#yandere don

[mrsgiovanna]

The little things (Yan! Don Giovanna x reader)

It's been forever and a day since I've written anything, so this isn't the best 😭... just an idea inspired by @thecw-unicorn .

Word count: 1.8k

Tw: yandere behavior, possessiveness, just yand Giorno being yan Giorno haha. Pls, I don't condone this behavior in reality. This is just fiction.

Your day started off just as they all had for the past few weeks... woken up by the ambient light that filtered through the gauzy curtains in your room, followed by slowly meandering through your morning routine until you were convinced it was late enough for you to go down to breakfast without having to cross paths with him. Your fingers trailed through the various outfits in your closet, each perfectly constructed to meet your measurements and likes while still catering to his preferences. It annoyed you, how everything was curated to suit you but felt so insufferable to experience.

From the outside looking in, your existence was a dream, lavished with the best of everything, housed in a villa with comfort few could even imagine, and a handsome powerful man who could create a universe for you, and he would, if you'd ask for it. But this charmed existence came at a price… as most things did, but you often wondered if all the designer clothes and expensive jewellery was worth your agency? Could you continue to live within the confines of his rules? Sitting at the vanity mirror, you looked at yourself, the visage was your own, you recognised the curve of your cheeks and the slope of your nose and the ways the sunlight bathed your complexion but your eyes felt different… foreign… but in a way that you just couldn't name.

A soft tapping at your door pulled you out of your reverie.

“Yes, come in,” you responded, returning to your reflection as you smoothed out your outfit for the day. It was one of Giorno’s staff, Stella, the helper he had assigned specifically for you, who had let themselves in at your invitation.

“Don Giovanna wishes to see you,”

The silence hung in the air for a while, before prompted again.

“[First]? Did you hear me?”

“I did,” you sighed, and stood. Stalling wouldn't help you today, Giorno only ever sent anyone for you when he was insistent on seeing you and no amount of tricks would save you from that.

“Come along, we wouldn't want to keep Don Giovanna waiting,” said Stella with a serene smile.

“You wouldn't want to keep him waiting, I on the other hand, have no such reservations,” you quipped. Stella simply shook her head at your defiance and walked with you towards the grand dining room.

On occasion you would take your breakfasts there, and dinner when Giorno would be your dining companion, otherwise you had preferred the sunroom with large windows overlooking the beautifully manicured gardens of the villa. You could spend hours there, lost in a book or one of the other hobbies that had become an outlet for you. Giorno had always encouraged your passions… the ones that would keep you on his premises that is.

It was always like that with him. Behind his kind gestures and honeyed words was a veil of control that he was unwilling to relent on. He had always said that it was to keep you from harm, but you wondered how anyone could inflict harm on a man who was akin to a god.

You had arrived at the dining room and seated yourself at the furthest seat from Giorno across the long mahogany table. There was a feast of items, from fresh fruits to pastries and fluffy scrambled eggs and toasted breads. He knew you'd try to hastily leave and was always prepared for resistance from you, but there was something softer in his demeanour today. You eyes wandered over him, he was more relaxed today, even in his dressing, the cashmere turtleneck and dark wash jeans replaced his usual tailored suit, which was still impeccably stylish, but aimed at comfort.

He folded the newspaper he was reading and settled it neatly to the side at your arrival.

“Good morning, [First]” he greeted with a smile, his green eyes sparkling almost as bright as the emeralds on your bracelet.

“Morning….” You flinched internally at the blandness of your response but schooled your features into indifference.

“Have you slept well?” He asked, attempting to ignite a semblance of a conversation.

“Well enough thanks… so… is there a particular reason you wanted to see me today?”

Giorno laughed at the bluntness of your response.

“Always to the point… it's one of the things I love about you. To answer your question, there is something I'd like to talk about”. You nodded for him to continue.

“I was thinking, a change of scenery might be nice, what would you say to a trip to Corsica? I've acquired a secluded villa right on the coast, it's beautiful this time of year…” Giorno trailed off at the downcast expression on your face.

“When do you want to go?” you asked, buttering a piece of toast just to give your hands something to do.

Giorno leaned forward slightly, his expression softening as he caught the hint of reluctance in your voice. "We can leave whenever you’d like. I thought a few days away would do you some good—away from the city, from the noise. Just you and me, no distractions."

The idea of Corsica sounded lovely in theory—a place so far removed from the rest of the world. A place where you could find peace. But you knew better. No matter where you went, no matter how beautiful the scenery, it would still be a gilded cage. The control would remain, the invisible strings pulling at you, limiting your freedom.

You sipped your tea, trying to mask the tension building in your chest. "It sounds nice," you replied carefully, keeping your tone neutral. "But I have things to take care of here." A lie, an unconvincing one but it was all you could think of.

Giorno’s lips twitched into a slight smile, as if amused by your deflection. "Of course, you do. But none of it is so urgent that it can’t wait a few days, no?" His tone was gentle, coaxing, yet firm—leaving little room for argument.

You set your cup down, fingers lightly tracing the rim. "Maybe. I’ll think about it."

There was a pause, the room falling into a familiar, tense quiet, the kind that always followed when Giorno offered you something that was, in truth, an order cloaked as a suggestion. He never pushed too hard, but he never let go, either. You could feel his gaze on you, studying, waiting for the resistance to fade.

"I just want you to be happy, cara," he said, voice low and sincere. "I know things have been difficult, but I want us to have more moments to ourselves, to enjoy life together."

You glanced up at him, meeting those piercing green eyes that always seemed to see more than they should. A part of you wanted to believe in his words, to think that he truly cared, but the weight of his possessiveness and control was never far from your mind.

“I know you do,” you replied quietly, “but sometimes… I need space to find that happiness.”

Giorno’s smile faltered for just a moment, but he quickly masked it with an understanding nod. “Of course. We can discuss it further whenever you're ready. But just know, I’ll always be here, offering whatever you need.”

You gave a small, polite smile and shifted in your seat, feeling the weight of his words settle around you. The breakfast laid out before you seemed like a feast, but you felt anything but hungry. It was always like this—an endless cycle of gilded promises wrapped in velvet chains.

And no matter how far you went, no matter how beautiful the setting, the freedom you craved always seemed just out of reach.

Giorno watched you in silence for a moment, his eyes scanning your face, searching for any flicker of happiness. The quiet tension between you felt too heavy, too oppressive, and he wasn’t one to let things remain that way for long. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned back in his chair.

"You seem tense, amore," he remarked casually, his tone light but with a calculated intention behind it. He gestured toward the fruit plate with a lazy wave of his hand, and in the next instant, you saw something move out of the corner of your eye.

A tiny kitten materialized on the table, no bigger than the palm of your hand. Its fur was a delicate golden color, shimmering faintly as it mewed softly and blinked up at you with wide, curious eyes. It stretched its tiny paws and let out an adorable little purr, batting at a grape that had rolled beside it.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Giorno, what—?"

