#yandere dark fairy

[sucker-for-yanderes]

Yandere x Reader

Contains: gn!reader, sub!reader, dub/con, yandere behavior, forced orgasm.

yandere who makes incredibly emotionally vulnerable and insecure reader cum even though reader thinks they don’t deserve that type of pleasure.

reader denying yandere’s advances continuously, all failing of course. all of that effort, for what? right. yandere pins reader down forcing them to take it, forcing pleasurable reactions out of reader, and eventually, forcing reader to cum.

but it’s mostly to let reader know that they do deserve that type of love! they deserve to feel pleasure on all levels. only the best for you, pookie. the other reasoning being that they want to make you happy, as happy as you can be.

yandere wiping reader’s tears of happiness as their high fades. they’re ready to give you that same high time and time again. yandere will always be there for you, my dear. they’re not going to let you go. they won’t let you pass up on the same feeling that you give them.

yandere massaging your back, adoring you as you fall asleep on them, mindlessly drooling on their shirt. but they love it. you’re so cute. they love you so much. goodnight.

xoxo.

[fearlesstigerquotev]

Ensnared

Yandere M!Pied Piper X F!Reader

Warnings: Mild body horror, possessive + yandere behavior masterlist

Once upon a time, in the land cradled between the winding waters of the river Weser, there lay two towns, Hamelin and Weidehohl, each a curiosity of its own. To the west, Weidehohl nestled amidst the towering, age-old trees, where the pagans roamed, their shadows falling on creatures of the forest, and their deeds shrouded in darkness. They committed crimes that troubled the very heavens, where cats were denied their lives, and dogs met a mournful fate.

On the opposite bank, to the east, stood Hamelin, a settlement graced by the protective embrace of four mighty forts, where no soul could pass unseen or unnoticed. It was a city crafted from the warm, welcoming wood of time, its heart radiating with peace and prosperity. In Hamelin, the gentle hand of Christ blessed the land with abundance.

And in the blessed town of Hamelin lived a widow named Y/N. Her heart was as pure as the morning dew, yet heavy with the sorrow of a love lost. Her beloved had embarked on a sacred missionary journey, and for seven long days and seven nights, he had vanished from her sight. It was on the seventh night that his lifeless form was returned to her humble dwelling, a pitiful sight to behold. His body resembled a mangled corpse, the limbs poking out in odd angles, the silver cross ripped from his neck. Even the cherished keepsake, a timepiece adorned with a lovingly-crafted portrait of his beloved wife on their wedding day, had vanished into the shadows.

With tearful eyes and a contrite heart, the widow sought solace in the confessional, where she bared her soul to the priest and questioned the sins that had led to her husband's gruesome fate at the hands of the pagans. But the priest, hidden behind the confessional booth, offered words of comfort and guidance.

"Nay, dear child, the burden of blame lies not upon your shoulders," he whispered gently. "The pagans of Weidehohl are the architects of this sorrow, and their lives shall remain fraught with wretchedness unless they turn to the benevolent embrace of Christ."

"Father," Y/N confessed, "in my despair, I confess to having missed Sunday Mass twice in succession. What penance must I undertake to cleanse my soul of sin and ensure the reunion of my husband and me in the heavenly kingdom of our Lord?"

"My dear child," came the priest's soothing reply, "perform acts of charity, extend your hand to the needy, and become a sponsor to the orphan. Through these acts of benevolence, your soul shall find its path to redemption, and in the divine grace of our Lord, you shall one day be reunited with your beloved in the heavenly realm."

And so, the widow poured the essence of her very being into the sacred act of spreading the love of the Savior. She became the guardian of the forsaken, running a humble orphanage for the downtrodden street urchins. Beneath the sheltering eaves of her makeshift home, she provided not only a sanctuary from the cold, unforgiving world but also warm soups that chased away the hunger that gnawed at their fragile bellies.

To those who approached her with intentions other than those of the divine, she responded with an unshakable steadfastness. Her words, like a sermon from the heavens, would gently rebuke them, reminding them of the plight of the orphans and how humanity had often forsaken those less fortunate. In her wisdom, there was a grain of truth: Why should the Church entrust a humble widow with the monumental task of caring for orphans, while it basked in the wealth derived from indulgences?

Yet, Y/N knew better than to arouse the ire of the Church, for as a widow, a solitary soul, she teetered on the precipice of society's margins. A single misstep could condemn her to the mercy of the clergy, leaving her precarious existence hanging by a slender thread.

But despite her pure intentions, the Devil would test her belief in God once again. This time, He unleashed upon her beloved Hamelin a deluge of rats and mice, a horde of vermin with ravenous appetites. They descended upon the city like the overflowing waters of the river Weser, devouring the meager stores of grain, defiling the once-pure waters of the public well with their loathsome droppings, and spreading pestilence and death throughout the land.

In the face of this vile pestilence, the people of Hamelin turned to their faith with fervor, seeking solace and redemption in daily worship. Their voices echoed with praises to the Lord, sung until they grew hoarse from their devotion. Yet, amidst their piety, the plight of the orphaned souls remained unseen, their suffering ignored. Hearts once kind were now veiled by self-righteousness, their pride preventing even a morsel of bread from being offered to those in need. And so, Y/N toiled away once more, her body growing weaker and more fragile as the weeks passed by.

One day, a curious traveler, bedecked in a garb of vivid hues, sauntered into the fortified realm of Hamelin. Bemused and bedazzled, the city's folk kept a wary distance from this stranger, their wariness ignited by his flamboyant cloak and hair ablaze like Hell's own fire. At his neck, he wore not the sacred cross but a flute, intricately carved from bone.

"Citizens of Hamelin," rang out his voice like a melodious tune, "I bear, through secret charms unknown to most, the power to summon forth all creatures dwelling beneath the sun—those that crawl, swim, fly, or race across the land. These are the creatures that oft bring harm upon you—the mole, the toad, the newt, and the serpent. People call me the Pied Piper. If I but free your town from its rat-borne scourge, shall you grant me a thousand guilders?"

"A thousand guilders? Secret charm?" laughed the crowd. "We'd sooner drink cow's urine than entertain the whims of a charlatan like thee! Why, you are clothed like the pagans of Weidehohl! We good Christians would never associate ourselves with infidels like thee!"

And so, the Pied Piper found himself slumbering upon the city's cobblestone streets, right before the doorstep of the humble orphanage. Unable to turn a blind eye, she fed him with the crusts of bread the children could not eat, and soup made of vegetable scraps.

He looked up at her, bewildered that one of the citizens who had rejected him would dare nourish him. "Dost thou not fear condemnation? To aid a stranger such as I?"

"Nonsense," came her swift reply, "before me, I see neither stranger, nor maverick, nor even one hailing from Weidehohl. In this moment, I behold but a fellow soul, a man who may succumb to the bitter cold if aid is not given."

Bringing the broth to his lips, the Pied Piper relished in its salty aroma. How could a denizen of Hamelin, known for their stern devotion to God's path, radiate such tender warmth? In what felt like but a heartbeat, the soup disappeared from his bowl. "Is... Is this the doctrine of thy Lord?"

She smiled as she took the bowl from him, "Indeed, it is the teaching of our Lord, who bids us to love one another as He loves us."

The Pied Piper could only chuckle and rake his fingers through his red hair, which twirled upwards in delicate curls at the base of his collarbone. "Throughout my long years upon this Earth, they have regarded me as but an exterminator, a mere tool to rid their towns of the earthly vermin. Never have I been graced by the presence of Mother Mary herself."

"Mother Mary? How does a pagan such as yourself know of her?" curiosity laced Y/N's voice as she sat down next to him. Inside the orphanage, the children, intrigued by the unusual encounter, giggled and vied for a view between their surrogate mother and the curious visitor.

The Piper bestowed upon her a subtle, enigmatic grin, and with a deft movement of his fingers, he began to play a soft, mesmerizing tune on his flute—a melody so enchanting that it seemed as if the very stars had descended to dance in the moonlit night.

The children, drawn by the enchanting music, abandoned their timid hideaways and gathered around the pair. Their eyes, wide with innocent wonder, bore witness to the magic of the Piper's tune—a melody that had never before graced their ears. For indeed, the orphans had never heard of the wonderous music before. It was unlike the solemn hymns of the church, rigid and controlled. Instead, it was a music that spoke of freedom, of joy, and liberation from the chains of the mundane.

Y/N couldn't help but feel that it danced on the edge of sin, but she could not deny the children their delight. She allowed them to dance and frolic, their laughter rising like the joyful laughter of forest spirits.

In the end, she never received an answer to her question.

With the passage of time, Y/N perceived a waning in the rat population, witnessed the orphans suffer less from the grip of disease, and felt her own health flourish in the absence of the rodents.

"Perhaps the Lord has graced me for extending sustenance to the Pied Piper?" she pondered, conversing with her fellow women during Sunday Mass.

"Hush, dear," came their swift rejoinder, "you were simply a fortunate soul. Our homes still teem with the pestilence of mice!"

"But consider this," Y/N beseeched, her voice laden with earnestness, "What if God sent this plague as a trial? A test of our kindness and charity, a challenge to alleviate the traveler's suffering, even if he be unconventional? If each working man were to bestow but one guilder upon the Piper, he would amass a bounty sufficient to lead the rats away from Hamelin!"

Her words did not go unheard by the mayor. Share his own coffers of wealth would he not. But pluck a thousand guilders from the working class to please the Piper—a fine deal indeed. After Mass, he called the Pied Piper to his office and told him of the proposal.

In response, the Piper laughed and shook his head, "Gentleman, the thousand guilders were but a jest. All I seek is a fine wife in exchange for my services."

The mayor's eyes lit up in delight. Now, he would not even need to part ways with his beloved coin! "Go forth, and choose an unmarried woman of your liking! Do anything that you must in order to kill the rats of Hamelin!"

On the morrow, the good folk of Hamelin awoke to a sight most peculiar. The Pied Piper, with his mop of hair burning red, led an army of rats away from the town, all the while playing a merry tune on his bone-carved flute. His garments billowed like swallows riding the breath of the wind, whilst the rats scurried at his feet, dancing with mania. They squeaked and chirped, running and tumbling in circles, over cobblestone roads, through the gates of Hamelin, over hills and meadows, until they reached the winding river Weser.

"Little rodents! Ye must be parched from your toil! Go, partake of the waters that the Lord Christ hath graciously provided!" sang the Piper, twirling around his own axis as he played the hypnotizing tune.

As if by some mystical command, the rats leaped into the river, one by one, and there, they met their watery fate.

"My, 'tis sorcery!" screeched the resident priest, clutching his cross in the palm of his gnarled hand. 

The mayor interjected, "But Reverend, thou must admit, the young lad hath cured us of this plight! And in return, all he seeks is a companion—a wife!"

The Pied Piper turned toward the crowd and bowed with theatrical elegance. The colors of his cloak simmered and contorted—one moment, a vibrant lemon yellow. The next—deep cerulean blue. Loud gasps of wonder and awe erupted from the crowd, who had formed a small comune along the river bank.

With a dazzling smile, the Pied Piper got down on one knee and raised his arms to the heavens, "Fair maiden, protector of the orphans, a soul akin to the benevolent Mary herself! Amongst the Christians of Hamelin, you alone treated me with the grace of human kindness. Would you do me the honor of becoming my cherished bride, despite the unfavorable reputation that taints my name among your townsfolk?"

Y/N froze and averted her gaze to the ground. Using the sleeve of her dress to conceal her face, she replied, "An outcast for an outcast, it seems. Piper, you have placed me in a most wretched predicament. I have dedicated my life in service to God and find myself an unwedded widow, a spinster by the world's judgment."

His expression darkened but was soon replaced by a charming smile. "Fair lady, I take it as a no?"

Unable to speak another word, the widow nodded, unable to reciprocate his smile. What use was there in accepting the hand of a man whose name remained a mystery to her? Besides, the priest would never officiate a marriage between a believing woman and an infidel. Even an infidel who saved Hamelin from certain ruin.

"Fear not. I had a lingering suspicion that such would be thy response."

Once more, he brought the bone-carved flute to his lips. But this time, the melody that poured forth carried an almost otherworldly quality, a tune that seemed to teeter on the brink of the supernatural.

The children, both orphans and those with families of their own, emerged from their homes, their gleeful laughter and exuberant cries resonating through the air like the unholy revelry of a wicked tarantella. Yet, as the music wove its spell, a sinister transformation overtook them. Their limbs elongated and stretched, contorting to grotesque proportions, as if every ounce of their humanity was being pulled apart by unseen hands.

The adults could not move a single muscle, it was as if their feet were planted firmly in the ground. Y/N herself was no exception, and she screamed and begged the Piper to stop this madness. But whenever she tried to take a step toward him, her legs were met with a gripping pain, searing through her body, mind, and soul. 

There was no doubt: The Piper wanted to see the Hamelians suffer. More specifically, Y/N.

Their movements grew wild and untamed, limbs flailing and twisting with a grotesque grace that defied the laws of nature. It was as though their bodies had become marionettes, but marionettes manipulated by a malevolent puppeteer, their movements driven by a dark and unholy force. They twirled and spun, their movements growing increasingly frenzied, entrapped in a wicked ritual that defied the doctrine of the Lord itself.

Laughter mixed with the cracking of bones as the children frolicked and pranced, following the Piper as he led them away from Hamelin. Together, they crossed the shimmering waters of the river Weser, traversed rolling hills, until they disappeared into the foreboding depths of the woods that led to Weidehohl. 

Y/N was the first to break out of the trance. With lightning-fast reflexes and a heart heavy with dread, she sprinted toward the looming woods that led to Weidehohl, her voice raised in a desperate cry. "Children! Come back! This is not the path ordained by the Lord!"

But her pleas fell upon deaf ears as the possessed children, their eyes vacant and their limbs contorted, followed the Piper deeper into the shadowy woods. Deeper into the woods she ran, the gnarled branches of ancient trees clawing at her as if trying to hold her back. She followed the trail of broken branches and twisted footprints, breadcrumbs of waning hope that stretched endlessly into the heart of the forest.

