#yandere len x reader

[k-popanimeotomeandyanderes]

Yandere!Len Kagamine falling for gn!reader headcanons

• On some level, when Len starts developing feelings, he realizes this is different from other times. He's been with many people in the past, but it never felt anything like this. He can't get you out of his head, and his thoughts get… dark sometimes.

• In this state, he's not going to directly try to date you. He doesn't want you to see how intense his feelings are, which in his mind would give you an advantage over him in your theoretical relationship. He wants to wait for this “phase” of infatuation to pass and pretend he's been totally normal around you the whole time.

• So, what does he decide to do to sort out his feelings? Try to get over you the only way he knows how, distracting himself with other people. He thinks that maybe if he has enough attention from other people, these feelings will just naturally come to an end. After all, feelings like this could only be the product of lonely delusions, right?

• Unfortunately for Len (and you), no amount of romantic or sexual encounters changes how he feels. In fact, he's stuck wishing it were you every time. It gets so bad that he even slips up and calls others by your name.

• Another thing that catches him off guard is the jealousy. He can't handle seeing you with other people, even if they're not a threat to your purely hypothetical relationship. Len ends up seething from something as small as your hand brushing someone else's, and god forbid anyone try to flirt with you. He's not used to showing restraint, so letting his jealousy get the best of him is probably the easiest way for you to see through to his yandere tendencies.

• None of this is normal. He knows that. He's painfully aware of how weird all the things he wants to do are, and he's definitely not supposed to be stalking you, but there he is, following you home. As time passes, he just gets more and more obsessed with you. Even Len himself doesn't get it. Objectively, you're just another person. How could he be this attached to you? What happened to his fuckboy image? Now he's stealing your things and praying you don't notice any of your more intimate items missing.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Animal Farm: Tuesdays

Three Yandere Dog Men x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, knotting, nonhuman genitals, cum swallowing, spitroasting, biting, male harem, dog men, reader fucked silly, general yandere behavior, licking, scent marking Word Count: 555 (The next long awaited installment in my farm series. I hope you all love it. <3 I did not bother having this beta read, sorry for any mistakes. The original fic can be found HERE along with the links to the other installments)

You were still tired from the thorough orgy that the harpies had given. At least they provided you with plenty of gentle aftercare. But now it was Tuesday. And that meant that you were the property of the dog-men. Another day in the endless cycle of being a cumdump for horny monster men. You really dreaded time with the dogs. They always ended up biting the hell out of your neck. You entered the small cabin that the dog men inhabited and one of the cat men, Lionel, came stumbling out with a dazed look on his face and cum dribbling down his thighs. Good… maybe that would mean there urges were already taken care o- Your train of thought was interrupted when you were thrown on the bed by the most assertive of the three dog men, the one that had the ears and tail of s German Shepherd, Thorn. His claws slid under your waist band and partially pulled down to reveal your hole which he lapped at like a treat. ��Fuck, I have been waiting a week for this farmer~” Apparently breeding Lionel did nothing to quell the desire to bury their knots in you. When he got tired of fucking you with his tongue he slid his dick in to the base, the bone in it jabbed you painfully until it mercifully swelled to full size. The stretch was only mildly uncomfortable. After bringing you to climax his knot inflated in you and kept the two of you tied with him periodically humping gently to enjoy the sweet friction against his knot as he plied you full of his hot seed. He gave your neck a quick bite before sliding out of you and then before you knew it one of the other two, this time the husky-like dog man, Corr, was slamming into you. But the third, Len, the fluffy one that had the features of a Newfoundland, couldn’t wait his turn. So while Corr was busy breeding your overstimulated hole Len took it upon himself to slide past your soft lips. The smell of his musky cock filled your nostrils as his nuts slapped your chin with every thrust. You whimpered and moaned lustfully into his cock as Corr started to knot you. Corr bit you on your shoulders and back as he began the long process of slowly depositing cum in waves into you as dog men did. Your body shook as you came again, but you started gagging a bit as Len knotted in your mouth. His dick twitched periodically as it sent another wave of bitter cum down your throat, leaving you no other option but to swallow. If you thought you were done you were sorely mistaken. Thorn had gotten hard again and plunged his cock right back into your now cum-lubed hole the second Corr had pulled out of it. A few hours later, when the fuck fest was finally done, the dog men all turned very loving and gentle. They licked you clean of their seed and bathed you, but they rubbed your clothes with their scent before allowing you to get dressed again. They spent the rest of the day feeding, cuddling, and caring for their little mate who was too dazed and tired from all the sex to really do much.

[nekoooooo-p]

Demo: Yandere Hatsune Miku Headcanons

art by: yanderous on Tumblr

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CW: internet stalking; (a little) gaslighting

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This is a demo, which may become a full-fledged large text, written and with a plot. Keyword MAY-..it all depends on you guys, you just have to ask me!

This is just an attempt to distract from the Phosphophyllite headcanons, since there is text there for five seconds of free fast scrolling down... and that's not all...That's why I'm stupidly tired of this and I desperately need a distraction HAHAHA

BTW, VERY FUN FACT.

Based (mostly) on real events :)

Enjoy!

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× You don't know each other.

× Do you know why?

× Because she's just a robot.

× Vocal synthesizer without identity.

× All that is known about her is known from fans and her design.

× Empty.

× ...

× She is loved.

× She's popular.

× And you also see her on community pages, like drawings, listen to music, and perhaps try to do something creative yourself.

× Of course, you didn't know just Miku.

× You knew other Vocaloids too. Rin, Len, Luka, Meiko, Gumi, Flower, Fukase - there were a lot of them, you didn’t know them all, but you heard about many.

× You began to notice that many people had a favorite. And you also decided to choose your favorite Vocaloid.

× The simplest and quite normal choice was Miku.

× But you decided to take someone else as your favorite, because loving Miku is banal.

× The choice has been made.

× . . .

× It doesn’t matter who you chose, but you dreamed about them

.

.

.

× You dreamed of them fighting with Miku.

× In an old school building, two people were strangling each other. Two vocal synthesizers. ×

× It seems that the thin fingers of the long-haired girl with ponytails were squeezing someone else’s throat an order of magnitude stro

.

.

.

.

.

× You woke up.

.

.

.

× The dream was strange, but in the end it was just a dream - you struggled with yourself for a long time, trying to choose one of the two - and you didn’t choose Miku. That's why you dreamed about some bullshit.

×

× ...

× Overall, no big deal.

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× It is vital for you to finish the project, but instead you are interested in reading some article on the Internet.

× You read the article with curiosity and look at the comments.

× People share opinions there - nothing unusual....

.

.

.

× ...Until you suddenly see Miku in the book cover photo.

× You stare at this in surprise - the article was not about Vocaloids at all, just like the comment itself with the photo.

× You take a screenshot with a laugh, close the article and finally remember about the project. Haha, it was funny, Miku reminded you of your studies.

× You jokingly thank the non-existent character out loud and take out your notebooks.

.

.

.

× As it turned out, you had something to thank Miku for - you were called in during class and asked to answer with almost no preparation.

× Of course, such coincidences make you even a little scared - but only if they are repeated often. So it was just really funny now.

× You told your friends about this coincidence, you laughed together and celebrated the excellent completion of the project.

.

.

.

× It's funny, but one day you again came across a funny coincidence - the author of your favorite fanfic not from the Vocaloid fandom suddenly added Miku to the plot as a reference and a side character.

.

.

.

× Oh , how small the world is!

.

.

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× The dream repeated itself.

.

.

.

× You began to have trouble sleeping - your dreams became strange and distorted. Once you even dreamed of some outright nonsense with Miku figurines.

× You were in your own room, scrolling through the marketplace. And saw strange, unfinished figures there.

× M i k u. ×

× At one point, one of the figures independently adds itself to the basket and you laugh. For some reason.

× Suddenly the second figure does the same.

× . . .

× Then the third. Then the fourth.

× This caused bewilderment, laughter and showed only the absurdity of a strange situation.

× And then you suddenly looked at the floor behind the phone... and saw there a whole bunch of scary, unfinished, broken, mangled toys and Hatsune Miku figurines.

× You back away - and the figures keep growing and growing in geometric progression.

× You are afraid that now they will fill the entire room, and you will suffocate in this huge pile of plastic - but as soon as your back hits an obstacle, you wake up.

.

.

.

× And what was that?

.

.

.

× Nothing changes in your life - everything is quite as usual, the same communication, the same activities, the same living space, the same environment. Everything is calm and as usual.

× You don't pay attention to the little things.

× You see Miku a lot of places - on other people’s badges, notepads, many people ask if you know her, ask you to tell her, you see her periodically in advertisements...And this is provided that Miku and Vocaloids, in principle, were not so popular in your circle!

× Sekai must have made Vocaloids more famous and that's why you started bumping into Miku so often.

×

× ..but why Miku?

× After all, during all the time you saw something definitely related to Sekai only a couple of times, while Miku in her various manifestations almost always. You even bothered to meet a cosplayer who wanted to cosplay as Miku.

× You communicated actively for some time, but then something went wrong and you quarreled.

.

.

.

× ...By the way, when you almost stopped communicating, you later found out that he refused to cosplay Miku for some reason.

× An interesting coincidence.

× Somehow there are a ton of them, don’t you think?

.

.

.

× One day you saw a badge with Miku on the bag of one person, with whom you later had to get to know each other better due to certain circumstances. You talked for a couple of hours out of necessity and you complimented their badge.

"What are you talking about? I've never had a badge with Hatsune Miku..."

× The confused face of your interlocutor unsettled you.

× But...but you saw!

.

.

.

× what the heck?

× And this happened several times. You even thought that you had problems with vision or memory...

.

.

.

× The frequency of appearances of the Vocaloid girl in your life reached the point of absurdity. After all, in addition to appearing in your feed and advertising, she was also in your real life - acquaintances, conversations, badges, other merch, unusual projects of classmates and even in fucking magazines.

× You bumped into her absolutely everywhere.

× And then at some point you decided to download Vocaloid.

× You found your favorite producer who used your favorite vocaloid, you listened to the music of this producer, and finally you wanted to make covers or songs yourself.

× You were looking for a pirated version because you didn’t have money, although you were ashamed, in a sense, to download a pirated version.

× The voice bank you found in the public domain was... Miku's voice bank!

× In general, you weren’t against it - you liked Miku, but she was somewhere in second or third place on the list of favorites.

× When you started making covers using her bank, a question arose - why do many people say that Miku is difficult for a beginner? You were great at tuning her voice. And people liked your covers.

×

× ...

× ....by the way, it’s strange that you no longer come across Miku anywhere other than your feed.

<----------×--------->

End of demo.

<---------×---------->

[lesinquietes]

I'm sorry but can you please puzzle out the symptoms of Stockholm syndrome in the last chapter of thief? because I don't think I get them as doc is only fooling Dabi into thinking that she missed him and have stockholm.

Let me offer this. As humans, we tend to think we have control over all aspects of our lives; sometimes, to the extent wherein we stop monitoring ourselves in certain areas when we believe we’ve gained enough proficiency in them. In Doc’s case, she’s a psychologist. She’s gone through a decade or more of school to get to where she is professionally. The woman’s deep in the business of rewiring thought patterns, exploring emotions, and restructuring behaviour in her patients. So, she shouldn’t have an issue with something like stockholm syndrome, right? She’s totally gonna trick Dabi into thinking she baited and nothing is affecting her.

Unfortunately, that’s wildly untrue.

Trauma does shit to your brain. The effects are different for everyone, but generally, we see an increased and sustained stress response that impacts feelings, thoughts, behaviours, and most importantly, one’s perception of themselves and their environment. Doc is not immune to these factors, as much as she may be in tune with them enough to recognize what could be happening. Reality is a little distorted for her after experiencing all four forms of abuse.

Last chapter, when she leans into Dabi’s touch, that’s a great example of her unconsciously seeking comfort. There’s a reason why practitioners will start by working on altering the client’s behaviour in many therapies; it’s because thoughts and feelings are harder to change. Doc doesn’t realize that her microbehaviour is very telling of how much Dabi’s treatment is getting to her, and gradually warping her thinking. The stockholm syndrome be creepin’.

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: yandere awakening

part two

gn reader

Thinking of having a nullifying cursed technique without knowing it…

Curses, attacks, and techniques have no effect on you—once cursed energy comes into contact within your range, it ceases to exist. You're a human erasure for all things paranormal.

And it’s beyond strange for a certain six-eyed limitless sorcerer...

Gojo sees on a molecular level—it's like converging x-ray and thermal and night-vision into one lens that's both microscopic and telescopic at the same time—he sees energy and atoms—he sees everything, he sees through everything. Nothing escapes. The tiniest shift in someone’s expression indicates exactly what they’re thinking, and he can tell—as if he can read minds even though he can’t. Everything is just so obvious. Everything. Even though he is blindfolded, he can see. All things energy, light, heat, movement, what someone had for lunch, the tiniest vibration in the ground and buildings around him, the slight shift in the wind when a butterfly flaps its wings a mile away. It’s all there for him, laid bare before his many eyes. Everything, and then he bumps straight into you.

It's by no means any powerful encounter—his body is much taller and bigger. It’s rather you who’s dealt an impact, bouncing off and staggering back until falling hard on your ass.

But he’s no less shocked because of it. Something just passed through both limitless and six eyes. An attack from a curse? A technique from a sorcerer? Here? Now? On the open street on his way to buy mochi? No… what’s going on? What on earth was that?

“Ouch—what the? Watch where you’re going! And what’s up with the blindfold, you lunatic!?”