He chuckled softly. "I thought you could use some company. Sometimes, it's the little things that can brighten your day."

The kitten padded its way closer to you, its tiny paws pattering against the table. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against its soft fur as it purred louder and nudged your hand with its small head. A reluctant smile crept onto your face, despite the guarded wall you’d been trying to keep up.

"There it is," Giorno said, his voice gentle and pleased. "A smile. I knew you had one hiding in there."

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the warmth spreading in your chest as the kitten pawed at your fingers, its playful energy contagious. You picked it up carefully, cradling the delicate creature in your hands, and it immediately curled into your palm, purring contentedly.

Giorno watched you intently, his gaze softening as he saw the tension in your posture begin to ease. "See? A simple little thing, and already the day feels better, doesn’t it?"

You shook your head, unable to suppress the small laugh that escaped you. "You really think a kitten is going to fix everything, don’t you?"

"Not everything," he replied with a knowing smile, "but it’s a start."

You held the kitten up, watching as it batted at your finger playfully, its tiny claws barely scratching at your skin. There was something about the innocence of the little creature that tugged at your heart, and for a moment, the weight of the morning lifted just a little.

Giorno leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand as he continued to watch you. "I don’t need to fix everything, amore mio. I just want to see you happy—whatever that looks like for you."

The sincerity in his voice made you pause, glancing over at him. His green eyes, always so sharp and calculating, held a softness that made it hard to look away. He wasn’t pressuring you this time, wasn’t forcing you into something you didn’t want. He was simply… there, offering a small moment of joy in a life that often felt too controlled.

You stroked the kitten, your smile lingering as you looked down at the small, golden ball of fluff in your lap. "Thank you, Giorno," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his smile widening just a fraction, the sound of his name from your lips was always a balm to his soul. "It’s nothing, cara. I’ll always do whatever I can to make you smile."

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Swords in the Court: Wedding Bells

Secret Garden

Yandere Don John x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Nothing but the fact that Don John is hypnotic

Note: This story is set in a fictionalised historical setting. Though there are clear inspirations drawn from the real world and history, this tale in no way tries to explain, change or state any historical, political, communal, geographical or religious 'facts'. Kindly treat this short-series as it is, a fiction

Unedited

You pay no heed to the stares of passing court ladies and lingering servants while making your way towards the Queen’s chamber. You have grown accustomed to them now. Of course, people will stare—you are a lady-in-waiting for the Queen, despite having no house or regal title to your name. As the daughter of a blacksmith, you should not be even in the Queen’s chamber—any royal chamber. But here you are, serving and accompanying. the queen wherever she goes. 

Your father used to say that he was a self-taught man, a person of his stature, should have been illiterate. But he not only taught himself but you as well. And one day, by a twist of fate, you found yourself in the Queen’s presence. She took a liking to you and appointed you as her chambermaid. But by the time the seventeenth summer of your life passed, you were elevated to the position of her lady-in-waiting. You later realised that she needed a true trustworthy lady by her side. The court was divided, and the Queen needed a loyal companion by her side, and she put her confidence in you. 

You are no Lady by birth, but you have learned the court's ways and a Lady's mannerisms. You will never be accepted, of course, you do not expect them to. But as long as you have the Queen's favour and know your place, you are safe.

“What took you so long.”

“Apologies, Your Highness,” You bow down before gesturing for the maid following you to serve the Queen her tea.

“The physician is certain that this shall help you sleep better, Your Highness.”

The Queen nods, taking a tentative sip of her tea. 

“The Prince of Spain will be here tomorrow. And here I am, unable to earn a wink of sleep. How shall I welcome and accompany them if an unrested mind grips me.”

“Forgive me, My Queen but you have taken great troubles, arranging the union, pursuing the King and preparing for the Prince and his companions’ welcome. Sleeplessness might be a result of such responsibilities.”

The Queen smiles faintly and takes another sip “You always know what to say, clever girl?”

“I merely state what is obvious, Your Grace.”

“I haven’t been able to keep track of the court, I have been engaged with the matters of the Princess’s marriage. Anything worthy?”

“Not much, Your Highness, the King has taken an interest in Lord Beecham’s eldest daughter.”

“The Earl of the Walden?”

“I’m afraid so.” You pour some more tea into her cup.

“Wasn’t it he who rebelled against my father when he was King? My dearest husband started a rebellion and won, and now his favourite dogs wag their tails in the court. Strange are the times.” That’s all she says before picking up on her letters to read.

Such news comes as no surprise to her, as long as those ‘pretty playthings’ as she likes to call them do not try to influence the King in ways she holds the power to, the Queen doesn’t mind. The King has his entertainment, the Queen has hers, and only one has it in the public eye—the other needs to be discreet.

“Prepare to welcome the Spanish Royalty tomorrow, and tell the Princess to be ready. The looming war could be thwarted with the Spanish by our side. Your King doesn’t seem to understand that, but as the Queen, I do. They’ve sailed for days, are bound to be haggard, and make sure the supply of wine, and food never runs out, and hopefully, the capital's brothels are ready as well?”

“All has been taken care of, My Queen.”

She nods before assessing you, as if stuck by a sudden realisation “How old are you again?”

“I turned twenty, two moons ago, Your Highness.”

“You mean two months.”

“Yes, My Queen, my apologies.”

She makes a dismissive gesture and puts aside the now-empty tea cup.

 “Don’t be, you should never forget your roots, your reality, where you came from, where you are, and where you can end up. Wear this knowledge like armour, and it can never be used against you.”

“Yes, My Queen.”

“Now go, it is late and tomorrow you must be up earlier than the rest.”

With a greeting of good night, you make your way out of her chamber.

—-----

“Do you see them, now?” Madeline asks, quivering with excitement. 

The young and handsome Crown Prince of the foreign empire, his brother and fellow loyal soldiers riding into the capital—a visual straight out of those romantic fables and poetry that court maidens love so much.

But you are not them. They see the idyllic image of a handsome prince marching towards the palace. You see their banner and the potential this alliance has. The Queen has seen the possibility of a looming war years before it actually might happen and after all these years with her, you know that the Queen is seldom wrong when it comes to politics.

“Look! That’s the Crown Prince. Look at his dark curls, he's magnificent, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Maddy, he is.”

“And there, his brother siding beside him…Oh, and his bastard brother too, riding behind.”

You frown and fix your gaze on the man riding right behind the Princes.”

“I thought bastards do not join such official ceremonies.”

“I heard that the Emperor has recognised him, some say he might even become a Duke there.”

“A Duke? But, he’s a bastard.” You turn to your friend, surprised.

“Birth does not always decide our place in this world. We were lowborns as well. Your father was a blacksmith, mine was a butcher. Look at us now.” 

“We still are lowborns Maddy, this will never change.”

