#yandere night fury
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yanderes-galore · 1 year ago
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I really liked your Yandere Platonic Bewilderbeast. Could you make it in the version of a yandere Night fury with a darling mother (viking or dragon)? Being one of the most attached dragons to the mother in the franchise. 🥺
We haven't actually seen their dynamic with the parents of their species due to Toothless being the only one... but here you go :) Not fully proofread, expect mistakes.
Yandere! Night Fury with Viking Mother! Darling
Pairing: Animal/Pet-Like
Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Clingy behavior, Isolation, Kidnapping, Blood, Violence, Possessive behavior, Forced companionship.
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You taking care of a dragon egg in general was problematic as a viking.
Let alone a Night Fury egg.
As a result you may live isolated to keep the dragon hidden.
That or maybe this all takes place after an expedition with Hiccup, you already being a dragon rider.
Only to find an egg of a species you thought was nearly dead.
Either origin could work, either way you find yourself mothering the egg of a young Night Fury.
We do not know much about a Night Fury's relationship with their mother.
For this concept I will HC they get attached to whatever they see as their mother.
That means it's you due to being with the dragon since the Night Fury's birth.
Naturally this means the Night Fury never leaves you.
Night Furies even seem to age the same as humans, an example would be Hiccup and Toothless.
So, for example, maybe you find the egg as a teen... only for your dragon to be fully grown and rideable when you're an adult.
A Night Fury will no doubt be intelligent like Toothless.
However, similar to how Toothless takes on personality traits from Hiccup, your Night Fury matches your personality since you raised them.
They'd be protective but the degree depends on you.
Due to how you raise them they'll either avoid violence when protecting you or give into it.
After all... they don't want to make mother unhappy.
Naturally like most dragons raised from eggs... your Night Fury is affectionate.
As a domestic dragon all they really know is you.
Which means as you both grow up and you care for them... they never leave your side.
If this is around the time of Hiccup and Toothless, other vikings definitely note how your bond is similar to the older Night Fury and his rider.
However, while Hiccup and Toothless are most like brothers, your Night Fury sees you as their mom.
Your Night Fury looks at you for approval for everything.
As a dragon they are naturally possessive and protective.
Is they don't like someone around you... they're vocal about it.
Your Night Fury sees your home as your "nest".
As a result they defend it with their life.
Night Furies act like cats so your dragon curls on top of you and growls like a purr.
You may naturally comes to Hiccup for aid on the species.
Your dragon is hesitant about Toothless.
But your Night Fury starts docile around others.
Although as they get older they keep you in the house more often.
Soon the dragon won't allow others near you at all.
Especially not Toothless... the only other dragon if their species.
It gets to the point your dragon shoots off plasma bolts as a warning, sitting outside your hut for long periods of time like a guard dog.
You don't need other humans... you don't need other dragons...
You just need them.
If others try to pry you away from their claws... they'll move you.
If you raised them right they relocate you with as little violence as possible.
If you raised them to be more offensive... they cause chaos before taking off with you.
Perhaps you shouldn't have taken care of a Night Fury on your own...
If you didn't... maybe you wouldn't have to see your pet covered in blood as they nuzzle against you... alone on an island far away from your original home.
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be-xkyy · 21 days ago
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𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑉𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐ℎ
Warning: sexual content (mentioned), forced transformation, murder (mentioned), isolation, child abduction, blood, violence.
Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★ @rosey1981 ★ @thejadevvitch ★ @jellystar-star ★
Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★
Son name: Alexandre
Husband name: Louis
Masterlist
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Yandere Vampire who doesn't understand why you're so cold toward him; yes, maybe he killed all your friends and locked you in his castle, but he only did it because it was necessary.
Yandere Vampire who thinks you're being overly dramatic; he's already made up for his mistakes, turning you into a vampire, HIS mate, HIS wife, HIS duchess. Don't you see that he did the best for you by freeing you from your pathetic mortality? He gave you the greatest gift of all: eternal life.
Yandere Vampire who, despite his best attempts to make you happy, you're always melancholic. He gives you precious jewels that are over a century old. He makes sure his servants take care of everything and follow your every command so you don't have to lift a finger. He makes passionate love to you every night, giving you so many orgasms and love that in the end, you can't even form a coherent word. So why aren't you happy?
Yandere Vampire who after a long time decides to stop trying to figure out what you need to be happy and asks you directly (which is what he should have done from the start). One night, when you're both in your shared chambers, he decides to ask you the blessed question.
“I see that during these long months, my hard work to bring you happiness and joy has been a complete failure, so tell me, my dear, what do you need to be happy?”
“I want to be free. I no longer want to be confined within the walls of this castle. I don't want to be with you.”
“...”
Yandere Vampire who falls silent upon hearing your cold response; it almost seems as if your words didn't affect him, but his red eyes, which seem to glow, betray his anger. That, coupled with the lover/creator bond that unites your souls and betrays his anger, which seems to burn your body from the inside with a blazing fire, makes you shudder.
Yandere Vampire who decides to be merciful and forget this conversation, but not before threatening you. He approaches you, grabbing your jaw firmly. His elegant, ringed fingers grip your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, which shine with a burning and terrifying fury.
“Never, EVER say something like that again, my dear, or I'll show you what it means to truly feel miserable and unhappy.”
Yandere Vampire who becomes more distinct and rougher in the months following your small talk. He makes love to you more roughly, leaving your body aching and your neck and chest covered in bites and love marks. In retaliation, you leave his pale back covered in deep, bloody scratches (which only feed his ego).
Yandere Vampire who one day while looking for his next dinner date in a nearby town sees a smiling happy woman in a house who reminds him of you when he first met you. She's sitting in front of the fire in the fireplace, which illuminates her with a yellow and golden glow; she's cooing to a baby who's laughing and gurgling happily; a light bulb goes on in his head when he sees this scene. Maybe that's what you need to be happy, a baby. Little brats always bring joy and happiness, right? Maybe you two can't have a baby biologically, but he can take someone else's baby... right?
Yandere Vampire who decides to take matters into his own hands. He sneaks inside the house, ignoring the pain in his throat and yearning to suck the woman's blood dry. After all, he can't alert the town of his presence (there are already many suspicions of vampires in the area). So, he decides to be subtle and snaps the woman's neck, which he does. He sneaks up behind her when she notices his presence; it's too late. He hears the woman's heart race as he grabs her jaw from behind and twists her head with an ugly "crack." The woman's heartbeat stops, and her body goes limp.
Yandere vampire who drops the woman's body to the ground and focuses all his attention on the baby lying on the floor on a worn, old floral blanket. The baby's lower lip trembles as if he can understand the cruel fate of his only parent. His eyes water, and high-pitched sobs soon follow.
“Waah-Waah!!!”
“Hey brat, don't cry. You have no idea what a favor I'm doing you! Now you'll have a beautiful and loving new mother. No more old or worn-out blankets, just the finest clothes and silks for you.”
Yandere Vampire who takes the child in his arms, rocking him a little, but he doesn't stop crying; on the contrary, he cries even more. Frustrated, he covers the baby's mouth, slightly muffling his sobs, and slips out of the house, quickly heading for his castle.
Yandere Vampire who enters the castle through the extensive gardens filled with red roses. He ignores the curious servants who stare at him curiously as he enters with the sobbing baby in his arms and, without wasting any time, heads to his chambers, where he knows for sure you'll be. He pushes open the wooden door and enters. Your eyes immediately look at him, or rather, at the child in his arms.
“My dear! Look at the gift I brought you.”
“From where? Where are his parents?”
“The mother is dead, and there was no sign of the father anywhere, so now he's all yours!”
Yandere Vampire who smiles proudly when you approach and take the baby from his arms. His eyes soften when he sees you cooing at the baby, gently rocking him in your arms, and the child soon calms down. You head to the bed, placing the baby on the soft silk sheets, protecting him from the cold. He can't help but notice the child's resemblance to you, but he snaps out of his thoughts when he hears your annoyed voice.
“You carried him all over the frozen forest in just pajamas? A baby is very delicate and could get seriously ill, you stupid man.”
“I didn't think of that at the time, my dear. I just thought of bringing him to you, and now he's here with you. That's better than nothing, right?”
Yandere Vampire who happily notices how you become someone much more energetic and happy since the arrival of the baby; although he won't deny that he's a little jealous of the fact that you spend more time with the baby (whom you named Alexandre) than with him; you take Alexandre for walks in the garden, you bathe him, you dress him and you even read to him to put him to sleep; the baby quickly became very attached to you.
“Mother! Mother, look at this!”
“I'm seeing you, my love.”
Your voice comes out lovingly as you look at the now five-year-old boy running through the rosebushes adored with vibrant red roses. You walk slowly, following your little boy. Louis, your husband, walks beside you. Your arm is intertwined with his, though you ignore him most of the time. But that doesn't make him talk any less.
“He grew up so fast, don't you think? I remember when I brought him here, and he was just a baby.”
“I remember.”
“I honestly didn't expect him to make it past the week, you know, given the fact that he was cold and malnourished, but your love seems to be able to cure anything, my dear.”
“...”
Your red eyes glare at him in annoyance, and he just smiles, revealing his white teeth and sharp fangs. You want to wipe that smile off your face and slap him for saying something so out of place, but you hold back as Alexandre runs up to you both.
“Mother! Father! I want to see the roses up close! Lift me up, father!”
“Yes, sir! As Your Highness commands!”
You can't help but let out a laugh as your son reaches out for his father, bouncing slightly before Louis finally picks him up and places him on his hip. Alexandre stares at the roses (which he's seen a million times before) with fascination before pouting.
“Roses have the same color as her eyes! I want my eyes to be red too, father!”
“I think your eyes are beautiful—”
“Don't worry, my son, soon your eyes will be red too.”
“Louis—!”
“Really, Father?! I'm so happy my eyes will be like yours and my mother!”
~~~
“Have you lost your mind?! Why are you telling my son he'll also have red eyes?! He's not going to turn into a vampire!”
You yell in annoyance as you pace around your chambers, your furious eyes glaring at him accusingly as he lies in bed, propped up against the pillows. He smiles at you with a shrug before getting up from the bed and walking over to you.
“Why not? I mean, our son could live forever as a five-year-old. Is that really so bad, my dear?”
“That's selfish! You killed his parents, forced him to live confined here in this castle, and now you also want to force him to be five forever?! You are truly a horrible man!”
“His mother.”
“What...?”
“I killed his mother. I already told you there was no father anywhere, and I confined him here because it's safer for him... besides, I know the idea of ​​him being five forever doesn't bother you, my dear.”
“That's not true—!”
“Oh, you can deny it all you want, but I can feel in our bond that you don't mind the idea at all. It almost seems like you'd like him to be your baby forever... so tell me, my dear, who is the really horrible person here, huh?”
You don't know how to respond, because it's true, everything he says is true. You don't want your son to grow up and leave here, leaving you with the pain and agony of your lost life tormenting your soul again. Just thinking about it sends a feeling of pain to your dead heart. Even though you hate yourself for being so selfish, you can't deny what he's saying, so you duck your head and remain silent.
He lets out a playful laugh, moving closer to you. He runs his ringed hands down the front of your dress's corset, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers. His hands slide back, playing with the laces of the corset, untying the knot and loosening the bodice. He rubs his nose against your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses up to your ear. You shudder when his cold breath hits your skin. He murmurs playfully against your ear.
“Don't be ashamed, my dear. After all, being selfish is in our blood. Just let yourself go~”
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monstersholygrail · 2 months ago
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Yandere!Academic Rival who always flaunts his perfect test scores in front of you just to see you go red in the face with barely restrained fury. He adores the way you huff at him, your lips pouting in such an adorable expression. The way you scream at him, claiming he must’ve cheated.
Of course, stealing answer sheets wasn’t necessarily cheating, it was just a little educational aid.
But you can never prove it which only makes you even more angry. Pushing your chest up against his and sending him a threat you probably had to spend all night rehearsing. He relishes in it. Knowing your threats are just for him. Your anger belongs to him and him alone. Just like the rest of you.
The rest of the school silently wonders how it’s always you two. Only you and him at the top. And when they look at the scores, everyone else seems so far behind.
He would, of course, do anything to remain your rival. There were no lengths he wouldn’t go. That includes hacking into the college’s database and personally lowering each and every other students grades. He couldn’t dare risk someone else becoming your rival. He wouldn’t just let you forget about him, after all!
But somehow, even with his subtle suggestions to the grade book, there’s someone who actually manages to rise through the ranks. Some pesky little nerd who’s aiming for his number one spot. Wanting to take his place in your life. In your heart. Oh well, he’ll just have to take care of him…
Especially when he sees how you treat the pathetic nerd. You don’t hate him at all. Instead you’re actually— nice to him. Why him?! What made him so special?! That nerd doesn’t know you, not like he does. He doesn’t push you to do better and be the best, not like he does. Compared to him, the nerd is nothing.
So why do you smile when you see him? Why do you laugh at his jokes? Those should be smiles aimed at him. You should be laughing at his jokes, even if they’re usually made at your expense. It’s all part of what makes you and him so perfect together.
He just has to show you that… That’s it! He’ll show you. Both of you.
The next day he sees you waiting in the hall, most likely looking for that nerd. It’s a waste of time. He won’t be coming. He saunters up to you instead, his chest tightening as you scowl at him instead of smile. That’ll all change soon. Still, he sends you his signature smug smirk, the expression a little tighter today.
“Looking for the nerd? It’s strange, I heard he suddenly transferred and just up and left school in the middle of the night,” he says smoothly as he corners you against the wall. His shoulders relaxing as you inhale shakily. A clear sign of your affections, he’s sure.
All while his scent flooding your senses will distract you from realizing any holes in his lackluster story. You really were so smart, perfect, and all for him.
“Guess he just wasn’t cut out for the competition,” he muses, pulling a kabedon on you as he rests a hand above your head, and absentmindedly picking dried blood out from beneath his fingernails.
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angelfishe · 26 days ago
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>> 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
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Yandere genshin men x reader ( GODS AU ) Characters : diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, kaveh, zhongli, Childe, wriothesly, neuvilette.