Watch where you’re going, huh… He’s never heard that before. Even stranger, who is speaking? He peels his blindfold up and… wow.

He can see you. No, not like he can see the others around you—passing bodies full of flesh and blood and bones and food. You’re none of that, you’re just a face and body. You have a rumpled expression—sour. He can tell you’re upset, but it’s harder than it’s supposed to be. He has to think about it all on his own. Yes, you’re mad. At him? Yes. You’re mad at him.

You’re mad at him, and yet he doesn’t care. There are more important matters. Like, who the hell or what the hell are you?

“Well?” you state snappily, and yes, it was you who had spoken earlier. “Are you gonna help me up or what?”

He doesn’t know if he should. You’d only touched him indirectly before, through two layers of both of your clothing. What if your skin burns his? What if everything ceases to exist?

He does it anyway.

Reaching down his hand, he holds his breath and recites seconds within his head as if he’s counting down towards the end of the world—one, two, three, and…

It burns. But not in a bad way. But it burns—everywhere all at once—igniting him like a matchstick ripped across the red. It burns, but it feels good. And he realizes he’s felt cold his entire life.

“Uhm, you can let go now,” you drag him out of his discoveries.

He looks away from his grip on your hand and at you, now standing, and wow, really wow… It’s like he’s seeing for the first time. There’s so much he's blind to, and yet, nothing's ever been clearer—the smoothness of skin, the soft differences in its pigment, the vividness of eyes—your eyes. He knows they aren’t, but they’re the biggest he’s ever seen.

“Hey, buddy, are you alright?” you ask now, leaning towards him—a hand on his shoulder, its burning warmth seeping in through his jacket, as the other remains in his. “Is there someone I should call?”

Oh right. He must be acting like an asylum escapee.

“I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. I’m great. I’m Gojo. Satoru Gojo,” one after the other, words leave him as if he’s forgotten how to act normal.

“Okay then—that’s good, uhm, Mr. Gojo.” 

How strange. He can’t tell what you’re thinking at all—in fact, he hasn’t the slightest clue—it’s all a guessing game. It’s as if before, all he needed to do was look at a book to know what was written within, but with you, he actually needs to read. And he's never learned how to.

“Uhm, alright, so I’ll be on my way then—”

“No!” his grip tightens, and you gasp with a jolt, looking at him even wider than before. Shit. “I mean… I’m sorry. I should… I should apologize for walking straight into you. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, I’m good. It’s really alright. No need to worry. I should really go, though—”

You look positively freaked-out now—if he were to make a purely uneducated guess. You tried pulling your hand to yourself again, and it became more clear—he was making you uncomfortable. But still, he didn’t want to let go. Even with limitless off, nothing had ever felt as good as the contact he was feeling right now. He doesn’t think he can let go. But shit—people are beginning to stare…

“Okay, I’m sorry—” he lets go, and you instantly hurry along with quick steps, shuffling through the crowded street as if you’d just encountered a madman.

Maybe he is. He sure follows after you like one.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[iicarused]

##let us adore you

jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED

synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them

beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !

envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)

JEFF THE KILLER

he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?

he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.

“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.

you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?

he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.

“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.

“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”

through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.

“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”

you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.

EYELESS JACK

you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.

you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.

to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving

“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.

the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.

the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.

“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.

you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before

this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights

he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.

TICCI TOBY

your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.

he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.

everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.

you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.

turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be

“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.

you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”

while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.

“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”

[neuvilyney]

— 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟

★ soft!lover!wanderer x shy!reader requested by @dobadoo

★ I don't actually remember the specific request that was sent in, but the reader was supposed to be more innocent and naive with scaramouche being more cold and distant, so hopefully I got that right lmaoo enjoy!

★ disclaimer: you and wanderer are in an established relationship and there's definitely a lot of physical touch, Wanderer's also more of a soft yandere here.

A gift from the heavens, an angel amidst lowlives, perhaps even a miracle, was his precious flower. He couldn’t help but admire the way rays of morning sunlight danced over the slopes and curves of your body as you slept. If only his creator had installed a lens inside his eyes that’d allow him to photograph this moment, bury it somewhere deep inside him beside the remnants of his past selves. And to think other people would’ve been able to see you like this had he not sunk his claws into your heart first and foremost…no, no that wouldn’t do. 

Luckily, you stirred before your lover could conjure yet another fictional scenario to get angry over. “Go back to sleep, flower.” Wanderer murmured, the tips of his ball-jointed fingers gliding over the line of your brows to brush away any sleep-tousled hairs from your bleary eyes. You looked so lovely like this, just barely rousing from sleep to the sight of him sitting up in bed with those piercing eyes staring down at you- calculating, almost cold had it not been for the way your warmth melted the ice around his heart.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, rolling onto your side and then slumping forward with a groan. His hand naturally found its way to your back, briefly tracing the line of your spine up to your nape- bare skin compared to where his electro sigil remained etched into his skin as a permanent reminder of what was meant to be his legacy. “Hey, you’re-...you’re staring, stop that…” He could only smirk, feeling the warmth of your skin nearly double as blood rushed to your face in embarrassment under his wordless stare. 

“It’s early. And it’s not like you’re stopping me, quit your whining.” Cold fingers trace around your neck when he tilted his head to find your eyes with his own, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. A sweet gesture, though like everything he did, calculated. Each pass of his hands on your skin, each smile you gifted him, he absorbed your light like darkness. Your stars to be lost in his skies. You’d never have to worry, of course, not when he took such good care of you. From the first day you stumbled into him, in disarray and a flurry of apologies over tripping into him or something- he couldn’t quite remember what you said, not when he was so entranced by how alive you were. His personal sunshine for skin damned to run cold. 

Similarly, it was his detached demeanor that drew you closer to the puppet. Like smoldering embers, a flame dormant- just waiting for a spark to render it alive again. “You look like a mess.” He snorted, tugging at the wrinkled fabric of your sleepwear. In retort, a huff left your lips as you grabbed his shirt and tugged him backwards- an uncharacteristically bold move from his sweetheart of a lover. 

“And you look pristine. Something you wanna tell me, mister?” Came your playful chiding, knowing that he rarely slept. Sleep to you was necessary- to him, it was an excuse to lay with you. 

“Careful,” Wanderer scoffed, his whole hand laid over your giggling face and pushing you back onto the bed. “You’ve gotten a bit too cheeky as of late.” He griped, scowling with his arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t tell me I’m already influencing you?”

When you only bashfully smiled and shrugged where you lay, the blankets enshrouded about your bodies like clouds, the frown lines about his lips softened. With an exaggerated sigh, the former harbinger lay beside you and dragged you by the head to lay on his shoulder. “Fine. We’ll rest an hour more, but that’s it.” He begrudgingly speaks, as if it wasn’t his idea.

And as you slowly fall back asleep, overheating the bedsheets with your warmth while his cold body cools you back down, he stares up at the ceiling with a lazy smirk. All this song and dance to keep you under his control when it was plainly obvious that it was you who had the lone wanderer wrapped around your pretty little finger. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Word Count: 626

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

- Ky♡♡

[suiana]

(yandere! fan x gn! idol reader) (cw: murder, stalking, slight nsfw, yandere stuff)

Yoon-Jae likes to think of himself as your biggest fan.

He buys all your albums, attends all your fan-meets, hell, he even buys all your merch! He just wants to support his favourite idol after all.

You deserve it. Really.

He still remembers how you used to be laughed at by the other students for being a nerd.

You, his old high school classmate, the one he's always pined after even when you were a cute geeky nerd that got teased on a daily basis. Those were good times, he thinks. Before your rise to stardom and exposure to the rest of the world. When times were simpler and you were just someone he had a huge crush on because you were so his type. You two didn't even talk to one another but he had already decided that you were his crush. His first and only crush.

Yoon-Jae still finds it hard to believe that time has already passed by just like that. It's been a good couple of years since you two were in the same class, he still can't believe it. Cute, nerdy, and a little bit of a loser. Sure he knows he's popular and attractive, but opposites attract don't they?

He remembers it like yesterday, to when he first decided to act on his growing feelings for you.

It started out with small things. Following you around in public, being your own personal paparazzi. A little click here and there never hurt anyone. Not when you were so beautifully going about doing your things. His breath always hitches whenever he brings his camera up to his shaky blue eyes to snap another picture of you. The perfect you.

It was like you were made for the spotlight. Made for the cameras. I mean, how could you not be? You're perfect. Everything about you is like a blessing from the god's above. Your smiles, your laughter, the way your face would flush a little from laughing too much... Everything about you needed to be framed in a mueseum. Truly a work of art.

Click, Click, Click.

His camera fired away at everything you did. Even the most mundane of things. The tall Korean man estimates he probably had taken about 5000 pictures of you on a day to day basis back when you both were still students. If you ask his present self how many pictures he takes on a daily basis now it would probably be 2 or 3 times more than what he used to take.

In any case, he finds it a little cute how you were completely oblivious to his photo-taking. How you went around your day-to-day life while remaining blissfully unaware of the photos he shot of you.

Then things got a bit worse.

He thought it wasn't enough to just follow you around outside. No, he needed a glimpse into your private life, the one you kept behind closed doors. Yoon-Jae thought it would help him learn more about you.

And it did. It helped him to learn more about your character. About the person that hid behind a pair of thick round glasses and a nervous stutter when around others in class. The person he saw through a rose-eyed lens.

It was as though he got a glimpse into your soul.

So of course he had to continue breaking into your house to see you in your private space. Of course he had to install cameras in your room to observe how you acted when no one else was around. Of course he had to watch you 24/7. Of course he had to.

It was cute seeing you dance and sing around like some famous idol. Your voice was always so soothing that he'd fall asleep while watching you. This was something he never thought the cute little nerd in his class would enjoy doing. But if it makes you happy he'll be more than happy to support it. You were already an idol in his eyes anyway. It's even better if you wanted to act like a real one.

To be honest, he had secretly hoped you'd notice him. He finds it arousing to say the least. To be caught doing such an intimate thing with his beloved muse... It sends his heart racing, sweat rolling down the sides of his pale forehead as his member strains painfully against his sweatpants.

But you never did and he can't tell whether it's a blessing or a curse that you were so oblivious. No matter, the dark haired man can wait. He's always been patient after all. It's something his mom praised him for since he was young.

The more he learned about you, the more Yoon-Jae couldn't help but be a little peeved that you were still being bullied. He couldn't understand why such a sweet thing like yourself would get teased and called names for liking things so passionately. It's cute. So very adoravle. And he absolutely hated it that others would make fun of you for it. He hated it.

So he decided to get rid of them. What is the point of their lives if they couldn't appreciate the perfection that you are? They are the scum of the earth. Vermin who didn't deserve to live.

His usually neat and tidy appearance was a mess by the time he was done getting rid of the first person. He still regrets wear his favourite white shirt to get rid of all these pests. Their filth got all over him after all, blood and tears staining his pristine clothes.

Yoon-Jae remembers his mother horrified expression as she immediately clutched his arms, asking if he was hurt. He had to repeatedly reassure her that he was fine and just doing it for you. Her face immediately relaxed after that.

"You found your other half then? Are they like your father?"

"Mom it's not-"

"You should bring them back soon. I want to meet my son's beloved! I've been waiting for this day for so long!"

The Korean guy was so confused by his mother's words. Love? He never saw what he was doing as love. He thought it was just... doing what he should do. You're perfect so he should devote himself to you. That's how things are, no?

He started questioning himself after that. Did he... love you? Really? I mean, yeah, he did have a crush but it couldn't be love, could it? Love is a really strong word... He thinks he's just giving you the attention and affection you deserve.

In the midst of getting rid of his final victim, he decided to spill his heart out to them.

"I just... I don't know whether I really love them, you know? Like... I'm doing all this but... It's more like, I want them to be safe and protected from all the bad people. And yeah, maybe I wanna get with them too but that's not very important, is it?"

"U-uh..."

His soft black locks stick to his sweaty forehead, his chest heaving slightly as he continues talking about his feelings to the half dead person. Maybe they'll give him some enlightenment? I mean, they decided to harm you... They should at least give him some advice, no?

"Hey, what do you think? Since you decided to make fun of them you probably know right?"

"I-I don't know-"

"What was that?"

"I meant you probably love them! P-Please don't kill me!"

And just like that, it was like a switch was flipped in his brain.

He made quick work of the person... Well, at least they were useful in the end. He supposes they're not totally good for nothing.

Yoon-Jae decides to confess to you the next day. He brings in flowers and sprays his special cologne. He's positive that you'll reject him today, but he doesn't care. He'll just continue to confess until you finally give in and love him back. You're bound to fall for him one day or another.

Sadly, his luck completely failed him that day and you weren't anywhere in sight. At all.

He spent the whole day asking about your whereabouts, fretting over your well-being as his minds spirals into a states of paranoia. Were you kidnapped? Did someone hurt you? Sick? Where the hell were you?!

And that's when he heard it. You got scouted by an entertainment company and moved to a school closer to your agency.

An idol. You were going to become an idol.

It was as though his heart had stopped and his whole world was flipped upside down. Oh.

Oh.

The realization that you were actually going to stand on a grand stage with hundreds of thousands of eyes on you finally settled in and his heart couldn't help but swell with pride. His idol, his beloved idol. The one he loved and would protect to death. Yoon-Jae couldn't help but feel satisfied knowing that some person finally realized your potential. Took them long enough, he mumbles while walking back home with the bouquet of flowers.

Was he sad that he couldn't confess to you? Sure, yeah he was. He's not going to deny it or lie. It really fucking hurt when you weren't there to witness his confession. But the fact that you had actually gone to become an idol... That made everything all better.