Finally, at the heart of the sinister forest, she stumbled upon the lame boy, his eyes wide with terror and confusion. His frail form quivered, unable to join in the manic dance of his peers. Y/N knelt beside him, murmuring prayers of protection and strength. "Where have they gone, dear child?"

"There..." the lame boy whispered, pointing to a clearing in the midst of the woods.

The widow told the boy to stay put and approached the clearing. To her surprise, the clearing appeared utterly ordinary, as if untouched by the dark enchantment that had gripped the children. Bewildered, she turned back to check on the lame boy, only to have her heart plummet to her very shoes. He had vanished without a trace.

Heart hammering in her chest, she ran through the woods, between the ancient trees, leaping over quaint forest streams. But the lame boy was nowhere to be found. Not even the wretched Piper or the remaining children.

A gloved hand grabbed hers. Y/N shrieked and begged to be released, but it only caused the grip to tighten. She blinked and the next thing she knew, she was in a forest village, surrounded by the children she had come to love oh-so-dearly. 

Overcome with relief, she ran forward and embraced the children, sobbing and wailing just like at her deceased husband's funeral. Through tear-filled eyes, she beheld a wondrous transformation of the world around her. Waters gushed and sparkled, fruit trees burst into bloom with an otherworldly splendor, and flowers unfurled in hues that defied earthly comparison. Sparrows radiated a brilliance surpassing that of peacocks, their plumage resplendent. Horses bore wings akin to eagles, and even the honeybees had shed their stingers.

"Welcome to Weidehohl!" announced the Piper, taking her hand once more. Ignoring her pleas for release, he dipped and twirled the maiden with practiced ease, his steps sure and confident. Whispering sweet nothings, he drew her close for a kiss, and his gloved fingers brushed away the tears that streamed down her face. They danced in graceful circles, surrounded by the mesmerizing melody of the birds and the bees, who serenaded them with joyful chirps and buzzing.

It was then that she noticed the transformed children, each playing a flute similar to the one that dangled from the Piper's neck. The tune that flowed from their instruments was all too familiar—a cherished church hymn reserved for weddings. Dread seized her heart as the realization settled in, and all she could do was weep as the Pied Piper kissed away her tears,

As she danced, a small piece of metal fell from within the man's garments and onto the forest floor.

A timepiece, engraved with a lovingly-crafted portrait of herself on their wedding day. But in place of her late husband now stood the Pied Piper.

[buildmeafairytale]

I think part of the allure of monsters is the obsession. Like a giant werewolf telling me I'm his mate, following me around, leaving me presents and scaring off anyone else who is interested? Begging me to let him put a baby in me? Or a big orc throwing me over their shoulder and just deciding to take me because they know best and we are supposed to be together? Pretty fairy girlfriend tricking me into marrying her so I can never leave?

No human partner will ever want me so fully and completely. I want it to be depraved. I want them to be obsessed. No partner I've ever had has wanted me as deeply as I need to be wanted. I made a (sort of) joke to my partner about leaving them a pair of my panties and they just thought it was weird. My werewolf boyfriend would have loved them.

[starsandink13]

The White Crow Game Chapter 6

Even though you were far away from the theater, the agonized screams still pierced through your mind. You had no idea for how long you've been walking; it seemed like the flow of time was frozen in place in this mansion. Forever stuck in a single moment no matter how much time really passed outside.

Which makes sense, since he did say that this is on the border between the fairy realm and the human realm... You thought and cracked your stiff neck. Carefully, you put a finger to where the bruise had once been and grimaced. From now on, I have to be even more careful when going through this place. Although I still don't know why he would go out of his way to heal me. Something about that isn't right.

When you were about to turn another corner, you noticed a painting of Corvin dressed in a dark red silk cloak. The hood was pulled up and he held a white rose out towards the viewer with an eerily placid smile and a sinister look in his eyes. But what interested you was that the rose looked as if it was jutting out of the canvas, almost as if you could reach towards it and pluck it out. Without thinking, you put your hand gently towards the rose and yelped as you felt petals under your fingers.

"W-what?" You gasped and touched the flower again.

The silky petals bent ever so slightly underneath your touch. Hesitantly, you pulled out the flower. To your shock, the rose was in your hands with the exact weight and texture of one. You looked back to the painting to see that where the rose once was is now a black silhouette of it.

You turned the rose once more over in your hand before putting it back into the painting. The rose sank back into the canvas and transformed into a facade of what it was.

Could this mean that he hid the key inside of a painting?

Your hand wrapped around the strap of your satchel as you looked at the portrait. Admittedly, that is pretty smart of him if it is. No one would expect you to put it in such obviously plain sight.

You cracked your neck and walked away from the artwork. Excitement raced through your veins and you walked a little bit faster. You came to the end of the hallway to see that there weren't any paintings featuring a key of any kind.

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy...

You shook your head and let out a deep sigh, running a hand through your messy (H/C) hair. You closed your eyes and leaned against a door. The door gave way to your weight and you let out a sharp squeak. Before you could fall on your face, you regained your balance. You shook your head, dusting off your pants and looked at the room you stumbled into.

It was a magnificent music room with most of its light goldish walls taken up by tall, arched windows that let in streams of moonlight. The floors were white marble with thin veins of gold that were so polished that you could see your reflection in it. At even intervals, dark blue chaises and ottomans were placed up against the walls. Next to one of the windows was an ivory harp and a cello. You walked up to a window and looked up at the moon that hung in the ink-black sky like a silver eye.

Your heart clenched and put a hand over it. Don't give up, you're close to freedom.

In the middle of the room was a well-polished grand piano. It was black and glossy like a raven's feather with ivory keys shining like pearls in the low light. The piano bench seated in front of it was made of ebony with midnight blue velvet upholstery.

Do I have to play Moonlight Sonata? You scoffed and turned away from the piano. As you were about to leave the room, a melody played behind you.

You whipped around to see Corvin seated at the piano. You were about to demand to know what he was doing but stopped when you saw his expression. His face was placid and focused; a far cry from his usually mischievous demeanor. His long and slender fingers gracefully plucked at the keys. The music was low and haunting, like the soft cries of a ghostly bride. You wanted to sit down next to him and listen for eternity. Your limbs felt heavy and you slowly walked towards him. As you were about to sit next to him, you froze up and remembered that this was a trap fairies used to lure humans.

You took a step back and put your hands over your ears and clenched your eyes shut. Your heart felt like a vice was crushing it as every bone in your body locked in place. Fear raced through you like a spider's venom as the melody continued to play, beckoning you to your doom.

Think of something else, come on! Do not listen to it!

The music seemed to become louder, tempting you to put your hands down and close your eyes for eternity. You bit your lip, a sharp pain bursted and your mouth was tinged with the metallic taste of blood.

The melody was becoming stronger; almost as if it was begging-- no, demanding-- you to put your hands down from your ears and listen. Your (S/C) hands were violently shaking.

Think of the key! Focus on the finding the key!

As the last of your fraying willpower was nearly gone, the music finally stopped. You heard a quiet laugh from Corvin and you opened your eyes slightly.

"My, am I really that bad?" He said and got up from the bench.

"No-- the opposite. I would never expect you to be good at it," you begrudgingly admitted, a sharp heat flashed on your face.

"There are quite a lot of things you don't know about me," he leaned into your ear with his hand on your shoulder, his voice husky. "Besides, when you have lived as long as I have you tend to pick up various hobbies to stave away the boredom. Maybe I'll dedicate a song to us and perform it at the wedding. What do you think of that?"

Please don't.

"Speechless, aren't you?" His voice became lower. His soft, cool breath hit your cheek, making your skin crawl. Thankfully, he slowly stepped away from you before you could shove him off of you.

"You have quite a lot of artwork, don't you?" You said. "Especially of yourself."

"It's to serve as a reminder of who's home it is," he answered as he straightened out the lapels of his jacket.

"Can I ask something?"

"Of course."

"You mentioned that you have a lot of hobbies, right?"

"Yes."

"Is one of them painting?"

"I occasionally do some, mostly of landscapes and interior environments." He admitted. "Although I'm not too bad at portraiture, would you like one of you for our first anniversary?"

"No," you bluntly stated.

"My dear has anyone told you're as beautiful as you are scathing?"

"Yes."

"And yet you are still so cruel!" He playfully gasped.

"Anyways, do fairy artists have the ability to put an item into the canvas?" You said impatiently.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean can they put an object into the frame and make it appear as if it is part of the painting. Hide it in plain view so to speak?"

His eyes widened for a moment and he fell silent before quietly answering, "Yes."

"What other things can fairies do regarding artworks?" You continued, "Not just paintings and sculptures, but also music, literature, and so on?"

"Just like in the stories you have about us, we can create music that can put people into a trance and spirit them away," he responded.

"Like what you tried to do earlier?" You folded your arms over your chest.

"I was only doing that to showcase my talent." He huffed slightly.

"And what about literature?" You asked.

"That highly depends on each individual fairy's preference. Truth be told, I'm surprised none of you have spread stories about that-- pun not intended." He said. "But anyways, some like to place nasty traps in which if some unfortunate person opened a book, they're trapped in there forever or until the fairy decides to set them free. Others like to make it so that the book comes to life and attacks the reader, and a few prefer to make it that if you read the words aloud, the story would happen in real life."

"Interesting," you commented.

"I suppose it is," he agreed. "But I have something that I want to ask of you?"

"What is it?"

"What is your favorite color? I think it may be (F/C), but I want to be absolutely certain."

"Let me guess: it's going to be the color of my wedding dress?"

"If you want it to be," he said. "But what I had in mind was the accent colors of the decorations: like the color of the aisleway, the tablecloths, or even the color of the bridesmaids dresses."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. I want to make sure every last single detail of our big day is perfect. Even for the smallest things."

"It is (F/C)," you sighed, a cold pang of embarrassment shot through your heart.

"Oh good, for a moment I wasn't so sure." He let out a breath of relief.

You said nothing as Corvin hummed a light lullaby and came up to one of the windows, looking up towards the moon with a slight smile dancing on his lips. His white hair and skin looked even more ghostly in the silver light, making the crimson and gold of his eyes stand out even more.

"What a pleasant night," he mused. "The sky's clear so you can see the stars and it's a full moon too! I only hope our wedding night is as beautiful as this one."

A flash of anger ran up your arms and you clenched your fists tightly. Calm down, he's only doing this to get me riled up and to lose focus.

"I see," you said, trying to keep the venom leaking out.

"Something the matter? Your jaw looks a little tense," the right corner of his lips twitched further upwards.

Yeah-- you.

Corvin sighed at your lack of response and came back behind you. He put his face a little bit closer to yours, his breath tickling your (S/C) cheek. With a closer look, you saw a ruby earring in his ear that glittered against his pale skin.

Like a droplet of crystalized blood against white marble. You thought and flicked his hand away from you.

"Well, I can't say this was necessarily pleasant, but I now have to take my leave," you grumbled and stormed out of the music room.

"You sure you don't want to talk about what's upsetting you?" Corvin called out.

---

While you jogged down the hallways, the feeling of hope was swelling inside of you. Your body was clenched with excitement and relief with only one thing ringing through your mind: just find that painting and get out of here!

 Your eyes darted from side to side, looking for any paintings with a key in it. You slowed down and looked behind you. A realization hit you: why would he give you the answer so easily?

You froze up, shock shot through your back before you shook your head, snorting out of your nose as you cursed yourself for overlooking that one detail. An overwhelming wave of frustration and dread overcame you. It's going to be like that stupid wine cellar or that theater...

A low, rumbling groan came from the back of your throat and you sighed. You sat down on a nearby chair with one leg crossed over the other. If only I had a piece of iron with me, I could just go home without playing this game.

You heard the flapping of wings and you looked up to see a white raven flying over you.

"Corvin?" You called out.

The raven didn't respond as it continued down the corridor, eventually becoming swallowed up by the shadows and leaving behind only a single white plume.

That's weird. Normally, he would have made some sort of condescending comment by now. You furrowed your brows. Wonder where he's heading off too.

You began to go into the direction that the corvid was heading towards. While you walked, you reached for the pocket where your knife was, readying yourself for whatever lurks within the corridor. The only sounds was the echoing of your footsteps and your breathing. The silence was deafening, making each sound worse. As you slowly crept further down the hallway, something bronze glinted in the chandelier light.

Whipping your head, you saw a plaque that read: GALLERY hanging from the wall next to a pair of double doors with doorhandles in the shape of a paintbrush.

"Gallery?" You put your hands on your hips. "As in an art gallery?"

Does that mean it's in there? It might be a trap though.

Your limbs tensed up and your hand reached for the knife. You put your ear to the door and listened for anything on the other side of it. You couldn't make out any sound that would suggest any attackers. However, you wanted to make sure; you didn't want to repeat what happened back at the theater.

You cringed and put a hand to where you had been slashed on the leg. With a trembling hand, you anxiously slid the knife under the door, using the reflection to see any potential dangers. Painfully slowly, you knelt down besides the door and looked down at the reflection.

The angle was disorientating at first, but after a few seconds you got used to it. You carefully slid the knife around to get as clear a view as you could of the room. There was nothing that seemed out of place or dangerous. All you could see was hunter's green wall paper with an intricate floral pattern and five ivory pedestals placed at even intervals on one side of the room. On the other side of the room was a small, round rosewood table with a vase of flowers and a brass candelabra with five lit candles in it.

You waited for a few more moments to ensure that it was safe before reaching for the handle. The metal was icy-cold to the touch and almost painful. You winced slightly before pulling it open. A warm air greeted you as the door groaned and you stepped inside. Immediately, you pulled out your knife and held it in front of you.

Biting the inside of your lip, you took another step inside of the room. Your body tensed, ready for an attack. You made your way to the table, between the vase and candelabra was a pair of gold thin-rimmed glasses with round, owlish lenses.

You turned around and saw that on the right side of the room was a golden plaque that read: OFFERINGS FOR ALL OF THEM.

You froze. Your mouth was partially opened in puzzlement and you looked on your left to the pedestals. Behind them, were five paintings. The paintings were that of a pair of cracked and gray lips, a severed and rotting ear, a bloodshot eye, a veiny and discolored hand, and a cracked nose covered in small scars. All of them were overly-detailed with each grotesque feature carefully rendered, making you feel sick looking at them.