The most desired goddess of them all, beloved and hated by many for their beauty. an ethereal being whose mere presence captivates mortals and gods alike. Your touch can inspire devotion, and your gaze alone has driven kingdoms to war. But among your admirers, a few stand out—gods who don’t just worship you, but obsess over you. Their love is consuming, possessive, and inescapable.
Inspired by Greek mythology, the reader is inspired by Aphrodite
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DILUC ( GOD OF FIRE AND RETRIBUTION )
A god of fire who embodies both destruction and renewal. He is worshiped by warriors and those seeking revenge against the corrupt. His followers believe that while his flames burn away evil, they also cleanse and bring rebirth. Despite his cold demeanor, he deeply values justice and protection. Your husband in contract.
Diluc’s love is like an unrelenting flame—it burns fiercely, searing away anything that threatens to take you from him. He believes that only he can truly protect you from the dangers of the divine and mortal realms alike. If another god dares to court you, he will see it as an act of war. His devotion is suffocating; he would burn entire cities to the ground if it meant keeping you safe and by his side.
Diluc is not blind. He sees the way other gods look at you—with longing, desperation, even defiance. It infuriates him to no end. He already won you, already made you his. What more do they want? His flames burn with rage at the mere thought of someone trying to take you away. If anyone dares to overstep, he will make an example of them—turning his divine fury upon them until they are nothing but ashes.
"You don’t need them. You don’t need anyone but me. Why risk your heart with those who will only betray you? I will guard you, worship you, love you... even if I must destroy the world to do so."
KAEYA ( GOD OF DECEPTION AND SECRETS )
A mysterious and cunning god, known for his silver tongue and ability to manipulate fate. He is neither entirely good nor evil, often testing mortals with riddles and half-truths. His followers pray to him for guidance in uncovering secrets—or keeping them hidden. Some believe he knows the answers to the world’s greatest mysteries but only shares them for a price.
Kaeya doesn’t just love you—he owns you. Or at least, that’s how he sees it. His love is a twisted game where he ensures you’ll never escape him, even if it means lying, tricking, or breaking you. He whispers sweet words, poisons the thoughts of others who dare approach you, and ensures that no one but him truly understands you. If you try to resist, you’ll soon find that every path leads back to him.
Kaeya loves a challenge, and what’s more thrilling than stealing the Goddess of Love from her own husband? He knows Diluc watches him with fire in his eyes, but that only makes the game more enticing. He’s always near, offering honeyed words, whispering promises of a love sweeter than flames. Wouldn’t it be more exciting to run away, to escape with someone who truly understands you?
"Marriage is just a word… isn’t it. does marriage truly mean love? Or is it just another contract, another chain? If you ever find yourself bored with that brute I'll promise you a night of passion… you know where to find me"
ALHAITHAM ( GOD OF REASON AND KNOWLEDGE )
A god who values intellect above all, often challenging mortals to think for themselves rather than blindly follow others. His temples are filled with scholars and scientists seeking enlightenment.
Alhaitham does not believe in fate, yet his obsession with you defies all logic. He has studied every aspect of your existence, analyzed every interaction, and concluded one undeniable truth: you were meant to be his.
Your marriage to Diluc? An incorrect equation. A mistake. A flaw in the grand design. He is patient, methodical—unlike the others who act on impulse. He won’t challenge Diluc with brute force or desperate pleas. Instead, he will plant doubts, whisper truths, and dismantle the foundations of your love, piece by piece.
"Love is not about passion or fire—it is about compatibility, understanding, and permanence. And by all rational measures… he is not your match. I am."
KAVEH ( GOD OF ART AND ARCHITECTURE )
A passionate and emotional god who values artistic expression above all else. He blesses architects, poets, and dreamers, urging them to create beauty in a harsh world. However, he often struggles with his own perfectionism, torn between ideals and reality. His temples are among the most breathtaking structures in existence, filled with intricate designs and stories carved into stone.
you are a masterpiece—the ultimate muse, the divine inspiration that makes life worth living. His love is suffocating in a different way: he needs you. Without you, he is nothing. He would carve statues, build temples, and dedicate his very existence to you, no matter the cost. But his devotion is unstable—his jealousy and desperation lead him to tear down anything that threatens to steal your love from him.
To Kaveh, your marriage is an absolute heartbreak. He sees himself as the only one who can truly understand you, truly cherish you. He paints murals of you in secret, builds shrines in your honor, whispers prayers of devotion. Every word from his lips is drenched in longing.
"I could have built you a palace fit for a goddess… Instead, you are trapped in his cage of fire. If only you had chosen me…"
ZHONGLI ( GOD OF CONTRACT AND KING OF THE GODS )
A god-king who rules with both wisdom and an iron fist. Unlike his more passive form as the God of Contracts, an unyielding monarch who commands the earth itself. His laws are absolute, and defying him leads to destruction. It is said that mountains bow to his will, and the very ground trembles when he speaks.
Zhongli, the King of the Gods, does not ask for what he wants—he simply takes it. He has ruled over divinity for eons, shaping the heavens and earth to his will. And you? The Goddess of Love and Beauty? You are the only being who has ever tested his patience.
Your marriage to Diluc is a mistake, a flaw in destiny that he will correct. He has watched, waited, given you time to understand the inevitable truth: you were always meant to be his. Yet you continue to resist. It is almost amusing.
"Mortal concepts like marriage hold no power over gods like us, my dear. You belong to me, as you always have. It is not a matter of choice—it is divine law."
CHILDE ( GOD OF CHAOS AND WAR )
A god of endless battle, unpredictable and relentless. He tests warriors by dragging them into brutal conflicts, favoring those who fight with heart over those who fight with strategy. Despite his violent nature, he values family and loyalty above all else. His followers believe that the sound of crashing waves is his war drum, calling them to battle.
Love is a battlefield, and he is willing to fight for you. He has never backed down from a challenge, and your marriage to Diluc is simply another war to win. He constantly challenges Diluc, hoping to defeat him and claim you as his reward. His devotion is as violent as it is passionate.
He grows frustrated when you defend Diluc, but that only fuels his desire to prove himself. To him, you belong to the one who fights hardest for you.
"What’s a piece of paper and some vows compared to real devotion? When I carve my love into the battlefield, will you still deny me?"
WRIOTHESLY ( GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD AND DEATH )
A god who rules the underworld with an iron yet fair hand. He does not seek cruelty, but neither does he tolerate injustice. Those who are cast into his domain are given a chance to redeem themselves—but only if they prove their strength and integrity.
You are the warmth in his cold, dark domain, the one thing that can soften his hardened heart. Unfortunately his duties in the underworld has made great a divider between you and him being together, the last time he saw you was your wedding day with diluc and he watched from the shadows seeing the one he loved the most being taken.
He respects the contract between you and diluc but what about him, he always fantasizes being with you but now you're in the arms of someone else maybe if he could find ways to bind you towards him being unable to leave the underworld maybe that's the only way to finally have you.
"Mortals and gods alike fight for your love, but only I am willing to keep you safe—forever. Even death will not take you from me."
NEUVILETTE ( THE SOVEREIGN OF WATERS )
Neuvillette is not merely a god—he is the first water, the primordial ocean from which all things were born. When the heavens and earth were still divided, he existed as an endless sea, a formless deity whose essence gave life to rivers, rain, and the tears shed by mortals. Legends say that his very presence dictates the balance of the world—when he weeps, storms ravage the land; when he is calm, the seas turn to glass. He is justice incarnate, not in the way of laws, but in the way water finds its path, carving through mountains and drowning kingdoms alike.
As the Primordial God of Water, Neuvillette is not one to be ruled by fleeting emotions—or so he tells himself. He has existed since before time, before love itself was given a name. He has seen kings rise and fall, empires swallowed by the tides, and yet… When he learns that you, the Goddess of Love and Beauty, have chosen another, he does not rage like the others... He weeps.
Neuvillette does not hate your marriage. He does not fight it, nor does he curse it. But he watches. He waits. Because fire will always burn itself out. And when that day comes, he will be there—as he always has been, and always will be.
"You have only to step into the tide, and I will take you where you truly belong."
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fangdokja · 4 months ago
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You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.
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❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped in his obsession, your brother’s love is a cage—burning, possessive, and unyielding. Every kiss is a claim, every touch a warning. You’re his, and he’ll make sure the world knows it.
♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.
♡ Pairing. Yandere! Older Brother x Fem. Reader
♡ Novelette. Sins of the Silent Heart - Part 1
♡ Word Count. 6,926
♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, incest, unhealthy power dynamics, toxic relationship, spanking and slapping, emotional and psychological manipulation, social isolation, non-con kissing, physical assault and abuse
♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.
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The dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp painted long, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting the once-familiar room into a grotesque parody of safety. His room—a chaotic vortex of textbooks, rumpled sheets, and the faint scent of stale cologne—now felt like a predator’s den, with you caught squarely in its jaws. The door clicked shut behind you with an almost mocking finality, the latch’s soft groan a promise of no escape.
He stood near the bed, his back to you, shoulders tense as if bracing for an internal war. His silhouette was a study in contradiction—strong, protective lines now cast in a menacing, foreboding light. The distant hum of the world beyond the house seemed to mock the thick silence between you, punctuated only by the rasp of his uneven breathing.
“Why are you here?” His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, low and clipped, every syllable weighted with restraint.
“I… I just wanted to talk.” Your words wavered, the carefully rehearsed lines evaporating under his icy stare when he turned, his eyes locking onto yours.
Those eyes, once a sanctuary of warmth during countless childhood nights, now held a glacial fury, as if he blamed you for some unseen torment. But beneath the chill was something darker, something that churned like a black hole, swallowing reason and morality whole. You couldn’t name it, but you could feel it—a suffocating, primal pull that made your stomach twist and your legs stiffen.
“I’ve been busy,” he said curtly, turning back to his desk, dismissing you as easily as one might swat away an insect. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I miss you.” The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, a desperate attempt to breach the widening chasm between you. “I thought—now that we’re both here—maybe we could…” Your voice faltered as he turned again, this time slowly, deliberately, like a predator circling prey.
“Miss me?” he repeated, his lips curving into a bitter smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t even know me anymore.”
The accusation hit harder than you expected, making your chest tighten. “That’s why I’m here,” you murmured, your hands clenching at your sides. “To know you again.”
He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Know me?” His gaze raked over you, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. “You wouldn’t want that. Trust me.”
His words were a warning, but they only fueled your resolve. You stepped closer, driven by the memory of the brother who once held your hand during thunderstorms, who stayed up late helping you with your homework, who always told you everything would be okay. “You’re still my brother,” you said softly, pleadingly.
“Don’t,” he growled, his voice suddenly sharp, his hand twitching as if to reach for you but stopping short. “Don’t call me that.”
The air between you grew oppressive, thick with unspoken truths. Your heart pounded as his gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide as they drank you in. For a moment, his mask of indifference cracked, and what lay beneath made your stomach churn.
“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was low, almost gentle, but it carried the weight of a confession. “The way you look at me? The way you follow me around like a lost kitten?” He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed into the wall, your breath hitching. “You’ve always needed me. Always depended on me. And now you think you can waltz in here and what? Fix everything? Fix me?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Shut up.” His voice cut through your protest like a whip. He was close now, too close, his breath hot against your cheek. The smell of him—faintly metallic, tinged with sweat—wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. “You don’t know the first thing about me, about what I’ve done. About the things I think about when I look at you.”
The room seemed to tilt, the floor buckling under the weight of his words. “I… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.
“No, you wouldn’t,” he sneered, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall beside your head, caging you in. “Because you’re pure. Untouched. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this...this sickness. To want something you can never fucking have.”
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the frantic pounding of your heart. His confession hung in the air like a noose, tightening around your throat.
“I tried,” he continued, his voice shaking now, the cracks in his facade spreading. “I tried to stay away. To forget. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked trying to scrub you out of my head? But it doesn’t work. It never fucking works.” His hand slid down the wall, his knuckles brushing against your shoulder. “You’re in here,” he said, tapping his temple, then his chest. “In here. Like a damn parasite.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Why are you saying this?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why now?”
“Because you’re here,” he said simply, his lips curling into a twisted smile. “Because you walked into my fucking room and looked at me like that. Like I’m still the hero you remember. Like I haven’t been corrupted.”
“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.
“Good,” he replied, his tone soft but laced with menace. “You should be scared. Because if you stay, I don’t know if I can stop myself.”
For a moment, neither of you moved, the room charged with a tension so thick it was suffocating. Then, with a suddenness that made you flinch, he stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “Get out,” he growled, his voice rough and uneven. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands fumbled with the doorknob, your legs barely supporting you as you stumbled out of the room. As the door slammed shut behind you, the last thing you heard was the sound of his ragged breathing, a haunting symphony of longing and despair.
────────────
It began in your first year of university, with a joke. A harmless, stupid, throwaway line.
"Hey, your sister's cute. Maybe I'll ask her out when she’s older."
You hadn’t been there to hear it. Maybe that was for the best. He’d laughed then, a sound so casual it might have fooled anyone listening. “Don’t even think about it,” he’d said, shoving his friend’s shoulder as if it were all a joke. But deep down, something had snapped into place.
It wasn’t anger, exactly—not yet. Just a quiet, simmering unease that he didn’t understand.
You were always close to him, always lingering just at the edge of his vision, a constant part of his life. He was your older brother; it was natural. He was protective—maybe a little too much so. But wasn’t that what older brothers were supposed to be? That’s what he told himself whenever he felt the strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest.
It only became a problem the day he saw you with someone else.
It was late autumn, and the world was painted in muted tones of orange and gray. He’d been walking to the library to pick you up when he saw you standing beneath a streetlamp with a boy.
The sight froze him in place.
You were holding a notebook, pointing to something on the page, explaining something with that calm, patient expression you always wore. The boy leaned in, his eyes never leaving your face.
And that was when he felt it. That sick, twisting feeling in his gut. The way the boy looked at you—like he wanted something. Like he thought he deserved something.
His hands clenched into fists, the sharp bite of his nails grounding him just enough to keep him from storming over. He didn’t know what he’d say if he did. What excuse could he possibly give?
Instead, he stayed hidden in the shadows, watching as you finished your tutoring session. The boy lingered too long, said something that made you smile faintly, and then finally walked away.