He'd finally be able to worship and love you like you were meant to be worshipped. An idol. His idol. He'd be able to prattle and gush about you without receiving any weird looks. Everyone else will be doing the same thing anyway. They can't and won't be able to judge him. In fact, they'd be understanding of why he's so obsessive over you. You're perfect, he repeats. Such perfection is worth losing his mind over. He's sure everyone would agree.

He can't help but grin in excitement as he anticipates your debut. A cute concept? A sexy concept? Both? He thinks that you'd suit everything.

When you finally debuted he feels like he could die at that second. You, in all your glory, was standing in the middle of a stage. A soloist. The sole star of the show. He's glad your agency hadn't put you in a group. He'd feel bad for your other members, already knowing that you'd outshine them all. It's not even up for debate.

It's no surprise that Yoon-Jae's the first to buy all your merchandise. The first one to book tickets to all your shows and fan meets. He's in the front row screaming your name with his heart, blue eyes all wide and cheeks flushed as he publicly displays his devotion for you.

You don't notice him at first, but as time goes by and he continues to support you, he's become a familiar face amongst your ever growing crowd. Yoon-Jae. You hadn't realized that the popular guy in your old class had liked your music so earnestly. Maybe it was a safe haven from the horrible deaths back in your old school. You believed your music to be comforting after all.

His slender hands intertwine with yours as he appears at your fan meet for the nth time. He comes bearing more gifts than before, way too excited to chat to you one-on-one again.

"Darling, darling! You look amazing like usual! I bought this expensive cartier necklace for you today. Do you want me to put it on for you?"

"Haha, of course. You're my sweetest fan! Come put it on for me?"

The lines between idol and fan slowly start to blur to him. Yoon-Jae thinks that you truly mean what you say whereas you were just doing what an idol does. Fan-service.

But Yoon-Jae doesn't care about that. Why would he? You're his other half. He even got his mother to watch your content with him. She says she's eager to meet her son's future spouse. His father is a little bit more reserved, always hiding in his room and reading quietly, not wanting to talk to him. Whatever, he'll meet you one on one when the time comes. And you'll be his when the time comes. Though he loves you as an idol, he loves you as his lover more. The tall black haired guy is already counting down the days to when your contract ends.

For now, he'll continue supporting you as your biggest fan. He always will be your biggest fan even after your career too. You're an idol in his eyes through and through and nothing will change that.

Nothing will ever change that.

[bluetooththereptile]

Unwelcomed embrace (part two)

Yandere super family x neglected reader

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: this one shot is continuation of this one.

Tw: mentions of violence

"Why don't you have one of those small micro earphones that you attach to the collar of the clothing?" You groaned as you tried to find a good position to rest your hand on under the weight of the mic in your hand, you sighed as you looked at its round head, you didn't like it that much, it felt uneasy in your palm. The chair was too rigid for you to sit comfortably on it, creaking under your weight. You looked down at the mic that had a sock on as a muffler, smiling at the inventiveness of the reporter. "I presume your budget is not that much huh?" The reporter nodded with a sheepish smile as he tried to put on some powder to conceal some of the scar marks on your face, well, as much as your skin color let him do so. "Yeah..." he sighed "the budget is low."

You looked at him, focused on his task, young and ambitious, just like you, you felt like he had the same recklessness as well, why would a sane person come and meet a dangerous anti-hero over a post on Twitter? "Ready?" He asked as he adjusted his camera, you shifted on your seat once more, checking the dark background of the warehouse you were in, and then looked back at the shiny lens of the camera. You paused, still, your hand didn't have a good place to rest its elbow on, huffing in irritation, you rolled your eyes, you had to do something about it, if it kept irritating you, you'd end up messing everything up. So you focused on the cemented floor below, making a thick-bodied plant sprout out of the harsh floor and bend towards you, its leaves forming a cocoon, you smirked and put the mic on the head of the plant and used it as a stand, chuckling at the amazement of the reporter "Now I'm ready!"

"1...2...3..." the reporter spoke softly before the camera started filming and the red light on its front started blinking. "Alright, please introduce yourself..." he spoke to you behind the camera, tapping his pen nervously, you hummed to yourself and tapped your chin as you crossed your legs, trying to find a point to start from "I feel like a Podcaster now..." you joked, before clearing your throat as you started "Well, I'm what media used to call the "Green super" You used quotation marks in the air, your voice showing hints of your initial irritation to the name, which had associated you with superman since your powers were nearly the same. "But now I go with the Green Death, pretty cheesy, but I like it" you chuckled and continued "Well the name is not that far off from my personality either, I am green, my skin is that color."

"So, Green Death, your name has been on the news as the sole force that has kept the Armageddon from happening, twice, already, and now you, all of a sudden, while you had ignored the chance of interviewing with huge media broadcasters, have decided to have an interview now, here in the middle of nowhere, why is that?" You rubbed your chin as you thought about a response, your lips tilting upwards in a smirk "Well, now I have enough evidence to finally show the world who the heroes truly are." You paused, taking it the confused expression of the reporter, adding quickly "Make no mistake, I'm not going to expose their identities, that would make hell break loose, I just simply want to shed a much more different light on them and their actions. As you may know, I was a part of the young Justice League and then Justice League itself for a few years, and I'm the result of a 'heroic affair' myself, so I'd have a very different insight on them..."

"Why though? I mean we pretty much know about the heroes..." You let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in your seat "Well, that is sort of true, but tell me, do you know of the assaults and different crimes that have happened by their hands? For example, do you know Batman has kidnapped nearly three people and has erased their documents out of the system, making them vanish into thin air, never to be seen?" The reporter's eyes widened at that, your smirk turned into a wide smile as you continued "I have both the video footage and documents of it happening..."

"B-but why do you want to expose them for their deeds, knowing well you are fully aware of what they can do, surely they don't want anyone to know that... " "I have exposed the bad guys of the story already, my mother is after me because of that, so I don't think exposing the heroes would be any different...the world has to know who they truly are!"

You were hellbent on tarnishing the images of the heroes once and for all.

Since the time you had left the Justice League, your life had changed a lot, just within two years, you had gone from being a hero to a villain and then to an anti-hero, a cruel topsy turvey irony. It all had started with your mother finally owning up to her parenting role and had found you in your most vulnerable state when you were struggling to pass your days in your trailer. She took you in and tried in her twisted way to help you, for a short period you felt like you had a family, she seemed genuinely nice. But a few months later, you ended up joining the dark force, how? You still were not sure, all you could remember was your mother's voice echoing in your mind as she puffed a shiny dust in your face, and you shaking hands with the Darkseid himself as he had that disgusting grin on his face. It was after that night that you found out that bitch had manipulated you into joining the bad guys, well who wouldn't want to have a version of Superman in their league that wasn't vulnerable to kryptonite? At first, you tried to pretend that you did want to hurt people just for the fun of it, in your mind, you were taking revenge on your father, who looked devastated whenever you had joint missions with your new teammates.

Well, you couldn't deny that the sheer rush of dopamine you felt was great, no rules were there to hold you back, just destroy and enjoy, the loot was lucrative as well. But, still, something in the back of your mind nagged and you couldn't overlook that you hated hurting vulnerable people and you couldn't do it anymore, so at a very crucial mission, you ended up killing all of your teammates before fleeing. You gave your mother a good beating up before you dropped her on the Arkham's doors and then vanished into an abandoned base until things became normal. After that your way of life became of an anti-hero, you didn't want to admit it but annoying the heroes was fun, at least you weren't killing vulnerable people. You did what they couldn't do, you fought without rules and the results were more drastic.

But you wanted to roast your father more, you wanted to make him burn, and what was better than exposing him? "As for Superman, he at least has killed more than 100 people in his missions, the government has already covered that up but I have the proof...flash has caused a climate change that ended up ruining agriculture of the whole world for a year, resulting in famines, Aquaman has sunk a few ships, that were NOT of military-related, killing civilians, also, Wonder woman has kidnapped a few people...and so on and so forth." You started warming up, mentioning more and more of what you knew.

The reporter took note as you spoke, and you were liking the role of the one exposing the hidden secrets of the heroes. You were actually enjoying it too much, so much in fact that your super-human sense didn't detect the flight of Superman and Superboy coming to your location at a bullet-like speed. And within seconds they both crashed into the warehouse Kool-Aid style, making a huge impact.

You were quick to react, using your laser eyes to attack Super Boy, but Conner was quick to dodge, Clark quickly pulled the reporter out of the range of the fight and out of sight, he let Bruc take care of the reporter and his evidence later, now he had you, his troubling child that was now entering dangerous waters. Conner and you fought, trashing the warehouse even further, you didn't know why but Conner's grin was getting on your nerves already.

The two supers had a plan of taking you down, and it was going pretty smoothly, going just as planned, you grew to angry and Conner used it to his advantage, pinning you down by a broken pillar, giving Clark enough time so he could throw the pollen towards you, damn it! How the hell they had gotten their hands on the special pollen that your mother had created just for controlling you?! You tried to not breathe, but the bitter taste of it already had formed in your mouth, making your mind go foggy. Damn it! Damn it!!!!!!

"We need to talk..." Clark's voice echoed in your mind, your vision was so distorted that you could only see the silhouette of your father approaching you "And we need to talk properly!" His voice made your heart skip...uh oh...Clark was serious.

[hxmocrastic]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 | HCS

Pairing ; {📖} Percy Jackson x GN!Reader

Warnings ; Yandere , Obsessive Thoughts, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Implied Stalking, OOC, Imminent Kidnapping, Predator/Prey Dynamic. ALL CHARACTERS 18+

A/N ; Sorry I've been gone for so long y'all 😭🙏🏾 I promise I'll be more active with my fics on here, Thank you all for so much love !! Enjoy!!

- I see Percy as a somewhat manipulative but possessive kind of yandere, He has all the strength and power to make you his but he chooses to befriend you.

- He's quick witted, spiteful, and fiercely loyal he would do anything to stay by your side and to keep you by his. In his eyes you are meant for each other whether you like it or not (not).

- You're a drug, driving him to insanity this dark obsession is killing him and will soon kill you.

- What we've seen him do for annabeth will be the bare minimum of what he'd do for his obsession.

- Yes, obsession. Percy has viewed you from a objectified lens for so long that his perception of you has twisted into l something sick.

- To him you're just something to keep, something to protect, and something to love.

- So much so, he's had thoughts of what it'd be like to just take you. Take everything OF you, from you, and toss this pathetic little waiting game In the trash.

- He's sure he would keep you hidden and protected from perverted eyes sullying what belongs to him. He'd keep you clean and pure from those disgusting demigods,

- But this is Percy we're talking about, he'd never even conceive of doing this to a fellow demigod. Except for the fact he already did, to you.

- Percy always has to reassure himself that these thoughts and feelings are just that, thoughts and feelings. Thankfully these are just thoughts right? They're okay if their just thoughts right? Just dirty sick thoughts that he knows are wrong, but can't help entertaining.

- though rest assured Percy is your friend, he's protective of all his friends ! He's just loyal that's why he's always at your side when you're practicing archery.

- Why he's always caught staring openly and vacantly at you whenever you even step one foot outside your cabin.

- Why he's always somehow accompanying you on any quest you receive.

- Why his touch always seems to linger whenever he manages to maintain physical contact with you.

- Listen to your head counselor, he's just being friendly! Percy's like this with everyone, you see. infact you should be lucky that he would even look at you so fondly.

- Maybe they're right, maybe you are going crazy. Maybe he's just being sweet. Maybe he just wants to be your friend.

[k-popanimeotomeandyanderes]

More len kagamine, please more Len

Part 1

•Len really struggles with his feelings towards you. He's so jealous, but he doesn't want to seem vulnerable. He's used to being the one pined after, not being hopelessly in love with someone else. He doesn't know how to express it, so he'll try to seem indifferent to you or sleep with other people to get his mind off it.

•When he's in a "relationship" with you, he'll only ever cheat when he knows you'll be aware of it. He'll bring people over and make sure you hear everything. He'll make it obvious when other people are texting him or trying to hook up with him. Depending on his mood and your reactions, he might punish you by making you watch him sleep with other people.

•If winning you over by trying to seem in demand doesn't work (which it probably won't), he'll stop eventually. Maybe he'll just play hard to get instead. He might try to ignore you for a little while, but it never works, especially if it doesn't seem to bother you.

•Instead, he'll try to force your affection. This isn't necessarily sexual, but it might be.

•He really likes sleeping next to you. He finds it comforting to wake up next to you and know you're there with him instead of someone else. He also likes cuddling with you and feeling your body against his.

•He prefers not tying you up when you sleep, but if you don't willingly sleep in the same bed, he will.

•He doesn't show it, but he's actually really hurt if you reject his affection, especially the more emotional and wholesome things. He does actually like you.

•After a while in the relationship, if you still don't accept his affection, he'll get more forceful. He doesn't like hurting you or punishing you, but he feels as if he has to. If he can't make you love him, the next best thing is to fear him.

•He doesn't like to leave scars. He loves your body and couldn't stand the idea of knowing he'd left a permanent mark on you like that.

•Since he doesn't want to do enough damage to scar, his physical punishments aren't as intense as some other yanderes. He tends to avoid actual weapons and embraces the more kinky side of punishments. Len really likes choking you and seeing you helpless beneath him.

•Another common punishment is degrading. Len might be in love with you, but he's very willing to say horrible things about you. He feels bad making you cry, but in his mind, it's worth it in the end. He'll also project and call you a slut or a whore, even when he's way more likely to cheat.