You looked back at the plaque and at the paintings. 'Offerings for all of them?' What does that even mean?

Carefully approaching the paintings, you took in every minute detail of them despite wanting to avert your eyes from them, trying to look for any hints. You put a hand to your temple and closed your eyes in concentration.

Five paintings...

Five offerings...

Wait-- these paintings represented each of the five senses! So I just need to put something on the pedestal that corresponds to that sense!

Without wasting another second, you put the candelabra in front of the painting of the hand and a vase of flower in front of the nose painting. You grabbed the glasses and carefully put it on the eye's pedestal. You winced, realizing that you had to make your way to the music room and put an instrument in front of the ear.

With an exasperated groan, you made your way back to the music room. You prayed that Corvin still wasn't there just to rub your imprisonment in your face. As you walked, you noticed that the Corvin in the painting you saw earlier was grinning even wider.

Shivering, you averted your eyes away from it and began to jog. You could feel its eyes burning on the back of your head like a snake readying to strike.

After what felt like hours, you finally were back at the music room. Immediately, you looked around for an instrument small enough to be placed on the pedestal. You caught the glint of something on your left. Sitting on a table was a long, silvery-white flute that shined in the moonlight like a sword. Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal and you carefully put the instrument into your satchel.

"Why are you back here?"

You turned around to see Corvin a few feet behind you with his hands behind his back and a devious smirk. As he approached closer, you could smell the intoxicating aroma of absinthe, wolfsbane, poppies, and smoke coming from him. It was almost strong enough to make you close your eyes and drop your guard.

"What do you want?" You spat out.

"I asked first," he chuckled, the smirk on his face becoming bigger. His eyes twinkled with a dangerous look in them and he saw the flute peeking from your satchel.

In an instant, he was within arm's length of you and he pulled the flute out of your bag. "My, what were you planning on doing with this?"

"Hey--!" You exclaimed and reached for the flute.

"Were you trying to teach yourself the flute?" He held the instrument higher over his head, his smirk was now a full-on grin.

"Just give it back!" You yelled.

"This is my flute," he corrected. "So I can do with it as I please, not you."

You turned on your heel and looked around for another small instrument. As you were about to reach out for violin, the instrument flew towards Corvin. The fairy's mischief-filled eyes were trained on you like a fox waiting to strike. Turning back around, you reached for a lyre only for that to go towards him a well. Annoyance welled in your chest and you marched over to a clarinet, and the instrument flew towards the fairy.

Every part of your body was boiling with frustration and you scowled at Corvin. He returned your look with a sly smile. After standing in silence for a few moments, he took a step towards you with a gleam in his eyes.

"You know, I'll give an instrument of your choosing to you: under one condition."

"Which is...?" You said, smothering back a groan of dismay.

"You'll have to listen to me play a song with the instrument of your choice and without covering your ears."

"How am I so sure that you aren't going to try and put me under some kind of spell?"

"I could have done that with the piano earlier, but I didn't. And besides, I've been honest with you this entire time, haven't I?"

"Yes but--"

"But what?"

"Who's to say that you wouldn't start being dishonest with me now?"

"You would have a good point, had it not been for the fact that I hold myself to my standards very strictly, and I don't plan on deviating from that any time soon," he countered.

You clenched your eyes and held your hands tightly in your lap, praying that you didn't fall into a trap.

"Fine," you hissed. "I'll listen."

"Excellent," he clasped his hands in front of him. "Now which instrument do you want to listen to?"

"Don't care. So long as I can carry it." You grumbled.

"You sure?" He said and delicately put a hand on the violin. "Don't you have at least an inclination to one of them?"

"None," you answered. "Can we just hurry this up?!"

Corvin shook his head. "My, talk about impatience."

He hummed and looked at the instruments floating in the air. Taking his time inspecting them, running his hand on their surface. You knew that he was enjoying taking his time and that you could do nothing about it.

"I haven't played the flute in a while," he mused and reached out for it. Noticing you relaxing, he quickly retracted his hand.

"Actually, maybe I want to play the violin," he said. "Although I have been playing it quite a lot recently and I want to change it up a bit. So maybe the lyre instead. However, I don't think I'm at an adequate enough level to play it for such a special audience member. Or I can go with the clarinet, although I'm not particularly a big fan of it. Decisions, decisions. decisions..."

Gritting your teeth, you folded your arms underneath your chest. Corvin noticed the glare and softly laughed, he walked behind you.

"Maybe I can play an--"

"Stop stalling and pick something already!" You yelled.

"You know what? I'll go with the flute," he said and plucked the small instrument from the air. "Now please take a seat."

You obeyed, and ironed yourself for what would come next. You squeezed your hands between your thighs and chewed on the inside of your mouth.

"Now what song to play?" Corvin mused.

You were about to say 'I don't care', but stopped yourself, not wanting to give him another excuse to waste your time.

"Mary Had a Little Lamb," you said quickly.

"Seriously?" The fairy raised an eyebrow. "Why not something that's a bit more sophisticated than some silly nursery rhyme?"

"What? You aren't going to play a simple song for me!?" You exclaimed.

"My dear, I will do anything you want me to do, except for that." He answered.

"Oh for the love of-- play Moonlight Sonata!" You shouted.

"Moonlight Sonata it is," Corvin said and with a dramatic pose, he put the flute's embouchure hole to his lips.

The aria was soft and delicate as his slight fingers pressed down on the keys, a tear was starting to form in your eye from how beautiful the performance was. You felt all of the annoyance and impatience slowly sap out of you, replaced by a surreal calmness. You focused solely on the fairy, the world around you was hazy except for him. You were about to fall asleep when he finished.

"Thank you," he bowed at the waist and extended the flute towards you.

You snatched the flute from his hand and exited the music room for the last time.

---

Looking around the room, you saw that there wasn't any food items to present to the mouth. Your heart dropped, realizing that you needed to go back to either the dining room or find the kitchen. You looked at a cookie tin that sat on a dusty shelf. Hope fluttered in your heart and you opened it only to see that it was empty, except for a few small crumbs at the bottom of it.

"Damn it," you grumbled and opened the tea can next to it, only for that to also be empty. Shaking your head, you put the container back on the shelf and moved onto a taffy box.

Please, let this be the rules of three. You prayed and slowly opened it: only to find a couple of wrappers in it.

You threw back your head and growled. You threw the box at the wall and let out a string of curses. Your shoulders tensed in disappointment and dread as your stomach was twisting and boiling. Letting out a groan through your teeth, you left the room hopefully for what would be the final time.

---

After taking a few wrong turns, you finally reached the dining room once more. You reached the doorknob and braced yourself for Corvin and his taunting remarks. Sucking up a deep breath, you opened the door slowly.

To your shock and relief, he wasn't there. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose.

Oh thank you God. You grabbed a porcelain plate and ripped off the baked goose's leg and put a bread roll on it.

"I knew you'd eventually eat," Corvin said behind you. "Come, sit down."

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him, not wanting to put up with him for any longer. You grabbed the door handle and pulled on it, it was locked. Gritting your teeth, you pulled on it harder but it remained firmly locked.

"What? Hey, open the doors!" You demanded.

"Only after you eat," he answered and poured himself some wine.

"No," you seethed.

"Then they'll remain locked," he answered coolly.

Unless you give up.

You stood in place and glared at him, not wanting to look at the cornucopia. Putting your hands in your pockets, you leaned against the wall next to the door. The minutes started to feel like days, the delectable smells of the dinner became stronger, making your mouth water. You could almost taste the buttery skin and the soft flesh of the goose, feeling the juices bursting into your mouth as you took a bite. You clenched your jaw set and crossed your arms over your chest. Corvin turned his head towards you, a smile was dancing on his face.

"If your plan is to wait until I finally open the doors, then it's not going to work. You're just wasting time. Time that could have been used for you to look for the front door key." He laughed and took a drink from his goblet.

Clamping your jaw, you sat down in the nearest chair. Your hands reached for the fork and knife, trembling as you cut a piece of goose. You glanced at the side to see Corvin watching you as he took another sip.

"Go on then," he said.

You looked down at the plate, the glistening skin of the goose looked as if it was pulsating in the light. The smell was becoming stronger. Your heart slowly thumped as you raised the morsel closer to your mouth. Your hands were shaking more as it was now barely brushing against your lips. Clenching your eyes shut, you put it in your mouth.

Your tastebuds tingled at the savory juices and the tenderness of the meat before you greedily swallowed. Without thinking, you took another bite out of the goose without bothering to chewing it. Your hunger had over came you, and you piled your plate with every food within an arm's reach. Immediately, you scarfed down your food. You were almost done with eating when you remembered why you were here to begin with. Panic stabbed through your heart and you snapped your head at Corvin; his mischievous grin was curled up even further than before.

"Didn't I tell you that nothing will happen if you eat it?" He sipped from his goblet. "Unlike some of the more loutish of my kind, I don't like spiking or cursing my guests' food. Unless they're a political enemy, in which case, it's fair game."

"Now that I've ate, are you going to finally open those doors?" You grunted.

"Of course," he said and snapped his fingers.

Quickly, you stuffed a bread roll and the plate into your satchel.

"Are you saving that for later?" Corvin tilted his head, his eyes twinkling.

You rolled your eyes and left the dining room.

---

"Here it goes," you sighed and put the plate of food on the mouth painting's pedestal. A soft click came from the door and you walked towards it.

As you were about to reach for the doorknob, you heard the sounds of mouth smacking and heavy sniffing with flute music playing behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw that the plate of food had been eaten down the very last morsel and that the flowers in the vase were limp. The paintings were now completely black, the surface rippling ever so slightly like water.

Your breath hitched and you cautiously looked back at the door. With a shaky hand, you slowly pushed the doors open

[porcelaindemoiselle]

Mental breakdown :3

[reareaotaku]

A Scary Death

I don't know if I made this obvious, but this version, Hansel and Gretel are older teens. Also, hope my writing has improved since 2021 like wow. Pt 1, Pt 2

You all were munching happily on the candy, until a clunking sounded and you looked towards the front door.

"Teenagers!"

That caught the attention of you all. The woman starts laughing as she walks down her candy path. You all quickly hide the candy behind your backs.

"Oh, I just love...." She starts spinning in a circle, before walking over to you three and yelling, "Teens!" She swishes a knife pretty close to where you three were and Hansel pulled you behind him so as to not get attacked by the crazy woman. She laughs as you all scream bloody murder, but all she did was cut off a candy cane.

"This chick is psycho," You whisper to Hansel, who nods his head in agreement.

"Try the fence, you majestic creatures."

You were confused and looked at the candy in her hand, declining the offer, but the siblings were quick to indulge in the food. You watched, seemingly the only one who was confused by the lady's actions.

Gretel thanks her, before apologizing about us screaming and Hansel quickly retorted-

"We thought you were going to chop us up." 

Which caused you elbow hit, quickly shutting him up.

"Chop you up? Why?" She chuckles. "I love teens. They're so.... Oh what's the word.... Exquisite. "

"Come in, young ones. Come, come, come." She kicks open the door, "Stay for dinner. Stay as long as you like."

You could practically see them [Hansel and Gretel] glowing with happiness. They probably thought they found a new home, but you knew better. 

"Stay forever." The woman laughs to herself, "Sit. Let me bring you a little snack. You must be hungry." She walks off to a pantry and you watch her closely.

Hansel can see your worried faced, but before he can ask if you're okay, she continues.

"What brings you to my little cottage, my sweethearts?"

"Our parents chopped our heads off," Gretel remarks, causing the baker lady to pop out of the door surprised.

"Really? How inconsiderate. Ha!"

"We're looking for the perfect family," Gretel continues, "Or at least one that won't kill us."

"Are you all siblings?"

"No!" Hansel quickly protest, shocking you, Gretel, and the Baker, "I just mean that Y/n," He gestures towards you, "Is our closet friend. No blood."

"Well, I have some cake for you now," The lady singsongs, "And just about everything you could ever desire."

Hansel looks over at you, almost love struck, but quickly looks away when you spot him. He was strange, but you could never quite figure out what relationship you had with the male.

"How's that for a happily ever after?"

You slept with your legs apart, and Hansel slept between your legs, with Gretel being the only one in a bed. All of you were filled since you ate so much of the candy in the house. You could feel Hansel move, which caused you to wake up.

You looked around the empty room, before spotting a closet and opening it to have a whole bunch of shoes collapse on you.

"How come there's a closet full of shoes?" Hansel asked, quickly waking up. "That one has a foot in it," Hansel points to a very specific, boned shoe, but Gretel was in denial.

"Everything's fine," she repeated, but you knew that was far from true.

You looked back towards Hansel, but he was already back asleep, willing to take his sister's word.

The sun rose and a bunch of food was placed infront of you. You weren't all that hungry, so when Mrs. Baker left, you gave your food to Hansel, who was chowing the food down like a vacuum. You don't think you've ever seen someone eat so quickly. He acted like he hadn't been fed in years, when he just ate last night.

Mrs. Baker comes in, while Hansel is out of it and asks for help in the kitchen, making you suspicious. It doesn't take long before Hansel is heading back up the stairs, alert and hyper, grabbing both you and Gretel.

"We have to go! She tried to cook me!"

Gretel was still out of it, asking him what was going on, but he seemed to be more worried about getting out of there. Though, a burnt-looking Mrs. Baker comes up the stairs, looking annoyed, while Hansel stood infront of you both, almost protectively.

"Oven... doors... don't... lock!" She pulls out a knife and swishes at you as you all begin to run. She opens the door to the room and walks slowly. "Do you really want to know when your parents stopped loving you? The answer is quite simple." She walks over to the window. "Obvious really. They never loved you. Never. Never. Never." 

You knew she was trying to get under Hansel's skin, but you were hoping he wouldn't take the bait.

"You know it's true."

To bad for you he did and she caught him, lifting him high up into the air before smacking her teeth and shaking the male. You feel the boned shoe under your hand, smirking while getting a quick idea.

"Eat this, you old hag!" You throw it at her, startling her. She drops Hansel, who lands on his back hard. She starts tumbling backwards, tripping on food and you and Gretel gasp, already seeing where it was going. She ends up falling out of the window, causing you and Gretel to go look out and see what happened.