You didn’t even notice him standing there. You just closed your notebook, adjusted the strap of your bag, and walked off as if nothing had happened.
He followed you home that day, keeping a careful distance.
After that, it was as though something inside him had cracked open.
He told himself it was normal to be worried. You were too trusting, too naive. You didn’t see the way people looked at you. You didn’t realize how vulnerable you were. Someone had to protect you—someone who knew you better than anyone else.
But it wasn’t just about protection anymore.
It was about possession.
He tried to ignore it at first. Tried to tell himself it was nothing. But every time he saw you leave to meet that boy, his anger simmered just a little hotter. It didn’t matter that you were only tutoring him. It didn’t matter that you weren’t interested. He could see the way the boy looked at you, the way he lingered when you weren’t paying attention.
He started watching you more closely after that. You didn’t notice—of course, you didn’t. You never seemed to notice anything when it came to him.
When you weren’t around, he buried himself in distractions. He went out with his friends, dated girls who were nothing like you, did anything he could to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.
Every laugh, every touch, every kiss felt wrong. None of them were you.
By the time you started your second year of university, and him at his Master's, he’d perfected the art of keeping his distance. He didn’t want you to see the way he looked at you, didn’t want you to know the things he thought about late at night when he was alone.
But keeping his distance didn’t mean he stopped watching. He always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.
You were his. Even if you didn’t know it.
Another day, he caught you talking to someone else. Another boy. It didn’t matter that the conversation was casual, that you barely even smiled. All he could think about was how easily someone else could take you away from him.
When you came home that evening, he didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask why he was so quiet, why he avoided your gaze, why his knuckles were red and raw as if he���d been punching something—or someone.
You never asked questions like that.
Maybe you should have.
Now, standing in his room, he runs his hands through his hair, staring at the picture of you on his desk. It’s an innocent photo, one taken years ago during a family trip. But to him, it’s more than that.
It’s proof. Proof that you belong to him. Proof that no one else has the right to take you away.
He knows he can’t keep this up forever. He knows the truth will come out eventually.
But when it does?
You won’t have a choice.
────────────
It began with distance. He thought it would fix things—make him normal again, make you normal again. He pulled back, growing cold and indifferent, watching you from a distance as you stumbled through life. You didn’t even notice, did you? How he deliberately stopped answering your questions with warmth, how he only gave you clipped, efficient replies. How he didn’t teach you the things he should have, the things that would have made you stronger.
You didn’t need friends. He made sure of that.
He liked it that way—your awkwardness, your inability to connect with others. It kept you safe. It kept you his.
But then...
Then, he saw the change.
You became distracted, eyes far away, your lips twitching into little half-smiles when you thought no one was looking. At first, he ignored it. Told himself it didn’t matter. But then he started noticing the way you doodled during your free time, how your handwriting softened, curling into childish hearts.
And then the name.
Daniel.
The rage that erupted in his chest was immediate, primal. He wasn’t proud of how quickly he found your diary, how thoroughly he read every naïve, saccharine line.
"Daniel held my book today! He smiled at me, I think! Maybe I’ll ask him to the dance? Would he say yes? It’s stupid, but I think we’d make a great match."
You wrote about your future. About marriage. Little plans you hid in the margins of your notebook like some ridiculous fairytale.
Marriage, when you didn’t even know what it meant. When you’d never spared him, the one who’s protected you your entire life, that warm, shy smile.
He could’ve broken your door when he threw it open that night. You weren’t even there to hear the sound splinter through the silence, or see the way he stood there, shaking, fists clenched white-knuckled. He tore through your things after that—pictures, scraps of paper, clothes—he wanted to find anything, anything that might explain why you’d betrayed him like this.
You didn’t have the right to want someone else. You barely knew what you wanted! That boy didn’t even like you. Couldn’t you see it?
The world saw you as the awkward, strange little thing you’d always been. And he liked it that way. It kept the wolves at bay. He kept the wolves at bay.
But this boy? This Daniel? He didn’t even look at you the way you thought he did. He didn’t deserve your thoughts, your shy little fantasies. He deserved nothing.
When you finally confessed to the boy, he was there.
He’d hidden in the shadows like a predator waiting for the right moment. Watching as you stood there, clutching that stupid notebook to your chest, stammering over your words.
Daniel’s rejection was inevitable. His awkward laugh, his half-hearted apology—it was all so predictably pathetic. But you didn’t stop there.
Even after being turned down, you followed him. Like a kitten, tail wagging, desperate for scraps of affection. The same way you used to follow him.
That night, he didn’t go home. He didn’t sleep.
His body ached, torn between the raw heat of his anger and the cold clarity of his realization.
You’d never shown interest in romance before. Never spared anyone those soft looks, those quiet smiles. Not until now. And the thought of you giving that warmth—his warmth—to someone else?
He didn’t just want to destroy Daniel.
He wanted to destroy you.
You traitorous, ungrateful little bitch.
The next time he saw you, you didn’t notice anything was wrong. How could you?
“Hey,” you’d said softly, the same way you always did when you weren’t sure if you were bothering him. He didn’t reply.
Instead, he crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps. You flinched when he cupped your face, his fingers rough against your skin.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice was calm, too calm, each word slicing through the silence like a blade.
You blinked up at him, confused, your lips parting to stammer out a reply. But he didn’t let you.
“Do you think he could protect you the way I have? Do you think he even sees you? You’re so... stupid.” His grip tightened, just enough to make you gasp. “But I’ll fix that.”
That night, he showed you what it meant to belong to someone.
There was nothing gentle in the way he touched you. Nothing kind. It wasn’t love—not in the way you’d dreamed it would be.
It was sharp edges and whispered threats. The suffocating weight of his body pinning yours to the mattress, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured things too dark to repeat.
“I’ll make sure you never think of him again,” he growled, his voice low and venomous.
You cried. He didn’t stop.
Because you were his. And no one else deserved to have you—not even you.
The next morning, he watched as you sat silently at the table, your hands trembling as you picked at your breakfast.
You didn’t look at him.
Good.
He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a satisfied smile.
“You’ll thank me one day,” he said, his tone light and conversational, as if nothing had happened. “You’ll see.”
But in the dim light of the kitchen, his eyes glinted with something darker.
Something permanent.
────────────
He hadn’t kissed you that night. He hadn’t touched you—not in the way he craved. That would come later.
Instead, he had punished you.
The memory played like a cracked film reel in his mind, skipping over the sound of your muffled cries, the way your body jolted with every strike of his hand. He’d treated it like a lesson, hadn’t he? A father disciplining a wayward child, nothing more.
Except it was so much more.
Each tear that slipped down your cheeks, each broken sob, fed something primal inside him. It made him feel strong, in control—your trembling figure draped across his lap, your protests falling to deaf ears.
“You need to understand,” he had murmured between blows, his voice calm, deliberate. “You don’t need anyone else. You don’t get to have anyone else.”
It wasn’t until your body went limp, your resolve shattered, that he finally stopped. His hand lingered against your flushed skin, his breathing uneven. He could feel the temptation coiling inside him, the desire to leave more than just a warning.
But he didn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Not yet.
You were still too young, too delicate, and he loved you too much to break you completely.
In the days that followed, you clung to him like you always had. The defiance in your eyes was gone, replaced by a docile obedience that filled him with both satisfaction and guilt.
It was better this way. No friends, no distractions.
Just the two of you, the way it had always been.
────────────
The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the suffocating quiet of his room.
He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp as he exhaled sharply.
He could feel the cracks spreading, the fragile dam of restraint he’d built over the years threatening to shatter. You were older now—no longer the awkward, wide-eyed girl he’d once protected. You were beautiful, maddeningly so, and every time he looked at you, he could feel his self-control slipping.
But what was he supposed to do?
His parents had never cared, not about him, not about you. The only thing that mattered to them was the profit you both could generate. He doubted they’d even notice if he crossed the line.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it?
His gaze drifted to the doorway you’d just passed through, his chest tightening with something dark and suffocating.
He could take you now if he wanted to. No one would stop him. No one would care.
But he cared.
He loved you in a way that terrified him, a way that left him tangled in knots of lust and guilt and longing. He wanted you—to keep you, to claim you, to destroy anyone who dared look at you the wrong way. But more than that, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you.
And that’s where the conflict lay.
Would you still look at him with those soft, trusting eyes if you knew what he was thinking? Would you still cling to his arm, still smile at him, still call him brother if you knew the truth?
Or would you hate him?
The thought sent a shiver of rage and despair through him, his hands clenching into fists.
He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal.
What was the point of waiting?
Every moment he held back felt like agony, his need for you consuming him piece by piece. You were already his, in every way that mattered. You’d been his from the start, long before you even realized it.
He stopped in front of the mirror, his reflection glaring back at him—a predator barely leashed, a man fighting against the very instincts that defined him.
He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a dark, humorless smile.
“As long as I don’t get caught, right?” he muttered, his voice dripping with bitter irony.
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
When he finally left the room, his mind was made up.
He’d wait, just a little longer. Long enough for you to grow even more dependent on him, long enough for you to forget whatever fleeting fantasies you’d once harbored about other men.
And when the time came, when there was no doubt in your mind that he was the only one who could ever love you, he’d take what was his.
Until then, he’d bide his time.
But God help anyone who got in the way.
You were his. And soon, you’d know it too.
────────────
Classes had started like any other semester. Despite sharing a dorm, he and you had kept your distance—a mutual, unspoken agreement that suited both of you.
On the surface, things appeared normal.
He excelled as always, juggling academics, sports, and a parade of temporary girlfriends like it was nothing. You thrived in your own way, delving into the competitive grind of your entrepreneurship course with an unrelenting focus. To the outside world, you were two strangers, bound only by circumstance. No one would guess you were siblings, much less tied by anything deeper.
And that was fine by him.
As long as you stayed close—within reach—he could tolerate the cold distance between you.
It began as a flicker, a subtle shift in your demeanor that most would have missed.
You’d always been poised, calm, your expressions muted and unreadable, much like his own. But lately, there was something else—an irritation simmering beneath the surface, barely contained. You’d still wear that neutral, aloof mask, but he could see through it.
At first, he dismissed it. Maybe you were stressed. Maybe it was nothing.
But then he noticed the reason.
It was another guy.
The bastard was a thorn in your side, a so-called academic rival who had taken to hounding you relentlessly. He was obnoxious and petty, constantly goading you with thinly veiled insults and challenges.
Initially, he’d thought it might be a good thing—an opportunity for you to toughen up, to learn not to rely on him or anyone else.
How fucking naive he’d been.
The longer he watched, the more he understood.
The interloper didn’t even realize he liked you, not yet, but the signs were there. The way he hovered around you, the excuses he made to stay close, the looks that lingered too long—it was all obvious to him.
What infuriated him most was you.
You, who never cared about anyone. You, who had always kept your distance from people, brushing off their advances without a second thought.
You weren’t pushing the bastard away.
You tolerated him, even seemed to accept his presence, and that made his blood boil.
He told himself it didn’t matter.
No need to make a scene. No need to draw attention.
But it gnawed at him, day by day, that stupid fucker sticking to your side like a damn parasite. He could feel it building inside him, a storm of frustration and possessiveness he couldn’t fully suppress.
And then it happened.
You were late for dinner one evening, and his annoyance was already simmering by the time he went looking for you. He’d told himself he was only checking in because it was still his responsibility to take care of you.
That’s what he told himself.
He found you in an empty classroom.
And you weren’t alone.
────────────
The moment he saw you with him, it was as if the ground beneath his feet had shifted.
At first, it was confusion—a fleeting, disorienting moment where he didn’t fully understand what he was looking at. The interloper, leaning closer, his expression soft and open, the kind of look reserved for someone you cherished. You.
You, standing there, not moving, not rejecting him. Your hand was still, almost brushing against his, your lips parted as if you might speak—or worse, respond.
The first spike of jealousy hit him like a blade.
Not the dull ache of annoyance he’d felt when you first started tolerating this bastard’s presence. No, this was different. This was visceral. It clawed at him, shredding through his carefully constructed self-control until all that remained was raw, unfiltered rage.
His pulse roared in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out reason. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He could feel the metallic tang of it on his tongue, sharp and bitter, mixing with the bile rising in his throat.
He’d always prided himself on being in control. He wasn’t some reckless animal, driven by instinct or emotion. He was better than that. Smarter than that.
But watching that fucking bastard lean closer to you—watching you let him—it unraveled something inside him.
This wasn’t just anger. This wasn’t just possessiveness.
This was a deep, gnawing sickness, a jealousy so consuming it felt like his very soul was being eaten alive.
He couldn’t stand the way the interloper looked at you, like you were something pure and delicate. Like you were a prize to be won.
That was his.
You were his.
The thought burned through him, scorching and absolute.
He’d spent years keeping you close, making sure no one else could reach you, molding your world so that he was at the center of it. And yet, here you were, letting this pathetic excuse of a man step into the space that only he should occupy.
It was a betrayal.
And you—oh, you—were just as much to blame.
You, who never cared for anyone. You, who always kept your distance, your heart locked away. You, who had followed him like a shadow for so long, who had looked at him with that shy, adoring gaze that made him feel untouchable.
Now you were looking at someone else.
And it wasn’t just the look—it was your body language, the way you leaned ever so slightly into the interloper’s space. The way your eyes softened, your lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.
He wanted to rip that expression off your face.
Not because it didn’t suit you—it did. It was beautiful. It made his heart ache.
But because it wasn’t for him.
The jealousy twisted, dark and monstrous, until it became something else entirely.
He didn’t just want to destroy the interloper.
He wanted to destroy you.
Not completely—no, never completely. You were his, after all. But he wanted to shatter this version of you, the one who dared to look at someone else with warmth. The one who dared to let someone else get close.
He wanted to strip you down to nothing and rebuild you in his image, piece by trembling piece, until there was no room for anyone else.
And then the bastard leaned in closer, and the room seemed to tilt.
The distance between you shrank, his lips hovering just above yours.
────────────
You were letting it happen.
Something inside him snapped.
Before he realized it, he was moving. The door slammed open with a deafening crash, and the interloper jerked back, startled, his face paling when he saw the storm etched into his expression.
“Hey, man—”
The words barely left the bastard’s lips before his fist collided with his jaw, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the empty room. The impact sent the other man sprawling, blood pooling from his broken nose as he groaned in shock and pain.