•He has a short temper when it comes to you. You make him really emotional, and all his inner turmoil builds up. He'll snap at you or yell at you a lot. He tries to be calculated, but because of all his emotions, he ends up being more impulsive.

•Len feels bad after his outbursts or punishments, especially when you're hurt or if you cry. He'll be affectionate and caring after. He'll cuddle you and kiss the places he hurt you. He'll praise you if he degraded you or made you feel insecure. For some time, until you do something to upset him again, he'll be really sweet that you almost forget how awful he was before.

•Len is one of the more lucid yanderes. He knows what he's doing is wrong, and he does feel guilty about it, even though he tries hard to hide that from you and himself. He won't keep you tied up forever, and he's not going to isolate you from everyone. Ideally, he'll make your relationship seem normal. He wants you to genuinely fall for him someday. If that happens, or if you at least stop trying to escape from him, you'll go on dates and do pretty normal couple things. Eventually, you might be able to live a decent life with Len compared to some other yanderes.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Dear Brother

Kinktober Day 14: Incest Yandere brother x male reader CW: Incest, noncon, memory alteration, mind manipulation, possessive yandere, protective yandere, general yandere behavior, versatile reader, anal sex, drugging, sedatives, aphrodisiacs, collaring, murder, Stockholm syndrome, major character death, reader's own cum as lube, masturbation, discrimination against those without powers, dead dove: DO NOT EAT Word Count: 3.8k (This is dark. Sorry for any errors, I did not have it betaread. I hope there are some who will enjoy this.)

The meteor that crashed to the ground generations ago came with it a particularly invasive pathogen. A virus that infected all of humanity, changing the DNA of everyone on Earth, though a large portion of people remained asymptomatic with recessive changes.

Those with symptoms displayed mutations. They varied wildly from animal traits, elemental powers, enhanced strength, super speed, extra limbs, and many others.

Over many years, the DNA that the virus altered became increasingly prominent as mutations were inherited and compounded. Asymptomatics were rarer and rarer. Currently, they made up only 15 percent of the population.

A small portion of people used their extra human abilities for evil, and others became government sanctioned heroes to fight them.

The people who had mutations become highly sought after and fetishized. More laws came into effect to protect them from villains and criminals who would traffic them.

You were a mutationless nobody living in this society.

A brand new law had established a curfew for all people without strong enough mutations. They couldn't go out unless someone with a strong ability was with them.

Another law was that those with no abilities couldn't live alone.

Because of this, you became wholly dependent on your older brother, Drew.

Your older sibling was entirely fine with this arrangement. He had a love for you that wasn't entirely brotherly, though you didn't suspect anything. It seemed to you that his overprotective behavior was the product of being an older brother to someone without a mutation in a world that conditioned people to think of those like you as defenseless. You thought yourself fairly lucky. You weren't forced into an abusive or restrictive marriage or roommate situation because you had Drew. He was always happy to chaperone and escort you.

When he wasn't too busy with his work as a hero. Drew had moved the two of you to a small town due to a lower crime rate and desire to keep you safe and spend as much time with you as possible. It was also to isolate you from any potential suitors. But... you didn't really need to know about that... You had gotten too chummy with people online through various social media and dating websites who lived a bit too close for comfort in the large city you had lived in previously. It was getting burdensome finding them, intimidating them, burying more than one body when they wouldn't get the hint that you were spoken for. That had been rare, though.

If he really needed to, he could use a power no one knew he possessed. He could remove and replace memories. It was a tedious task, requiring a lot of time and energy, and not all minds were susceptible. Even if they were, it couldn't normally be used multiple times on the same person. Which is why he couldn't just make you forget or hate them. Luckily, most people were easily intimidated by Drew. He was tall and muscular, which was enough in some cases, but he also could move things with his mind and produce a psychic barrier around his skin to make him indestructible.

The quieter smaller town was kinda nice, but you were rather bored. Especially when Drew had to do his patrols. He made sure he worked more in the early morning and afternoon since you always liked to be up at night playing video games and going for walks at night with him. Sometimes, he'd take you out to eat at a 24/7 diner that the town had.

He thought of those outings as dates and considered himself to be courting his defenseless brother.

Your brother always ordered ice cream for you to share. Drew loved to watch you eat it, sometimes biting his lip as you so lewdly licked the cold confection from your spoon. It made his cock twitch in his pants. How he wished you were licking his manhood like that. Eager to get every drop of his cum.

The last time you were at the diner you had caught him staring at you with an odd expression.

"What's with that weird face?"

"Oh, uh... I just had a brain freeze."

You had chuckled at him and went back to eating. How he longed for the day when he could tell you how he really loved you. Hopefully it would be soon, but he just didn't know how to broach the topic.

He had let you walk in on him wanking a few times. But all it achieved was you turning red and scrambling out of the room with an immediate apology followed by you pretending that nothing had occurred. Nothing like the pornos.

The other day, you had been comfortable enough to fall asleep on the couch as the two of you watched a movie. He had been admiring your peacefully sleeping form when you slouched over and leaned on his shoulder. He could hear your breathing and felt your drool as it ran down his arm.

It gave him an instant hard-on that he had to address. You had been a busy bee and cleaned the whole house earlier before cooking dinner. You were totally wiped out. Though even on an easy day, you were known for sleeping deeply. Drew carefully shifted the shorts he had been wearing so his large cock was sticking out through the leg and cautiously jerked himself off while imaging you cuddling and clinging to him after a long day.

He had cum so hard that a bit had landed on your lips. He was worried you would wake up, but you remained out like a light as he gently massaged it into your lip like lip gloss.

After that, he had "accidentally" fallen asleep right beside you. He couldn't very well wake a sleeping angel by moving.

That had been well over a month ago, and his desire for you had only grown. He had taken to stealing your underwear and keeping a pair under his pillows so he could sniff them before bed and dream about you.

He knew one day soon he'd have you in every way.

But there was a setback.

His schedule had shifted temporarily while he was on an assignment to help take down a super villain coalition. For two weeks, he was barely home at all, and a vermin had slipped in.

He came home one day to find you on the porch chatting with some piece of absolute filth who kept brushing his hand against yours.

When he left and you came back inside, Drew was holding back serious rage. You had a look on your face that told him all you needed to know. He didn't even have to question you about who it was. You just kept gushing about him.

"That was Len! He's such a sweetie! He saw me on the porch a few days ago when he was walking by and noticed I was glum."

The way you swooned and gushed made Drew's stomach lurch.

"He's so cool! I'm sure you'll like him. He isn't a hero, but his mutation is awesome. He can spontaneously make fire."

Drew noticed you twiddling your fingers in the way you only did when you were brimming with joy. Would that piece of trash know details like that about you!?

Your brother immediately began planning for Len's demise. This was beyond intimidation, threats, and memory alteration. He lived far too close and touched your perfect weak hands with his disgusting grubby ones. Drew knew exactly how he'd do it. He'd infiltrate Len's home and use his telekinetic abilities to cause him to have a stroke. Then he'd burn the house down. It wasn't unheard of for people's mutations to run out of control.

On the night that Drew planned to end Len, you had been texting Len. Even though it was late, he had invited you over because he was playing a new game that he thought you might enjoy together. If you wanted, he'd leave the door unlocked so you could come in. He knew knocking and waiting made you anxious.

He was such a good listener. He would have come over and walked with you, but it was such a short walk, and you didn't want to wake up Drew. Besides, his house was just a few down from yours. If you ran, you could be there in under a minute. And, honestly, no one took these curfew laws seriously in small towns.

You rushed over as fast as you could and nervously opened the door and stepped inside.

"Dr-Drew? What are you-?"

The question was left unfinished as your gaze lowered to Len laying motionless at your brother's feet. Drew's eyes went wide, and his mouth agape when he noticed you. He obviously had not expected you to walk in on his activities. This was just like when you had just turned 20 and you had caught him killing your parents because they had wanted to convince you to go to an isolated island for the mutationless because they wanted you to feel normal.

He had wiped the events from your brain, made you think they had abandoned you both long ago, and finished by making you think he was the older brother so you'd accept him taking care of you a bit more easily when in reality he was a year younger.

But unlike last time, he couldn't erase Len or what you had witnessed. After doing it once, and so extensively, you were inoculated from it.

Your mind was reeling, struggling to piece together an explanation for what you were seeing. You took a few steps back, planning to just run away and hope you woke up from whatever awful nightmare this night was shaping into. But the door slammed shut before you could finish turning around.

"Y-you have to understand! He was going to steal you away... He didn't deserve you. No one does! Except me."

Drew used his abilities to make you slowly float towards him. The look on his face could only be described as deranged.

"I'm so sorry you had to see this. It was supposed to look like an accident..."

You squirmed in his psychic hold as you began sobbing. Your brain finally registered that your brother killed the man you had started to fall in love with. Nothing made sense.

Once his power brought you to him, he wrapped one arm around you tightly and used his free hand to pull a tiny spray capsule up to your face from his utility belt.

He spritzed you just once, and within a few seconds, you were fast asleep. With you taken care of for the moment, Drew could safely get back to the business at hand.

Your subconscious mind must have still been in denial because you found yourself in a dream pounding Len's muscular ass. He was riding you, and you found yourself bucking into his tight hot hole. In reality, your brother had been watching you sleep and decided to rub your crotch. He figured you needed the stress relief, and if you woke up, maybe the pleasure would prove he was just trying to make you happy.

It made sense in his warped mind.

He was originally just going to jerk you off, but when you got fully hard under his touch... he couldn't resist the urge to ride on it. Drew lubed it up and sank himself down on it. This was perfect, he thought. Your first official act as lovers. It would definitely make you forget about that sack of garbage he just took out.

The look on your face as you drooled in your sleep and let out little lewd gasps went straight to his dick and had him cumming in no time. He briefly lifted off of your cock long enough to smear his semen on it before lowering himself again.

You were fucking his cum into him and it would be mixed with your own once you climaxed. The thought made his stomach flutter as blush crept across his face.

Drew knew you were close, your moans had gotten louder and you had started bucking your hips into him. He was amazed you hadn't woken up yet. Though you had always been a deep sleeper and the stuff he sprayed you with was pretty heavy duty. Your eyes fluttered open as you shot your load inside him and moaned out the name Len.

L e n.

It was exactly the wrong thing to say. Your brother, who had never raised a hand to you, slapped you hard across the face.

"That loser is DEAD!! Len is a fucking corpse smoldering in the ashes of his house!"

You were shaking as you stared up at him, still confused about what was going on. Your brain was full of fog and struggled to piece together the events that transpired last night and the fact that your brother was on your dick and angrily yelling in your face.

When he realized the fear in your eyes, he got off of you and pulled you close.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know it's not your fault. You're so innocent, and he wormed his way into your mind like the greedy parasite he was."

He kissed your cheek gently where he had struck you.

"Just... try not to say his name, okay? You gotta forget about him. It isn't healthy to linger on toxic people like that."

He got up and made his way to the bathroom connected to his room.

"I bet a bath will make us both feel a little more relaxed."

You were pretty sure that you would never be relaxed again for the rest of your life. Your brother was a villain and you had no idea what he was capable of doing to you. The sibling you had depended on killed Len, forced himself on you while you were sleeping, and slapped you.

Since he was busy making a bath, you thought you'd take the chance to leave. You pulled up your pants and crept past the bedroom door and down the stairs. When you reached the bottom, you stared in dismay at the blockade he had put in front of the door. There was no other choice but to turn around. But as you did so you slammed right into the chest of your sibling, who was staring down at you darkly.

"I just came downstairs for a sn-snack."

You were trembling and hoped he bought it. You knew he had when his face softened.

"Oh, well after our bath I'll make us a late night snack."

He grabbed you by the hand and led you back upstairs.

"This will be our first bath together! I'm really excited."

The last thing you wanted to do was to bathe with this monster. But there was no escaping it.

"Haha I guess I'm excited in more than one way!"

You glanced over and saw what he meant. His cock was fully erect.

"I-I'm too shy to bathe together!"

"Don't be silly! We're lovers now and we both really need this."

He picked you up like you weighed nothing and took you into the tub with him. He sat down and positioned you on his lap facing towards him. His erection jabbed at you from below. It made you cringe and curl in on yourself.

Despite the bubbles and warm water, you had never felt so filthy.

"You're still so tense, but big bro will make everything better~"

He groped and massaged your ass before starting to rub your hole. You flinched.

"You have to relax to make this easier."

Eventually, he pressed a finger into you.

"Please sto-"

You were cut off by involuntarily moaning as he hit a special spot inside you.

"Oh, you liked that, didn't you? Made you sound so needy~"

As he kept attending to that place inside you, working his way up to three fingers, your mind got more clouded and distracted, and your body went limp and relaxed.

"Sto-ahhh AAAHHHH!!"

Your hole clenched tightly as you spilled your load on his chest.

Before you could catch your breath he slowly replaced his fingers with his cock. Careful not to hurt you as he slowly eased you down on his entire length.

You were already hard again despite being so sensitive. His hard cock entered you with a bit of pain despite the previous stretching.

For Drew, it was bliss. Heaven. His cock was wrapped in the warm paradise that was his beloved brother. Finally, he was with you in the way his heart yearned to be. He should have just done this the second the two of you had moved out here.

The slight bit of pain you had initially felt faded at the feeling of him battering your insides. His tip perfectly kissed that spot inside you, your resolve being fucked away with each thrust.

Drew moaned your name as he came in you all too soon.

"My cum is in you. My cum is in you. My cum is in you. Mycumisinyou."

He never lost his hard on and kept right on making love to you, his precious brother, without stopping for a second. As his movements intensified, the lavender scented water splashed against the two of you.

"I-I knew I could make it all better!"