Madeline nods “You’re right, but here we are, overlooking the Prince of Spain marching into the Palace.”

“What is his name?” You ask, intrigued as your gaze fixes on the man in black and white.

“The Prince? He is Mechor Bohorquez de Alvarado, and—”

“Not the Prince, his bastard brother, what’s his name?”

“Him? That’s Don Juan—that’s in Spanish. John,  his mother was not from Spain as I’ve heard.”

“And where do you hear all these from?” You turn to her.

“From the letters I carry.”

“Maddy! They would have you imprisoned at the least for this!” Your eyes widen as you hiss into her ear.

“Take a breath, nobody knows, or suspects. I have been curious, you know?”

“Still, this is dangerous. You will not do it again.” You touch her shoulder to assert “I mean it, Maddy. No playing around dangerously…Please.”

Madeline sighed “Okay, I won’t do it again.”

—--

With a grand welcome has come the dinner— an even grander affair. Pies, cakes, ale, roasts, meat, sweets and chocolates, lots of chocolates, a gift from the Spanish Empire—-the food and drink flow in and empty trays and plates leave the grand hall where the Spanish princes and their men make merry, laugh, drink, and eat. The Crown Prince sits with the King, the Queen and the Princess by their side. The rest of his friends and companions enjoy the never-ending flow of wine and delicacies. At the same time, they play charades of words and intentions with noble women, from the newly blossomed to the ripened, the maiden and the sourly married while their father and husbands go off with other women. 

The norm of the court.

You have seen plenty of it already. You sit with Madeline, tired from running around and ensuring everything is perfect. Your eyes wander around the hall without any particular purpose, until your gaze lands on the bastard Prince—having been granted recognition and now holding the prospect of dukedom, you expected him to be tangled with women in a corner, drunk out of his mind. But he simply stands with a shorter man, that you surmise is some advisor or friend of his, too old to be a squire.

As if feeling eyes on him, his gaze meets yours. 

You like to think that you are above all those silly notions and admirations, that you only want to learn the ways of the court and survive it, excel in it, even. 

But the moment your eyes meet his, you are frozen. Everything seems to stop, everything but the electrifying sensation of his gaze–deep, dark and intense– meeting yours. You feel it in every part of you, because suddenly, everything comes alive in you, things you never existed. 

Your heart thuds uncontrollably.

 But your mind is not racing, it’s not going anywhere at all—there is no thought other than the realisation, that he is beautiful—not exactly the sharp, princely, kind–although it is there, he has something more, something different—he is beautiful with his big brown eyes–sharp but not exactly arrogant, there’s something worse. 

No, no, no. Don’t do that. You are no royalty, you will get no chance to clean up your mistakes.

You chastise yourself and look down at your empty goblet after offering him a polite smile, deliberately making sure that it is no different from the one you offered while welcoming the rest of the guests for the evening. 

But it does not help that you still feel his gaze.

—--

You wish you could wake up to the position of the sun you wanted. But that is the luxury only the royal family enjoys here and the noble ladies who aren’t the Queen’s Lady-in-Waiting. Besides, you are to oversee the cleaning of the Grand Hall before the King wakes. Everything is supposed to be pristine and shining.

“The corner is still not done, and carpet—is that…” The putrid smell of vomit greets you as soon as you step closer to the ‘mysterious’ stain on the carpet in the hall. “Forget cleaning this, the carpet needs to be replaced.” You dismiss the servants, urging them to be quicker.

You look around the place. Wine stains on the walls, splattered food, some pearls, some shoes, even some clothes left behind. It seems like after you left the place has been through a wild ride.

“Much to clean up?” 

Turning to the entrance of the hall, you find an unexpected face.

“My Lord.” You greet him in your Kingdom’s fashion of formality.

“Don John. That’s my name.” He saunters inside, looking around before your eyes again for an official greeting. 

While something tells you that the belated greeting was neither custom nor negligence, you do not pay heed to his boyish attempt to ruffle your feathers. Subtle, typical of courtly politics but never amiss.

“Prince Don John, it is an honour to meet you, but I’m afraid this…” You look around, partly embarrassed with the mess, though it was most definitely, the Spanish guest’s doing. “Is no place for any of our esteemed guesses to be.”

“Please, you embarrass me, My Lady, I’m afraid my brothers and men have much hand in this…mischief. They get drunk so often and so easily, lose their gentlemanly coats.”

This makes a genuine smile press press out stubbornly. He sports no accent that might give away his Spanish heritage, you notice.

“We are most honoured to have your brave and virtuous men in our palace, and the Crown Prince, for the Princess’s hand.” 

Don John smiles down at you, he is tall, you notice–lean but athletic.

“The court here is most polite and charming.” 

Oh, only if he knew the thrones hiding under the roses.

“Of course it is.” You reply. 

His smirk tells you that maybe he is not as new to this game as you surmised.

“They say my mother was from this land.”

“Here?”

“I am not sure ‘here’, but, somewhere from this beautiful land. His Highness, my…father, says I have her eyes and his temperament.”

“The Emperor of Spain has been most generous with us.”

Don John smiles and looks ahead as you both make your way towards the spring garden—now beginning to turn brown with the onset of autumn.

“I assume this court is not too different from ours, after all, people like us get the opportunity to rise,” he comments, lightly tracing the vines as you two make your way deeper into the garden.

“I’m afraid, my Lord, unlike you, I have no royal blood or upbringing.” 

Don John frowns, you read the questions before they come to his lips and explain yourself.

“My father was a blacksmith who forged a few good swords for the nobility. God bless our kind and generous Queen, she took me under her wing, and took care of my learnings of books and mannerisms.”

“I see” 

There is a slight smile, that does not seem anywhere near mockery. You know what a smile veiling a scowl looks like. His smile has no malice peeking subtle, it is just a courteous smile---either that or he is good at hiding it. It confuses you more. There is no straight line he can be read through. He is no open book. A puzzle, yes, that he is, a puzzle that has all its pieces scattered around. 

All.

Nothing is hidden from you for long.

—----

“And I wish I could smack his head—-” Maddy bursts into another fit of giggles, narrating her adventures during the welcome feast “Have you heard, it’s said that the Prince has never lost a single battle.” 

You shrug, fingers racing the leaves and flowers as you two stroll through the gardens. The Queen’s courtyard had some of the most stunning autumn blooms, along with the fallen leaves on the damp ground. The faraway mist gives the stretches of land beyond the place walls an eerie beauty.

“But some say that he has never lost a war, because in every war, his half-brother, Don Juan has fought by his side. Crushing the enemies like ants.”

“Ants?” You chuckle. I do not doubt Don John’s capabilities on the battlefield, but  slaying enemies like ants is slightly an exaggeration.”

“Yes, could be, or perhaps he is indeed the finest sword Spain has ever witnessed? No wonder the Emperor wants to keep his loyalty.”

“And is he not a threat instead?”