She landed on the candy cane she had chopped earlier. Gretel's eyes widened at the blood and organs leaking from her stomach. Though, she tried to rationalize it by saying she's okay, but she was not okay. She ran ahead of you, while you stayed to grab Hansel's, who complained about his back. You can hear Gretel scream and you quickly rush down.

"Oh, she is not okay."

You all screamed at the gory display and Hansel seems to magically recover as he runs away first, with both you and Gretel quickly following behind.

[ragazza-whintigale]

❝ 𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 𝑂𝐶 ❞

⟣ Bacheca pinterest ⟢

⟣ Scheda Personaggi ⟢

⟣ Spotify Playlist ⟢

Personaggi originali!!!

✦⋆ FairyTale Au ⋆✦

❥ Maeve

❥ Cordalia

❥ Zadkiel

❥ Delaney

✦⋆ Dystopian Royalty Au ⋆✦

❥ Raineir

❥ Seraphine

❥ Evander

❥ Alruna

❥ Ruelle

❥ Aurelian

✦⋆ Anciet Chinese Empire Au ⋆✦

❥ Rulyan Lì Zang

Yandere Chinese Emperor! Oc x Reader ( Rulyan )

❥ Yehong

✦⋆ Obscured Au ⋆✦

❥ Reas

❥ Everest

❥ Arien

❥ Choon-Hee

❥ Seo-Ah

❥ Deyanira

❥ Ceallach

✦⋆ Cult Au ⋆✦

❥ Aonas

Tag: 🏷️

#Fairy Tale Au 🌻

#Obscured Au 🥀

#Dystopian Royalty Au 👑

#Cult Au 🛐

#Anciet Chinese Empire Au 🪷

Ultimo aggiornamento: 05 / 10 / 2024

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[yandere-wishes]

Alice in Marvel-land

𐙚Yandere! Deadpool (Wade Wilson) x Reader x Yandere Wolverine (Logan Howlett)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ In some worlds, you were Logan's little darling. In others, you were Wade's starry-eyed lover. But here in the void, there is only one of you and two of them.

⁀➷ GORE, yandere behavior, kidnapping, Deadpool being Deadpool.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ IDK, probs the Deadpool and Wolverine soundtrack

Logan feels the world slipping away.

Piece by piece, atom by atom.

In a blink, he's falling down darkness.

An endless rabbit hole.

What was the name of that fairy tale you liked so much?

The one with the girl who gets lost in splendor?

The dust is kicking up, framing the sunset portrait along the horizon.

The envoys are nearly home, this time they've brought someone back. The cage balls chime along the unsteady road. If you squint just far enough you can almost make out vibrant specks of red and yellow.

Strange, the void tends to wash out bright colors. Well, it tends to wash out just about everything.

You scrape your nails along the skeleton's sockets. Leave crescents in the decaying cartilage. "They're almost here" you call out awaiting Cassandra's next move. You watch dolefully as she's transfixed on a portal. The sparky thing unfurled like a fresh wound, strewing salt on persistent lacerations. She watches her brother, or well some variation of her brother. Surrounded by his new family, surrounded by those he loves. He's forgotten her, or maybe never even knew her. You think that the latter would hurt the most.

"Cassandra" Your voice rises in octave, this time getting her attention. "They're here".

"Coming" She sings, voice so chip it almost sounds like unshed tears. You send a final glare at the portal before it collapses on itself.

If you tried hard enough, maybe you could bring yourself to understand her pain. Those pesky notions of desperation for someone to love. But it

doesn't matter now everyone you've ever loved is dead anyway. And unlike Cassandra, you've long since given up on the childish dreams of being rescued by someone who would offer up love so freely.

"Maybe shut up now"

Logan's nerves are frying. Thin strings snapping with every syllable that leaves the red merc's mouth. He's starting to appreciate Stryker in a way he didn't even know he could. The man was a psychotic sadist but at least he knew when to sew someone's mouth shut. Maybe he can convince this Cassadra chick to do the same.

Logan's eyes are almost at 90 degrees of a roll when they stop. He stops, frozen. In the gaping mouth of the rotting skull, something all too familiar stands.

Or rather someone.

Someone he knew.

Someone he loved.

Your name tastes bitter on his tongue. All death and whisky.

Maybe cause it's been so long since the attack. Since he walked off for the night and left his family to die. Cause the last time he saw you, you were a mangled corpse laying in an open grave. Deadweight as he cradled you in his arms.

You walk closer. Face painted in too many shades of confusion.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Damn, he's started quoting that stupid book again.

"How do you know my name" You ask. You look just as beautiful as he remembers. Spine carved straight in pride with perfect lips, perfect eyes. His talons itch to glide across your soft skin, to feel you so intimately once more.

"LOOOGAN did you see what the bald chick just- HEY!!"

It takes too much effort to pull his gaze away. To stare at red and black and be reminded of cruel realities. But Wade has a tendency to be a persistent ache, some unwelcomed anchor to every problem he's ever had.

Only this time when he actually looks at him. Looks at the jittery body that's stilled abruptly. He can't help but be glad that he did. A bitter laugh bubbles in his throat. Maybe Wade's shut up for good this time.

He always knew you were special but this is truly a miracle.

"IT'S YOU!!"

Nope, didn't work. He knew he couldn't be that lucky.

Wade whispers your name, a forgotten prayer. Logan didn't even know the loudmouth knew how to pray. But he seems to almost soften when he sees you. That feral, cheeky killer, looks so so soft when he stares into your doe-eyes. Reaching out zealously to twirl a lock of your hair around his blood-soaked finger.

He can almost feel Wade choking on your essence, heart erratic, like a child finding a lost toy. He's drowning in ecstasy, and Logan is almost tempted to join him. You're here, a breath away. So close it's taking every ounce of self-control not to pull you to his chest and keep you locked between his arms until he finally dies too.

"Penunt look that's my girl!!"

"Your girl!?"

He had taken you for granted as he tends to do with most peaceful things. The realization had occurred a little too late. Right as he had been emptying a round into the target of the week's head.

He lands.

Arms high like an Olympian pleasing the crowd.

He wonders if he can make you cheer for him.

Clap and shout his name as he twirls around the mess he's made.

He wants to feel loved, although he'll never say it out loud. He's only ever been good with words when they're laced with sarcasm and profanity.

And maybe 'I love you' is just about the most obscene thing he can ever say to someone as sweet as you.

Wade plays the white rabbit, fluffy coat stained red from every kill. Tricking poor Alice into following him down cruel rabbit holes. Making you chase him through labyrinths then leaving you at every turn. He leads you to every kill, makes you watch as he dances in slaughter. He can even feel your eyes right now. Starlight slicing him open to quench vulgar interests.  

Alice always follows the rabbit.

He stalks closer, white eyes fixated on your deliciously bewildered expression. Precious thing caught in a warzone. He can almost taste you on his tongue, the sharp tip of a star slivering the inside of his mouth, soft hands painting crescent moons along the back of his neck. He needs to carve his essence across your lips, to pour the after-kill adrenaline into your soul. He needs you.

Only this time...

This time he'd been too distracted. So caught up in claiming you as his victory prize that he didn't notice the grizzled man clinging to life...

And a pistole.

The bullet punctures his shoulder. An afterthought.

But the lead keeps going.

Penetrating the air until it lands bunglingly between your eyes.

You fall into his arms.

Deadweight.

Did the white rabbit ever miss Alice?

Did he ever realize how truly special such a curious girl made him feel?

He doubts it.

Doubts that a stupid rodent would have better emotional stability than him.

He's been given a second chance. A whole plethora of them actually. He's been deemed holy, righteous. And aren't gifts of marvel bestowed upon the truly blessed? What better blessing than the sight of you standing amongst the sand and skulls?

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

He lets the blood trickle down his claws.

What else is there to do but dream of you?

It's the fourth day of his massacre and he's lost count of how many humans he's killed. Maybe cause after the first hundred the faces tend to blur.

He leaves your pleasants in between the rotting carcasses and broken glass. Only taking the torturous parts of you. The things that can hurt him. The sharp edges that he can slit his pulse point on, the vague memory of your glare before you cried. The soft skin of your neck between his jagged teeth.

Enough to keep the hate burning.

He wonders if the creatures of Wonderland wept after Alice left. He wonders if Wonderland lost its wonder.

But now you're standing here.

Alive.

And he wants so badly to remember the sweet taste of your lips. The soft push against his chapped lips as he swallows you whole. Even desperate rabbits can go a little feral. His eyes take in every breath, every scowl.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

Aliath skids forward, mystified in lightning and smoke. You feel your bones collapsing under the rugged man's, Logan's, vice grip. You thrash and scream trying to break free but he only barks out orders to his friend before they take off running.

"Your safe, don't worry we got you." There's a comedic cadence to every word Wade says. You can almost fool yourself into enjoying it if the two weren't actively attempting to defy Cassandra, to defy Aliath, to defy deities and absolutes. To ripe you away from the only semblance of opulence you've come to know.

"Let me go, you custome-wearing freaks." His gripe tenses. "Don't struggle so much, we said you're safe, now hold still" Logan's anger ripples through you. It's almost muscle memory to still, to obey.

Did you know him? Know them?

In some past life too out of reach?

The ground shutters to a jagged rhythm. You're flying up, escaping the misty horrors of the ground. Your head pounds with the force, air slapping across your body as you taste the cotton of the clouds between your teeth.

Is this how Alice felt as her head hit the roof?

Wade mutters about the stars and educated wishes. About people who live and matter. Logan slices through his thigh, the mercenary's optimism making his body ring with phantom pains.

No one matters.

And when they start to, they die.

There are cruel absolutes in this world. He's tasted them all. Let them slice his tongue and heart and danced to every tune they've sung. He rips his claws out and digs them into Wade's chest.

Again

And again.  

Wade savors the salty tang of blood inside his mouth.

Licks his teeth and runs his tongue over the gaping holes.

He's sitting in the front seat head rolled back.

High off the blood and adrenaline and the thought of having you so close.

"I take it all back, the Honda odysseys fucks hard"

Bones crack, interrupted mid-heal as Logan turns his head to glare. "Shut up" he rasps and Wade almost, almost, hears approval.

There's a low moan reverberating across the broken car. Late night sleepy mumble that's half 'I love you' and half 'I need you'. Neither one has heard it in such a long time.

"Finally awake sleeping beauty? Kinda surprised you could sleep through all of that" Wade shimmies to the back, only to be greeted by your foot smashing into his face, cracking his nose open, and sending a fresh wave of blood into his mouth. He pins your knee to the seat and wiggles himself between you. caging you with his elbows as he stares down at your pretty face. "Miss me, angel baby?"

"Wrong fairy tale" Logan turns around in his seat, claws out running them across your cheek "Please stop, just let me go" you've never begged before, never fallen so low. But these two things, mutants, mutates, or whatever they are, scare you. Reckless, suicidal, dangerous. You feel so helpless in their presence. Never knowing you're to be kissed or killed.

"You're as lovely as I remember" The melancholy colors him in a monochrome of sympathy. Here is a man who's gone through every horror and still gets out of bed. Or maybe he has to, maybe he can't quite die and can't quite reach heaven. So he gulps down his immortality with black coffee to at least pretend he's being buried six feet deep. "Even after all this time I still love you" You almost melt in his brown eyes. So lonely, so desperate.

Kill or kiss

You want him to do both. Want to kiss extinction on his lips while being impaled by the claws. Kill or kiss.

Both, both, both.

"You know~" Wade pushes himself up, "I think your dress should be red...and black. To match your favorite man."

"Who the hell said you were the favorite?" Wade leans forward, in a blink he's gripped Logan's wrist and lunged the Wolvarine's claws into your abdomen.

You writhe, the bones and metal feel almost heavenly inside of you. When he retracts the claws you moan out, it's too saccharine to hold back. Everything feels so much lighter, colorful. You feel your essence slipping out, gushing over the back seat.

Red waterfall, so pretty.

Dress stained red.

"Told ya so!"

Wade pulls you roughly by the shoulders and smashes his lips against yours. He's so cute, fickle Cheshire cat, tongue dancing across your mouth, slitting itself on your peaked teeth, and filling your mouth with thick red caterpillar smoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? You really are God's perfect idiot" Logan's anger is tangible, sweet, and bitter like hatter tea at midnight.

"S'okay Logan, it feels nice" Your words slur, slipping gauche from your tongue as you giggle profusely. You feel like Alice cracking open Wonderland's ribs, crawling inside, and smearing the wonder across your face.

"When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one" You've heard these words before, Alice's words. she's right. Your fairy tale is painted red with pretty, crazy, princes who think that slicing open a princess is easier than kissing her. You reach out for Logan, desperate for a kiss. "eat me" you mutter, and Logan's face morphs into pure terror "Wade what the hell have you done to her?".

"What? It's better this way trust me"

"I hate you"

Logan bends, meeting you halfway. He kisses you with all the wary of a dead man walking. All teeth and heart and bitter memories left to rot three lifetimes ago. He pushes himself between your bones, trying to carve out his ethos in your body. He'd burn the world so long as he gets to keep you.

You squeeze your thighs around Wade's muscular thighs and hips unlocking a gibby giggle from the man. His mask is half pulled up as he trails sloppy fervorous kisses across your neck and chest. The nostalgia slithering under your skin has you squirming, you've been through this all before. In a past life somewhere where storm monsters and voids don't exist. "Remember how good this feels?" Wade mumbles as his fingers dig into your puncture wounds, drawing slow, desperate moans from your puffy lips. You don't dare answer you don't know what would be worst admitting to liking the loudmouth ministrations or admitting there were other versions of you out there, other happy versions.

"Oh for hell's sake," Logan reclines the front seat and shuffles closer. Pulling down the back of your dress. His kisses are bite marks in disguise rabid and feral, the two things the man will never escape. His name rolls across your tongue, you let it slip in an airy moan. "No fair " Wade complains "I want you to say my name too." He pulls out his baby knife and etches the skin of your thighs. Scribbling doodles of stars and half hearts and the little symbol he wears on his belt. "W-wade" you gasp never knowing whether to scream in pain or giggle in bliss.