“Stay. Away.” His voice was low, lethal, the kind of tone that promised far worse if the warning wasn’t heeded.
The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the crumpled figure at his feet.
He turned to you then, his chest heaving, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
You stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, your lips parted in disbelief.
“Get up,” he barked, his tone sharp, brooking no argument. “We’re leaving.”
You didn’t move, still staring at the man on the floor, and something in him snapped again.
He crossed the distance between you in two strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him with enough force to make you stumble.
“I said, we’re leaving.” His voice was quieter this time, but the edge of danger was unmistakable.
Your gaze finally shifted to him, your eyes searching his face for something—an explanation, a reassurance, anything.
But all you found was rage.
As he dragged you out of the room, his grip unyielding, his mind raced.
This wasn’t over. Not even close.
You had betrayed him. Again.
And this time, he wasn’t sure he could let it slide.
No one else gets to have you. No one.
────────────
The door to your shared dorm slammed shut behind you with a bone-jarring finality. The echo reverberated in the small space, amplifying the oppressive silence that followed. You winced, clutching your throbbing wrist where his grip had bruised it. But before you could pull away, his hand was on you again, relentless and unyielding.
“Let go,” you hissed, yanking your arm back, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound resolute. The command only seemed to enrage him further.
His response was immediate, a blur of motion and a sting that burned like fire across your cheek. The force sent you staggering, your knees hitting the cold floor as your vision swam. Pain blossomed, sharp and unrelenting, and you tasted copper on your tongue.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” His voice, usually so measured, so cold, was now raw and trembling with fury. He loomed over you, a monolith of rage, his shadow swallowing you whole. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see? Wouldn’t know?”
You pressed a trembling hand to your face, the sting of his slap radiating through your skull. You glared up at him, defiance flickering like a dying ember in your tear-filled eyes.
“What is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice quaking as you pushed yourself up. “I didn’t do anything!”
The words barely left your mouth before his hand shot out, tangling viciously in your hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, unhinged gaze.
“Didn’t do anything?” he snarled, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that sent chills racing down your spine. “You let him touch you. You let him. Are you that desperate? That much of a pathetic little whore?”
You choked on a gasp as he tightened his grip, pulling hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your neck. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “I saw it. You didn’t push him away. You didn’t stop him.”
“You’re wong,” you bit out, your voice trembling with fury and fear. “You’re imagining things that aren’t there—”
Another slap cut your words short, sharper this time, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You crumpled again, your cheek pressed against the floor, and before you could recover, his hand was back, dragging you up like a ragdoll.
“Do you spread your legs for anyone who pays attention to you?” he hissed, his voice venomous, laced with a dangerous kind of desperation. “Are you really that easy? That desperate for it?”
You glared at him through the haze of pain and tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. But he wasn’t looking for defiance. He was looking for submission.
For proof that you were his, and his alone.
His free hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was a terrifying mix of fury and something else—something far darker, far more possessive.
“Say it,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Say you’re mine. Say it, or so help me, I’ll make sure no one ever looks at you again.”
You opened your mouth to retort, to scream, but the words caught in your throat as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.
“Say. It.”
The room spun, your vision blurring as the oxygen left your lungs. Panic set in, and your resolve began to crumble. You clawed at his arm, your body trembling with the effort to stay conscious.
“Yours,” you gasped, barely audible, but it was enough.
His grip loosened just enough to let you breathe, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.
“Good girl.”
The words sent a shiver down your spine, a sickening mix of relief and terror. His grip in your hair eased, but only to drag you closer, his arms encircling you in a cage of muscle and iron will.
“Don’t make me do this again,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less threatening. “I don’t like hurting you. But I will if that’s what it takes to keep you.”
You stayed silent, too shaken to respond, your body trembling in his grasp. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. This was only the beginning of the storm.
────────────
Without another word, his lips slammed onto yours, a bruising, punishing kiss that stole what little breath you had left. Your eyes widened in shock, and you squirmed, thrashing against his iron hold, but it only seemed to fuel him further. His teeth bit down hard on your lower lip, drawing blood, and his tongue invaded your mouth with an almost feral desperation.
Every movement was a claim, a declaration, his hands gripping you like you might vanish if he let go. He growled against your lips, his voice a low, guttural snarl as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning yours effortlessly.
“Since you’re so eager to spread your legs for any man who looks your way,” he hissed, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, “why not for me? Your own older brother. Or does that only make you more of a filthy little slut?”
You shook your head vehemently, tears spilling down your cheeks, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want your consent; he wanted your submission. Your humiliation. His lips crashed against yours again, his teeth marking you, biting and bruising as though he could etch himself into your very being.
His hips pressed against yours, the weight of him inescapable as he ground against you with a possessive growl. Every word that left his mouth was venomous, dripping with jealousy and rage.
“Do you know how sick you make me?” he spat, his voice trembling with fury. “How fucking jealous I get every time I see someone else looking at you? Touching you? You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”
Your protests were muffled, your struggles weakening under the sheer force of his assault. His hands roamed your body with an almost methodical cruelty, every touch a reminder that you belonged to him and no one else. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air heavy with his dominance, his possessive need swallowing you whole.
“No one else gets to have you,” he growled against your ear, his voice a deadly promise. “No one.”
His lips crashed against yours again, bruising, punishing, and suffocating. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only raw desperation and rage poured into every motion. His teeth scraped against your lips, a deliberate, cutting edge to the kiss that made you whimper, the taste of blood sharp and metallic as it spread across your tongue. He wasn’t just kissing you; he was claiming you, forcing his presence into every corner of your being.
When you tried to pull back, his hand was there, tangling in your hair with a bruising grip, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Every gasp you took was his to steal, every sound you made swallowed by his insistent, devouring mouth.
His tongue pressed into you, hot and invasive, tasting, consuming, as though he could erase any trace of anyone else with sheer force alone. The kiss deepened with every passing moment, turning darker, hungrier, as his free hand gripped your waist hard enough to leave marks, pressing your body against the wall with an unrelenting pressure.
The sharp pain of his bite pulled a gasp from your lips, and he seized the moment, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that felt almost mocking. It wasn’t enough for him to take; he wanted you to feel it—to feel the way he dominated every inch of you, every sound, every breath.
“You taste like lies,” he growled against your lips, the words vibrating through your chest as his teeth grazed your bottom lip again, threatening another sharp bite. His breath was hot and ragged, mingling with yours, and the fury in his eyes hadn’t dimmed—it had only sharpened, focused entirely on you. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone else have this? Have you?”
Your hands pushed weakly at his chest, but it was like trying to move stone. He laughed, a low, bitter sound that sent chills racing down your spine. “Pathetic,” he sneered, the word dripping with venom. “Look at you. Fighting when you know you’ll lose. You always lose.”
He kissed you again, harder this time, his teeth sinking into your lip just enough to sting before he licked the blood away with a slow, deliberate motion. “Mine,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “Every inch of you. Every breath you take. Don’t forget it.”
He shifted slightly, his hips pressing against yours, trapping you further as his mouth moved with calculated cruelty. Each kiss was an invasion, each touch a brand, his lips trailing down to your jawline and then to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, sending a jolt through your body that you couldn’t suppress.
“You think they could kiss you like this?” he hissed, his voice rough and filled with bitter jealousy. His lips latched onto the base of your throat, sucking hard enough to bruise as his hands roamed your sides with deliberate possessiveness. “Think again.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face inches from yours, his breath fanning against your swollen lips. His thumb brushed your cheek, almost tender, before he pressed it against the raw bite mark he’d left. You flinched, and he smirked, leaning in to whisper against your ear.
“You’ll remember who you belong to. Every time you see these marks, every time you feel them—” His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “—you’ll remember me.”
Then his lips found yours again, relentless, brutal, as though he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into your waist, his nails biting into your skin, and every movement was a reminder of the storm raging beneath his skin.
“You make me like this,” he growled between kisses, his voice thick with fury and something darker. “You make me fucking crazy. You make me want to ruin you, just so no one else can even look at you.”
His words blurred with the heat of his kiss, the tension between you a heady mix of fear, pain, and something far more twisted. And in that moment, you knew there was no escape—not from him, not from this, and certainly not from the obsession that burned in his eyes every time they met yours.
"You're a such a fucking cheating bitch. But, you're my cheating bitch."
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List of Fandoms and Characters
Ace Attorney: N/A
Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi
Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi
Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A
Death Note: N/A
Demon Slayer: Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa
Dishonored Series: Kirin Jindosh
Genshin Impact: Ayato Kamisato, Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche
Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima, Ushijima Wakatoshi
Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill
How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A
Hunter x Hunter: Chrollo Lucilfer
I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru
Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zenin, Suguru Geto
Kill The Hero: Se Jun-Lee
Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Xavier
Naruto Shippuden: Kabuto Yakushi, Tobirama Senju
One Punch Man: Amai Mask
Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan
TOUCHSTARVED: N/A
Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans / Murder! Sans
Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar
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Yandere! Older Brother & Little Sister
Novelette 1 : Sins of the Silent Heart
You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.
🔞He says it’s love, but the scars on your skin tell a different story.
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If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.
General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk-blog1
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kryllia · 2 months ago
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A Kingdom of Ash and Cold
Yandere north prince x princess reader
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Art from pinterest
The inspiration for this story was a character from character.ai but before I finished writing this story I managed to lose the chat and now I can't find who created the character.
You had once been a princess of the South, heir to a kingdom known for its wealth, beauty, and diplomacy. Unlike the North, which thrived on war and conquest, your people valued peace. Your father, the king, had always believed that treaties and alliances were stronger than swords. But he had been wrong.
Felix, the war prince of the North, had proven that with fire and blood.
He attacked without warning. Rumors had spread that your kingdom held untold riches, that its lands were fertile and untouched by war. But more than anything, it was said that the South was weak. And Felix despised weakness.
He marched his armies through your lands like a storm, tearing through defenses with terrifying precision. Your knights fought bravely, but against Felix—who had spent his entire life mastering the art of war—they stood no chance.
Within weeks, your kingdom fell. Your father was slain in battle, your people either killed or enslaved. The grand palace that had once been filled with music and laughter now stood in ruins, a silent graveyard of the past.
And you—once a beloved princess—were now nothing more than a prisoner in the heart of the enemy’s castle.
Three days had passed since your capture.
The cold stone walls of your cell were suffocating. You had been stripped of your royal gowns, left in a simple dress meant for prisoners. The only light came from a small barred window, just enough to remind you that the world outside still existed.
Then, the heavy doors creaked open.
A man stepped inside, his very presence commanding the space. Even without his armor, he looked every bit the war prince the world feared. His golden hair gleamed in the dim torchlight, his sharp blue eyes holding an unsettling intensity.
Felix.
Your body tensed as he walked closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he enjoyed watching you squirm.
Then, he smirked. "You look cute in this cell, princess."
You didn’t respond.
Felix tilted his head, amused by your silence. "I expected you to beg for mercy by now. Most do."
You clenched your fists. You would never give him that satisfaction.
He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "I like that fire in your eyes. It makes this more fun."
Then, his smirk faded, replaced by something darker. "I’ve decided." He stepped even closer, so close you could feel his warmth. "You will be my wife. The Queen of the North."
The words struck you like a blade.
Marriage?
You had expected execution, imprisonment—anything but this.
Felix watched your reaction closely, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "I won’t force you to love me," he said, almost mockingly. "But you will be mine. One way or another."
And just like that, he turned and left, locking the door behind him.
That was when the whisper came.
"Pst... Princess."
Your head snapped up.
A guard stood near your cell. Not a Northern soldier—but a knight of the South. One of the few survivors.
"Tonight, you will run."
Your breath caught in your throat.
"Run, before it’s too late."
It's midnight the time of escape. The plan was simple: slip through the castle's hidden passageways and escape into the night. You knew Felix wouldn’t let you go easily, but if there was even a chance of freedom, you had to take it.
Night fell, and the soldier returned. With a silent nod, he unlocked your cell, gesturing for you to follow.
Every step was agonizingly slow. The castle was a maze of stone and shadows, but the soldier knew the way.
You were close. The exit was just ahead. Freedom—
"Where do you think you’re going?"
Your body froze.
Felix stood at the top of the staircase, his piercing blue eyes filled with cold fury.
The soldier drew his sword, stepping protectively in front of you. "Run, Princess!"
But you couldn’t move.
Felix moved first.
With terrifying speed, he descended the stairs, his blade flashing in the moonlight. The soldier swung, but Felix was faster.
The sound of steel meeting flesh filled the air. The soldier staggered back, blood spilling from his wound.
"No—" you gasped.
The knight collapsed. His body hit the floor, lifeless.
Felix stood over him, his sword dripping red. He turned to you, breathing heavily, his expression unreadable.
"You tried to leave me." His voice was eerily calm.
You took a step back, but it was useless. He was on you in an instant, his fingers gripping your wrist like a vice.
"I was being patient," he murmured. "I wanted you to want me. But now..." His grip tightened. "Now, you’ve forced my hand."
His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. His touch was almost gentle—almost.
"You are mine, Princess. And I do not let go of what is mine."
Two days after death of solider the North Kingdom gathered in celebration.
Felix had won the war. And now, he had claimed his prize.
You stood at the grand altar, dressed in the most exquisite Northern wedding gown. Gold and silver embroidery adorned the fabric, delicate jewels woven into every thread. But none of it felt real.
Felix stood beside you, his regal presence impossible to ignore. His golden hair framed his sharp, aristocratic features, and his blue eyes never left you—not even for a second.
You were his obsession.
Among the crowd were the last survivors of the South. They watched in silence, their faces etched with sorrow. They had lost everything, and now, they were forced to witness their princess being bound to the man who had destroyed them.
The priest spoke, but you barely heard his words.
Your mind drifted back to the soldier. The man who had died for you. The man who had given you a chance at freedom.
And then, the final words cut through your thoughts.
"The groom may kiss the bride."
Your breath caught in your throat.
Felix turned to you, his expression filled with an unsettling mix of triumph and desire.
He cupped your face, his fingers possessive against your skin. And then, he kissed you.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t gentle.
It was desperate. Hungry. Filled with a madness that made your blood run cold.