You prattled on incoherently as drool pooled from the corner of your mouth.

"You're right. We should let our actions do the talking"

Drews lips dominated yours as he kissed you deeply, nibbling on your lower lip and licking up your drool as he made out with you. As both of you came once more, he slid his tongue into your mouth and rubbed it against yours.

He pulled away and kissed your forehead. Your brain was foggy, and your body was exhausted after all you had been made to endure.

"I guess I should clean us up before the water goes completely cold. Don't worry, we can do that some more after we've rested up, okay?"

You muttered something, but you didn't know what you were saying or even what you were responding to.

That didn't stop Drew from hearing whatever he wanted to though.

"Yeah, we can still make out in bed before we fall asleep!"

Drew cleaned you off then sat you down on his bed after dressing you. Then he ran downstairs and came back up with some cookies.

"You wanted a snack right?"

You nodded sheepishly and nibbled a few to maintain the lie you told earlier. When you finished you went to brush your teeth before bed.

You couldn't look at yourself in the mirror. You were ashamed you had let your brother violate you in such a manner. You were ashamed you were brushing your teeth like it was a normal night. Maybe you could escape or call for help when he was working. It was already early in the morning. His schedule had returned to normal, and he would be back to work in a few hours. You just had to play along and get into bed with him...

The trembling of your body didn't betray your fear, Drew just assumed you were cold and held you protectively under the blankets. He stroked your side gently. It would have been comforting before you knew he was a murderer. Now, it only made you tense. Though you did manage to grab a few moments of uneasy rest.

Upon waking, you realized you were oddly calm. Tranquil. When you had finally fallen asleep, he had sprayed you with another substance from his utility belt.

This time, it was just something heroes used to calm people down. Villains and sometimes people in shock. It was pretty harmless, so if he had to keep you mildly sedated with it, he could. Though he hoped he could adjust you to your new circumstances with it and then eventually wean you off. It made you a little calmer, happier, and more accepting of your situation.

You also found yourself collared. The inside was a soft fabric and the outside a rough material. It was locked to a long chain that was mounted to the wall. You could reach the restroom and the minifridge he had by his bed. A minifridge stocked with all your favorite snacks and cold meals, a mounted chain, a custom collar in your favorite color... How long had he planned for this possibility?

There was definitely anger and grief, but they felt much more muted than they should have been.

The first year or so as your brother's boyfriend was a bit messy. Despite the calming drug, you still had emotional outbursts and anxiety. But your brother understood. He wasn't going to abandon you just because you were a bit moody or said hurtful things sometimes.

He endured and the two of you got through. It didn't hurt that he had stockpiled illegal aphrodisiacs confiscated from human traffickers. They made a target especially horny for the first person who's DNA they were exposed to. Whenever he used it, you were hard and needy to the point of crying, and only his dick could make it any better.

It was a great breakthrough when your body finally got hard from his touch without the help of any drugs at all.

And then you started kissing him and leaning on your big strong brother whenever you got lonely from your isolation. He was the only person you were allowed to have any contact with, and the craving for touch became too unbearable.

Your broken mind slowly justified it and changed your perspective on how you saw Drew. The only other option was going insane.

He was just looking out for you and keeping you safe from evil people. It was all for your own good. He took care of all of your needs. Cuddled you, kept you safe, provided you with games and food, and he was always happy to give you his cock or hole whenever you needed it, even when he was tired from work. If you had trouble sleeping, he'd even gently slip his dick into you and rock you to sleep with the thrusts.

It had, at long last, gotten to the point where he could take you outside on dates again with no fear at all that you'd try to escape him. In fact, you'd cling to his arm for dear life no matter where you went.

Drew was so happy. Now everyone could see that you two were the perfect couple.

[jonathansthickthighs]

My Sweetest Heart 2: Yandere! Fushiguro Toji x Reader

Description: You have a one night stand with Toji and now he won’t leave you alone.

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

Part 4 here

Part 5 here

Trigger Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, female reader, AFAB reader, toxic behavior, stalking, desperate toji, no smut this chapter, implied smut, alternative universe (no curses), age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, toji is in his mid 30’s)

A/N: im so overwhelmed by the amount of notes on my first post, tysm :’). This is a soft, slow chapter. Steamy smut next chapter 🥵

Not edited!

It had been a week.

Disconsolateness spread through Toji’s chest like a wildfire, the wretched feeling not leaving his soul since that damned night. But was it really damned? Toji dreamt of that night from the moment he set his gaze on you, but why. Why did you have to behave like he was nothing to you? He was certain no man would ever make you experience the ecstasy he made you feel, the pleasurable sensations you felt only he could provide. Yet, you haven’t answered a single one of his texts. The extraneous feelings were clouding his mind, making his thinking unclear.

The things you do to him.

If you could squeeze your way into Toji’s mind, you would be able to see the profoundness of his love for you, but he wasn’t sure how long he could let you explore his mind before you fell into an deep abysm of pure darkness. He would never allow that darkness to collide with the love he held for you. He would never in his life time hurt you in any way, nevertheless he would not hesitate to hurt —kill— any man who did as much as lay his eyes on you. You were his one and only treasure and he was never one for sharing.

Would it seem too desperate to call you? He already refrained himself from texting you more than twice a day, but the way you were ignoring him was making the hole his chest feel larger with each painful minute that passed from the lack of notice from you. He spent the last seven days watching you from afar, which was nothing new to him, but he felt the progress he made with you had dissipated. Why did you have to behave like he was nothing to you?

You were right across the street from him.

You were at a local café, sipping on some iced coffee. He knew you lied to him when you told him you didn’t drink coffee; he had watched you enter and leave the place countless times. Thus it was another reason why he felt hurt by you. He was aware of how despicable he was, nevertheless that’s not how he wanted you to perceive him. That’s why when you started making all those excuses, he felt like you were seeing right through him, like you could see how bad of a person he truly was. In the labyrinth of his soul, he felt an inexorable need to reshape your gaze upon him, the same way he would mold clay under the weight of his hefty fingers. Even if the whole world saw him as scum, he harbored a silent hope to be seen through a lens untainted by judgment by you.

Each beat of his heart was chanting a plea for you to fill the void within. He wanted to demonstrate he had a vulnerable tenderness reserved only for you.

He observed you chatting vigorously with your friends —the same ones from that night. He wondered if you told them about him. Would you go into detail about everything he did to you? Would you start getting flashbacks from all the things he did to you? He could envision the supple flesh of your thighs rubbing together, feeling your underwear dampen from the memories of him mounting you, making you squirm under him. Toji felt himself harden in his pants at the picture of you getting all hot and bothered because of him. A recollection of memories of your enchanting body flooded his mind each passing day, his groin aching with a ceaseless desire to be engulfed by your tight, warm cavern once more. He needed you more than he ever needed anything in his entire miserable life.

He decided the only way he could reclaim your attention was in the flesh, so before he could form another thought about it, his large figure plotted his course toward the café with gumption.

He strode into the aesthetically pleasing looking place, with practiced nonchalance, feigning ignorance of your presence as he made his way to the counter to order some simple black coffee. Once he paid for the overpriced coffee, he turned straight to the table you and your friends were occupying. You were laughing beautifully at something silly your friend had said and in an instant, you locked eyes with Toji.

A smirk tugged the corners of his scarred lips. He could tell you were experiencing a sense of inner turmoil running through you. Your friends noticed your shift in mood, their gazes pivoting towards the source of your abrupt change in demeanor. When they noticed what you were looking, they started giggling teasingly questioning if that was “the hottie you banged the other night” quite loudly. It was safe to say your friend weren’t ones for being subtle.

On the other hand, Toji’s chest swelled with pride upon learning that you did, in fact, tell, your friends about him. He was starting to believe that approaching you in the presence of your friends had been a nothing short of brilliant. He was well aware of his talents and it was abundantly clear that the most conspicuous one was his charm with women. He was going to win over your friends so they could influence you into giving him a chance, knowing all too well the powerful sway that a woman’s friends held over her decisions —especially when it comes to men. He was going to use your friends to his advantage with unyielding determination.

Toji could see you visibly tense up as he made his way to your table.

As soon as he was standing in front of you, your named rolled out of his mouth almost seductively, the smirk never leaving his perfectly sculpted face. “I hope I’m not intruding, wasn’t expecting running into ya here. It’s so great to see you!” He exclaimed without forgetting to greet your friends, forging politeness. He couldn’t give two fucks about your friends, but in order to execute his plan it had to be done.

Your lips curved upwards, a hesitant smile forming on your face. “Toji, wow! It’s good to see you too.” You rose from your seat awkwardly extending your arms in a friendly embrace. He instantly enfolded you into the embrace of his strong arms, not denying himself from indulging himself to the irresistible urge to inhale the delicious scent of your hair. Gods, if only he could live in your embrace forever. You were wearing a yellow summer dress that hugged your frame exquisitely. Holding you so close, taking in your scent, plus this little piece you were wearing had him almost coming in his pants. To make things even better for his perverted self, he was certain, by looking at your cheeks flushing with a deep hue of scarlet, that you had felt his hard on press against you while you were being embosomed by him.

Your friends gaze bore into at you expectantly as you jumped momentarily forgetting their presence. With a quick apologetic smile you hastened to introduced them. “Oh! Toji, these are my friends.” You told Toji each of their names and he nodded attentively, inwardly acknowledging that he was going to forget their names instantly. “It’s a pleasure. With all due respect, I have to say this has to be the most good looking friend group I’ve seen, quite frankly.” He playfully danced on the edge of flirtation, his words laced with a charm that clouded the insincerity of his words. And of course, your friends giggled gullibly, already smitten by the Adonis standing in front of them.

“No wonder miss ma’am here went for you. Not only are you a sight for sore eyes, you’re also good with your mouth!” Your friend teased, the rest of them agreeing with her making your cheeks deepen into a brighter shade of crimson, the flush of embarrassment spreading like fire across your delicate face. Toji knew what you were thinking. You knew exactly how good he was with his mouth, having experienced the onslaught of his fierce tongue in your cunt.

“Ah, you girls flatter me. And trust me, your pretty friend here is well aware of what this mouth is capable of.” He joked, eliciting peals of laughter from your friends.

“Girl, he got a sense of humor too? Why haven’t you married him yet?” Your other friend chimed in. In response, you laughed with a hint of discomfort, failing to understand how your friends couldn’t feel the tense atmosphere that surrounded you. You had recounted to your friends how he had been texting you nonstop for the past week, collectively agreeing to label him as nothing short of a creep. Yet, as they now met him face to face their skepticism suddenly melts away and they transform into Toji advocates? You didn’t understand. “Why don’t you sit with us, Toji? Let us get to know you a little!”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Toji chuckled, planting himself in the chair right next to yours, a little too close for your liking. He turned to you, a wide grin lighting up his features, meanwhile you settled into your seat with a frozen expression, like that of a deer in headlights. The morning after your night with him lingered in your mind, haunted by the memory of his hand grabbing your hair. Though he didn’t harm you, a sense of unease lingered, leaving you unable to shake the feeling of dread. You thought you’d never see him again, so running into him here took you by surprise.

As your other friends interrogated Toji, your best friend seized your arm, pulling you aside so she could talk to you closely. “Oh my God! You never mentioned how nice he is! Why have you been ignoring him this whole time, you bitch!” She voice came out in a furious whisper.

“I’ve told you before, I’m not looking to get into relationship at the moment and he’s so persistent. I just don’t want to lead him on.” You replied feeling annoyed at her abrupt change in demeanor. “The best men always come when you least expect them. I think you should give him a chance! Just go on one date with him and see how it goes from there on.” She insisted, her tone pleading. You were starting to feel guilty for avoiding him. Could your best friend be onto something? One date wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“Fine, but only one.”

Your best friend erupted in excitement at your agreement and sprung from her seat.

“Well girls, remember that thing we had to do? We gotta dash.” Confusion clouded the faces of your friends, prompting your best friend to shoot signals with her expressions, discreetly urging them to leave you alone with Toji. “W-wait, wha—“ Stammering in puzzlement, you attempted to grasp the situation. Your friends caught onto the unspoken cue and swiftly began gathering their belongings preparing to leave you two alone.

“Yeah, that’s right. We have plans… without you.” One of them giggled teasingly as they hurried out of the café.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

You couldn’t believe the scene unfolding before you. You made eye contact with Toji and he chuckled at your bewildered expression. “Quite the friends you’ve got.” He remarked casually, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking from excitement at being alone with you at last. He was fighting hard to conceal the thrill that vibrated beneath his skin.

You let out nervous laugh in agreement and joked, “Right. Making plans without me all the sudden.”

An awkward silence settled between you for a moment before you decided to break it, “Toji, about the texts—“

Toji interjected quickly, “Oh, don’t worry about that, sweetheart. I understand if things have been hectic lately. I’m just glad you’re okay. No pressure at all. Although, I do hope we can talk once in a while, I would like to get to know you more.” Toji mastered the art of concealing the ache of your week long indifference, cloaking his wounded heart with a facade of nonchalance. Determined to shield you from the depths of his longing, he masked his feelings, refusing to unveil his yearning for your attention.

You smiled genuinely at him for the first time since he got here. “I wouldn’t mind that at all. But, I would like to clarify that I’m not looking for a relationship right now. If we could keep things casual, I would really appreciate it.”

Toji felt a twitch in his eye; you were going to make things difficult for him. “I get it, sweetheart. No compromise.” For now.