Logan laughs into your neck. You didn't even know he was capable of such a gentle thing. You bite his lip playfully. Dragging your fingers across his muscular arms. Your thumb pushes into the space between his knuckles asking for the claws. For the most macabre parts of him. You glide your tongue across the parish where flesh meets metal. Kissing the metal and bones and lapping at the blood. Watch curiously as he draws out a long airy sigh. "Good girl" he mumbles voice marred with ecstasy and you almost see the ghost of a smile smear across his pretty lips.

Wade's thumb gently rubs against your hips. Softly usering you into peace, tranquility. Your eyes get heavy, the car gets blurry. The grotesque realignment of their bones steering you into a deep, content sleep.

"Hey Peanut, you think Alice in Wonderland here would mind if we keep going? "  

"Shut it, moron "

"Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if only I knew how to begin.”

🎀Bonus

Deadpool: "Do you think the author's going to write about us again? Or is she planning to finally write that Dune fic she keeps talking about?

Wolverine: "I have no fucking idea what the hell you're even talking about.

🪐@yandere-romanticaa @bad4amficideas @sugarplumz100 @oscarissac2099 @facelessfionna @siphite @tocotuesday69 @linoleunm @mei-simp @shamelessdarkprince @gabriqllas @lovely-liliacs @shiroi-asashin17 @failinguniversity

[shiny-jr]

I’ve just had a vision, what if a yan (e.g riddle or vil because they are most princess-ish) was a trapped in a castle away like in one of those stereotypical fairy tales and the reader decides to save them because they are a ‘damsel in distress’ and reader is like a hero… only to realise there is a reason why they were locked away (because they were batshit crazy)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: You are a thief with freshly stolen goods. Chased and hunted down, you avoid capture by finding a castle hidden in gloom and fog. Locals told legends of this place, saying a royal had been trapped within. Of course, you don't quite believe such tall tales. That is, until you discover the royal and learned that they were purposefully sealed inside...

Note: I think I'll call this one, not your valiant savior. It's just a placeholder name for now. Just a quick post, so sorry if it's bad.

It was too easy. What did they expect when they left out a priceless object owned by the royal family and estimated to be worth a fortune? Of course a famed thief on the loose such as yourself, would just be itching to snatch the relic. And snatch you did, living up to your reputation of thief. Each member having unique abilities to assist in stealing. Your mother had speed to outrun anyone in a chase, your grandfather had the talent of picking any locks, your great-grandmother could sweet-talk anyone then rob them blind. And so on and so forth.

And of course, you had your own talent. As quiet as a mouse and with fingers that stuck to valuables like glue, stealing became like second nature. Literally. However, it wasn't exactly a talent valued by the wider community, and if you stole enough you could end up on terribly drawn wanted posters. Which is why staying in one place wasn't wise.

From place to place, you went taking and claiming anything of worth. When you got very low on cash, you set your sights high: on the vault that stored the royal's priceless treasures. There was bound to be endless riches stored within, if only you could get your grubby hands on them. Well, after careful planning, you had. It wasn't a giant gem or sack full of gold.

Time was short, so you had grabbed the closest thing you could before guards could find you. A golden box encrusted with jewels. Who knew what was inside? Maybe some family heirloom, a magical artifact, or something else of high value. And with the box, you bolted, and the chase had begun out of the city and through the woods.

As fast as you could, you ran through the mystic woods, a forrest travelers and locals alike were all wary of. It was the safest place you could go when chased by frightening palace guards on horseback that would do anything to take back what you stole and drag you back to the gallows. Even the woods heavy with fog and dark from the clouds overhead, had deterred your pursuers enough for you to slip out of their reach and deeper into the forrest where there was no way they would be able to track you. Here, you would have to wait until tomorrow and depart early. Then, you'd be home free and rich beyond your wildest dreams.

After what felt like hours of walking, you stumbled upon a bridge over a gloomy lake. In the middle, sat an old castle of gray stone and dark windows. A castle once said to hold a royal captive, but of course, you didn't believe such stories that were so old they were told to your own grandparents. This castle would be your sanctuary for the night. And maybe, just maybe, you'd clutch the jeweled box and dream of simpler times when you were told fairytales of locked away royals waiting for a savior.

The castle was exactly like those set in spooky tales, haunted by vengeful spirits and claimed by ghosts. It appeared abandoned, that much was obvious by the crumbling stone bridge and the battered old wooden doors that once protected the inhabitants.

Cautiously stepping over the splintered debris of the front door, you didn’t bother boarding it up since no one would be stupid enough to follow you inside.

There was wreckage and ruin everywhere. If you had to guess, whatever happened here, whether the people were driven away by conflict or time, it was followed by the destruction of time. Time with weather were likely all factors that led to the disarray of what was probably once a grand estate. Strangely enough, there was furniture and decor. Everything coated in dust and grime, but still here. Had people been too afraid to enter the grounds? There were so many valuables that could've been looted!

"I'll definitely have to come back here later." You scoff, turning over a few clothes or broken furniture with your foot to uncover possible hidden goodies. Maybe something as small but valuable as a ring was lost somewhere on the ground.

Proceeding to carry the golden box under your arm, you decide to search for the cleaniest, not-so-moldy room where you could spend the night. On the third floor halls, you see ripped curtains and frames where portraits loosely hung. Every rug was brown with dirt and dust.

There were items left behind, which showcased the life one led here. A piano too big to steal, the skeleton of a chandelier and broken gems hanging from its limbs, empty glass perfume bottles now filled with dust. The place must've been wondrous once, but now it was like a tomb. A setting frozen in time.

When you found moonlight filtering through the open balcony of what looked to be the master bedroom, you paused to see the space wrecked more than the others. As if more than just weather and time had affected this place. The owner of this castle likely slept in this very room, on that very bed where the sheets were ruffled and unkempt.

"I wonder who used to live here..." You murmur to no one in particular, as you approach the balcony looking over the bridge and woods. This would be a good vantage point.

A heavy fog settled over the woods, extending over the bridge like water. Good, an extra layer for cover. You stepped back into the room, analyzing every carved piece of wooden furniture, makeup and brushes stored on tabletops, a separate room as long as a hallway and filled with all types of articles of clothing.

If all this was still here, then was it possible some jewelry was left behind? You scoured the room, looking for hidden compartments while murmuring to yourself to fill the ominous silence. As you pulled back a curtain against a wall, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw an uneven lump underneath the wallpaper.

Could this be handle leading to a vault of treasures? With that in mind, you ripped off the old wallpaper. A glimmer of gold made your heart soar with hope, but when you caught sight of your reflection, you stopped and stared. A mirror. It was a large mirror, oval shaped, with golden borders so intricately decorated. However, when a hand suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror, like a ghostly apparition, you screamed and stumbled back.

A hand– there was a hand in the mirror! You stared with widened eyes full of shock, as the hand pressed its palm against the surface of the glass. You couldn't see anything else, no one behind the hand. After a second, the slim pale hand delicately pointed a long dainty finger at the box you were holding in a vice grip.

"What...? This? You want this? But..."

You had worked hard to procure this golden box from the royals. Pursing your lips, you contemplated your options, with so many questions running rampant in your mind. What was that thing? A magic mirror? A magic mirror would be priceless, much more valuable than any gold. However, if it was magic, it would be tricky. Possibly even sentient. So you'd have to gain its favor.

"Alright, alright, the box. You know, I went through hell trying to get this."

You informed the mirror, unsure if it even understood you. You carefully set down the heavy box in front of the mirror, and watch as the hand made a motion with its fingers.

Click!

It had unlocked the box, without even a key or tool. A grin broke out on your face. Had it done it for you? Apparently not, because the box opened on its own and a heavy thick tome floated out from it and into the air. The hand beckoned the tome closer, and closer it came, until it was literally phasing through the glass.

"Hey! Wait––"

The glass shattered, the sound booming and ringing out in the silence like an explosion. You only had a second to react, instinctually using your arms to shield your face from the glass flying out in every direction. When it stopped, you looked around. The mattress was shredded, the curtains torn to shreds, wooden furniture cut as if done by an axe, but miraculously you were somehow unharmed.

A breath, not of your own, caught your attention. Your eyes darted over to the now broken mirror, awestruck at the vision of a figure stepping over broken glass. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, more than any words could convey. Their hair like gold and eyes an alluring shade of purple like two amethyst stones, soft pink lips, and a tall slim pale figure clothed in odd robes. For a moment, whoever this person was, appeared disoriented for a brief moment, but they clutched the tome like a lifeline. The tome that came from the box you had stolen.

"Thank you––"

He breathed, his voice quiet as he attempted to stand tall and upright. When his legs nearly gave out beneath him, you were there to catch his hand and prevent him from falling as he looked at you with appreciation. You were just stunned, bewildered, in pure disbelief.

"You... You freed me. You returned my stolen tome...!"

He exclaimed in disbelief, as he restored his posture. Somehow, he was able to stand in heels, but heels were currently one of the least important details.

What did he mean freed?

There was no time to ask any questions. The loud sound of the shattering must've alerted any of your pursuers that had followed you thus far, because from the balcony you could make out the torchlights weaving their way directly towards the bridge.

The mysterious man from the mirror took notice of your expression of dismay as he glanced at the distant torchlights. Smoothing out his robes, he looked back at you and took in your expression. "Enemies of yours?"

"Yes..." You nod slowly.

"Now that just won't do. I can't have anyone harming, or even killing my savior. I've yet to even learn your name." Tapping some well-manicured fingers against the spine of the tome, he appeared to contemplate something. When he stopped tapping his fingers, he smiled so sweetly. "I am Vil Schoenheit, prince and prodigy. Here's my proposition to you, my savior: I will destroy your enemies for a small price. You must tell me your name, and I will grant you my protection."

Of course you gave him your name, and almost immediately you saw the fog below turn an odd color. The torchlights flickered out, you no longer heard their encouraged shouts to move forward but instead their screams echoing in the dark woods. All after Vil murmured a few words in a foreign tongue read from his tome, as he continued to gaze at your intently. What exactly was he to cause so much death in a single instant with hardly any effort...? And you were stuck in this abandoned castle with him.

The prince had no plans to abandon you, he's made that much clear when you attempted to casually part ways after thanking him for getting rid of your pursuers. Stay. I can make it worth your while. Once I reach my former glory, you'll be able to bask in it with me. Is what he said as you swore you heard the front of the castle be sealed shut.

The entire time he looked around the castle with disdain, cross as he complained about the state of his home. While helping him clean up some rooms, he told you more about himself. Vil was a prince who once lived in this castle, set to inherent the throne shortly after the death of his father. However, he was widely feared due to being a prodigy in dark magics and genius at brewing concoctions. For attempting to steal the life of a younger kinder foreign prince who specialized in good magic, he was trapped in a mirror with his tome being the only key to grant him freedom.

Vil actually appeared to be much too fond of you, which you attributed to his isolation. If you were imprisoned all alone in a mirror for centuries, you likely would've gone insane. It was a miracle Vil's mind was intact, but maybe he wasn't there entirely. Because what sane person killed people with the snap of their fingers while smiling so kindly at the one who set him free?

Pridefully he listed off his feats and accomplishments. Living prodigy. Most beautiful man in the land. Prince of the land. It felt too much like flaunting, as he wanted you to realize how truly great he was. He replaced your clothes with his own, and while combing your hair he reminded you that what's rightfully his will be returned to him one day, and you would be there beside him that day.

The crown was what he wanted, a crown he believed was stolen from him and passed down to the descendants of the very good prince he attempted to kill. He spoke of a future in the castle restored to its former glory, where citizens would be loyal to him once again, and those that wronged him will receive a fate worse than death. Positions were open for applying once he became king, he told you one day. He was still searching for a vassal, a knight, a jester, or a partner to wear a crown as well.

Was it the isolation that had driven him to become so attached to the one who set him free? It was possible, but you couldn't even be sure. For all you knew, he could've been like this before he became trapped in the mirror. What mattered now was that he did not make any effort to hide his attraction towards you. Vil was offering a thief all the riches he would attain after his plan for vengeance, and his heart in a golden box.

"Keep the knives I gifted you, although I doubt you'll have to resort to lifting a finger. Just allow me to handle it when the time comes. I want to extract vengeance slowly and painfully, make them hurt just as they did to me... And at the end of the day, you will be there, you little thief who stole my affections, to comfort me and drive away those memories of cold lonely centuries in darkness. You'll be there for me, won't you, my valiant savior?"

[yanderenightmare]

ooooh what kinda mythic creatures are the jjk boys?

Gojo, Sukuna, Toji

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Gojo Satoru Hybrid between angel and human

His hair is pearlescent and so are his wings—soft feathers, sharper than blades when he wants them to be. His halo can only be spotted when the sun shines extra bright—like a ring of stardust slowly orbiting his crown.

He doesn’t know his parents, nor which one of them was the angel. But it’s not something he cares much about. People call him Icarus, and he tries to live up to it the way he drowns himself in another’s embrace every new night—never the same one.

Never the same one until you. Another hybrid. No part of Angel, though…

He falls in love with it—all of it—the points of your teeth, the tiny horns that protrude from your hairline, the slim tail adorned with that pretty arrowhead, and the equally sharp look in your eyes as you glare at him with disgust.

He wants to know more. Do have markings in unseen places? How far does your tongue stretch, and is it split down the middle like with a snake? Is it venomous? Is it sweet? Does your skin burn to the touch like the sun does when he flies too close? Or will it be warm and soft and pliable?

He and his angel eyes freak you out. You advise him to leave you alone, the point of your tail threatening to slice his throat open. You’ve been shunned enough by humans—you don’t need to add a snooty angel boy to the fray. 

But then he calls you beautiful. And no one’s called you beautiful before.

Ryomen Sukuna Hellhound

The few times humans have dared try to tame him have all been devasting days of fire and death. Silly humans, thinking they can make him do his bidding like another mutt on a leash—he’ll make them all burn.

But then there’s you. You’re not like the other humans. You don’t come to him with any intention of collaring him. Instead, you have your hands folded together in prayer—sweet scripture leaves your lips, soothing his singed skin until it stops burning.