The crowd erupted into cheers, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heart pounding.
Felix pulled away, his smirk returning. His eyes locked onto yours, victorious.
"Now, my love," he whispered, "you will never escape me again."
And in that moment, as the weight of your new reality settled over you, you knew—
He was right.
You were his.
Forever.
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mysticalcrowntyrant · 25 days ago
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Rancher Yandere x Reader (Gn)
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Warnings: Abuse, kidnapping, average yandere behavior
“You’re gorgeous,” Reeves drawled, his big hazel eyes gazing up at you. If anyone had happened to catch a glimpse of the two of you, they’d likely have smiled at the sight. Him kneeling before you, chin resting on your thighs, while your fingers wandered through his messy chestnut curls. But they probably wouldn’t have noticed the metal chains around your ankles or the barred windows. They sure wouldn’t have seen the tears threatening to spill from your eyes or the ugly bruise blossoming on your cheek. But Reeves noticed. How could he not? He was the one who’d snatched you off that dusty Southern Road. The one who’d kept you here for weeks, caged like a lamb for slaughter. 
“Sweetheart?” Reeves murmured, purring like a kitten. “You ain’t smilin’.” 
You swallowed hard, brows knitting together as you forced your lips into a pitiful excuse for a smile. He liked it when you were sweet. Reeves watched your face, his gaze locking onto your dry lips. Slowly, like he was approaching a skittish critter, he brought his fingers to them. He slipped a finger inside your mouth, making your bottom lip droop. He tasted like dirt and copper. “You gonna smile for me, Sweetheart?” His frown deepened, eyes turning suddenly cold. “Or am I gonna have to teach you again?” 
You shivered and shook your head quickly. “I’m sorry.” 
Reeves sighed, his expression softening just enough to mask the darkness lurking behind it. “That’s better,” he said, drawing his finger back and wiping it on his jeanst. “Now, I’ve got to feed the cows, but you stay put, alright? Don’t go wanderin’ off.” 
You nodded, your heart racing as he stood and strode away, his boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor. The moment his back turned, the weight of your despair settled in, heavy and suffocating. The air felt thick around you. You had been planning this escape for weeks, each day loosening the bars on the window, each moment spent quietly chipping away at the chains that bound you. You had to do it tonight. 
After counting to one hundred, you approached the window. The creaking sound echoed like a gunshot in the stillness, amplifying your fear, your pulse quickening in response. With trembling hands, you grasped the edge of the window, forcing it open wider. The cool night air washed over your skin, a stark contrast to the stale, confined atmosphere of the farmhouse. It felt like freedom itself, invigorating and electric. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers. 
You slipped through the gap, heart pounding as you landed softly in the grass. You ran through the fields, the cool blades brushing against your legs. The moon hung low in the sky, illuminating your path, guiding you toward the promise of escape. The rhythm of your feet against the ground matched the frantic beat of your heart, a melody of desperation and hope intertwining. When you reached the fence marking the edge of his ranch, a flare of hope ignited within you. You could almost taste freedom, a sweet, tantalizing possibility. You were almost there. Your heart soared, urging you to leap over the barrier that separated you from the world outside. But just as you prepared to launch yourself over the top of the fence, you felt arms wrap around you, a vice grip that slammed you to the ground. The air rushed from your lungs, and the world blurred for a moment before sharpening into the harsh reality of your situation. 
“Shit!” you gasped, panic coursing through you as you struggled against his hold. His eyes blazed with fury. 
“Thought you could just run away, huh?” he growled, his voice low and menacing, dragging you back towards the farmhouse by your hair. You screamed, the sound echoing in the stillness, but the emptiness of the night swallowed your cries, leaving you feeling even more isolated. 
He secured your chains even tighter, the metal biting into your skin like a cruel reminder of your captivity. “No more walks, no more fun,” he spat, his voice laced with rage. “You need to learn your place.” Each word felt like a blow, striking at your heart and shattering any remnants of hope you clung to. 
He turned away, and the silence that followed felt suffocating, a heavy blanket wrapping around you. As despair washed over you, the tears you’d held back finally spilled over, hot and unrelenting. You sank to the floor, sobs wracking your body. 
Suddenly, Reeves was there, his presence looming like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. He knelt beside you, those big hazel eyes softening momentarily. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong. 
“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmured, his voice soothing in an unsettling way, the kind of comfort that felt like it could just as easily turn to violence. “I’m here, Sweetheart. You just got a little too wild, that’s all.” 
You felt your body tense, the dichotomy of his embrace and the chains that bound you causing your heart to shatter further. How could he be so tender and yet so cruel? The sobs turned into quiet whimpers as you melted into him, the warmth of his body conflicting with the cold reality. You wanted to recoil, to push him away, but every fiber of your being felt trapped in this paradox. 
He stroked your hair gently, the gesture both tender and invasive, whispering reassurances that felt like lies. “We’re gonna be just fine, you and me. I won’t let you go again. I promise.” The words dripped with a false sweetness that made your skin crawl. 
But as you clung to him, your heart heavy with the truth, you realized that in his twisted version of love, you were never meant to be free. You were his. Forever.
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just-some-user-hunny · 9 months ago
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The Cannibal bonded with a bastard targaryen reader ...
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This is heavily inspired by @mangled-parasite writings on their yandere hotd stuff. I wanted to go more in depth about the relationship a bastard princess reader would have with the cannibal, because the dynamics could be so diverse and interesting. The cannibal is a really interesting dragon to me as well, he's not been tames nor shows any interest in it, so I always wonder what he'd be like with a rider!
(fem! Bastard princess reader X the cannibal)
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. If you are bonded to him, he would be ruthlessly protective over you. He can feel every flicker of distress and discomfort from you, and he bares his teeth like a guard dog at whoever draws too close. Once he had decided that you were his, and he was yours, his fury when it comes to protecting you rivals hellfire. You will never have to feel fear again, nothing can even dream of touching you- lest they want to experience the nightmarish wrath of the Cannibal. It matters little to him if this threat is human, or dragon. In fact he almost welcomes it. He loves the rush of destroying whatever threatens you, the pride that fills him when he charres their remains and feasts upon them In front you- because look princess. Look how mighty he is, look how well he can fight and protect you. After his gory feast, he'll lower himself close to your little form for his praise- purring till your blood fizzles as he enjoys your pets and attention.
. Cannibal has never been a tame or passive dragon, but around you, he'll make an effort to behave. He'll stave away his urges to salivate when he captures glimpses of the smaller dragons, if it makes you happy. He'll heed your voice, your words, if only to amuse you and keep you content. However, he still has a temper- and although he may not engulf everything with wildfire, he will surely growl and roar to make people bend their knee in your presence. His bond to you is tightly knitted, so he can pick up those who are irking you or upsetting you. He shares your hatred for your father, often bearing his frightening jagged teeth at the pale man who can only endure the monstrosity of his daughter's dragon. It'll take only your word to engulf him in burning emerald flames, so for once, your father will hold his tongue.
. He is not an obedient dog, more like a feral alley cat who's taken a warming to you. There's not a force in heaven or hell that can convince him to confide anywhere near the dragon pits, not to mention his monstrous size cannot even imagine squeezing itself into that little ditch. He'll take to sleeping upon the beach, preferably away from vhager, if he wants to remain close to you. However he is known to fly off and disappear for days on end, returning when you least expect it. He is a wild dragon at heart.
. He may not melt into a big passive puppy, but he will surely let you know he likes the attention you give him. He'll croon with his snarling scarred grin, his eyes glinting as you speak to him and stay close. The attitude he has around you is stark like night and day- with others he glares ferociously and mean, but with you, he's bound by your heels.
When you approach him upon the sand of the tide, he'll lower his head to gaze upon you. he'll feel content as he looks you over, appearing docile and calm in your presence.
Your family find it terrifyingly odd whenever you approach him with so much casualty, and he simply looks at you so fondly. The dragon who has devoured oh so many wannabe dragon tamers is now treating you like a precious little treasure, and it's both awe-inspiring, and frightening. His striking emerald green eyes focus on you as you speak sweetly and softly to him, his purrs can be heard from the dragonstone gates.
. The cannibal is an ancient dragon with many years of experience, so to him, you are little more than a child in his eyes. His child.
If anything, he is more of a loving father to you than Daemon could ever be.
It's puzzling to him, at first. He has never possessed a single maternal bone in his body, having no objection to devouring unhatched eggs and even young hatched dragons to satiate his hunger- but perhaps he sees a part of him in you. That wildness to stray, the desperation to free yourself from the thorns of the targarians that dig deep into you. You may be a little gentle weepy thing, but the fact still stands. You want to be free. He can grant that.
As you claim him as a child, he'll watch you grow. Watch your face and hands become weary from the anxiety and ache of constantly being caged. You'll gradually become more and more beautiful, dripping in gems and jewellery and ornate gowns, but the sadness in your eyes hasn't changed since you were a tearful little child. He sees what they are doing- trying to keep you satiated with material desires, but he understands you deep down that nothing of that matters. You want to be anywhere else but here...
. He is an old dragon, and has a temper to him. His hunger for flesh and fire has not made him weary, and although he is scarred and withered, he is still towering in all his obsideon scaled glory. Emerald flames engulfing the sky as you ride upon his back, soaring above the clouds as pride and glory consumes him. He always despises the idea of being 'claimed' and ridden like some show pony, but he finds himself enjoying the company of his little human experiencing the rush of gliding through the heavens. He can feel your thundering heart, the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he dips and soars between terrific heights, and he can't help but grin a scarred and twisted smile, egged on by your delight of the views and freedom. Yes! This is freedom, my little princess. Let us not be chained by those targarians, this is what living is!
He certainly likes challenging you, obviously not to the point he puts you in any danger of course- but he'll dive at gut churning speeds to see what'll make you shriek. It's almost like He finds amusement out of it, perhaps getting a little kick out of challenging his rider. Once he has landed however with you safely back on the ground, he'll look at you with his gnarled smirk and expect just a little push from you. Don't take it to heart though, his princess. You'll get gently prodded and nudged by his snout to check on you to make sure you're alright. He is still protective over you, after all. His cruelty will not extend to your pain. Besides, you are more often than not riding him bareback, so he would never fly so recklessly that you'd get bucked off. Most of the time he's holding back, really.
. That is not to say that each time you climb upon his back that you will endure terror, because that is surely not the case. He loves flying with you, loves feeling your awe and wonder. It fills him with unbridled pride and ego. You can both feel freedom, and freedom is all he wants for himself and his rider alike.
. As his rider, you have a good chance of escaping the talons of your family. Who is to stop you? The mad prince, Daemon, and his blood wyrm? Cannibal could laugh at the mere thought of this deranged man challenging him with his little red pest. Even the one eyed prince and his ancient she-dragon, Vhagar, will be a welcomed challenge. When it comes to you, he'd do anything.
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jellykyunnie · 11 months ago
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˗ˏˋ Jinwoo Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
・┆✦ Entry : 028 ✦ ┆・
‼️[ TW: Implied Yandere Jinwoo, suggestive end <3]
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╰┈➤ ❝ [ Jealous. Jealous Jealous. ] ¡! ❞
What kind of rage is more terrifying than one that is being displayed in the open like a volcanic eruption? 
The type that is silent.
The kind of rage akin to that of a blazing flame that sits beneath calm serene water free of ripples. The kind of fury hidden inside a doll that has been abused and thrown by its own, developing a curse within it’s porcelain glass that is pristine and free of cracks
That was the kind of rage Jinwoo holds beneath his expressionless exterior.
Though his empty grey orbs displayed nothing, there was an undesirable wish to set everything ablaze. To bathe this glorious ballroom in brilliant dancing embers.
Oh but he had to hold back. 
He has to.
After all, his beloved is currently attending as a plus-one in this small gathering of hunters and celebrities alike are present. Jinwoo never really thought much of it, he invited you since for one; you are his lover. Two; he wanted to show you off to the world.
Sure, you could say that he’s doing that just to prove to everyone that he loves you more than anything or to perhaps end the rumours that he is secretly dating famous actresses or some rich girl or someone else. But all those things came in second really. His real priority was to see you dressed up pretty.
Of course, you’re always been pretty in Jinwoo’s eyes. Your figure dressed in an outfit that accentuates your beautiful body. Meek but elegant jewellery on your ears and most importantly— Your pretty face gleaming underneath the brilliant lights in this ballroom. The golden glow on your face just made you more endearing.
You are the apple of Jinwoo’s eyes.
But ah… You two aren’t alone in this little gathering.
People kept approaching you. At first, it was merely small talk and greetings. Nothing really wrong with that. But Jinwoo was perceptive. Too perceptive.
He knew how men do their things, he isn’t that stupid since he is one himself.
He could see the way those grimy bastards flashed you their charming smiles. How their hands were twitching to rub their digits over your skin that only he is allowed to ever touch.
Ah… Jinwoo could feel his head about to burst the more he watches the men flock over you for your favour.
He tried to stay calm really, but the more the seconds ticked by, the more he watched them try to woo you over— He wanted to call over his children and maul them over to death.
Jinwoo stayed in his spot, with hazy grey orbs so far gone in the stirring rage brewing within his stiff body.
The moment he spots someone about to land a palm on your lovely waist— Jinwoo charges forward and stops the hand. His hazy grey orbs now glowing with a terrifying hue of purple.
“Well aren’t you having a good time?” Jinwoo says with his low voice, warning and daring the bastard to do something. 
The man stiffened, paling at the up-close sight of the shadow monarch that is craving to put an end to his life right then and there. Jinwoo has the look that could kill, even his eyes can be enough to put your 6-feet under.
As Jinwoo roughly let go of the man’s hand before wiping his palms and then extending it towards you. 
Of course, you obediently take his palm. The moment he felt your skin, Jinwoo flicked his head to the host and said; “It’s late, my lover is not a fan of staying up late at night. We’ll be on our way now”
Without even batting an eye back to the crowd that froze due to his ministrations.
Jinwoo would have been calm when you both arrived home. But you kept talking about the famous celebrities who  were polite to you. The way you smiled was endearing but irritating at the same time because someone else is causing you to make such a pretty expression.
You didn’t even stop even as you both arrived in your bedroom. 
Eventually, Jinwoo would lose his patience and there would be a visible shift in his eyes.
