've kinda been stuck in a hars place! Nonetheless I'll try and get the next part of mess au out as soon as I can!

Chrono is Villain! Time

Paradox is Yandere! Time

[deathmetalunicorn1]

omg you're so good at breaking my heart 🥺💔

the poseidon and charybdis headcanons have been breaking me but the latest one 😭

Please can we have an au where poseidon actually wins or charybdis decides to give him a chance? I have a feeling he'd be SUCH a yandere!dad, especially in the last part of the fight where he screams "I’m taking Charybdis- my daughter, back from you filthy humans!"

Poseidon as a yandere!dad would be so insane, he'd be so possessive, obsessive, and overprotective especially since he has such a sweet and innocent daughter 🥺🥺

-Despair and guilt were the only emotions that Poseidon could feel, as well as anger at himself.

-You, his little daughter, was lost. You had found a new family, a new papa and mama in Adam and Eve, calling them such.

-You now had a massive family, between your new parents, the human fighters, the valkyries, and Hercules.

-You no longer needed him. You no longer wanted him.

-He wallowed in his own anguish, all of which was his own causing, hiding away in a private room that he trashed within moments of entering, then sat for what felt like hours.

-Poseidon was in a fog, unable to comprehend any thoughts other than you, what he did to you, and what he didn’t.

-As a king, he kept all emotions locked deep within him, hidden away from the eyes of others, from the eyes of those who look up to him and respect him, even if it is respect out of fear.

-But seeing you, his child, terrified of him and calling another man, a human man of all things, your papa.

-Poseidon longed for a second chance, to go back in time to that point where he walked away from you and your mother, to take you with him instead of abandoning you.

-He longed to be able to go back and defend you against Zeus; Poseidon clutched his chest over his heart as he could only remember your face when you told him that you were just so hungry, and for it, you were severely punished.

-His eyes widened, “That’s it!”

-He quickly ran out, searching out a specific god, one that he knew would help him, or else.

-Poseidon ran into the room of Chronos, Greek God of time, shocking him as Poseidon ran to him, grabbing his arms, desperate, “You can send people back into time, right? Can you send me back into time?!”

-Chronos was going to refuse, before he saw the desperation in the eyes of the sea god, “State to me your intentions first. Unweaving what has been done to reweave it may cause more problems than what you have now.”

-Poseidon shook his head, “I don’t care! I’ll deal with the problems if they should arise! I want to save my daughter from those filthy humans!!”

-Chronos nodded, opening a portal to the past, “Think of ‘when’ you want to return to. This portal will take you there.”

-Poseidon shocked him a second time by thanking him and ran through. The pain he felt was immense, time returning to the day he abandoned your mother, no longer wanting to be with her.

-He gasped harshly, holding his chest as he looked around, seeing he was younger, a bit smaller, all his memories remained as he immediately turned, hearing you crying as you begged your mother not to leave you as she screamed at you that it was your fault he left.

-Poseidon immediately stalked over, seeing you in tears, “Wrong, it was your fault I left. And I only left you, not Charybdis.”

-You gasped, seeing your father and you immediately stood and ran over, “Papa!” he caught you, holding you tightly, he silently vowed that he would never abandon you again as your mother screeched in defiance, going to charge at the two of you.

-Poseidon held you tightly, “Close your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you to.” You nodded, burying your face into his chest as he gripped his trident and attacked and killed your mother.

-Once he walked far enough away, he pecked your forehead, getting your attention as he smiled softly down at you, adoration in his eyes, “You’re safe now, my daughter. Nothing will ever hurt you again.”

-You beamed, hugging him around his neck, “I love you papa!” he hugged you back, continuing to walk as he thought about what he could do to make things safer for you at this second chance.

-As much as he wanted to get rid of the humans so they wouldn’t take you, Poseidon wanted to show you how compassionate he was, not wanting to scare you away, he wanted you by his side with love, not fear.

-Many of the other gods were shocked by Poseidon’s sudden change of attitude, wanting to help the humans, and he demanded the same of the other gods, punishing those who were so cruel to humans, telling everyone that the human are their creation, their responsibility, it’s their duty as gods to guide them to create a better world!

-You were in awe of your papa, praising him for being so kind, and he ate up every one of your praises with glee, making sure he did the same to you, doting on you and caring for you, as you were his precious daughter.

-He wasn’t going to lose you again.