You wear holy robes and a kind smile on your face, you don’t avert your eyes even as he glares at you with the embers in his own, even as he growls and bares teeth. You don’t ignore him when he speaks, either, even when his tongue comes out split through the middle and all his words reek of smoke. You bathe him in holy water and rinse the soot out of his fur—telling him he’s a good boy.

He feels no desire to bite your hand as you pet his head and stroke his ears—he just ends up wagging his tail. But then again… he is still a hellhound. And you should know better than to feed monsters in the dark…

He leaves his room in the chapel and sniffs yours out—nothing, not even so much as a seal on your door to keep him out. You have too much faith. Your door creaks open, but you remain peacefully asleep—all soft snores as he mounts you with drool dripping down his canines…

Fushiguro Toji Hunter

Rumor has it that something far worse than ogres and trolls travel the forest. Beware of the hunter—all you little nymphs, fauns, and fairies. Some say he’ll stuff you in a bag and sell you, while others argue it’s his appetite that makes him hunt—some even mean it’s just for sport, that he’ll kill and stuff you and mount your head on the wall.

You, a poor forest nymph, are unfortunate enough to get yourself caught in one of his nets. You’re a crying little mess by the time he comes around—begging him not to sell or eat or skin or harvest your wings, barely breathing between the words.

He chuckles and promises you he won’t do any of that stuff, but the smile on his face is enough to convince you he’s possessed by some sort of demon. And as he hauls you up on his shoulder and starts carrying you further into those places you’ve never dared venture, into the thicker parts of the forest where the trees all seem riddled with some type of disease—you can’t help but believe all those rumors you’d heard.

He tells you that his snares and nets are meant for rodents and that he didn’t think fae-folk were dumb enough to get themselves caught by them as he starts cutting into the net to free you—only, he doesn’t stop at the net—but goes for your slik garb next. Whistling as he bares your pretty skin while pinning your small wrists above you in one meaty hand.

His grin is sharper than his knife when he advises you not to struggle, saying he would feel awful if he were to accidentally cut you.

♡ Nanami, Fushiguro, Naoya ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[monstersholygrail]

Monster Fics

Fics:

Dinner is served (Minotaur × fem!reader)

Just being neighborly (Orc x yandere fem!reader)

Little hatchlings (Dragon x fem!reader)

Tying you up (Yandere Centaur x fem!reader)

Heads or tails? (Dragon x fem!reader)

In the darkness (Shadow Demon x fem!reader)

The venom’s test (Naga bf x fem!reader)

Bite me baby (Werewolf bf x Vampire fem!reader)

A surprise visit (Tentacle Monster x fem!reader)

The mist switch (Male Fairy x Elf fem!reader)

Stuck on the edge (Gorgon bf x fem!reader)

Proper appreciation (Dragon husband x fem!reader)

New city, new life (Various monsters x fem!reader): part1 part2 part3

Requests:

Firefighter centaur (Centaur x gn!reader)

Perfection to me (Monster bf x fem!reader)

Trusting the siren (Siren bf x gn!reader)

Shifting slime (Slime monster gf x fem!reader)

His human (Siren bf x deaf gn!reader)

Scent obsessed (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)

This fire of mine (Dragon bf x Fairy dragon fem!reader)

Gaining balance (Dragon bff x Giant fem!reader)

Wall-fucking Bastien (Gargoyle OC bf x fem!reader)

Surprise monster birthday (Monster bf x gn!reader)

Monster relaxation (Monster bf x gn!reader)

Drunk vampires (Vampire bf x fem!reader)

Monster Harem

Taking you home (Gargoyle x fem!reader)

The lawyers retainer (Faerie x gn!reader)

The witches wolves (Werewolf Pack x fem!reader)

Genie in a bottle (Ghost x fem!reader)

Summoning a himbo (Demon bf x gn!reader)

Like in the movies (Lich/Skeleton bf x gn!reader)

Ask nicely (Monster bf x gn!reader)

Ghostface Roleplay (Tentacle Monster bf x gn!reader)

Blurbs/Imagines:

Kissing your drider (drider x gn!human)

Werewolf/Vampire bf period eating out (Werewolf x Vampire x fem!reader)

Monsters reacting to you getting hurt pt 1

Vampire cockwarming (Vampire x fem!reader)

Full moon but you’re the one chained up (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)

Fourth of July w/ Monster bf (Monster bf x fem!reader)

Teasing the monster under your bed (Tentacle monster x fem!reader)

[Commission] First time having period sex w/ Monster bf (Monster bf x fem!reader)

Cuddles with your Werewolf (Werewolf x fem!reader)

Dominating your monsters (Vampire x Fae x fem!reader)

Down days with your bf (Monster bf x gn!reader)

Slime mixture (Snail Hybrid bf x Slime Monster fem!reader)

Just one drop (Vampire bf x fem!reader)

Monsters being nerds

Taking a walk (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)

Submissive Orc (Orc bf x fem!reader)

Seeing the sunrise (Vampire bf x fem!reader)

Ride with the Orc Professor

In a free use city (monster bosses x gn!reader)

[darkbluekies]

Cannot take what was never meant to leave

Yandere!king OC x fem!fairy!reader

Summary: Edmund walks out in the forest and finds something he never seen before: a tree fairy. Upon learning that he can't take her as long as her tree is there, he does the only thing he can think of.

Warnings: Edmund is a bit more insane than usual, reader is in a lot of pain, kidnapping, basically killing, use of an ax

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: this is HEAVILY inspired by Erutan's song "The Willow Maid"!! I have absolutely loved that song for ages, and after seeing PurestarMedia's music video of it on YouTube, I had to write something!! Edmund felt like the perfect fit for it!!

Summer is almost over. He can tell by a slight shift in the winds that colder times are approaching, even though barely any of the trees show any signs of autumn. He can't wait until he can bring out his thicker coat. He likes the colors of it much more.

Ten men he brought with him on his hunt for rabbits. They've decided to go into another part of the forest in hopes of finding anything.

Suddenly. A sound.

“Shh!” Edmund hushes and holds up a hand, signaling the others to stop.

He listens closely. It sounds like humming. It's a tune he has never heard before, but one that feels weirdly familiar — as if he has heard it in a dream or past life.

Quietly, they follow the sound until they reach a field full of small, white flowers. In the middle of the white field stands a tree with dark leaves. A scene taken straight out of one of the paintings hanging on the castle walls. Edmund notices someone sitting by the foot of the tree, resting among the roots. A woman?

The group of men creep closer. The woman is lying on the tree roots, leaning her head against the tree trunk, having a root under her knees for support. She's dressed in a long, white gown reminding Edmund of the small flowers. On her head rests a flower crown made of the very flowers. Her eyes are shut. Her mouth hums. 

A fairy.

One of Edmund’s men steps onto a branch on the floor, which snaps in half and pulls the fairy out of her thoughts. Her eyes snap open, revealing them to be deep and dark — and full of fear. She shoots up from her root and stumbles backwards, hiding behind her tree.

“Who are you?” she asks quickly. “What do you want?”

“You are a fairy”, Edmund says, still in disbelief.

“Yes … what do you want?”

“Have you seen any rabbits around here?”

She peeks out from behind the tree.

“What do you want them?” she asks and seems to notice the rifles hanging over their shoulders. “I'm not assisting you in killing harmless creatures.”

Edmund meets her dark eyes. They're hypnotic.

“You humans are despicable sometimes”, she says. “Killing innocent creatures who haven't done anything to you.”

“If I wouldn't, someone else would — man or animal.”

“I want you to leave.”

“Yeah, we should move on. We have rabbits to hunt.”

He can feel her eyes burn through his back as he walks back over the field of white flowers. He hopes that she will watch him until he disappears into the forest.

“Did you have a good hunt, your majesty?” his secretary asks as Edmund and his ten men come back to the castle.

“Caught a few rabbits”, he answers and smiles, thinking of the memory. “We encountered a fairy.”

They start to walk inside. 

“A fairy?” the secretary asks and holds the door into the castle open for the young king.

“What do you know about fairies?” Edmund asks. 

They walk down the large hall.

“I know that, like humans, there are different types of fairies”, the secretary says. “You found her in the woods, you said?”

Edmund nods. 

“She’s probably a tree fairy”, the secretary continues. 

“Yeah, she was sitting by a tree … almost like it was holding her”, Edmund says, furrowing his dark brows as he thinks about it. 

He holds out his arms as if he was carrying a woman, imagining her knees bending over his right arm and her back supported by his left … her head resting on his shoulder — like she had done to the tree bark. 

They walk into Edmund’s office, closing the door behind them. 

“What do you know about tree fairies?” Edmund asks and throws himself in his chair. 

“I know that they live in the woods and that they are connected to a particular tree. They feed off of sap from the tree and flower nectar — and if their tree bears fruit they eat that too.”

“What happens if they eat something else? Like meat? Or potatoes?”

“I don’t know, your majesty.”

“Would it kill them, do you think?”

“Perhaps. What I do know kills a tree fairy is killing their tree.”

Edmund looks up at him. “What?” 

“Their life source is connected to their tree. They live as long as their tree does.”

“So you’re saying that a fairy can become hundreds of years? Thousands even?”

“Could be.”

“Interesting.” He sighs and throws his head back. “You should have seen that thing. Before she noticed us she looked so … peaceful. She was resting and humming a tune. When she realized that we were there she flew up and hid behind her tree. All of that seemed so young and naive. Her tree wasn’t that large either. I think I’ve found myself a young fairy.”

“The fairy seems to interest you.”

“I’ve always wanted to meet a fairy. I didn’t believe that they actually existed. But now, I’ve found one. I think that I’m going to make her my wife.”

The next day, he returns with his ten men and his secretary, dressed in his autumn coat. On the way to the glade, Edmund picks a few flowers with the biggest nectars he can find, hoping that they will be a good enough gift. He is going to ask her to marry him. 

She is walking around the white flowers, picking up a few and putting them in her flower crown. She looks up as they come. This time she doesn’t look as startled, but there’s something wary in her eyes. 

She’s beautiful and delicate, there’s no denying. Edmund needs her. Every fiber of his body needs her. She needs to be his wife, to be the mother to his children. He refuses to leave without her. 

“What brings you back?” she asks as Edmund gets close enough, but doesn’t sound like she wants to know. 

He can tell that she wants to get back to her tree. She gives it quick glimpses and takes small steps back towards it. 

Edmund holds out the flowers towards her. She hesitates before taking them out of his hand. Her fingertips barely graces his skin. Her touch is humanlike, kind and delicate. 

“Thank you”, she says and smells them softly. 

He smiles. He wants nothing more than to hug her, to hold what belongs to him in his arms, but he has to ask the question first.

“I want you to marry me”, Edmund says. 

The fairy drops the flowers in shock. They disappear underneath the small, white ones. Edmund furrows his brows.

“Marry you?” the fairy repeats, shocked. “How could I possibly-? No, no, I shall not.”

Edmund stares at her, eyes darkening, unable to understand how anyone could turn down his proposal. Women would travel far and wide to hear those words come from his mouth, and this fairy — who does she think she is — doesn’t even think twice before rejecting him. It should crush him, but instead it has the opposite effect. He will not leave without his fairy. 

He looks over his shoulder, at his ten men. “Seize her.”

Just as the ten men are about to grab the fleeing girl, his secretary grabs his shoulder. 

“Your majesty, don’t”, he says quickly. “That won’t be possible. She can’t leave the glade.”

“What do you mean?” Edmund scoffs.

“She’s connected to that tree.” He nods towards the tree in the middle of the field. “She can’t leave it.”

Edmund glares at the tree. That damn tree. The woman runs through the flowers towards her tree, hugging it tightly. Edmund finds it humorous how she thinks a simple tree could protect her. He could do it a hundred times better, will do it a hundred times better. 

He sees how she sinks down by the tree, huddled up by the tree bark, crying. Soon, she will search for comfort in him, not a damn tree. 

“We can’t take her”, the secretary says. “I don’t know what would happen if we tried, but as long as that tree is there, we can’t remove her.”

Edmund doesn’t answer as he walks back into the forest. The ten men follow him. His secretary keeps a distance. Edmund feels like he could explode with anger. He had pictured himself leaving the forest with his new fiance hand in hand. But he will not give up. He will get his fairy. 

He returns a third time the next day. This time he’s by himself … and this time, he’s brought an ax. Determined to take her with him. She will be his wife. This time, he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. He will not walk away empty handed. The thought consumes him as he marches through the forest, towards the glade. 

He can see her lying in the same spot he had seen her the first time. This time, she’s not humming. She opens her eyes as he gets nearer and jumps to her feet as her eyes fall on the sharp edge of the ax. 

“No!” she screams in pure panic. “No, what are you doing?! Don’t!”

Edmund lifts his hands and lands a blow on the bark, cutting away a piece. To his right, the fairy screams in agonizing pain and clutches her heart. He continues to hit the tree. The woman continues to scream. She cries in pain. 

It takes longer than he expects. He takes his eyes off the deep cut in the tree and turns them towards her. She’s lying between the roots, curled up with her hands pressed against her heart, crying and screaming. 

“Please stop!” she screams and sobs so that her entire body trembles. “Y-You’ll kill me! Please s-stop, please! I’m begging y-you!”

If he continues to hit the tree, she will die. 

Edmund will have to bring a piece of the tree with him and replant it in his castle’s garden so that it doesn’t die — so that she doesn’t die. He continues to chop. She continues to scream, cry and plead for him to stop. 

A loud creaking echoes through the air. He watches as the tree bends in half and falls. The fairy stumbles upon weak legs and hugs her fallen tree, sobbing. 

With the ax, Edmund manages to dig up root systems of the tree. He holds it in his left hand and grabs the fairy’s wrist tightly with his right. He yanks her up on her feet. 

“You belong to me now”, he says. 

She only sobs for an answer. She tries reaching out for her tree, but Edmund pulls her with him. She stumbles. He drags her into the forest. 

“Please …”, she sobs. “Please …”

He doesn’t know what she begs for. The tree is fallen, he can’t undo what he has done. 

“Please, I’m in so much pain”, she pants. 

He doesn’t listen, doesn’t have time for it. He has to get her to the castle, where he can lock her in, so that she can’t escape out to the forest again. 