Eyes had always been mirrors to the soul, and Jinwoo for one— Had especially expressive ones. His blank face may be devoid of anything but his eyes would always manage to show what he really feels.
The way his grey orbs are sweeping over you right now, it was dominating. It was as if Jinwoo was holding back a destructive dam, threatening to swallow him whole and then bursting.
“So, you find that Mr. Cheong is charming?” Jinwoo cocks up an eyebrow, putting one step in front of the other— Causing you to step back with the sudden overwhelming feel of Jinwoo’s shift in his demeanour. “You seem so entranced by his gentle and witty personality, in contrast to me, who is gloomy and awkward.”
You end up stumbling backwards, sitting down on the chair behind you and Jinwoo leaned forward, his hands resting on either side of the armchairs— Caging you down as he cocks up an eyebrow, teasing you to answer him.
“Hm?” Jinwoo muses, lifting his hand out to touch your hand— Making you all the more flustered and confused at his actions. “Maybe I should start reminding you some stuff, baby. Your memory has gotten a bit… Foggy.”
He mumbles, lifting your hand up to his lips and kissing your palm, then your knuckles, then to each digit before his gaze swept up to you again. Those intense, grey eyes, boring into your very soul— Piercing every cell in your very being. It was hypnotising, as if you were a snake being seduced by the sounds of a wind instrument.
The way he was hovering above your head, those ebony black locks of his falling forward as he hovered right above you— You could feel tingles starting from the very soles of your feet rising to your very heart that was already thumping so madly.
Oh you knew, you knew,.. you’re in for one hell of a marathon with the monarch.
“I won’t promise I’ll be gentle, and neither will I promise this punishment will only take one night”
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ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧・゚: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
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heliosunny · 8 days ago
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pls pls pls yandere!blade?? 👀👀i love the lucky egg one of him 🫣
Yandere!Blade x Reader
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The rain hadn’t stopped all evening, and the alleyway smelled of damp earth. You hadn’t planned on stopping, but the faint sound of something rustling near a pile of discarded crates caught your attention.
A cat—if you could even call it that—lay there, drenched and motionless. Its sleek black fur was matted with rain and speckled with blood, its body tense despite the clear exhaustion weighing it down. But what struck you most were its eyes—piercing crimson, burning with unmistakable fury.
When you took a cautious step forward, the cat let out a low, warning growl. Its ears flattened, tail flicking sharply despite its weakened state.
You crouched down slowly, keeping your hands in view. “Easy… I’m not going to hurt you.”
It didn’t believe you. Even now, it refused to appear weak.
A sigh escaped your lips as you reached into your bag, pulling out a piece of cloth. “You’re hurt. If I leave you here, you’ll only get worse.”
The cat didn’t move. Carefully, you extended the cloth toward it.
For a long moment, it simply stared. Then, ever so slightly, the rigid tension in its shoulders eased. It wasn’t trust, not yet. But it was something.
And that was enough for now.
Bringing the cat home had been the easy part. Getting it to actually accept your help? That was another story entirely.
The moment you stepped through your front door, the black-furred creature tried to wriggle out of your grasp. You set it down gently on a pile of fresh towels, but it still glared at you with pure contempt, eyes practically screaming, Don’t touch me.
“You’re really something, huh?” you mused, grabbing the first aid kit. “I’m trying to help, you know.”
The cat didn’t respond, obviously, but the way it flicked its tail and tensed when you got closer made its thoughts clear enough. You started tending to its wounds, expecting it to lash out at any moment. It never did.
But as days passed, something changed. The hostility remained, but it grew quieter. The cat still refused to be held, but it no longer flinched when you reached out. It tolerated you.
And then one night, after a particularly stubborn staring contest, you found deep scratch marks on the wooden floor. Letters, etched with deliberate precision.
B L A D E
You blinked. Then looked at the cat, who sat there with an expression that somehow felt smug.
“You’re smart for a cat” you murmured, watching as it flicked an ear in response.
But instead of calling it Blade, you tilted your head and smirked. “Bladie, huh?”
The cat’s tail flicked, and it shot you the nastiest glare you’d ever seen.
From that moment on, the name stuck.
Even after it healed—after it was strong enough to leave—Bladie never did. You expected it to slip out the door one day, disappearing back into the streets, but it never came. Instead, it lingered. At night, you’d wake up to find it curled up at your feet.
-----
The moment you stepped through the door, you practically beamed with excitement. “Bladie! Guess what? I got myself a boyfriend!”
The black-furred cat sat atop the windowsill, bathed in the dim evening light, tail lazily flicking as it watched you.
You pursed your lips, placing your hands on your hips. “Wow, nothing? No hissing? No dramatic reactions? I thought you’d at least look offended.”
Maybe you were just joking. Or maybe this supposed ‘boyfriend’ wasn’t even worth acknowledging.
But then the next day came.
And you—of all things—brought Blade with you on a date.
You had tucked him into your arms, treating him like some pampered pet, completely unaware of the way his gaze sharpened the moment he saw the man waiting for you at the café.
This man—this supposed ‘boyfriend’—was pathetic.
Everything about him screamed weakness.
Useless.
And yet you sat there, sipping your drink, completely oblivious.
Blade’s tail flicked once. Twice. If this man thought he’d be keeping you, he was sorely mistaken.
“I’ll be right back, Bladie. Be nice, okay?”
You ruffled the fur between his ears before heading off to the bathroom, completely unaware of the tension crackling in the air the moment you left.
The man—your so-called boyfriend—let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. Then, just as quickly, his friendly mask cracked. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.
“Well, well… What are the chances?”
“You look miserable like this” the man mused, tapping a finger against the table. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?”
The man smirked. “What, nothing to say? Oh, that’s right..you can’t.” His voice was full of mockery. “Maybe I should tell them the truth? I bet they’d love to know what kind of monster they’ve been-”
It happened in an instant.
Blade's claws sank deep into the man’s forearm before he could react. The wizard yelped, jerking back, but Blade didn’t let go. His fangs sank into the man's flesh.
"Tch—! Damn beast—!"
Chairs screeched. Silverware clattered. The café burst into chaos as Blade tore into the man, aiming for veins, for weak points. His claws raked across the wizard’s cheek, leaving deep, bleeding gashes.
The wizard barely managed to shove him off, staggering back.
The wizard cursed under his breath, wiping the blood from his face. “You should’ve stayed a stray.”
Blade growled low in his throat. If this man thought he could take you, manipulate you, he was dead wrong.
The café was a disaster.
Tables overturned. Chairs knocked aside. Silverware scattered across the floor. Your so-called boyfriend stood there, pale-faced, clutching his bleeding arm. And in the center of it all sat Blade.
You were speechless.
What the hell had happened while you were gone?
The manager was already shouting, other customers whispering, but you barely heard them as you marched over and scooped Blade into your arms. He didn’t resist—just let himself be carried, still eerily stiff, still glaring daggers at the man.
You didn’t say a word. You just turned and left.
----
That night, the moon was full, bathing your room in silver light.
Blade lay curled at the foot of your bed, unmoving. You sighed, shifting under the blankets.
“What am I gonna do with you…” you mumbled, “I should be mad, you know. That was crazy.”
Then, in the dead of night, something changed.
Where there had been a small, black-furred cat…Now stood a man.
Blade flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of his true form again. His expression remained unreadable as he took a slow step toward your sleeping figure.
Blade knew his time was short.
The moment he had awoken in his human form, he had felt it—the lingering pull of the curse, the weight pressing against his chest, ready to drag him back into that pathetic, weak cat body. He refused to let that happen. Not when he had finally regained himself. Not when the man who did this to him still breathed.
He left silently, slipping through the open window into the night, vanishing beneath the full moon’s gaze.
The wizard wouldn’t have gone far.
The scent of blood led him straight to his target.
The wizard sat in an abandoned house, muttering under his breath, fingers weaving through the air as he tried to reinforce his spells. His wounds from earlier were hastily bandaged, but Blade could see the sluggish way he moved.
The wizard’s head snapped up, “You—!”
The wizard barely managed to conjure a barrier, sparks flying as Blade’s weapon crashed against it. The force sent him stumbling back, and Blade didn’t let up—
The wizard threw a desperate bolt of energy, but Blade twisted mid-step, dodging effortlessly before lunging, grabbing the man by the throat and slamming him against the wall. Blood smeared across the stone.
The wizard gasped, clawing at Blade’s grip.
“You thought you could reduce me to nothing?”
Without hesitation, Blade drove his sword straight through the wizard’s chest. “Fool.”
The wizard let out a strangled gasp before finally going limp.
The curse was broken.
Or at least… it should have been.
But as Blade took a step back, he felt it—that familiar aura.
His body shrank, fur replaced skin, claws replaced fingers. His vision lowered as the world warped around him.
And just like that, he was back in that miserable, feline form.
So killing the wizard wasn’t enough.
Then what the hell was?
----
By the time Blade returned to your side, he was full.
The wizard had been weak, but at least he had been useful in one regard—his body had provided a satisfying meal. It wasn’t the first time Blade had consumed flesh, nor would it be the last, but there was something particularly enjoyable about devouring the man who had cursed him.
And now, with his hunger dealt with, exhaustion settled in.
The entire day passed like that. He barely moved, barely opened his eyes, simply existed in his comfortable, satisfied state.
You, of course, were clueless.
“Oh my god, Bladie, are you sick?”
You had hovered over him in concern when evening came, poking at his fur. He cracked open an eye, unimpressed.
“You never sleep this much. Did you eat something weird?”
At that, his tail twitched. If only you knew.
The curse hadn’t lifted.
Even after killing the wizard, even after ripping him apart with his own fangs, nothing had changed. He was still bound to this ridiculous form.
To break the curse…
He needed a true love’s kiss.
Blade almost vomited at the thought, but what else can he do.
He had spent years rejecting such foolish, sentimental nonsense. Love? Affection? Worthless. He had never needed such things.
And yet, now, it was the only way he could think of.
If this was what it took, then he would endure it.
But there was a problem.
You, in all your obliviousness, had no idea.
So under the limitations of his cat form, Blade began to subtly encourage you.
More physical contact. More attempts to be endearing. More ways to push you into doing what needed to be done.
You, of course, noticed the difference immediately.
“Bladie, what’s gotten into you?” you murmured one night as he climbed onto your chest, pressing his forehead against yours. “You never do this.”
He stared at you, crimson eyes unblinking.
“…Are you trying to tell me something?”
Yes. Obviously. Hurry up.
Instead, you just laughed, scratching under his chin. “You’re acting like you actually like me or something. Did I feed you something weird?”
Blade resisted the urge to dig his claws into your shirt in frustration.
This was going to be harder than he thought.
Blade had never known true suffering until now.
Days passed, and you remained completely, hopelessly clueless. No matter what he did, you simply dismissed it as odd behavior, laughing at his attempts instead of realizing the obvious.
He nuzzled against your cheek? You cooed about how adorable he was.
He pressed his forehead against your lips, waiting? You thought he just wanted attention.
He climbed onto your lap, curling up and flicking his tail in an almost inviting manner? You took a damn picture and posted it online, calling him the “cuddliest little guy.”
Blade wanted to scream.
But he was determined.
So he tried everything.
He’d stretch lazily across your desk while you worked, rolling just enough so you’d notice the perfect placement for a forehead kiss.
He’d ‘accidentally’ brush his face against your lips while you were half-asleep, but instead of kissing him, you just muttered, “Ugh, Bladie, your fur is all over my face…” and rolled away.
He even went as far as faking slight injuries, limping over to you with the most pitiful look he could muster.
You panicked. Rushed to his side. Held him carefully.
“Oh no, you might be sick! I should take you to a vet.”
…Wait.
What?
That was how Blade found himself at an animal clinic, held in your arms as some stranger in a white coat examined him like he was nothing more than a common housecat.
“Nothing’s wrong with him” the vet finally said, shaking their head. “He’s perfectly healthy. Probably just being clingy.”
You sighed in relief. “Oh, thank god. I was worried.”
Blade, meanwhile, wanted to die.
You had just wasted hours of his time—his precious, limited time—only for a vet to confirm what he already knew.
By the time you brought him back home, he was done.
This was pointless. Completely, utterly pointless.
He gave up.
But then, the unthinkable happened.
That evening, you got a message from your friends. Some last-minute invitation to hang out.
And without hesitation, you grabbed your bag, ruffled Blade’s fur, and left.
Just like that.
Blade sat there in stunned silence, staring at the door.
He was alone.
For the first time in weeks, you had left him by himself.
…Oh.
Oh.
If you could leave him once, you could leave him again.
And that… was unacceptable.
The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Blade wasted no time.
He leapt onto the windowsill, tail flicking with irritation as he tracked your scent. It wasn’t difficult. He had spent his time memorizing everything about you.
Finding you was laughably easy.
Your friends surrounded you, their presence invading what was his.
No.
They had to go.
The first one left quickly.
A minor inconvenience, really. All it took was a perfectly timed ‘accident’—a tipped-over drink spilling onto their lap. They yelped, cursing under their breath, and excused themselves to clean up.
The second was harder.
They were persistent, staying far too close, their gaze lingering on you in a way that made Blade’s claws twitch. So he stepped things up- A sprained ankle.
Another one gone.
One by one, they left.
Some to clean up a mess, some to answer an urgent call, some simply feeling an inexplicable unease clawing at their senses, whispering to them that it was time to leave.
And eventually…
It was just you.
You frowned, looking around in confusion. “Huh? Where did everyone go?”
Finally.
Now, all that was left… was to bring you back.
A familiar tug at your sleeve.
“Bladie?”
Your cat had somehow found you, his small black paws gripping your sleeve, tail flicking in agitation.
“Did you follow me all the way here?” you sighed, bending down to scoop him up. “You really don’t like being left alone, huh?”
But before your hands could reach him—
Before your eyes, the small form of your cat twisted, stretching, warping. Fur faded into skin, limbs lengthened, dark robes manifesting around a lean, powerful frame.
A man.
“…Bladie?”
“Took you long enough.”
The moment your brain finally caught up with what you were seeing, panic hit.
You screamed.