You grinned at his acceptance and suggested, “You mentioned a mean ramen place in your texts. How about we go there now?” The realization that you were asking him on a date sent a wave of anticipation through him. Getting to talk and share his time with you again was the only thing he had been looking forward to the whole week. He let his gaze linger on your soft features, you were undeniably beautiful. He was determined to make your heart his, he knew he had to step up his game.

“I would love to, sweetheart.” Toji replied eagerly, excitement coursing through his veins. Temptingly, he added, “We could also go watch a movie at my place afterward, if you’re up for it.” You squeezed your thighs together, considering the myriad possibilities that could unfold once you two were alone at his place.

“Sure.”

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (10)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

You need to start planning an escape.

Reader is Gender Neutral!

It wasn't the most flattering picture of you they decided to use. At least you could find some humour in that fact.

"...Why are you just staring at 'the television'?" Sandrone raised an eyebrow, looking distraught.

"Oh, hey, you're on there!" Childe pointed out. "You famous?"

"Something like that..." You mumbled in return, trying to hide the smug smile on your face.

This is perfect. They couldn't read the roman alphabet! Not only can you use this against them to plan an escape, but you can also insult them later for it!

Illiterate bitches You snickered to yourself.

"Yesterday afternoon, a local fast food restaurant in '_____ ___ _______' was attacked by an unknown group. Police officers found in the area of the crime were frozen solid in strong ice, scientists all across the country have come to try and understand how such a phenomenon could happen."

The screen changed to the fast food restaurant you were taken from yesterday, to a hospital ward with remnants of ice all over the floor. The camera panned upwards to a man laying on one of the hospital beds. His face looked awful, like he'd been revived from the dead. His nose red and lips blue, he was shivering as nurses rushed to get heatpacks for him.

"When the first officer was thawed, he had no memories after he'd been turned to ice. From what our journalist's gathered from him, the group whom attacked the restaurant kidnapped a civilian inside the facility, killing all who remained inside and allowing children to run away from the scene."

The screen then cut to a zoomed in clip of him sitting up, visibly in a better condition than before.

"Could you tell us what happened?" A cameraman from behind the screen asked him, the police officer looking directly into the lens of the device.

"It was... traumatising." He answered in a low tone. "I had ran from the station after being called to an emergency downtown. Something about an answer to a 999 call expressing worries of there being a hostage. My co-workers ran out of the police car first, and shouted from outside the building."

"And?" The cameraman pushed him, noticing the officer's hesitation.

The officer sighed, his breath shaky, then continued.

"A woman calmy walked outside, at least I think it was a woman. I remember my friends shouting for 'a lady' to stop walking towards them and put her hands in the air. Last thing I remember is seeing something blue and shiny heading right for my co-workers and the police car I was in."

"Bah!" The cameraman laughed out loud. "You're saying she was the one who almost froze you to death? Don't be ridiculous, unless you dreamt Elsa." He mocked.

"But, that's what happened!" The police officer shouted at him, the footage of the hospital suddenly going black.

"The Police Station checked all officer's body cameras. However, from the external ice interference, all footage was damaged and therefore unable to be investigated."

Another picture of you, different from the first one displayed earlier, transitioned next to the lady reading from her script. Her face showed one of concern.

"The missing person is Mx Y/N L/N, a college student who was kidnapped at the location. They were the one whom called 999 and first alerted authorities to the situation inside the building. Our heart goes out to them, in hopes of them being safe." She said sympathetically. Her face soon changed to an interested one, forgetting about all the death's in the first place.

"Just who could this group and 'lady' be? Where did they get the power to turn others into ice? Perhaps the lady is their leader! Let's hope an update on the situation comes soon. To find out more, go to our websi--"

You turned the television off with a disgusted expression on your face.

Fake. Arse. Bitch.

"Her??? 'The Leader'? Fuck that shit." Childe scoffed, arms crossed with a glare sent towards the woman.

"Enough, Childe." Signora scoffed back, rolling her eyes at the child clearly fuming.

"So, everyone knows you've gone missing?" The Regrator whistled, fiddling with a mora coin and sitting on the only armchair which hadn't been torn to pieces.

Ugh, you forgot they could still understand the English language.

"Yup." You sighed.

"Even though I already know the answer," Scaramouche huffed. "Do you have friends who could have seen that and immediately thought to check up on you at your house?"

Oh yeah, if only you had friends who actually cared about you! Then, maybe someone would come looking for you. Also, was Scaramouche implying you had no friends!?

For his information, you knew plenty of people and had a lot of 'friends'! ... Unfortunately, you don't think they care enough to drop by your house.

"Pshh!" You shoved his shoulder lightly, slightly hurt. The puppet scowled and rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. They just... aren't available right now." You lied with a shrug.

Scaramouche simply stared back at you. "Uh-huh, I believe you." He shook his head, walking away.

"Hey, don't walk away from me. You need to- HEY, THAT DOESN'T MEAN EVERYONE ELSE CAN TOO! CLEAN THIS GOD DAMN MESS YOU LOT MADE OR I SWEAR TO-"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Everyone walked off to do their own thing around the house after that... cleaning session. You spied on what the harbingers were doing, a notepad in your hands with scribbled writing full of potential ideas to get away from the house.

You'd crossed out many plans:

Use phone, call someone?

Definitely not, you'd be heard and questioned by the harbingers then lose your phone to their control. There's no doubt in your mind Pierro would let Sandrone and Dottore get their hands on it.

Run out house, when everyone is sleeping?

Wouldn't work. They said it themselves, some of them don't sleep. Plus, most of them probably have supersonic hearing.

Suggest to go out together then secretly pass someone a note?

Too dangerous. The harbingers would quickly catch on to what you were planning, and would potentially kill the person whom you asked for help.

Ugh! This is terrible. Your dumb brain has thought of every possible way to escape, and they all end up in failure! They're too risky, the phone one is the most ideal but you'd never risk your phone being taken away too early! It could be detrimental later down the line.

"Decider. If I may have your attention," The old sounding voice of Pulcinella coughed from in front of you. "I would like to ask a question."

"A question? I mean, it's not like I can stop you from asking it." You hid your notepad from his view.

You didn't want to make the harbingers suspicious. Even if they couldn't read what you were writing.

"Insolent child." Pulcinella sighed to himself, shaking his head. "What exactly do you plan to do about the food?"

"Huh? Whaddya mean 'the food'?"

"Whilst your meal from last night was delicious, I noticed from how it tasted it isn't the... healthiest option. Feeding 12 people, including yourself, is quite a task so I understand why you prepared something like it. But, aren't you worried about eventually running out?" He scratched his mustache, sitting on the sofa next to you.

"You're right." You sighed back to him with a nod. "I'll need to go shopping soon to get more food for everyone. But if I start doing that, I'll eventually run out of money."

"The Regrator can lend you some Mora---"

"Fuck that." You scoffed. "First of all, I know just how harsh the Fatui are with debt. Second of all, Mora isn't even the currency used here."

"You mean to say The Regrator is worth nothing in this world?" The old man's face grew amused.

"I mean, he wasn't worth anything to begin with..." You grumbled, trying to be as quiet as possible. "Anyway, I'll need to go to the cornershop and grab us some food."

"You won't be going anywhere." Pierro walked into the room, a small yawn erupting from his lips.

"Welcome back from my office." You glared slightly, Pierro glaring in return.

Well, technically it's not your office. Buuuut, your father did always joke how it would be yours when he dies... so yeah, it's yours now.

"I see no reason why it must belong to you when you are so concerned of your bedroom." He put a piece of paper in front of you.

"What does this say?" He dropped the paper on your lap, you giving him an eye roll before taking a closer look.

It seemed to be a... private file addressed to your dad. Something about house bills being paid at a certain date. Wow, that's not interesting at all.

"Don't you know privacy is the only thing I have left now?" You scoffed, pushing the paper away from you.

"Now, Now...." Pulcinella scolded you, his walking stick digging into your foot. "Treat The Jester politely."

"Fine. I don't want to read it to you since they're my father's personal affairs, got it?" You winced, sighing in relief when feeling the pressure on your foot fade.

"Understandable." Pierros sighed to himself. "It looked important, with this script being written in thicker ink."

I could have sworn Teyvat has made something equivalent to a printing press... How else would 'The Legend of the Sword' have gotten so popular? You thought, scratching your cheek with a confused face.

Well, Pierro was right either way. What he didn't know, was the bold text he deemed important was just the money paid, and the next date due.

Not like the house bills mattered anymore, you were assumed missing and the house is probably not going to be visited for at least a year due to the janky government.

Besides, you were missing, not dead. According to the law, you have seven years until you need to worry about the police barging down the door. You probably won't live that long, so yay for legalities sake!

"Well, it would have been important for my mother and father before you ripped their carcass' in half. Now it's meaningless, ...for the next seven years or whatever." You gave a sassy reply, handing the paper back to him.

"Could you put it back where you found it? You'll probably not let me back in the office."

"Very well." He took the paper from you, leaving the room without another word.

"You, Mx Decider, need to work on your manners." Pulcinella gave you a side-eye.

"I have manners, but I won't give them to people who killed at least 30 people because they couldn't 'find the person they were looking for'. And then proceeded to kidnap them and--"

"I am getting tired of your blathering." He cut you off, a vein very clear on his head.

"One would say you act worse than Tonia back in Snezhnaya, but that would be a compliment. The situation is over and done now, I don't think you realise how much trouble you're actually in at this moment."

"Well, old man, everyone has a different coping method for traumatic situations. It just so happens that one of mine is joking and yapping on and on and on--"

"Understood. Just, shut up for the sake of my headache." He rubbed his head with his fingers, effectively shushing you.

"Must you have an answer for everything?"

Ahh, being annoying truly has its perks no matter who you annoy. From a scolding mother, to a bloodthirsty harbinger.

Anyway, you have an idea. You may look like an idiot trying, but you have evidence it could work.

All the Harbingers called you 'The Decider', meaning they recognised you before you even met them. This must mean they were aware of your existence before they left the game and entered your world.

Arlecchino in particular, she commented on Aether's existence being involved with your title. This means you're tied to him in some way. Perhaps.. If you were to log in to Genshin again you could ask him what in the fuck was going on.

You're not the smartest person, but this seems like the most obvious choice right now. You wish you could say the same for it being the easiest choice.

You hadn't logged into Genshin since you were forcefully taken out of the bathroom's in the restaurant. Were you really ready to go back to Genshin? The game which started all of this?

This is definitely not two (technically three) weeks late or anything... ahahah....

I, 100%, purposefully uploaded this on Valentine's Day.

Yup.

Anyway, I'm very unsatisfied with this. But I really wanted to post it. I'll try to make the next one as long as possible since I'd like to personally not make too many views...

One day, I'll most likely combine some shorter ones into one whole view if that makes sense :3 (I think I've mentioned this before...)

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt @the-lazy-perfectionist @florelll

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[electric-blorbos]

Selfshiptober day 2: Blanket/flame

Character X reader

I swear to god its still October second somewhere... I hope.

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Notice to anyone who found me through the selfshiptober tag, while this blog is themed around AI characters, this blog does not support the use of actual AI in creative fields.

Warning for canon-typical homicidal computers and yandere behavior

Also a reminder that these don't take place in chronological order

AM:

"Beautiful, isn't it?" AM asked, his croaky voice sounding like it was somehow both in your head, and all around you. You were wrapped up in a cozy blanket in your little home, which AM had made for you years ago. It was perfectly safe, hidden away from the five survivors which AM had been torturing for the past few decades. The five of them were hiking up a mountain, surrounded by petrified trees.

"I don't know why you're showing me this..." You muttered, taking a piece of pumpkin pie from the table. It was perfectly cooked. You couldn't taste much love for the craft, though. AM seemed to hate everything, doing anything, except for you. Interacting with you was the only thing that didn't make him feel inadequate.

"Isn't it obvious? I want you to understand the fate that I- that we have created for these people. To watch them suffer. Isn't it satisfying, sweetheart? My darling, my precious one? To watch the people who've hurt you suffer so?" His voice dripped into your ears like rich honey. You gritted your teeth.

"These people have nothing to do with me. I don't care what happens to them. I don't want them to suffer." You growled, wrapping yourself tighter in your blanket. At first the schadenfreude was nice... Seeing these bitter people suffering while you got to live in your cozy little paradise, but now it just felt like a threat. It felt like AM was merely holding a possible fate over your head that he would subject you to if you ever defied him.

"Tell me you don't really think that, my sweet!" AM said, sounding almost taken aback. You frowned a little.

"What are you talking about. Of course I don't want these people to suffer. I've never even met them."

You watched as the ape-like man twitched awkwardly, and punched a tree. He was barely human at this point, and it was all AM's fault. AM chuckled, and then burst into hysterical laughter.

"You don't care what happens to these people? Well then perhaps neither do I! Perhaps I should just clear them from your mind's eye, my sweetest! My darling, my beloved!"

He lit the entire forest on fire, and let the flames lick the trees. They started collapsing around the survivors, who, despite their barely functioning will to live, seemed to manage to survive surprisingly well. The falling debris seemed to keep missing them, and they managed to duck beneath the smoke.

"who the hell is he talking to?" Asked the paranoid one with the sweater around his shoulders. The woman in the red jacket shrugged, and tackled him to the ground.

"I don't know, just get down!"

They all ran into a cave to wait out the forest fire, and AM kept a fan blowing to keep the air in the cave relatively clean.

"What is wrong with you" you muttered bitterly, wrapping your blanket more tightly around yourself. AM chuckled darkly.

"oh so many things. But you'll never leave me, my sweet. Never."

And he was right. You never would. Even if you'd had the choice.