“Why would he be so?” 

You sigh and gaze at the forming mist beyond the palace walls. Most of the view is interrupted by guards standing taut like stretched bows.

“I’ve heard rumours, the Queen, sometimes, I heard her say, that Don Juan, though, to the world younger than the Crown Prince, is in reality, two autumns older.

“What?” Maddy ducks her head and looks at you in disbelief “None of….” Licking her lips, looks around before lowering her voice to whisper “None of the letters ever mentioned.”

“It’s just a rumour, we don’t know the truth.”

“If the Queen’s spy says that…”

“Never heard her mention the source, it was a passing comment.” You explain

“Why would the Emporer give him Dukedom then? He’s a threat to his succession.” 

Maddy is right, Don John indeed is more of a threat than an ally if seen through the shrewd lenses, and you know that all the glories and virtues are nothing more than grand shows— carnival under the roof of sorts.

“Maybe, they want to keep him close. He crushes the enemies like ants, you said it yourself”

“They say he swings his mind in battle strategies more than his sword.” She adds after a moment of thought.

“Then he is a dangerous man.”

“If the Princess marries the Prince, they must produce an heir as soon as they can.”

You sigh and turn to a wilted rose.

“They must. We need the Spanish Ships, a war might be stirring soon.”

******

[joonie7007]

DON YOU A BIG MAN BEAT HIM UPP 🗣️🗣️

Me to Don:

Don't make unnecessary journeys!? Don't take risks on treacherous roads and don't swim in the sea!? 😭‼️‼️‼️WHY DID WE GO TO THE APARTMENT AND NOT THE COPS BRUV

[otomes-world]

"Under fantasy disguise" part Pomefiore (1)

Fantasy AU “Under fantasy disguise”: world lore (prologue) heartslabyul savanaclaw octavinelle scarabia trigger warning: some self hate, reader in really bad state (but there is nothing grafic), barrely edited text.

At some point, the clouds flying past completely erased the idea of time and space. Slowly brightening sky marked the beginning of a new day. The lump in throat, the approaching nausea and self-loathing merged into one large layer, settling like a burden in your chest. A heaviness that radiates unpleasantly throughout the whole body.

You wanted to pry open chest if only it could give at least a little peace of mind.

However, the much-desired peace would not come. The subconscious told you, or maybe you yourself understood that you couldn’t let go of the situation. Frankly, what happened - all at once - was not your fault. It wasn’t, but selfishness and the banal desire to survive stuck needles into such a subjective concept of conscience, which you didn’t even suspect. When you live in a world of technology - when you don't have to make tough decisions - the world seems simpler.

You didn’t know where the carpet was going. Perhaps it was simply obeying your unspoken impulse to get away. Anywhere. To a place where it will be at least a little easier.

However, during the time you spent in this world, you managed to come to terms with the thought: it won’t get better. The further you plunged into unfamiliar lands and got to know its inhabitants, the harder the blow to your mental health. At some point you thought that the happiest time of your forced journey was wandering in the mountains.

Taking a shuddering breath, you froze abruptly, noticing movement out of the corner of your eye. Something flew past at incredible speed. Glancing briefly at the sleeping cat, you clenched your fists, your nails - or what was left of them - digging into the skin of your palms. The pain helped calm down a little and focus on surroundings. A moment and something flew by again, this time very close.

It didn't seem to you.

Waking Grimm up with your left hand, you tried to look down. The carpet did not slow down, and therefore it was difficult to try to see anything. The barely brightening sky did not help at all. Suddenly the fabric shook and you felt something cold millimeters from your other hand. Imagining the worst, you looked down, noticing the thin scratch on your skin and the arrow.

Everything inside you suddenly stopped.

Heart began to beat sharply, making already labored breathing difficult. The mind tried to come up with a solution, an escape, something, but apparently the third arrow was the last warning. The last one before something incomprehensible collided with the carpet, paradoxically sobering and frightening at the same time. Intuitively stretching out your hands towards the sound of meowing, you realized in horror that you were falling down. The carpet, which had saved your life several times, was flailing in the air, trying to extinguish the flames that were engulfing the fabric faster and faster.

You closed your eyes and prepared to fall. The sharp blow, it felt like it, knocked out the remaining oxygen on the branch, as did a further fall onto the wet grass. The pain darkened vision. You wanted to scream, but you didn’t have the strength to unclench teeth and utter even a sound. Bent over, you still clutched Grimm to your chest, simultaneously trying to think about something good.

Heartslabyul still caused waking nightmares, but there were incredibly beautiful roses there. Flowers. Pleasant baking aroma. The softly shining sun.

A slow, careful breath literally created a storm inside. The lungs protested, the muscles tensed to the limit. It would be so easy to close your eyes and plunge into darkness if it weren't for the adrenaline still flowing through your veins. Your attacker was still somewhere nearby.

Sitting up with an effort of will, you could hardly resist so as not to fall back. Your side was burning, and the notorious stars were flying before eyes. What kept you from giving up was the realization that the breathing of the cat, limp in your arms, was becoming weaker. The fear of being alone in this world turned out to be enough of an incentive to go against everything: fate, a tired body and, possibly, broken bones.

A rustling sound came very close, and you tensed, preparing for the worst. Having spotted a dry branch nearby, you wondered how much time and effort it would take to grab it. There was a rustling sound again, and this time the steps took him by surprise, but a child appeared from behind the bushes. Even in the semi-darkness, you noticed his light gray hair and pointed ears. Gradually, two more appeared behind him: one with burgundy strands sticking out to the sides and a gloomy expression on his face, and the second, ready to fall asleep at any moment.

The very first, apparently the main one of the trio, took a step forward, raising his hands in a calming gesture, "How are you feeling? How many fingers am I showing?"

You just shook your head, closing your eyes. The voice of reason insisted that you had to run, but fear for Grimm did not allow you to take even a step..

"Us.. can.. help.. you.. "you didn’t recognize your own voice. It sounded so quiet and muffled that you doubted whether you were heard. Your throat burned, but you opened your mouth again to repeat the request as many times as necessary.

"Dominic, it’s not a good idea to bring someone you don’t know home, is it?" The gloomy child spoke, and for a second you again started to panic. "If we bring everyone we meet and cross, we ourselves will soon become the King’s target."

King? That's all you needed. Previous territories also had heads, but facing the “royal family” sounded much more terrible and problematic

"..only a night.. I can.. stay in the forest.. only Grimm.." It seemed like torture to pronounce every word. Your vision was blurry, but you were obliged to hold out.

“Another guest won’t be such a problem,” Dominic answered. "Can you get up?"

No. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to get up. You couldn't even lie to yourself. You didn’t even have to answer, the main one came up and extended his hands to the cat. With trembling hands, struggling not to pull them away, you allowed the cat to be taken away

"Groom, stay and look after last one. Shelpi and I will go get Neige"

The one who was called Groom grumbled without ceasing, but still approached you. Watching the children disappear among the greenery, you allowed yourself to relax. At least Grimm was safe.