Then, before you could think, before you could rationalize, your body moved on instinct. You didn’t care about the stares of the people nearby. You didn’t care about the fact that you had just left Bladie—or whoever that was—behind. Your legs just moved, carrying you as far away from that impossible, terrifying sight as possible.
That’s not real. That’s not real. That’s not—
A sudden rush of wind behind you.
Something grabbed you. You barely had time to react before a sharp tug yanked you backward, knocking you off balance.
Bladie—no, Blade.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
And before you could say a word, his hand cupped your jaw and he kissed you.
You gasped, hands instinctively pushing at his chest, but it didn’t matter—because the moment his lips touched yours—His body lit with a strange, pulsing energy, golden threads wrapping around his form, weaving light into his skin. But not for long, later, the glow flickered. Then shattered.
Like glass splintering under pressure, the light broke apart—and in its place, you watched in horror as his body shrunk.
He was a cat again.
Just a cat.
“Oh my god, oh my god—Bladie!” you hissed, scooping him up into your arms like he hadn’t just assaulted your lips in public, “What the hell was that?!”
He let out a furious yowl, clawing weakly at your sleeves like he was trying to explain himself but had no words.
“No—don’t you dare yell at me right now, mister! You’re the one who—we need to go!”
You held him close, bolting down the street in a panic, heart still thundering in your chest.
“Please let no one have recorded that—oh my god—”
Blade buried his face into your arm in pure shame.
This was not how that was supposed to go.
Your feet had barely hit the floor of your apartment before you dropped Blade onto the couch, hands on your hips, pacing in a frantic spiral of frustration and disbelief.
“I kissed my cat.” You clutched your head. “In public! In front of people!”
Blade, now a thoroughly pissed-off ball of fur, sat sulking with his ears flat, tail lashing violently across the cushions.
“And you—what even was that?! You’re not just some weird guy with a curse—you kissed me! You turned into a man, kissed me, turned back, and meowed like it was my fault?!”
He meowed again—defensive.
“Don’t ‘meow’ at me!” you snapped, pointing at him like he was on trial. “I’ve let you sleep in my bed, eat my food, ruin my curtains, and now I find out you’re not only human but also a problematic one?! I’ve been out here feeding wet food to some man disguised as a floofy stray!”
Blade flopped over dramatically, tail still twitching. He would’ve flipped you off if he had fingers.
You groaned, flopping down beside him, hand dragging over your face. “This is… this is too much.”
That’s when the window shattered.
You didn’t even have time to scream before the shadows surged in.
Hooded figures in blood-dark robes, sigils glowing faintly on their skin, their voices hissing in a language that made your bones ache. You were shoved to the ground. Another snatched Blade, forcing him into a glowing cage that hissed with energy and burned his fur.
Then everything vanished.
In a breath.
You landed in a dusty, crumbling tower, stone walls etched in cursed runes.
You tried to scream for him, but they yanked you away.
When Blade woke up, his body was human again. His wrists burned where the magical shackles bound him, but his expression was blank—bored, even—as the cultists circled like vultures.
“You killed one of our own” one of them hissed. “The curse you were bound to—it was ours to control.” “You consumed his flesh” another said, voice quivering with disgust and reverence. “That’s an ancient taboo. Even for us.”
Blade shrugged. “Tasted better than he looked.”
They didn’t like that. Several took a step back, one nearly gagged.
“The sentence is death.”
“Great” Blade muttered, rolling his eyes. “Let’s skip the ceremony and get to it.”
“And your owner corrupted with your presence… They will be executed alongside you.”
“What?”
“They took you in. Sheltered you.”
“You’ll burn together”
“You picked the wrong bargaining chip.”
The tower shuddered.
Blade… no longer looked bored.
“I warned him…” he murmured low, as if to himself. “Told him I’d kill everyone.”
The shackles cracked.
A cultist stepped back. “He’s—he’s breaking containment—!”
Snap.
One cuff shattered, then the other. A surge of corrupted energy burst from Blade’s core, black and red streaks tearing through the air like living claws. And Blade rose, his long hair flowing with the sheer force of pressure now rolling off his body.
“You should’ve touched me” he whispered. “But you threatened Y/N.”
The first to die barely saw it coming.
Blade moved and punched through the cultist’s chest—his bare hand ripping out a still-beating heart with such force the ribs cracked outward like shattered wood. He dropped the organ.
The second tried to cast a binding spell, but Blade was on him in a blink, his nails extending into claws. He slashed across the man’s face, slicing the top half clean from the bottom. Skull and jawbone split open like ripe fruit, blood spraying in an arc across the stone walls.
Blade enjoyed this.
A woman tried to flee. Her legs carried her nearly to the stairs before Blade’s shadow stretched unnaturally, and something reached from it— A clawed hand gripped her ankle.
“No—NO—!”
Her screams were cut short when Blade’s boot came down hard on her throat—once. Then again. And again.
Her windpipe crushed. She gurgled as blood spilled from her nose and mouth, eyes wide with horror as her final moments played out beneath the heel of the creature she helped summon.
“You can’t kill us all—!” one screamed.
Blade tilted his head. “Watch me.”
He lifted his hand—energy surging through his arm like fire. A spike of steel tore through the stone floor and impaled one through the gut, lifting him into the air where he writhed like a pinned insect.
The final cultist turned to run—only for Blade to appear behind him.
“I should keep you alive,” he murmured, claw tapping the man’s cheek, “but I’m done being kind.”
Then he tore his throat out with his teeth.
The man gurgled, choking on his own blood, before falling to his knees—eyes still wide in disbelief.
The tower stank of blood and fear.
Corpses were scattered like broken dolls.
“…You better be safe.”
And with that, he turned to find you.
Blade moved through the carnage.
Two more cultists emerged from an upper level, unaware of what lay below. They were mid-conversation, arguing about keeping you under control.
With a blur of motion, Blade appeared before them like a phantom.
Blade’s hand snapped forward and seized the man’s wrist, yanking it forward.
“Wha—?!”
The cultist screamed as his own fingers were twisted into a casting sigil.
“Don’t waste it” Blade growled.
He forced the man’s hand forward like a weapon—aimed it at the other cultist and triggered the spell before the man could resist. A streak of cursed lightning blasted the second cultist straight into the wall, caving in his chest on impact. The body slumped down in a mangled pile of meat and robes.
“P-Please—”
“…You helped them cage Y/N”
“No—I didn’t mean to—!”
Blade ripped the man’s arm from its socket, using his own spell-casting hand to burn his face off.
He tossed the scorched corpse aside and kept walking.
Room after room, hallway after hallway—he tore through the place, destroying anyone who dared to appear in front of him.
From above.
Blade’s head snapped up. He heard a scream.
There was a sharp gust of wind—stone crumbling from the high spire—and when he ran to the window, what he saw made his blood boil.
You—held at the edge of the highest balcony by another cultist. Wind whipping your hair, your arms flailing as you kicked and screamed—
“Let go of me!!”
The robed figure hissed something in an arcane tongue, clearly intending to toss you over as a final punishment—
Blade launched himself out the window. The wind howled in his ears, but his eyes were locked on you. You were falling now, pushed over the edge—screaming, plummeting.
And he caught you mid-air, arms wrapped tight around your waist, bodies spinning violently from the momentum. You crashed down hard on a stone ledge below, but Blade took the brunt—grunting, blood splattering from his mouth as his back slammed against the stone.
But you were alive.
Held tight in his arms.
“…You alright?”
You blinked in shock. Your hands gripped the front of his blood-soaked robes as you stared up at his face.
“…Bladie?”
Blade pulled away from you, his grip lingering for a moment longer before he stood.
“Stay here,” he ordered, “I’ll clear out the rest.”
He vanished into the shadows like a wraith.
And you… sat there, wrapping your arms around yourself, staring at the blood smeared on your hands and clothes.
What were you supposed to feel?
What were you supposed to think?
Just days ago, he was your stray cat—your grumpy, clingy, ridiculous little Bladie. Now…
Now, you had seen him rip people apart like paper.
Your hands clenched.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The sounds of slaughter echoed distantly—cries of agony, bones snapping, wet thuds against stone.
And he finally returned.
Blade stood before you, drenched in the aftermath of his rampage—His eyes still gleamed with the remnants of battle, but they softened—just slightly—when they met yours.
You didn’t speak. Didn’t move.
Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.
His lips, tainted with the scent of iron, pressed against yours.
You shoved him back instantly, your pulse spiking.
“What was that for?!” you gasped, wiping your mouth instinctively, the taste of blood lingering.
Blade blinked, entirely unaffected by your reaction. “To see if I changed back.”
You stared at him.
“…And?”
He lifted his hands—still human. Flexed his fingers—still normal. Glanced down at himself—same old, blood-covered menace.
Everything was normal.
His lips twitched upward, just barely. “Guess I’m stuck like this.”
You exhaled sharply, rubbing your temples. “I cannot deal with this right now.”
“Then don’t.” He tilted his head, “Let's go home.”
“…Home?”
He nodded once.
He wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.
No matter how much you tried to process everything that happened
No matter how much you questioned reality itself
Blade was going to follow you home.
Just like he always did.
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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year ago
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she walks in beauty.
🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.
yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.
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Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.
However, Diluc was no longer a young child.
Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.
His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.
Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.
And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.
His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.
As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.
He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-
Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.
Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.
"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-
Do not keep me as a prisoner!"
He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.
But that was not how things were going to play out.
Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.
He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.
But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.
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🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149
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Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.
1K notes · View notes
yanderes-galore · 2 years ago
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Based on an idea I thought of, I just had to get something down since I have to wait a bit. Sorry the banner is bad, I wasn't sure how to make it for this AU? This is mostly just me throwing out ideas so I have some down.
Yandere! Night Fury Hybrid! Hiccup Haddock Concept/Thoughts
(HTTYD Hybrid AU)
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Animalistic yandere, Possessive behavior, Human/Hybrid, Manipulation, Biting, Dubious cuddling, Forced relationship implied, Mentions of mates, Guilt tripping, Violence, Mentioned murder, Kidnapping.
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I feel at first we should be discussing how he'd look and act.
In terms of how he'd look it can very depending on your preference.
Personally I'd imagine he'd have the "ear horns" like Night Furies.
Then he'd have the wings, claws, and tail.
Maybe he even has the sharp teeth, retractable or not.
He could also have the eyes of a Night Fury, making him look relatively cat-like.
Probably also sleeps upside down.
Maybe you can place some black scales around his body but he still has human skin in some places?
That's a very general idea on what Hiccup could look like as a Night Fury hybrid.
In terms of behavior I'd imagine he'd act similarly to a Night Fury (shocker, I know).
He's stealthy, fast, and can use plasma bolts.
He probably purrs and growls when content.
Something I'm debating on is how he'd communicate with you.
There's three routes you could take with it.
The first one is he doesn't know any human language and communicates through actions or growls.
The second one is he knows limited language to communicate.
For the second one it could start with no language learned and you teach him it, or he knew it by observation of other humans.
The third is he knows fluent language, maybe not yours or maybe it is, but he can talk.
Don't get me wrong, regardless on how he communicates, he's still just as intelligent as your usual human.
Another thing that's dubious about the AU is if there is actual regular dragons.
There could be three separate factions (Humans, Hybrids, Dragons).
Naturally hybrids would be more attuned to dragons due to similarities.
It's that or there's only two factions (Humans and Hybrids), which have been at war for decades.
This is still a very new AU so "AU canon" is still unclear.
Honestly, the most exciting part of this is Night Furies in canon mate for life.
The same most likely goes for hybrids.
So I imagine once Hiccup is attached he plans to never leave you.
Plus, hybrids are most likely possessive similar to dragons.
Now, I feel you could meet Hiccup in many ways.
My favorite though? Maybe you even mirror how he meets Toothless in canon.
Maybe when you two are young (Hiccup's age in HTTYD 1), you help him with an injury.
Then you two slowly bond until you're both in your 20's.
Ever since you saved him he has been a companion by your side.
I imagine you could fly with hybrids but due to their humanoid form, they'd just carry you-
So instead of Hiccup finding a Light Fury hybrid to have a relationship with, he chooses you.
Hybrids would be compatible with humans most likely.
The first hybrid's origins are unknown, but it is implied they take human partners at times.
I can imagine when you're both 21 you try to find him a compatible mate or encourage it.
Meanwhile he doesn't want anyone but you.
Even since you were young, the hybrid knew you were the one for him.
He has never parted from you and your own father wonders what his intentions are.
I imagine when you were young it took awhile to warm up to each other, just like in HTTYD 1.
Hiccup starts off wary of you, wondering if you're safe to trust.
Then by the end of it he vows to protect and cherish you.
You'd both be teens then but your relationship between each other would start off as just companions.
However, this would be the first little seeds of his crush.
It's when you start getting older, reaching 18 and your 20's that he starts inching closer.
He often purrs around you and tries his best to understand your culture.
He craves your touch, often putting your hand on his cheek for comfort.
When you're both adults he probably starts showing behavior akin to wanting a mate.
He may try ro manipulate you into it, claiming you're the closest one to him.
He tries to make it sound like he'd be lonely forever if you don't accept his courting.
He claims he wants to hold you close and cuddle you for warmth since his kind hate the cold.
Yet you can tell by the way he wraps his tail around your waist that isn't quite it.
I imagine he'd bite you to mark you and often gets aggressive towards other humans and hybrids around you.
Hiccup may even share Toothless traits, like being the last Night Fury Hybrid in the world... right now.
Maybe you can help with that, hm? (If you're able)
In terms of if he'd murder, maybe.
He doesn't want to ruin your trust and any form of murder would be accidental.
Like if something blinded him with rage or he allowed his possessive behavior to take over.
Even then he personally may not feel bad for it, but acts remorseful to have your forgiveness.
Kidnapping? Again, a maybe.
For a Night Fury he's rather soft personality wise.
He'd be willing to live with you if you wished, then he could be more attuned to human culture.
Yet if someone tried to steal you from him then he's feel unsafe.
Feeling unsafe may lead to a stray plasma blast striking someone down or burning your home.
Which means he'll have to carry you to somewhere he can properly provide for you.
As a hybrid his diet is mostly fish or whatever Night Furies eat.
However, he could have human food too due to being partially human.
Hiccup would try to keep track of what humans need to provide for you.