He can feel her collapse. Edmund gasps and watches her lie lifeless on the ground. He shoves the tree roots in his pocket and hurries to check her pulse. She’s still living, for now. Edmund stresses to pick her up. Her limp body rests in his arms as he runs out of the forest, towards the castle. 

He runs into the castle yard, into the hallways and out to the garden. He lays the fairy down on the grass and hurried to dig a hole with his hands. Oh, how he hates the feeling of dirt under his nails. He can’t think about that now. 

He places the root in the hole and covers it with the soil. Edmund runs over to the fountain, cups his hands and fills it with water. He runs back and forth until enough water has been poured over it. He feels for a pulse on the fairy’s neck. There’s still a faint pulsation underneath his fingers. He removes his coat and places it on the ground beside the tree root before lifting the fairy onto it. He caresses her face. 

“You actually got her.”

He looks over his shoulder at his secretary. He stands there, looking at them in disbelief and horror. 

“Is she dead?” he asks. 

“No, not yet”, Edmund replies  breathlessly. “I brought a piece of the tree here and I have replanted it. She should survive. But we need flowers — lots of flowers. And anything else a fairy might eat. We need to nurture her back to life.”

“I’ll prepare some honey water, I think that should be drinkable.”

Edmund sits by the fairy, waiting patiently. 

Hours go by. She doesn’t move. Barely breathing. Edmund wonders if he she has fallen into some kind of limbo, where the tree is barely alive, and so is she. If the tree doesn’t survive, neither will she. He has to nurture both. 

He feeds the tree water and nutrient dense soil and tries to pour droplets of honey water into the fairy’s mouth. Sometimes she responds by swallowing softly, and sometimes let it drip out of her mouth. 

Hours turn to days. Days to weeks. As the tree slowly grows roots in Edmund’s soil and become stronger, so does the fairy. Edmund doubts that she will ever become as strong as she was before. The tree will never be in its full glory again, and neither will she. She can’t walk, her body is too weak to move more than a few minutes. He lets her rest by her short stub. When he can’t stay with her, he watches from afar, from one of the windows. She’s always curled up, hugging her stomach as if she’s got cramps. The poor thing never smiles anymore. 

He holds a glass of warm honey water in his hands as he walks out to the petty excuse of a tree. It'll take years to become as big as it originally was, but it will never be the original tree.

“Hi”, Edmund says softly and sits down beside the fairy, holding the cup to her dry lips.

She doesn't seem to care what she gets fed anymore. Maybe she hopes that it will kill her.

In a sense, Edmund has killed the fairy.

She drinks slowly.

“I don't know what to feed you when winter comes”, he says. “I have harvested a lot of nectar and sap, but I don't know how long that will be good for.”

A tear runs down her cheek. Edmund wipes it carefully.

“My fairy, don't worry”, he whispers reassuringly. “I will figure it out.”

He wishes that she could respond, but he hasn't heard her voice since that day she screams in pain — when he killed her.

He stands up, gives her forehead one last kiss before walking back inside. In the beginning, he used to have guards watch over the garden to make sure that she wouldn't run off, but he realized that as long as that tree is there, she isn't going anywhere.

[starsandink13]

The White Crow Game Chapter 2

You woke up with a sudden start and your eyes flashed open. You sucked up a deep breath as you jolted upwards. Your shoulders heaved as the faint memories of what transpired looped in your head. Underneath your fingers, you felt a soft velvet upholstery.

"W-what?" You squinted your eyes and looked around.

Although it was dark, you could clearly tell that you were no longer in your workplace's restroom, but rather an old parlor room. The furniture was expensive and antique, dating back to at around the early 1900s or late 1800s. Even in the dark, you could see how rich the colors of the furniture was. You ran your finger against the velvet once more, feeling an intricate damask pattern.

"Glad to see that you've finally woken up, (Y/N)," a voice said from behind you.

You whipped your head around to see an extremely tall man turning on the tassel light next to his chair. He wore a red and gold coat with a black top hat that casted half of his face in shadows. Pinned to his hat and white shirt were black broaches with a golden moon and eye in them. He held an unearthly and eldritch beauty to him, with ghostly white hair that framed his pale face, sharp features, and red eyes with gold rings in them. His lips were pulled into a slight smile as he reclined further into his seat.

"Where am I?" You asked, unable to keep the dread creeping into your voice.

"An estate of mine that's on the border between realms," he answered calmly, took off his hat, and brushed back a lock of hair that revealed a pointed ear.

"W-what the--"

"What am I?" The stranger cut you off and crossed one of his legs over the other. "I believe that you humans call my kind the good-folk, the fair-folk, the fae, or most commonly: fairies."

Before you could ask, he spoke again: "And you're wondering why you're here, am I right?"

You numbly nodded your head, your mind racing with countless questions as you tried to process what was going on.

"Well to put it simply: I am here to collect your debt."

"D-debt?"

"You wished for your life to improve, grades to rise, a higher pay, better living quarters, and the internship of your dreams," he waved his hand. "I overheard you and granted that wish, so now it's time to collect that debt."

"Wait!" You stammered. "But I didn't make any sort of deal with you or anything! This is hardly fair!"

"Sorry dear, but you should have been more careful with your wishing. However, I am far more fair and generous compared to other members of my kind. I didn't suddenly make your life much worse than it was, steal your firstborn, or strike you with a terrible ailment the next week. "

"How can I repay you then? Money? A yearly sacrifice? A--"

"You'll have to come with me back to the fae realm."

"What? Why for?"

"What do you think it might be for?" The fairy's eyes glittered with amusement. "Think about all of the old stories that humans have told for centuries about us; long before you imagined us as tiny, glittery, winged people that frolicked in flowers and played silly little pranks."

"A- a servant?"

"Good guess, but that's not it."

Your stomach dropped at what he meant. Swallowing back the lump in your throat, you barely managed to stammer out: "The reason you're doing this-- why you want to take me away...is to get a bride, right?"

"Correct."

Your heart dropped and you leaned away from the fairy. The thought of being taken away to a land far from your home, married to that monster and left at its mercy with no hope of escape made your stomach turn and churn. Sweat rolled down your forehead and you gripped your knees as you breathed heavily and tears started to form in your eyes.

There's got to be a way out of here! Think, damn it, think!

"If we're done here, then I'll prepare a coach and start wedding--"

"Wait." You spoke up.

"What is it?"

"Your kind likes to play games and bets, right?"

"Yes they do-- however, I am an exception to the rule," he said. "But for you, I am willing to hear where you're going with this."

You licked your lips and took a deep breath. Your heart drummed against your chest as blood pounded in your ears and gripped your knees. His dual-colored eyes twinkled with amusement as he tapped his long fingers against the arm of his chair. 

"If I can escape this mansion of yours, you'll have to let me go," you chewed the inside of your mouth. "If I lose or I give up..."

"You'll have to come with me," he finished with a small smile.

You nodded your head, trying to keep yourself from vomiting the bile in the back of your throat. The fairy noticed your consternation and grinned wider, his teeth glinted like white daggers in the dim light.

"And why should I agree to this little game of yours when I can just spirit you away right now?" He leaned in.

"You pride yourself on being more generous and just compared to other fairies, so wouldn't it be fair to give me a chance to earn my freedom?"

"I suppose so," he mused and drummed his index finger harder against the chair's arm. After several seconds, he sighed and gently straightened up the front of his coat.

"I accept to play your game. But before we do that, I want to establish a few rules."

"What are they?" You felt your stomach clamping with fear.

"First off, under no circumstance are you to get help from any of the other residents in the mansion, nor are you to help them so that they may try to return the favor to you. You are to complete this game by yourself, understood?"

"I-I think so..."

"It's a yes or a no, my dear. What is it that you don't understand?"

"The other residents. What do you mean by that?"

"They are...what remains of those that thought they could cheat their way out of their deals with me," he answered. "They've been here for so long, that for most of them the only thing that remains is their desire to swindle you for their own gain: which can mean disastrous results for you. Does this make sense?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then on to rule two: the game doesn't start until you exit through those double doors there that leads into the main hall." He pointed to the golden doors a few yards away from you.

"Understood." 

"Now onto the third and final rule: the only way you can exit and win this game is by going out of the mansion's front doors. So do not cheat by breaking a window and crawling out of it. The only thing you're going to accomplish is breaking a perfectly good window and annoying me."

"I understand."

"Excellent. Now that we have that established, you can feel free to relax for as long as you'd like in here or ask me any questions in the meantime," the right corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"W-what's your name?" You licked your teeth.

"Since my true name is impossible to pronounce with the human tongue, you may call me whatever you'd like," he said. "However, do not call me what you would be insulting or belittling, or as your generation would call 'smartass' names."

"How about Corvin?"

"That's an acceptable name." He nodded his head. "Anything else you'd like to ask?"

"How bad are the other fairies?" You asked.

"Much, much worse than I am." He responded and leaned in, half of his face was covered in heavy shadows. "The old stories you've heard about us using half and metaphorical truths to manipulate, making crops wither overnight, stealing away children and replacing them with ours are very true. But those are just barely scratching the surface of what kind of mischief we do regularly. Any other questions you have for me, my dear?"

"Is this what you actually look like?" You scratched your hand, "Or is this just a form you're taking?"

"The general shape of this form is what I truly look like, just with a few...more humanlike attributes than I actually have." The fairy responded with a light laugh.

"I have one more question."

"What is it?"

"If I win, will I be back to where I started?"

"You mean going back to the life you had before I blessed you?" Corvin said. "No. Especially during my observations I've noticed how hard you worked in your personal ambitions once everything improved. If that's all of the questions you wanted answered, then now would be a good time to finally start our game."

Hesitantly, you got out of your chair and slowly walked towards the double doors. You looked over your shoulder to see Corvin grinning at you.

"Go on. You're just delaying the inevitable by standing there, unless you want to surrender already," his eyes shining with amusement.

With a shaking sigh, you opened the double doors and took your first step outside. With a phantom strike of an unseen grandfather clock, the game has officially begun.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

Play Pretend

Yandere Past Stalker x Fem Reader

TW: unsettling themes, manipulation, stalking (mentioned), yandere behavior, and drugging

Sizzle. Snap. Pop.

The sounds of eggs frying on a pan filled (your name)’s ears while she sat at the mahogany kitchen table. No matter how many times her husband made her breakfast, she couldn’t quite get used to it… (your name) couldn’t help but feel as if there was something horribly amiss.

A little voice often cried in the corners of her mind that this beautiful man was not her husband. That he was an imposter. Yet she couldn’t understand the voice… this man had to be her husband!

Desiderio was there by her side the moment she opened her eyes when she woke up from her coma. She recalled how his large hands held hers while fat tears rolled down his cheeks. That man clung to her like a lifeline, his lips fervently pressed against the top of her head the moment her eyes fluttered open.

And here she was today! In their house that still felt foreign to her despite the two months that had rolled by… a foreign home with no tv nor a radio. A home full of books, plants, and even six photo albums of her. Yet there weren’t many pictures of the two of them together... Desiderio was an incredibly passionate man when it came to her. (Your name) had no doubt this man worshipped the ground she walked on.

(Your name) jumped when a neatly prepared plate was placed in front of her. Desiderio’s chocolate eyes scanned her face with a frown before he smiled brightly.

“Cara mia, you’re lost in thought again.” Desiderio took a seat beside her, large hand now wrapped around hers. His dark eyes filled with concern. “You’ll get a headache if you think too hard about everything… how about you try some eggs? I prepared them just the way you like them!”

(Your name) smiled at her husband who gently pushed the plate closer to her. “Aren’t you going to eat too, darling?”

The large man shivered at the nickname, a dark blush now on his cheeks. “Yes… but I worry more about you. You’re still so weak.”

Desiderio pressed a kiss on the top of her head before he made his way over to fetch himself a plate.

(Your name) raised a brow at the slightly unsavory taste of the eggs. How odd… had her husband used a new kind of seasoning?

(Your name) continued to much away, blissfully unaware of the twisted smile on Desidedio’s face. The brunette’s hands shook as he tried to keep his breathing calm.

Desiderio had loved this beautiful woman since university nearly a decade ago. He knew they were destined to be together from a single glance and Desiderio would have done anything to make sure that happened…

(Your name) was like a fairy tale princess who was kind to everyone, even someone like him. Desiderio was a loser back then. A nerd with little social skills and a scrawny body, he was half the man his brother was… all his life he was compared to his perfect brother. All because he wasn’t athletic.

Desiderio always yearned for (your name) and her affection. It wasn’t fair that his older brother was the one who swooped her up. His cold, neglectful brother who had the emotional capacity of a rock.

It wasn’t fair! Sirius knew Desiderio loved (your name)! Sirius had everything growing up. The family business, the looks, the love of their parents, the money, everything. So why did Sirius get the girl too?

What could (your name) possibly see in Sirius? Sirius was dull and uninteresting, he was only handsome and the heir to a multi-generational company. He had no other redeeming traits! Desiderio was far more romantic and he always left her loving notes in the locker! Was his heartfelt emotion not enough for (your name)?

Desiderio went into a deep depression when the love of his life married Sirius. He threw himself into medical school and painstakingly climbed up the ladder until he made it to the position of medical director. Desiderio worked out until sweat would puddle at his feet, he grew out his black hair, and he became a beloved member of society to try to forget (your name).

It was pure luck (your name) had gotten hit by that car and ended up in a coma at his hospital. It was destiny that her workaholic husband ignored the frantic calls of the nurses and that he only left his last name down as her emergency contact. It was simply too easy to slip his fingers into the sweet honey pot he had always wanted…

And it was even better that she had amnesia. Now Desiderio could mold her in the way that was always intended… as his wife. There would never be a day where she’d feel unloved or neglected. She’d be pampered and endlessly doted on like the princess she was!

(Your name) let out a cute yawn as she stretched her arms above her head. The sweet sight snapped Desiderio from his musings. Goodness she was so precious… and she was all his.

Desiderio slithered forward to wrap his arms around her shoulders with a smirk.