"Hey. Hey! Come to your senses!"

You felt someone shaking your shoulder, but you couldn’t make out anything else. Only at some point did you hear someone’s worried voice, but you couldn’t make out what exactly he was saying.

You came to your senses, then fell into oblivion again. Voices, sounds, light caused dizziness and rejection. The only thing you remembered throughout the entire chaotic state was that pleasant voice and someone’s warm hands.

"You woke up!" Someone voiced it before you even realized it yourself. It’s just that at some point you stopped distinguishing between reality and a dream, but it seems that this time you were definitely in reality. "Wait, I'll call Dominic"

This name fluttered familiarly in memory. That's right, that was the name of the bright child. Following with an unfocused gaze the young man - although now in your eyes he was just a colored spot - who quickly rushed off somewhere, leaving you for a minute.

Closing your eyelids, you tried to focus on the present. You weren't abandoned in the forest, that's a plus. The attacker didn't show up yesterday, or maybe you just weren't found. The questions “Who” and “Why” remained unanswered. It would be possible to close your eyes and not chase your tail, as before, but your intuition suggested that this time it would be different. That this was just the calm before the next storm. But you no longer had the strength to look for shelter so as not to be carried away to the mercy of fate.

A quiet knock brought you back to reality. It was strange, the young man didn’t seem to lock the door. Opening your eyes slightly, you squinted, trying to make out the newcomer. As you thought, it turned out to be the same child. Next to him stood someone your age - maybe a little older or younger - with a friendly smile. The corners of your lips slightly twitched upward, but they couldn’t become the same full-fledged smile.

"Are you feeling better now?" Asked the child, who continued speaking after a nod from you. “You’re probably still confused, so I’ll try to speak more slowly. My name is Dominic, my dwarf brothers and me have been living in this forest for a very long time. And this,” he pointed at the young man, “is Neige. Although you may already know him. Let me know what happened to you?"

"…if.. I knew.. someone attacked us while we were flying on the carpet.. we turned over and fell, Grimm.. Grimm! Where is he?" An attempt to sit up abruptly was unsuccessful, causing more circles under the eyes and weakness. A brunette who appeared next to you prevented you from turning over and falling out of bed

"Your friend is okay!" The dwarf immediately answered hastily. "He, like you, needs to rest. But you need to do this first. During the fall, you broke a rib" you immediately touched your burning side. “It will take time to heal.”

Having given a short thank you to him and the boy, as a sign that you were already feeling better, you began to hastily rebuild your plan of action. It was impossible to linger, but on the other hand, going in the current state was no less stupid. You understood that the fall could not have happened without something - there was a limit to luck and the capabilities of the human body - but the awareness did not brighten up what was happening.

"Do you know who could have attacked you?“ The young man asked softly, holding out a glass of water that had come from nowhere. However, you weren't complaining.

“No.. No, this is my first time in these lands,” after a couple of sips it became easier to speak. “We were flying… yes, we were flying,” you strained your tired memory. "…someone shot! I remembered the arrow!" Looking hopefully at Dominic, you saw a worried look. As if he realized who exactly attacked you and the Grimm. For some reason, you doubted whether it was worth finding out the truth. "This is not someone from the royal family, right?"

You tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic even to your own ears. For some reason, the duo didn't appreciate your joke.

“It might have been Rook,” you frowned, another new name. “He works as a hunter and serves Vi,” the young man tried to keep the conversation going with the same light laugh, which came out better than yours. However the impression he made was the same - he did not inspire confidence.

“Vi?” You asked carefully, afraid to confirm your fears.

"Exactly, you don’t know. That's what I call Vil, he is the king of these lands. We saw each other quite often at the castle!"

You were doomed. You could see the world literally crumbling before your eyes. This is exactly what was needed for happiness. Purely to confirm what you already suspected, you turned to Dominic, "What is the probability that… how did you call him, Rook?.. Reported everything to the king?"

Silence was a convincing enough answer.

Despite the chance of being discovered, you remained in the dwarves' house. It was inspired by the hopelessness and persuasiveness of Neige, who took upon himself the responsibility of your personal doctor. Although this was too strong a word, the process was still more led by the chief of the dwarves. Gradually you got to know the others.

Groom and Shelpi were part of the company that day. Although the first one was rude and hot-tempered, you couldn’t call him bad. It just took some getting used to. Shelpi was his opposite. A dwarf with a perpetually sleepy look, although you could understand him. In your current state, all you wanted to do was sleep.

There were four more gnomes: Timmy, Toby, Snick and Hop. You saw Timmy only from afar and only in someone else’s company. Perhaps he was just nervous around strangers. Toby was a sweetheart whose memory failed him more often than usual. Hop was a classic example of a cheerful child, and Snick's specialty was his perpetual allergies.

Watching their noisy but cheerful routine was a pleasant change from the nightmare that was happening in your life before. Nevertheless, you remembered Heartslabyul’s experience and were in no hurry to relax.

The more time you spent in their friendly company, the stronger the feeling of guilt grew. Understanding that they would come for you. Now or a little later didn't matter. Just like how many troubles befell the cat’s head for the company. Asking to take care of Grimm was another breaking through the ceiling called “selfishness,” but… that incident made it clear that problems were pouring down on your head more and more often. Their consequences were becoming increasingly difficult to correct.

Living with guilt was unbearable.

So much so that you were unable to look into the eyes of your faithful friend, who has literally gone through thick and thin with you, and you decided to leave him.

You didn't even hope for forgiveness. Deep inside you understood that this was just an attempt to come to an agreement with yourself, a struggle for the opportunity to hate yourself a little less. Looking at the recovering cat, this thought took root more firmly in consciousness.

The pathetic excuse “it will be better this way.”

Gradually you were allowed to take short walks. Your side still hurt, as did the wounds on back, but the fresh air helped to distract you and not drown in self-flagellation. The only activity for which you always had the strength.

Hoping to find your things, you tried to find the crash site from memory. It was stupid, especially since those trinkets were of no value. To some extent, they simply gave an imaginary sense of belonging. Reminders of your home world, which seemed farther and farther away day by day.

Moving aside the branches, you were finally able to find the desired clearing. It was like all the others, but some internal awareness did not allow you to pass by.

Check and leave.

Simple plan - simple implementation. Searching among the bushes without bending down was another challenge. Having sat down, you rose to your feet again with great difficulty, the shooting pain in your lower back made itself felt every time you tried to find your treasured things.

Breathing heavily, you leaned your hand on the trunk of a nearby tree. A little break won't hurt anyone, that's for sure in your condition. Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the clearing once again, making mental notes of where the bag might have been thrown.