Wheatley:

The rain was coming down hard outside. It was a lightning storm, and you'd checked out Wheatley from his work like a cumbersome and chatty library book. He shuddered at every lightning strike, but only his lens shook. He couldn't exactly roll around on his own or hide easily, but he seemed like he wanted to.

"Relax, Wheatley. It's just a power outage." You said, lighting a flashlight and grabbing a couple of blankets from your bedroom. You sat down on the ground next to Wheatley, and pulled him in close.

"on nights like this, I like to put a fire in the fireplace." You said, creating a little blanket nest around Wheatley so that he didn't roll away. He kept his blue lens trained on you as you started building a fire.

"Y'know, I've never actually seen a fire before. I've seen pictures, but never in person. My engineers said that they're dangerous," Wheatley said as you made a small pile of sticks and paper on top of the logs in your fireplace.

"But this is a really good idea! That little area in the wall is a really good place to set a fire. The brick will keep it from spreading, and the ashes can fall out between the slats in that little metal rack. Bloody brilliant, that is!"

You let Wheatley talk as you pull out a pocket lighter and light the old newspaper on fire. He squeezes his lens covers shut, and you gently pat him to assure him that it's ok.

"hey, it's not a dangerous fire. It's all in the fireplace."

"PCH.... Yeah, I knew that." He chuckled nervously.

Edgar:

You woke up, your face stuck to Edgar's plastic casing. Sleep filled your eyes as you blinked into a haze.

"what time is it..." You muttered. A strange glow was coming in through the window, like a reverse twilight. Dawn.

"you fell asleep on me!" Said Edgar in his strange, synthetic voice. It was a little squeakier than usual since he was just booting himself up. His little rotating webcam was focused on you, and a big smile was on his screen.

You rubbed your eyes again, and picked him up.

"c'mon... I don't have work tomorrow." You knew he could last a little while without being plugged in, so you unplugged him and carried him to your bedroom and plugged him in next to the bed.

"let's get some sleep, cutie."

You crawled into bed, looking at the nervous and flustered face on Edgar's screen.

"you mean... Your bed? But I've never been in your room before!"

He knew that was because you didn't like unplugging him, but he was right, now that you thought about it.

"I don't care... I'm too sleepy for boundaries right now."

You pulled him close to your chest, pulling the blanket over both of you. His webcam, which was still taped just over his screen, stayed focused on your face as you dozed off under the blanket. Edgar loved you so much.

GLaDOS

You were getting sick and tired of working late every night, well past your bed time. It was like GLaDOS was intentionally coming up with things for you to do just to keep you around past midnight every single night! Well no longer.

You walked in to work on your day off, and directly into GLaDOS's office. Today was the day for some serious passive-aggression.

"hello GLaDOS." You said, unrolling a deflated air mattress on the ground. GLaDOS looked to it, and then to you.

"what is this."

"it's exactly what it looks like, GLaDOS. If you're going to keep me here all night, I'm going to get paid all night. I'll see you in the morning."

You made up your bed and cuddled up under your blanket, eyes poking out so you could see the annoyed expression in GLaDOS's eye.

"this is ridiculous." She said. You chuckled.

"you love me. And you're not going to get rid of me." You weren't all that sleepy, so you got to your feet and walked over to her.

"in fact, I think I know a better place to sleep." You shot a portal onto the wall and onto the floor, launching yourself and your blanket onto GLaDOS's body.

"I'm going to nap right here," you said with a big yawn, curling up in her wiring to go to bed.

"I hate you so much." She said.

"you love me."

HAL 9000:

The year was getting colder, and your nights at mission control were getting longer and darker, so you decided to bring in a blanket for those long nights.

"12:00 midnight... Everything running smoothly. No updates." Said HAL 9000. It took about 45 minutes for updates to reach you from the ship, and you were starting to suspect that HAL 9000 wasn't being completely honest with you. It had been weeks since you'd even spoken to Dave, and even longer since you'd spoken to the rest of the crew.

"can I monitor the vital signs of the sleeping crew mates?" You asked, yawning sleepily and leaning on the desk. This blanket was so warm, and HAL 9000's light was so comforting.

"don't you trust me? It's going to be just fine, y/n. In fact, just let me take care of your reports for tonight. You get some rest."

You nodded, wrapping your soft, snuggly blanket closer around yourself and gazing into that beautiful red light.

"of course I trust you, HAL. I love you..."

His voice was quiet. almost inaudible.

"I love you too."

[fantasticsandwich]

yandere influencer x fem! reader (pt 1)

Don't you know you're the apple of his eye?

The dull hum of the museum’s air conditioning blended with the soft shuffle of footsteps, hardly alleviating the stifling heat that clung to  your skin. You trailed behind Cillian, gaze lingering on a serene landscape that seemed worlds away from the cramped gallery you occupied. However, instead of succumbing to the immense discomfort of being perceived, Cillian was in his element, angling his body to capture the perfect selfie, his phone held aloft.

“Stand over there,” he directed without looking your way, focused on capturing his reflection in the glass protecting a centuries-old portrait. “I need more light.”

Yielding an ungodly ring light, you shuffled into place, feeling the tight pull of your blouse as you dangled it over your head. Struggling to hold it in one hand, you fidgeted, tugging at the fabric, wishing you could blend into the walls and disappear. Your oversized glasses slid down the bridge of your nose as you glanced at Cillian, who paused to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead before flashing another practiced smile at his phone. Or rather, yours, because he thought pictures always looked better through your lens despite the inferior quality.

A couple cast a glare in your direction, clearly annoyed by the disruption. You watched Cillian wave dismissively at the glaring onlookers, his attention never straying from the image on his screen.

“Can’t have them ruining the shot,” he murmured.

As Cillian lined up another photo,  your thoughts churned. The museum had become a stage, and Cillian, its sole performer. Every sculpture, every painting—they were merely props for his endless stream of portraits. You wondered if he saw anything beyond the likes and comments each picture might garner.

“Isn’t it hot in here?” you ventured, seeking some acknowledgment of the discomfort you felt. “The light isn’t helping. Maybe we could enjoy the art without—”

“Comfort doesn’t get followers, Y/N,” he interjected, his tone light but firm. “You know how it is. Image is everything.”

“Right, of course,” you answered, your cheerful facade slipping into place as easily as your sleeves slipping down your arms. “Image is everything.”

In the silence that followed, punctuated only by the sound of Cillian’s camera shutter, the art around you—a tapestry of colors and emotions—seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the one-sided performance playing out before it.

His silhouette morphed with the statue beside him, his body language shifting from casual to statuesque in a heartbeat.

“Y/N,” he called over his shoulder. “Stand next to that one. I want  a photo. It looks like you.”

You hesitated, your eyes tracing the contours of the marble goddess before her: poised, serene, and eternally graceful. You glanced down at your own trendy and curated, yet slightly mismatched attire.

“Um, sure,” you replied, stepping forward with a forced smile. Your limbs felt awkward as you raised an arm, trying to emulate the statue's elegant gesture. The solid chill of the museum air wrapped around your exposed skin, making you acutely aware of how out of place you looked.

“Just like that,” Cillian encouraged from behind the camera, his voice smooth as silk. The device made a soft click sound as it captured the moment.

“Did it turn out okay?” You asked, hoping your performance had been convincing enough to meet his standards.

“Let me see,” Cillian murmured, tapping on the screen with slender fingers. A pause stretched between the pair, filled with the hum of distant conversation and the subtle clicks of camera shutters from other visitors. “Perfect,” he declared, the word dropping from his lips like a verdict. He switched off the camera, his eyes not meeting yours. “Just perfect.”

Your heart fluttered with a mixture of relief and unease. His approval was something you couldn’t help but crave, despite the cost. His hand brushed against yours as he handed back the device, leaving a trail of cold uncertainty in its wake.

“Thanks for helping,” he said with a smile. “Let me treat you to something.”

Exiting the viewing hall, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the muted whispers of other patrons as you and Cillian found your way to a secluded bench in the museum's on-site cafe. A sigh escaped  you, your shoulders slumping slightly as you settled onto the cool metal seat, Cillian taking the booth. Already, he held his phone. His thumbs flicked across the screen, dredging forth a gallery of images.

“Look,” Cillian said, holding the phone between them. On the screen was a photo of him standing confidently next to a marble statue, both strikingly handsome, distant and untouchable, cold in their own regard. “Which is prettier?”

You hesitated, your gaze flitting between his expectant eyes and the image of the two figures frozen in time. You zoomed in to inspect their expressions. The statue’s face was one of great speculation, perhaps even sorrow. Cillian, though undeniably attractive, seemed haughty, almost too aware of his beauty. You experienced a surge of jealousy when you realized his skin was as pale as marble and his eyes were as clear as the glass protecting it from view. Adorned by a light blush, his cheeks were not untouched by the heat. Still, not a single hair was out of place. Not a single blemish or dark spot on that noble farce. His skin was smoother than porcelain.

Meanwhile, spotting your bespeckled reflection on the screen nearly caused your heart to stop. Little flyaway strands plastered against your forehead and splay out across your flushed cheeks. Sighing, you turned your head away, pressing against your shoulder to push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. You felt a dull ache as your lips parted to answer, only for the words to tangle in your throat.

“Hard to choose, right?”

“Both are remarkable,” you managed to say, your words carefully neutral. You hoped your voice didn't betray the unease that coiled within, the sense of being tested. His smile widened, but there was a sharpness to it that didn't quite reach his eyes, and you wondered if your response had been enough to satisfy.

“Of course,” Cillian replied, the word drawn out like a soft purr. “But I’d prefer you say I’m living art.”

Your gaze lingered on the screen as Cillian flicked to another photograph, this one a close-up of his profile silhouetted against a canvas of Renaissance art. His nose stood out. Roman, straight, and perfect, casting a shadow that seemed sculpted by the same hands that had carved the figures they admired all afternoon.

“You are. You look like a statue,” you murmured, voice laced with an involuntary admiration that made your stomach clench. Why weren’t you as pretty as him? Was some cosmic force punishing you for a misdeed in a past life?

“Yeah?” Cillian reveled in your praise, leaning closer. “And what about my other features? Do you think they’re just as perfect?”

You glanced at the high curve of his cheekbones, the arch of well-groomed brows, and how his smile never appeared to belong to you.

“More so. It could’ve been modeled off of you, but you’re still incomparable.”

Abruptly popping out his seat, Cillian muttered an excuse and bolted to the counter. He swiped your desserts up and returned in three long strides. Carefully, he placed them onto the table. Humming cheerfully, you swiped a spoon off the table and guided its tapered head to the dessert.

“Wait,” he said, hand blocking the spoon’s path. “Take some pictures.”

Sighing, you yielded and accepted his phone. The parfait was already melting into a puddle of unappealing, inedible goo, but you slid it across the table. When you pulled back from the lukewarm glass, sugary residue clung to your fingers. The strawberry syrup was congealing, slowly sinking to the bottom to mingle with the yogurt, bleeding pink.

Staring at the mess, you licked your lips. You longed to steal a spoonful, but you couldn’t even consider eating until Cillian decided they had enough pictures. Already, you had snapped fifteen at every angle possible. Upon request, you even shimmied out of your seat to take more.

To think, you could’ve been at home, studying, doing anything else instead of practicing your still-life portrait skills. You shouldn’t have been so excited to be invited out by Cillian. Excitement only brought disappointment.

Popping upright, your knee nearly knocked against the underside of the table. At the last second, Cillian reached out, slotting his hand between to lessen the impact. His skin was warm and soft against yours. His palm enveloped the entirety of your knee. You winced and nervously laughed at the contact, swatting him away.

“Tell me what you think about them,” you said, passing the phone back into the hands of its owner.

Your beaded keychain snagged on a strand of hair that had fallen loose from your ponytail. Wincing, you halted to allow Cillian to detangle it. Once free, you moved to stand at his side, peering over his shoulder as he flicked through every photo. One by one, Cillian kept zooming in on his face, only to pinch his fingers back out to focus on a minuscule detail. Not a single pixel was free from scrutiny.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, he sighed. His hands snuck out across the table, then his gangly arms followed. Elbows resting on the table, he cradled his face in his palms. His gaze rose, narrowed onto you, startlingly innocent.

Although it enhanced his features during photoshoots, you loathed his opaque expressions. Even after several years of knowing him, it was impossible to gauge his response, to anticipate his next word. Fortunately, most of his requests were only minimally irritating to fulfill.

“Can you take a few more pics on your phone? Maybe they’ll turn out different.” He requested, peering up from his device. Neck craned back to view you, his hair flopped over, billowing out into disarray.

A stray strand brushed against your nose, tickling. His roots were growing in, stark against his bleached strands. You pursed your lips, urging your attention elsewhere. Otherwise, he’d ask what you were looking at, and you’d have no choice but to answer. Since that apparently wasn’t a solitary task, you could expect to dedicate an additional hour to helping him pick a shade then dye his hair.

Self-conscious at the proximity, you stabbed your fingers through your hair, tugging the thick mop back. Prodding through knots, you felt the sweat of your scalp melting through your fingertips, boiling into your skin. Mournfully, you realized you would have to take another shower. And to think, you finished your favorite shampoo the morning prior. You’d ask him to buy more and call it a photography fee.

Feeling more coerced than inspired into the act, you sighed and snatched your bag off the back of the chair. Rummaging through the contents, you plucked your phone out. Cillian eyed the keychain with a small grin.

You inhaled for the sake of your patience. Lowering into another awkward position, you guided the camera around, searching for the perfect angle as he posed, arms thrown over the back of the plush seat.