“Cara mia, it seems you’re still sleepy. How about I carry you back to bed?” Desiderio pressed a tender kiss to her temple. The softest of smiles on his plump lips. “We can lay on each other’s arms for a while longer.”

“You’re always so sweet…” (your name) nuzzled her head into Desiderio’s shoulder as the man gave her a bright smile. “I don’t know where I’d be without my darling husband.”

“You’d just be cold and lonely.” Desiderio would play pretend until the very end.

[mayullla]

Title: A Promise to a Red Rose

Character(s): Fairy King Oberon ( Original work)

Summary: The queen had made a deal with a rose that if she were to have a son her son would become a wise ruler but if she had a daughter she would offer the girl to the Fairy King. Warnings/tags: Yandere! Fairy King x Princess! Reader, Kidnapped, manipulations, power imbalance, drugging, dumbification (reader), forced intimacy, noncon body transformation, 3.3k words (please tell me if I missed anything!)

In a kingdom, there was once a king and a queen. Both were in love, so in love with each other that the people had created a song in the kingdom that many bards and kids sang. The affection that the king had towards his queen could rival the highest mountains while the queen's affections could rival the skies. The song was something that made both the king and queen proud of what they had.

It was only a pity that none could have it all… Fame, money and love they had all of it but only one. The queen was unable to conceive a child, an heir for the future of the kingdom, a child with her beloved. While many pitied the queen, many also had to push the king to find another lover for an heir.

The king was furious at such words warning that they were currently making a grave mistake that cost them their lives, yet for the queen who had heard those words could not help but weep in tears as she knew that the king still needed an heir. Heartbroken, she prayed to the fairies day and night, the window in her room open as she looked at the moon and stars or bright skies, not eating or sleeping as she begged the fay to give her a child.

One day in the darkness of night in her lonesome room she heard voices. Small voices that sounded like the jingles of bells and childish laughter. The voices asked why she was crying.

"Oh queen, why are you here? Why have you gotten on your knees? Why are your clothes that you wore damp and wet? And why does your face show sorrow and pain?" The voices asked.

The queen opened her eyes and saw fairies fluttering around her. Small children the size of roses that grew on her windowsill. "Oh queen, why are you so sad that you cry your heart out? Do you not have everything you ever wanted?"

"I am sad because I can't have a child." The queen replied to the fairies. "The king needs an heir yet I could not bore him a son. That is why I am sad because it is the duty of the queen to give the kingdom its heir.."

The fairies listened to the queen's cries and talked among themselves right after. The fairies then flew towards the balcony and made a red rose bud bloom far more beautiful than any rose that the queen had ever seen. The rose is bright red even in the darkness of night with faint glows and shimmers.

"Why have you been crying your heart out? What had pained you that you would not eat for 3 days and 3 nights." The rose asked and the queen explained once again why she was weeping.

"I wish to bore a son for the king. For only then I will be happy once again." The queen told the rose. The rose listened to the queen's story.

"I understand." The rose said, "I will grant your wish but it comes with a cost. A price that you must give."

"What is it that you want?" The queen asked, "Is it gold that you want? Is it jewels that you are looking for? I shall give you mines that store diamonds and emeralds within them for a child of my blood."

“It is not crystals that I am looking for but a life that I want. I shall grant you a life but in return, I wish for the same.” The rose spoke, declining the jewels and money that the queen would. What it wanted was a life. The queen was puzzled by the rose words for she didn't understand what the rose wanted.

"Eat this red rose and then go back to the king. Later when you give birth to a child if it is a boy he would become a king that is loyal and wise. The people would love him and he would rule the kingdom for a long time." The rose told her but it also said, "But if you bore a girl, she would be beautiful and lovely just like the first blooming roses in spring. But when she comes of age she will be taken away by me and she will become the Fairy King's wife."

The queen took the rose and ate it and then hurried back to the king. After a year went by the queen bore twins, a son and a daughter.

While the castle cheered for the children the queen remembered the promise she had made with the rose and broke down in tears again.

She cried day and night when the fairies came back once again. "Oh queen, why are you crying?" The fairies asked.

"I am crying because I have a daughter." The queen replied, tears falling from her eyes. The fairies listened to the queen's cries and talked among themselves. The fairies flew towards the vase and bloomed a small red rose bud into a beautiful rose far more lush than the roses after a rainstorm.

"Why are you crying, oh queen? The rose asked "Do you not have everything that you ever wanted? Do you not have a son that you wished for?"

"But I also have a daughter who I love." The queen replied. The rose was angry because the queen didn't want to give her daughter to the Fairy King. 

"Have I not granted your wish? For a son that will rule the kingdom for a long time?" The roses said in anger, "You promised that if you bore a daughter you will give her to the Fairy King."

But the queen could not let her daughter go because she loved her dearly. While the rose was angry because the queen didn't want to keep her promise that she had made a year ago. So the rose placed a curse telling the queen "The moment the princess pricks her finger in a needle, she will turn into a red rose and the Fairy King will whisk her away and take her to the fairy kingdom. From then on you shall never see the princess ever again."

The queen cried once again when she had heard what the rose had said but it did not take back its words, letting the rose that was so beautiful wilt and fall.

The queen had told the king and when the king heard this he made a command that every needle is to be taken away from the castle.

They took away every needle and spinning wheel in the castle and burned them outside. They didn't let the princess near anything sharp fearing that she would prick her hand and the Fairy King would take her away.

As the princess grew she had never seen a needle in her life and the king and queen had banned anything sharp to be brought to the castle for that day. The roses in the castle gardens didn't have thorns all cut by the gardeners that cared for them.

The prince grew to be smart and loyal. He cared for his people and the people loved him back. The princess grew up to be loving and kind, who cared for the people and was the treasure of the kingdom.

The prince and the princess' coming-of-age ceremony was held in the castle and the king happily invited all his people to come to the ball. The prince and princess were given many gifts and presents. Books from faraway nations, gems made into gorgeous pieces of jewelry, dresses made with the finest silks, an abundance of gold, and more.

As people danced at the ball, the last guest arrived to give his gift. It was an old man slowly walking towards them with a bouquet of roses. "I do not have much but I wish to give the prince and princes these roses." The old man said, handing the roses to the prince. "I thank you for your gift." The prince said. "Please enjoy the ball." The princess said.

The prince sniffed the roses, the fragrant smell stronger than any other rose that he smelled. The color of the roses is a deep shade of red and lush. "My sister look at these roses." The prince said, showing the princess the roses. "They are the most beautiful roses I have ever seen. More beautiful than a red ruby."

The princess looked at the roses and indeed they were just like the brother said. The princess wanted to touch the roses and reached out for a rose only to get pricked by the thorn of the rose.

The queen screamed when she saw the blood on the princess's finger and the king and prince tried to reach the princess when she was turned to roses as the old man had turned into the Fairy King and took her away to a world of fairies.--

"Fairy King! It is night time now and the queen is still with the child." The fairies chanted, calling the king to stop reading. Sharp eyes looked up from the book created by humans reading a familiar story simplified for kids' entertainment. Looking at the sky he saw the moon high up and stars shining bright. Standing up he listened to the fairies smaller than his own hand. “Where is my wife? It is getting late.” “She is with the boy, Fairy King. They are in the same place as before.” Flying out of the fairy castle into the garden where he knew you were currently and a small young human boy.

Under the moonlight, he found you sitting on a tree where he left you, and the boy continued to tell a story about his parents even when he saw the Fairy King from the corner of his eye. You would nod silently as if listening intently of what the boy had to say. 

"It is night now my dear." The fairy king Oberon spoke.

Hearing his voice you slowly moved your head towards him and quietly smiled while the boy pouted as if knowing that it was his cue to leave. It was as if he had come here many times before that too. "But I wanna still play." The boy whined only to be silenced when you slowly reached for the boy's hair, patting his head. At your touch, the young boy gave up his whining quickly.

"Promise me that we can play again?" The boy asked and received a soft smile from you. Seeing that the boy sighed "Okay..."

Oberon watched as the boy waved goodbye at you leaving the fairy world guided by the fairies when he looked at you again. The Fairy King watched as the boy continued to look back at you, eyes begging to tell him to come back.

The boy and you had similar features to each other.

Taking steps towards you he reached for his wife. You looked at him surprised yet your smile only grew when you realized you were off the ground and in his arms looking around like a child feeling tall. "My wife, my queen, it is time for you to rest too. This king knows that you are tired." Oberon spoke, only to receive a pout from you. You tried to shuffle away from his hold, push yourself away to make a distance so that he would not take you back when you were having so much fun. Yet your hands did little to make a gap between you and him. You were too weak, too frail to push him away.

Your attention was quickly taken away tho, when you noticed his platinum blonde hair that was long enough to reach the floor. On his head was a crown made of golden leaves and jewels. Reaching out you touched his face clear of any imperfections.

Oberon looked at you, smiled silently as you started to rub your finger on his chin, and then started to play with his hair and long ears as if you had forgotten when you tried to struggle away from his hold. Your eyes were hazy as if you were daydreaming as if you were in a daze, those had been your eyes ever since you arrived in the fairy kingdom. In tears and anguish from being taken away from your own home and family, you tried to run away so Oberon had to make sure you stayed.

Every fruit and dessert you ate was dusted with golden dust. With the showers that you had in the lake, the fairies would make sure to drop fairy dust alongside water and then coat your skin with golden liquid. The clothes that you wore white silk decorated with beautiful flowers and jewels. From roses, lilacs, and daisies to rubies, sapphires and emeralds as you moved your clothes and your skin sparkled in gold.

His shiny treasure. Adorable and sweet in his arms. The fairies cooed at his highness and his beloved. Once upon a time, you pushed him away screaming at the top of your lungs terrified of his kind, screaming that he kidnapped you. Only to calm down with golden honey. Each day Oberon fed you such honey made out of the golden dust, it was what gave the fairies their magic, their ability to fly but also their life spans. It was a common food for them, something like how humans treat rice, bread, or potatoes.

If a human were to drink such nectar or inhale so much of the fairy dust their life spans would lengthen and they would be beautiful, the old would become young again to when they were at their peak. But it also comes with a high cost. Fairy dust wasn't meant for human consumption, it wasn't meant for humans at all. It was an addiction, the moment one takes in that dust, they would never be able to turn back to their normal life. 

Humans feel ecstatic the moment they have it, a high that is so powerful that they can see nothing but happiness. They were blind to the world, while beautiful and young they had become too dumb to form sentences but even think. They go along with whatever others say and due to it, many have died as they were taken advantage of while others couldn't see the dangers right in front of them, as those who were drunk on such dust fell from high places or unknowingly consumed something they shouldn't. Yet even when the person finally goes back to normal they would start to crave it, an instant addiction that slowly turned them into monsters who could not understand what was right or wrong.

It was an immediate reaction when you finally drank the honey a faster kick compared to dust, it made the whole world dizzy as you didn't understand what was happening. But you are happy, so happy and you don't know why. Drool of honey and spit from your mouth, unable to function properly as the fairy king places you on your new throne. This shall be your home, and it has been for a long time now.

Years passed and every day they placed the honey down your lips whether you liked it or not keeping you happy and satted. Your little fusses are weak and short-lived as you look at the world around you with innocent eyes, sparkling and giggly. Hundreds of years pass by and you haven't aged at all, still so curious over something that you have seen every day almost as if you forgot every single time.  

While you should have died, becoming nothing but brainless when the dust could physically melt the brain. It was by the fairy king that you were still alive with his power; he would keep you whole right beside him.

Gone was your ability to walk something that he took long ago. Had he placed you down on your legs you would only collapse like a puppet with no strings unable to raise your body anymore. Your legs were useless now. Not that he minded it at all, to have you wrapped around his arms, nothing could ever compare to such thing. 

You were affectionate like this, so happy. Unable to form proper words, unable to remember your own name unless he spoke it. Moments after he did you looked like a puppy wagging its tail with wide eyes as if you had found a present… that was already yours.

Taking you deeper into the forest you placed your hands on the fairy king's cheeks a soft smile on your lips. Teasing he thought to himself as he looked at you, he kissed the crown of your head receiving a melodic laugh from you as you kissed his chin three times.

Oberon had grown affection for you, his lovely queen and while many tried to take you back long ago he didn't let them. The way to the fairy world and human world gate closed, covering the entrance with thick vines of thorns, that would not be cut even with a sword but only a small opening enough for a small kid to pass through if they so found the path.

The queen and king both had died in heartbreak over the loss of their precious daughter while your brother both smart and wise led the kingdom with care but had also become crazy over the loss of his sister behind the curtains dying with only regret. Many thought it was magic that killed the royal family but no one had the answers. The story went down and turned into a storybook for kids, which taught them to never make a promise they could not keep. When Oberon looked at the ending for the first time, he could not help but frown at its "happy" ending. 

But it matters not he thought to himself as he placed you down on a bed made of soft materials and on the edge sleeping flowers and gold carvings. He flew around you and took his side of the bed watching your breath as your body slowly inhaled and exhaled sleep had quickly taken you to your dreams. It seemed that you were tired from playing with your great grand-niece as you had quickly fallen asleep from exhaustion even after 2 naps in the daylight. Moving you closer he moved your body to make you face the pillow just a little as he touched your bare back where your clothes didn't cover that area.

You moaned uncomfortable by the cold hand touching your back but Oberon didn't seem to care as he looked for bumps in your naked back when he found a few. They were bumps that didn't quite belong to humans rather they belonged to fairies. Specifically, humans that were turning into fairies.

It will take a long time to change you from a human to a fairy queen, it would take more than a hundred years to grow wings, after all, they need to change the body to make room for a container to absorb magic. A human would not only need the fairy dust they would need the fairy king's permission that the fairy dust shall not kill the being consuming it… but also time. Time that most humans didn't have, but you have been given a gift ever since you were born you never knew it but you were already so different from humans ever since that deal that your foolish mother made.

He would make sure your wings would be as beautiful as the sunset, far more beautiful than lush roses, more that it would dull the color of rubies. And you will open your wings and flap them but this time you would fly towards him and into his arms. You will love him just as much as he loves you and you shall accept your place in his side as the queen of the fairies.

He would make sure that you would be beautiful and forever young. He kept you for over a hundred years now and he intends to keep you by his side for thousands.