There was not a soul around, or at least it seemed so. Perhaps over time you became too suspicious, but at the moment you could not leave the feeling of being watched, no matter how stupid it may sound. Who could be in the deep forest, right? Unless… who attacked you and the Grimm that day. You tsked and took another breath, trying to calm down.

It was dangerous to return to the house: you didn’t want to let Neige and his friends down. Trying to escape in an unknown direction was reckless. You didn’t know these places, one wrong turn and Robinson Crusoe will appear in this forest. Although you doubted that this world had heard of him. The possibility of becoming a discoverer was not encouraging.

"Ma cheri! What a rarity it is to find such a beautiful creature in such a dense thicket,” a voice that came out of nowhere took you by surprise.

Turning towards the sound at a speed you didn’t know you were capable of, you saw a strange blond-haired young man.

“Are you… talking about me?..” You asked carefully, simultaneously looking for a way to escape. Now the suspicions no longer seemed groundless.

"Oui! Yes and yes! A triple "yes" is not enough to prove the sincerity of my words. How brave and reckless are walks in the wilds, where every animal and people poses a danger. I had already decided that knowledge, Fata Morgana, which had darkened my mind and revealed such a fragile angel in human form!"

He spoke a lot and not very clearly, sometimes you lost the thread of the story. In your best times, you didn’t like such conversations, let alone today. However, this was a good opportunity to look at the blond. He was wearing a cream-colored tunic, loose pants and a hat with a fluffy white feather.

It was necessary to come up with an excuse and as quickly as possible. Perhaps you would be able to wander around, wait for him to leave, and return home without consequences. However, this would be too loud a statement. If there's one thing life has taught you, it was not to think ahead of time.

"Thank you, I guess?.. Did you want something?" You decided to ask directly.

"Oh, that's right. Wandering among the flora and fauna, I found one interesting little thing,” he sadly shook his head while you did everything to prevent doubts from showing on your face. "Obeying the will of my heart, I am trying to find the owner."

Emphasizing the last word, he smiled, narrowing his eyes. The nature of the emotion that flashed through them made you shiver.

"Well, I wish you good luck in your search, sir.."

"Hunt! But you can call me by my name, just Rook,” digging your nails into the palms, you kept a friendly expression on your face through an effort of will. The blond raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, and then also calmly began to close the distance. "I don’t dare to hope that you have heard of me. However, like me about you. His Majesty, Roi du Poison, has been wanting to meet you for quite some time, and who are we to refuse him."

Looking ahead at the outstretched hand and the unshakable figure of - as Neige said - the hunter, you doubted that you had any chance of escape.

[nite-v4mp]

I like just stumbled upon your blog and omg i love ur writing!! Could you write some domestic headcanons for Jacob from lurking for love? Hopefully its not too much trouble, have a nice day :3

SORRY IT TOOK ME A WHILE I just came back from a date :3 BUT UGH YES YES JACOB <3

• ACTS OF SERVICE YES YES YES That man will be SHOWING you he loves you. You dont wanna make food? he will cook. you dont wanna do laundry? he will do it!

• He will get shy if youre bold. Holding his hand has him sweating and a kiss on the cheek? He isnt washing it EVER he is kicking his feet

• Would have kept every letter or any scraps of paper or anything you might have touched in all honesty-

• He is probably a cuddlebug- but waits for YOU to initiate affection

• PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make a flower crown for him- he will wear it every day until it fell apart

• Probably would be honestly be a hopeless romantic and yalls first kiss is probably during a picnic under the stars, where youre staring at the sky and he is watching you, at the way your eyes shimmer, and is falling in love again

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Attire mission: Purchase premium attire to get an extended romantic story!

Me: *on Liam's route* Romantic my ass! This is a tragedy

[peachprinny]

my first post, my fanart of the crew

[klahadorable]

I think i will open one piece x reader headcanons!!

- klahadore/kuro ones will most likely be answered first because i like him <3

- east blue characters are the ones i feel most confident doing, but i'm fine doing other characters, Including background characters! Just be warned i may make them ooc or mischaracterize them

- the x readers will be formatted in lists, or short sentences! Either as headcanons or small snippets of a simple story split into pieces! This will be chosen by me based on what i have inspiration for!

Will do:

- yandere x reader

- platonic x reader (friends or queer platonic relationships, though im not very experienced), or romantic x reader!

- sfw, suggestive or nsfw (if i think its too risque i'll put it on my ao3, otherwise i'll simply tag it with #nsfw or #suggestive)

My inbox is open for requests! Feel free to submit multiple asks/requests, i don't mind!

[thecw-unicorn]

The Oath (Yandere! Giorno x reader)

So I originally wasn’t planning on writing this but spur of the moment idea, for @mrsgiovanna Giorno Month, and I just wanted to add one final contribution!

Prompt: “You’ll learn to love me”

TW: toxic relationship/behavior, mentions of stalking and manipulation

He was watching you, like always.

You were walking through his garden. Or rather your garden, as he had told you, as whatever belonged to him, belonged to you.

He watches intensely. He loved seeing you around the flowers, and loved it even more when you had gone the extra step taking care of the flowers. Even though you didn’t realize how they last all year long, even in the winter, and didn’t understand the nature of their existence, it warmed his heart. Your dress swaying ever slightly in the breeze, as if the whole scene did it’s best to beautify you. Not that you needed it in Giorno’s mind.

He smiled as you walked along the path, slowly taking in the sights and smells of all the beautiful flowers that surrounded you on both sides. He was glad to see you out. After you arrived, (or kidnapped, as you often called it, much to Giorno’s disappointment), you weren’t doing so good. Spending most if not all days in your room barely eating, drinking, or doing anything. He did everything he could to get you back to yourself. Gentle coaxing, sweet words, strong promises, anything he could think of. You hated to admit it, but it mostly worked. You’d spend hours thinking of your friends and family. Giorno knew it too. He’d always tell you “wouldn’t they want you to live? To be alive, and well taken care of?”

It was hard to argue with that. Not to mention you didn’t exactly have the energy to fight back. So you caved in. You’d let him hold you, let him kiss you, buy you things. Whatever his delusional idea of love was. Some days were definitely hard. The need to leave. Not just this place, but your body, your mind. It didn’t take long to learn your mind was as dangerous as the gilded cage you were stuck in. Getting out of bed, and doing something was substantially better than living in the mind numbing roar that deafens your head and strangles you in its grasp.

The wind blows softly, tickling your face and arms slightly. The scent of the flowers are blown to you as well. The scent is almost…too perfect. You make your way over to a batch of roses, the fragrance so strong it almost suffocates you. Another irregularity: no thorns. You remember the bewilderment you had felt first seeing the odd flowers. It wasn’t until Giorno had explained everything that it all made sense: the flowers were for you. The smell is as amplified as possible, no thorns to prevent picking your fingers. The whole idea had made you uneasy. They looked so perfect, so beautiful, any gardener's dream. And yet, it wasn’t read. It was fake. You couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how Giorno’s feelings were. Perfect and sweet on the surface, but ultimately a ruse. A clever trick crafted from an expert mummer, poised in the act of deception. You shook your head, not wanting to fill it with melancholy thoughts to further sour the garden visit.