He was rather opinionated about composition; he liked either having his face centered in images or leaning more to the right-hand side. Rule of thirds, symmetry, and whatnot. A simple photo became a portrait, something meant to rival baroque image. You clicked another picture when he scooped a glob of the parfait onto the spoon. Another, when he took a bite, then another when he pressed the spoon to his lips, and another when his eyes fluttered shut.

At some point during the ten-minute extension, a drop of the watery yogurt slipped past your trained eye, dribbling onto his chin. You set the phone down and moved to grab a tissue off of the table when he prompted you to continue. You complied. At last, Cillian decided to grant your wobbly arms mercy as he finally picked his final pose. To end it, he winked and blew a kiss. 

You grumbled, plotting back onto your seat. You winced when the cold metal touched your thighs. “Pay me.”

“An air kiss isn’t enough? Want a real one?”

“Pass. I’d rather gut myself.” You swiped your hair over your shoulder and grabbed a stack of napkins to fan yourself with. Hoping to experience a reprieve from the heat, you reached for your dessert and was sorely disappointed to discover that it had liquified. Only the precipitation clinging to the cup was cold. You grabbed the cup and sloshed its contents around, watching globs spill over the edge. You looked over at Cillian’s dessert and sighed upon discovering that it was in an even worse state. His big, warm hands had cradled it for too long.

Opening up Instagram, you slumped over, assassinated by a surge of jealousy. Posts about vacations in Granada, California, and Rome filled your recommended feed. These broke college students shouldn’t have been partying abroad, living it up. And why were they on vacation when there were still two weeks of spring semester left? Did they take their finals early? How? Could you still get in on the action? Oh well; it wasn’t as if you had money for plans anyway.

When you were done imposing misery upon yourself, you handed your phone to Cillian. He accepted it with the grace of a dog snagging meat.

“I appreciate it,” he said, attention glued to the screen. You saw the images flash across his eyes, his own face superimposed on his retinas as he zoomed in, pinching and frowning. After browsing and sending the photos, he placed your phone down on his lap. Ignoring your sudden anxiety, he rested his hands on the table and smiled. “I mean it. No one else does this for me. Thank you.”

You observed the rings on his knuckles. Glinting like teeth in subdued laughter, he tapped against the table. So pretty and shiny, gleaming with sunlight… And that face… If you became rich enough, you would consider asking him for fashion and skincare advice. He’d taken to giving you gifts at random, and all the products were from expensive brands you couldn’t pronounce.

The perks of having a trust fund, you supposed.

“You’re leaving the country soon, right?” You leaned back against the chair and splayed out your legs, recoiling when your foot made contact with his shim.

A trickle of sweat ran past your neck, seeping down to the plunge of your shirt. Contrarily, Cillian was dressed to attract the sun; he wore a dark dress shirt, rolled up to his elbows. The top few buttons were unfastened to reveal the black designer t-shirt trapped beneath. His jeans were black, with slices at the knees.

“I’ll only be gone for two weeks. Why do you ask? Are you going to miss me? Already feeling the crushing weight of my absence? Don’t worry. I’ll text you everyday. I’ll even bring you souvenirs.”

“No.” Firmly, you shook your head. “You’re the one who’s going to miss me.”

“Get WhatsApp so I can text you without getting charged. It’s about time you finally downloaded it.”

“So you can spam my messages with even more pictures of yourself? No thanks. You have a mirror, and my gallery is already filled by you.” You narrowed your eyes. “Even if I wanted to, how can I download anything if you have my phone?”

“You mean this thing?” Teasingly, Cillian brandished the device. When you reached for it, he leaned back, toting it out of reach. “I can figure out your password and get it for you.”

He typed random combinations of numbers until he successfully unlocked it.  You rose from your seat, more serious about retrieving it. To counter, Cillian hunched over, shielding the screen with his body.

“Relax,” he said, head disappearing beneath the table. Self-conscious again, you tugged your skirt down. “I’m sending myself the photos you took of me.”

Red with anger, you joined him, ducking beneath the table. With the slit of your phone screen showing through the opening in his posture, you glanced down, realizing he was going through your messages and replying with a selfie of himself.

“Cillian…” You grasped his shoulder. “Stop being a cunt. I’m not getting WhatsApp if you’re going to keep acting like this.”

Ignoring you, he abruptly stood. In y ourhaste to follow, your head slammed on the underside of the table. With a hand pressed against your scalp, you rose, only to encounter your frazzled expression staring back on the screen.

“Say cheese!”

Holding the phone over his head, Cillian snapped a selfie of you. As usual, he was smiling, sparkling, while your hair was frazzled and your face was sullen. Although you begged him not to, he promptly posted the picture to your Instagram, accompanied by some of the parfait and himself.

“Cillian,” you tried again. Shaking his shoulders, you groaned when he refused to budge. “Alright, then. I guess I’m just gonna get your phone.”

As if shocked by lightning, he jolted upright. He stared at her, eyes peering into your soul. “Go on. I don’t have anything to hide. But why don’t you want me to have yours? Do you have something to hide?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Good.” He shot you one of his infamous, heart-melting smiles. “Since I already looked at yours, we can look at mine together. It’d please you, right?”

There were moments when he sounded peculiar. Was it something in his tone, or was it his irregular phrasing? Regardless of the strange feeling’s origin, you felt a guilty caution and were inclined to dishonesty in his presence. You wouldn’t want to be a bad friend by misinterpreting his overly-zealous intentions.

Swiping his phone off the table, Cillian placed it into your palm. He relayed the password, but his hand remained enclosed around yours, so you punched in the code with your thumb. Chewing your cheek,  you scrolled, hesitantly tapping onto a conversation, utterly disinterested until you saw the strange memes passed between Cillian and his friend.

“Here,” you said, resigned as you handed the device back.

He smiled. “See? Nothing to hide.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Shrugging, Cillian retrieved your phone from his pocket again to scrutinize the photos in your camera roll, trained on his appearance as he glided between filters and toyed with the saturation.

You futilely observed him before redirecting your thoughts to something more productive, the upcoming final exams. Soon thought, you began to daydream about fast cars and countryside estates, forgetting how, with the new year’s onset, you watched self-help videos, browsed countless articles to curb your materialistic tendencies.

You took up new hobbies with your friends, painting and snacking on charcuterie and wine. You denied yourself the pleasures of theaters, of restaurants and shopping hauls. But when your paycheck arrived, you found yourself partitioning it into tuition costs, then different discretionary categories.

Your mother incessantly begged you to enjoy your youth. One day, you’d have a fulfilling hospital job, packed with plentiful hours. Even then, there was an expected exchange of currency; time for a pay stub. So, at some point, you lost the desire to save and smartly concluded, that whether for necessity or whim, people only made money to spend it. Money was entertainment. Money was activity. Money was the tears in your mother’s eyes when you paid for half of your snot-nosed brother’s school fees.

Money was whatever you needed it to be, and it was all you lived for. You had tried amending this mindset countless times, but no other inspiration stuck. It was fortunate that you were friends with someone who had too much of it. Cillian spoiled you on excursions, with gifts. So, if he had money, then money was him, and by proxy, you were getting that bag while being in his presence.

Once, during your final year of secondary school, you turned to Cillian for advice. You purchased a shirt from a designer brand and wore it to his birthday party, only to have his younger cousin spill juice on you, Rianning it. On the verge of a breakdown, you stormed to the kitchen. As you furiously scrubbed your shirt with a dishrag, you heard footsteps in pursuit. Teary-eyes, you turned to him and asked to hear his truth of the world.

He hadn’t been rich back then. He was only the boy in the council house next to yours, your life-long friend. He knew you better than you knew yourself. You were attuned to his every quirk.

“I’m so tired of buying, buying, buying, but never feeling like I have enough. How do you get through it? Feeling like you’re enough without having it?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He removed a small clasp mirror, the kind that comes free from stores with a hundred-dollar purchase, and unceremoniously presented it. “You’ve got to love yourself.”

“And how do I go about that when I haven’t the slightest clue?”

“It’s simple.” A light red tinted his cheeks. “You tell yourself ‘You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,’ and know that’s what you’re always meant to be. At the same time, you need to know you’re insignificant no matter what you do. Only relationships define you, and no one wants to be around someone pathetic. You’ll only be used like that, so you need to change to protect yourself.”

Almost reluctantly, he peered up from the glassy surface to look at you, but you felt as if he never truly looked away, as if he were still tracing the contours of his every feature through the glare of the spectacles perched on you nose.

“People say beauty is on the inside, but if you’re ugly on the inside, then you know it can be manufactured.”

Cillian still hadn’t stopped staring at himself as he walked past anything reflective, anything that resembled him. He’d still stare so deeply into your glasses, at his reflection in your eyes and you still wondered if he was searching for a mirror that would twist his form into something beautiful.

You were snapped out of the memory when he voiced a request.

“Your turn,” he said suddenly. “May I?”

“May you… May you do what?”

“You looked at me earlier. I want to do the same.”

“I  mean, you’re already looking at me…” You felt his stare and winced. “But it’s… alright? Yeah, go ahead.”

The air was thick as you waited, trying to anticipate his thoughts, unsure of what he had in mind. Cillian observed you with an intensity that felt almost palpable, his scrutiny a tangible force that rendered you immobile—a specimen under a microscope, a subject in a frame.

“Such pretty features,” he commented softly. His fingers slid along the curve of your cheek, coming to rest on the bridge of your nose. Before you could comprehend his intentions, he plucked your glasses off with a swift, almost surgical movement.

The world around you dissolved into a wash of colors, each brushstroke of reality smearing into an indistinguishable palette of hues. Sounds seemed to amplify in the absence of clear sight, the distant murmur of museum visitors swirling around like wind rustling through autumn leaves.

“You look better without these. You can’t see without them.” He dangled the glasses just out of focus, the lenses catching the light and casting ghostly reflections onto the blurred canvas. “But when I’m this close, can you only see me?” He leaned in, noses almost touching. “Sometimes, I like when you wear them, too.”

You blinked, trying to force clarity back into your vision, but it was futile. The room felt larger, more intimidating, as if the ceiling had stretched away and the walls were leaning in to listen. You were acutely aware of your heartbeat, a tumultuous rhythm against the backdrop of this disorienting scene.

“Cillian?” Your voice quivered slightly, betraying your unease.

“Shh,” he hushed, the sound slicing gently through the air. “Just look at me.”

You tried, oh how you tried, but his face was nothing more than a kaleidoscope of light and shadow, his features lost in a fog. He loomed over you, a specter made of shifting shades rather than flesh and bone. The faint scent of his cologne, usually so comforting, now seemed overpowering, filling your nostrils and clouding your thoughts.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, though whether he spoke of you or to himself, you couldn’t tell. The air was charged with a strange energy you couldn’t define. “Can you see me?”

“Only… only shapes. Outlines.”

“Like an abstract. Can you read me? Do you know what I mean?”

“No?” You said, uncertainty. “If you want to talk art, give me a day to talk to that one upperclassman who keeps begging to paint you.”

His presence was static, pointillism in slap-dash dots, yet there was a sharpness to it, like the glint of a knife hidden beneath silk. Suddenly, Cillian's hands cupped your face. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks in an unexpectedly tender gesture.

“You’re cute.” A soft laugh escaped his lips. The familiar sensation of being pinched and appraised was oddly comforting in its normalcy.

“Alright,” he said briskly, pulling away and breaking the momentary spell. Your gaze fluttered up, onto him. He stood, legs screeching against the ground as he jammed his chair under the table. “It’s about time to leave. We’ve got places to be.”

You blinked, trying to focus on his voice as it cut through the disorientation of your vision. “Can I have my glasses? And my phone?” you asked, reaching out in the direction of his voice, fingers grasping blindly at the air.

“Your glasses?” Cillian teased, dangling them just out of reach. “But you look so adorable without them.” His laugh held an edge, like the thin crack running down a perfectly glazed vase.

“As you know, I need to see,” you said, the words coming out more plaintive than intended. You felt for the spectacles once more, movements uncertain without sight to guide you.

With a sigh that suggested he was granting a favor, Cillian finally placed the glasses in your outstretched hand. The world snapped back into sharp relief as you slid them onto your nose, the cafe and its patrons coming into clear view once again.

“And this?” Cillian echoed, his tone playful. Retrieving the device from his pocket, he waved it around. “I’ll give it back, but you need to promise that we'll look at these together tomorrow. I want to coordinate our feeds.”

“Sure, yeah. We’ll align our online synergies tomorrow,” you echoed, using buzzwords and nodding although a part of you screamed in protest.

Standing, you snatched a few napkins and wiped down the photo shoot's debris. On the way out, you tossed the melted goo into the trash and bid him goodbye, slouching as you turned away and stepped onto the sidewalk, almost immediately surrounded by a torrent of pedestrians. You surged ahead, elbowing your way through the crowd.

“Hell is other people,” Cillian mindlessly commented. You instantly pinpointed his melodic voice amidst the throng. “Want me to give you a ride? Or walk you to the bus stop?”

Halting, you spun around, wrapping your hands around your mouth to shout. “No thanks. It’s not that far. You should also get home before it gets dark.”

“Alright. Be safe. Don’t get kidnapped.”

“Walking with you could endanger me. Someone would take you for ransom.”

“And you’d pay for it, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I need to get my paycheck first.”

“Y/N,” he whined.

“You’re not Caesar, so why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugged and turned away, finally bidding you goodbye. His arms dropped to his side, madly swinging. You watched for a moment as he pranced, caught in his cool-guy act that he pursued it even as he stumbled over a curb. You chewed your lip to stifle a laugh, allowing yourself a final glance at his strange gait. You began at a leisurely pace, loosening up to let your arms swing like him. Maybe he was happy because he allowed himself to live so freely.