You make your way to the end of the path, seating yourself on a stone bench underneath a weeping cherry blossom tree. You close your eyes, trying to find some form of relaxation in this prison. You feel the breeze softly moving the hanging flowers of the tree, tickling your upper arms and face. You tried to think happy thoughts. The flowers. Their smell wafting all around you. The sound of their swaying in the breeze. Or better yet, you tried having no thoughts at all. You’d learned to despise your brain and being in it for such long, silent, periods of time since living with Giorno. You take a deep breath, hoping to expel the already rising negative thoughts. You’d almost forgotten about your book you’d brought to read, sitting neatly beside you on the bench. You pick up the book, hoping to escape and find whatever happiness you could in this beautiful misery.

He saw that you were reading again. Finally, he thought, unable to stop the smirk forming on his face. He’d bought you all those books, since he knew of your deep love of reading from spending days watching you in detail. He was glad to see you finally using the countless gifts he’d showered you with since bringing you home. He loved watching you. Whether it was simply mundane tasks or a deep passion you had, he’d always wanted to keep as close of an eye as possible. Despite it, he knew it was creepy and invasive. But now that you were with him, he’d do whatever it takes to keep you safe and protected, even if it meant having himself or someone watching your every move.

Truth be told, he was happy to see you outside. He noticed you were having a string of bad days, preferring to stay in your room all day, barely touching the food that was sent. The dark circles would be visible on your face, your eyes holding a weary frightened glaze to them. You did your best to put up walls around you, guarding your brain, and more importantly your heart from him. But Giorno knew you. He knew everything down to a T. He remembers his words to you upon your arrival: “You’ll learn to love me.” Not only a warning, but a promise. While not to the point he’d wish, you had grown more used to your home, and especially grown used to him and being with him. Sure, it was no easy task, but enough gifts, sweet, coaxing words, and subtle, pointed reminders of his power and your family, you had become more docile. You had your…outburst every now and then but it was expected. Moving one into a whole new home and in a new relationship is no easy task, but Giorno committed himself to you. And yet, he himself struggled as well. One aspect of maintaining the seamless transition to your new home was restraint. He wanted nothing more than to express his love in every way possible, loving words, soft kisses, giving himself wholly to you. But, deep down, he knew it’d confuse you, even scare you as well having to deal with the new environment and all his love and attention. Only in the dead of night when slumber claimed you did he allow his words to push past his lips.

“You’re going to stay here now. No one will ever hurt you again. I promise. And I promise to make this your home and love you with all I am and more. I swear it.”

He remembers another time, a time he’d said words very similar to what he’d said to you. To a friend (2 years older!) before he’d rested him in white flowers forever. Never again. He wouldn’t do it again. Not for you. He’d do everything in his power to ensure you were safe and in your own little slice of Heaven. He’d love you with everything he was, and keep you here. He’d kissed your hands, and your forehead while you slept, none the wiser of the solemn oath that had been sworn over your slumber.

[dezgasting]

is Punch-Out!! still alive on tumblr? i stg most punch-out stuff i draw lately is only good for Tumblr lmao i'll give y'all a Yandere Don Flamenco for fun =P

[joonie7007]

This is the whole (sum?) of your boyfriend literally:

I love robot chicken 🫶🏻‼️‼️(I love this route and I will forever choose [this route?])

Just the thought of him carrying us back to his place with a torn up leg for NOT ONLY THAT CUTTING 1/3 of my dang leg LIKE WHAT ‼️❓ KNOW UR PROPORTIONS OR SOMETHING IDK 🫵🏼😤

I can’t wait for more days <3

Also the sneak peeks of the other days/and there’s so many other routes? Too AHH-

Also show support to them cause if im tweaking about this just imagine yall playing the game-

(RESPECT THE CREATORS RULES YA KNOW ONLY PLAY THIS 18+)

Plus it’s just a dollar yuhh

I know they make plushies but imagine if they did these too (especially the scented one the smell of forever lasting raspberries or strawberries HM YES 😤😋‼️)

(I haven’t played a lot since I’m so tired from work;-;) I’ll play I’m going to play…

[mrsgiovanna]

Imagine Darling is pregnant. Both she and Giorno are certain that the bambino isn't his. So when the baby is born and they see the baby they all go into shock. Just imagine Darling being so excited to have her lover's baby then after 9 months of waiting the baby comes out looking like a tiny Giorno. Not baby Giogio but like a little Giogio.

Ooof nonnie, lolol okay I'm going to try and match the mood here because like everyone knows how much I need to have this man's children 🏃🏽‍��️🧎🏽‍♀️🤰🏽also, was slightly confused about little giogio vs baby giogio, and im not as good at imagining infidelity so please forgive me if this wasn't what you imagined and for it being so short.

Tw: yandere behaviour, implied minor character death, fem reader, pregnancy

39 weeks... that was the reprieve you'd been granted against the smothering attention usually lavished on you by Giorno. Under any other circumstances, he would have been overjoyed... he'd finally have an heir, someone who would learn all he had to teach... however, as quickly as his joy had enveloped him, so did the levity of the situation at hand. You simply weren't as upset as he thought you might be at the prospect of carrying his child... he wasn't a fool, so he followed his instincts and poured over the security footage of the villa for the preceeding few weeks and caught sight of your infidelity... clear as day, limbs entangled and euphoria etched into your expressions, right outside his door. Surely you meant for him to catch you, or perhaps this was his karma for snatching you away from your life and placing you under his care... no matter, the damage had already been done.

From that moment onward, Giorno's demeanor had changed when it came to you, he didn't argue against your protests to spend time with him and his instructions had solely regarded the baby and their wellbeing. At first you welcomed the reprieve from his overbearing nature but when it persisted you knew something was wrong. It didn't help your cause when your lover had disappeared without so much as a goodbye. You hadn't found the opportunity to tell him that you were carrying his child, and worried that he had assumed the worst and decided to leave of his own accord. You were stuck in a precarious position... ask about your lover and rouse Giorno’s suspicions or suffer quietly in your ignorance.

Weeks had turned into months and your bump continued to grow. You had all but given up on your paramour, but you took comfort in the knowledge that you will forever have a symbol of the single thread of actual affection, in your child. Giorno had grown even more distant, your swelling midsection a continuous reminder of your betrayal, however, he couldn't bring himself to put you out or allow any harm to come to the child, the various horrors of his past would never see him become like any of those wretched people.

9 months of pregnancy cravings, stretch marks and swollen feet would culminate in one moment. Your labour was long and arduous, and for the duration you and Giorno had put your differences aside as you tried to bring him or her into the world. Many hours later when you were sure you couldn't possibly take any more pain, the baby had made their debut, just as the hour turned... April sixteenth, it was his birthday... what a gift he'd receive or so you thought... the nurses had smiled at the little blonde cherub with his shrill little cry, something dropped within you when you saw his precious little curls springing into place as they had wiped down his hair. To say that you were exhausted was an understatement, but that exhaustion was replaced by shock when they had placed your little one in your arms... piercing green eyes, golden ringlets...

"He's mine..." his voice was too calm, too soft while yours had vanished entirely. Tears formed in your eyes, your hands moving towards the border of the blanket, the little star birthmark on his shoulder had sealed your fate.

"Giorno, I..." you searched his eyes, but they were trained on the miniature version of himself nestled in your arms. Once he had overcome the shock, the gravity of the situation had dawned on him, he had finally had his heir, fate had smiled upon him once more...

[my-quirk-is-fred]

Y’all Fuboo deadass sent a C&D to Sera… for talking about things that are already public

[cozymoko]

Hello, I think requests are open.

I saw the list of animes you write for.

What do you think Jaeha, Zeno and So-woon(Akatsuki no Yona) reaction to a S/O who's a goddess more ancient than the dragons and uses human form to travel for a long time yet lose her memories every century as protection mechanism she placed on herself as she keeps doing the mistake of holding mortals too dear then falling into grief whenever they die, now she's thinking of turning them to a fellow god(privilege that can given to a god's soulmate only) after they die and she's finally willing to go back to heaven and restore her full memories?

OH MY GODDESS!!

Synopsis: The reader is an ancient God who travels as a human, but every century loses her memory to protect themselves. Now, she's debating on turning her love interest into a god to return to heaven with her.

Note: I made this have any obsessive love because when most people meet a god(ess) they'll want to worship them in my opinion. Deities have that effect on people.

Pairing: Jae-ha x female! reader, Zeno x female! reader, Soo-Won x female! reader

WARNING(S): slight obsession, angst in Zeno's part

Links: AKATSUKI NO YONA MASTERLIST, NAVIGATION

JAE-HA

BEING THE WOMANIZER he is, Jae-ha has come across his fair share of pretty faces; but he didn't expect a goddess to be one of them. It was evident that you were from the heavens, blessed with ineffable amounts of beauty and an ambiance just as tempting. It was no surprise the man would look to pursue you.

It's decided; he shall join you in the afterlife. As your one and only, to bask in your beauty and grace until the sun touches the horizon. Somehow you managed to sweep the playboy off his feet in record-breaking time, although that's supposedly his job. It was almost embarrassing how fast he accepted your proposal, so much so that a deep red tinge can be seen dusting his cheeks. Never had he been so enamored with a woman, one way out of his league at that.

Now the memory aspect has piqued his interest. Relationships are precious, insightful even, so why would you want to forget them? Regardless, he respects your decision. Yet over time, Jae-Ha soon realizes he'd rather you lose all memories that don't include him. After all, he's a bit jealous of all the experiences you may have had with your past lovers, and he'd rather not have any more competition than needed.

“Oh my, I believe it's that time, isn't it? Let us go to the heavens above where we shall become one. Unfortunately, I don't think I can take the anticipation much longer darling.”

ZENO

A REAL LIFE GODDESS in the flesh? Woah, this must be his lucky day. Like with most things in life, Zeno is ecstatic. Through the many centuries he's lived, not once has he been graced with the presence of a deity such as yourself. Beautiful doesn't begin to describe the beauty that endowed you. It was as though he was looking a fairy tale princess right in the eyes. Various compliments spilled from his smiling lips faster than he could account for. If he was feeling even the slightest bit of shame you had not noticed.

This being your human form enticed him to dig up the real you. He would hate to k now you're hiding anything from him. You are not obligated to unveil what you desire not to, but he'd rather bask in as much of your authenticity as "humanely" possible. Zeno is quite jealous of your ability to forget about the past, and until he met you he wished to do the same. Maybe then would he be able to start all over again and experience life one step at a time with you sticking closely by his side.

Zeno's dragon grants him the gift of immortality so dying is out of the question. He has lived to see many dragons come and go, greeted by death and to god knows where. It saddens him that even with his new powers he won't be able to fulfill your wishes. In the end, Zeno's purpose is to serve Yona and no one else. But only one woman can make his heart beat so sporadically, rendering him speechless each time they meet eyes.

“It's a shame, y'know? I really wish I could go with you and keep you company. Hah—!? Don't cry; we'll figure something out, I'm sure of it!”

SO-WOON

SOMEONE SO POWERFUL should have never taken interest in him, but oh is he glad they did. A deity, from the heavens nonetheless, had come before him with curiosity at that. Just a short conversation with you proved how extensive your knowledge is. And from the sound of it, you were much older than many mythical beings of this time. So as one does, Soo-Won ponders ways to use that to his advantage, even if it meant deceiving you. However, that was before he put his plan into motion.

Soo-Won was destined to fall deeper and deeper into the alluring solace of the goddess he had merely hoped to use. Now, the man wished to undress her, uncovering every inch of her ravishing skin; so perfect and warm. He wished to taint her with his blooded hands so she could learn to love his true nature as he loved hers. He realizes his selfishness but he simply doesn't care. There shall be no lies between you two and he'll make sure of it.

He would long for nothing more than to be with you until his last breath, even if he does not deserve to. The sins he's committed should send him nowhere but the raging depths of hell. However, he will not lose you to those cocky bastards that resided above the clouds who were waiting to take his place. And he will never allow you to erase anything regarding your future, together for eternity.

“My beautiful goddess, where have you gone? I was worried sick; Hah...I'd thought those disposable fools had gotten to you. With your permission, I shall get rid of them in your stead.”

[yandere-toons]

Pov: lesbian reader's gf texts them but they're hanging out with FOWL

Steelbeak is who they're taking for a walk. He's like the guard dog who's bigger than the person with him. He recognises the gf's name in an instant and shoots the reader a thumbs-up, intent on watching their phone screen to make sure the whole exchange goes smoothly.

Bradford has tried to coach them on what they can and can't say, wishing to avoid a repeat of the kidnapping incident. Yet since a buzzard may never be too paranoid in his line of work, he demands that Gandra bug their phone. He listens in on a few of the texts, but the raw levels of affection and trust repel him.

Gandra gets stuck with that responsibility as well.

The tire screech is incredible — it's a black limousine with tinted windows and no license plate. Jeeves has taken the wheel and skidded to a stop in the middle of a four-way intersection, now stepping out of the car and opening the backdoor to reveal a small party.

Rockerduck is drinking a centuries-old bottle of wine, pinkie outstretched, and telling tales of how he conquered the West. Don Karnage leans into the sunlight to greet the reader, strumming and singing and tapping his foot in unison.

[b4nryfoster]