When he wants affection he'll nuzzle into you, lay his larger body on top of you, and purr.
Like actual Night Furies, he acts like cats and bats.
Which means it's a bit strange to see him sleeping upside down at first.
Overall, Hiccup as a hybrid would retain his usual persona and a bit of Toothless.
He's a hunter... and your companion for life.
You may not like what he has in store for you, but he promises he does it out of love.
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starboye · 7 months ago
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starring: soldier boy x male reader
request: Can you do yandere or normal soldier boy x male reader in current times preferably sfw
warnings: fluffy writing, mentions of sex
yandere!soldier boy who saw you at a bar a little while after waking from his coma and instantly he was smitten by your handsome looks.
yandere!soldier boy who then approached you and tried to chat his way up with you but with the talking and flirting skills of the 1980's he didn't really stand a chance.
yandere!soldier boy who was surprised when you took him back to your place after only an hour of talking to each other (maybe it was because you were drunk).
yandere!soldier boy who ended up having an eye opening sexual experience with you, i mean he had an eye for guys but he never persuaded that but with being in a coma for 40 years he needed someone now.
yandere!soldier boy who after a couple more late night calls decides to confess his feelings and you both start dating.
yandere!soldier boy who if he sees another man even gaze at you will feel the fury of a thousand bulls, feeling like he could kill them the and there.
yandere!soldier boy who only calms down when you approach him with sweet words and gentle touches, that of which he never got from anyone else.
yandere!soldier boy who would legitimately kill for you if anyone dared touch you in a harming way and you knew he would.
yandere!soldier boy who loves your soft touches and kisses, sometimes he'd come sit his head on your lap just so you can run your fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp.
yandere!soldier boy who you once found sleeping in you bed when you were out working and when you asked him he said he just wanted to feel you but you were gone.
yandere!soldier boy who fully wraps you in his strong arms when you guys sleep together from the fear that you might abandon him in the middle of the night although you've told him numerous time you never would.
yandere!soldier boy who took a while to open up to you about his true super life but that never wavered your love for him (if anything it made you want him more).
taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft
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reignpage · 5 months ago
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College student!Sukuna
23:54pm: three’s a crowd
warnings: 18+ mdni, stalking, trespassing, voyeurism, yandere!sukuna, pervy!sukuna, nonconsensual recording, mentions of panty stealing, mild act of violence, masturbation, not proofread
college student!sukuna had been deathly quiet since shoko squealed about your date with a guy on your course to the rest of the group. everyone was over at gojo’s frat house for drinks, just the ‘inner circle’ (gojo’s words), to catch up. and for reasons that continue to elude you, your bff thought it would be the funniest thing ever to make you reveal your plans over a stupid game of truth or dare. 
you couldn’t bring yourself to glance at college student!sukuna whilst the group howled and wolf-whistled. perhaps it was because you knew there would be no reason to; he isn’t your boyfriend, you owe him nothing. but maybe, just maybe, it was because you weren’t brave enough to find the answer to a question you had been asking yourself when you said yes to your classmate. 
would he care?
it would, undoubtedly, break your heart if he was cheering you on just like everyone else. so, after the events of last night, you go to your date with an excitement that didn’t come naturally, like a plastic mask, rigid and cheap. but you enjoy yourself regardless - he’s sweet, kind and cute in a boy-next-door type of way. he makes you laugh, he opens doors and pays for dinner. 
of course, you don’t plan on inviting him up to your apartment, even if shoko had excused herself for the night with a salacious wink, choosing to room with utahime to ‘cleanse’ themselves from ‘male energy’. but when you make the mistake of viewing gojo’s story just as he’s dropping you off at your door and see that your friend’s at yet another party, you change your mind. 
because there in the background is college student!sukuna with a girl clinging to his shirt with her leg thrown over his lap and her face buried in his neck. in a flurry of hastily thrown clothes and clumsy clashing of teeth, you wind up in your bed with this boy before you even realise that your front door had been unlocked. 
college student!sukuna wasn’t pleased to hear the news, to say the least. what you hadn’t seen was the flex of his jaw, the tick of his brow and the darkening look in his eyes. he decided there and then that he was going to ruin your plans. at first, he figured he could crash your date or spread rumours the guy had an std or a micro-penis. but then he thought he should let the boy take you on a date so you could at least get a free dinner, his girl shouldn’t go hungry after all. 
college student!sukuna chose to distract himself by tagging along with the guys to a sorority party, allowed a girl to touch him up so he could pretend it was him you were with. 
but then a thought occurred to him; a free dinner might not be all the guy would offer. with a sudden fury, he threw aside the girl whose name he never actually heard, nor asked for, and drove over to your place. he had a spare key made that neither you nor shoko knew about, so he let himself in, planning to sit on the sofa, fists ready to be thrown if someone other than you (or shoko) came through the door. 
that was he had originally planned. 
college student!sukuna hadn’t intended to be distracted by the realisation that your room would be empty. he was just going to sniff your pillows and rifle through your dirty laundry basket for new material. he hadn’t meant to be distracted by a lingerie set hanging in your closet. so when he heard the sudden rush of footsteps he made the split decision to tuck himself away with your clothes, leaving a crack for him to peer through. 
so there he is, fighting the urge to drag that stupid guy off you and replace him with his own body. he knows for a fact he can make you feel so much better than that loser. guy didn’t even bother eating you out, didn’t look up from your tits to see if your face is scrunched up from pleasure. certainly doesn’t even think to suffocate you with his mouth and tongue or to bend you into different positions to leave you sore all over. 
you’re only in your bra and your skirt’s pooling over your waist whilst the guy thrusts without any kind of rhythm into you. he’s sweaty and loud, like a pig, and you hate the feeling of his baby-soft, clammy hands on your skin and the high pitched whining in your ear. you find yourself craving rough palms gripping your hips, low growls vibrating through your bones, hard muscles pinning you down to the bed, maybe a hand pressing you into your pillows as you get plowed down with relentless thrusts. 
why did you let jealousy fuel your actions?
possibly one of the stupidest things you’d ever done. 
college student!sukuna agrees. he knows you’re regretting it, can tell by the half-hearted moans you’re pushing out, by your limp arms, and by the fact that the guy comes only a couple minutes later. the noticeable annoyance on your face might make him laugh if it isn’t for the incessant throbbing in his jeans. 
it doesn’t even occur to him to be worried about what would happen if you found him in your closet with a boner because all he can focus on is your creeping hands teasing your folds before you begin rubbing your clit with a frustrated fervour. you have your phone in your hand, clearly needing visual stimuli to get going. 
college student!sukuna wishes he could see what you’re looking at, itching to know what sick kinks you have hiding in there and desperate to know if they align with his. your date’s passed out, snoring away with his dick barely tucked back in, and you’re cupping your tit over the lace as you moan under your breath, desperate to keep quiet. 
your orgasm is weak, barely there and you hate that gross feeling of bodily fluids and bad decisions catching up to you. eventually, you push yourself up and head into the bathroom to clean up, hoping the guy will leave by the time you’re done. when you come out, you’re pleased to see he is, you don’t even care he didn’t say bye or thanks, and you’re sure he won’t ever contact you again. 
thank god.
college student!sukuna left too. snuck out right behind your date and shoved him into a bush from behind before getting into his car to rush back home so he could release the ache in his cock. he almost reached into his jeans to jerk off in time with your hand but decided against it — he didn’t want to cum to the sight of you naked with a guy next to you. if you weren’t so goddamn hot, his boner would have deflated. 
no, college student!sukuna wants to cum in his own bed to the recording of you he didn’t even realise he took until he was checking the time on his phone and noticed the video still going. guess it was second nature for him to press record as soon as you were remotely vulnerable. 
and he knows saving his load for this shaky video of you would be so worth it because if he pressed his phone to his ear and turned the volume all the way up, he’d hear the faintest, annoyingly quiet, barely audible whisper of his name leaving your lips. 
college student!sukuna's heart, and cock, is full of so much love for you, his sweet girl, always thinking of him. 
you and him are a match made in heaven. 
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allfearstofallto · 1 year ago
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How easy it would be to escape them
Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader
Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche
TW: Yandere Themes, Stalking, Mentions of Punishment
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Diluc - Difficulty Level: Very Easy
Do you think he doesn't regret what he's done? That he doesn't stay up all night, fighting internally with what he thinks he should do with you? Taking you was a spur of the moment thing, something that happened without a lot of thought put behind it. He just knew he needed you close. He needed you to be near. He needed you with him.
Because of this you're already able to push him around a fair bit. He gives you almost everything you want except for freedom, pure red eyes practically begging for your forgiveness.
He won't let you go if you just ask, he's not that lenient after all, but if he were to wake up one morning and you were not there, he'd go through so many emotions at one time. The manor would be searched from top to bottom, every nook and cranny searched for you. When you're not found a part of him feels calm, it feels satisfied. He stole you without your permission, so he's happy that you're finally free like you wanted. But there's also a tragic, gripping pain in his chest. You're gone, and he knows that he has no right to ask for you back. If you manage to leave Diluc, you'll probably never see him again.
Childe - Difficulty Level: Medium
His playfulness is simultaneously a ploy and his actual personality, such is the nature of him. He's so easy going most days, so funny and kind that part of you forgets that he's forced you into this. Until he has one of those bad days and you see the true strength and fury of a harbinger.
Even before you were stolen by Childe, you found him rather strange. Maybe it was the lack of light in his eyes, or how he casually talked about fighting and killing like it was nothing. Those should've been red flags, signals to stop talking to him, but his charm was laid on thick and suddenly you were stuck in his home in Snezhnaya.
Do you think you escaped because of your wit or because he let you? You'd never truly know the answer, but you thought it strange that you were able to leave his house without a single maid alerting him, without a single guard chasing you.
That sigh of relief you breathe when you're finally home may be the last one you get. Suddenly you feel so afraid constantly. You chalk it up to paranoia, but you can't stop looking over your shoulder. And then you start seeing traces of him. Fatui foot soldiers and letters with that familiar wax seal on them.
When you eventually see him, smiling at you casually like nothing is wrong, your heart practically shatters. You find yourself asking again, did you truly get away or did he let you? He always mentioned loving the chase.
Scaramouche - Difficulty Level: Very Hard
Good luck getting him to even trust you enough to let you roam the gardens without him. His home is a maze of eyes and watchful gazes, the only person you can rely on is yourself. There isn't really much you can do to get away from him, the house is guarded like a prison and Scaramouche himself is a tough man to get along with.
He loves you, he knows he does, that's what that painful feeling in his chest is, but he can't bring himself to even give you a taste of freedom. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile. Because of that you often spend time sitting next to windows, longingly looking outside at the world you're convinced you'll never see again. Not without him breathing over your shoulder.
Let yourself get away if you dare, you'd better hope your plan is air tight. Scaramouche won't fall for the same tricks twice. Fool him once, shame on him, but fool him twice and you'll learn how truly kind he was being to you before. Hope and pray to whichever Archon you worship that when you get away, he won't find you. But getting away is just the beginning. Staying out of his reach is the hardest. His home isn't the only place where he has eyes everywhere.
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gothicxreylover · 3 months ago
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I saw that you write Yandere and Demon Slayer and I was wondering if I could request how the yandere Hashira (if you don’t want to do them all then just Sanemi, Rengoku and Gyomei) would react to a darling who was abused in their past making them extremely skittish? The reader is very timid and is always on edge. How would the Hashira deal with such a delicate s/o?
‧.·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥
Hello thank you for your request!I couldn’t help myself and write every hashiras that I could remember. I was going to put pictures but tumblr takes forever to upload them and this is my second time trying to publish the story.
‧.·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥
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Kyojuro Rengoku
Kyojuro Rengoku was a force of nature, his passionate energy filling every room he entered. But when he met you, he immediately recognized a fragility that made him pause. Your timid, skittish demeanor reminded him of a small bird, wings battered by life but still longing to fly. It broke his heart to see how on edge you were, how you flinched at the slightest noise or avoided eye contact when someone raised their voice.
Kyojuro’s instinct was to protect you with the same fire that burned in his heart. At first, he struggled to reign in his usual exuberance, afraid that his enthusiasm might frighten you. Instead of his usual booming greetings, he softened his tone, speaking to you with a gentleness that surprised even himself.
“You’re safe now,” he said one evening, his amber eyes glowing warmly as he knelt before you. “No matter what happened before, I swear on my life, I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
Kyojuro’s yandere tendencies emerged in the way he began to involve himself in every aspect of your life. He took it upon himself to ensure you were always comfortable and protected, but his protective nature soon became overbearing. He insisted on accompanying you everywhere, refusing to leave your side even for a moment.
“You don’t need to go alone,” he said one morning as you prepared to run a simple errand. “What if something happens? I’d never forgive myself. I’ll come with you!”
Despite his intensity, Kyojuro’s love for you was genuine. He constantly reassured you with his words and actions, doing everything he could to help you feel safe. When you were overwhelmed, he would sit beside you, his warmth radiating like a comforting fire.
“Breathe with me,” he’d say, taking slow, steady breaths. His large hands would gently cover yours, grounding you in his presence. “That’s it. You’re doing so well.”
On nights when your nightmares were too much to bear, he’d stay awake with you, his voice steady and soothing as he told stories of his childhood or recited encouraging words.
“You are strong,” he would say, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here. That’s what matters.”
And while his obsessive need to protect you might have been suffocating at times, Kyojuro’s warmth and unwavering devotion slowly began to replace the shadows of your past with the light of his love.
Muichiro Tokito
Muichiro Tokito was quiet and detached, often lost in his thoughts. But when he met you, something in him shifted. He couldn’t quite explain it, but the sight of your timid, skittish behavior stirred a protective instinct within him that he hadn’t known he possessed.
At first, he observed you from afar, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. He noticed how you avoided crowds, how your hands trembled when someone spoke too loudly, and how you kept your back to the wall as if bracing for an attack. The realization that someone had hurt you ignited a quiet fury in his heart.
Muichiro’s approach was subtle. He began inserting himself into your life, offering his help in small, unobtrusive ways. He’d appear out of nowhere when you needed assistance, his calm presence soothing your frayed nerves.
“Don’t worry,” he said one day when you hesitated to walk down a crowded street. “I’ll stay with you. No one will bother you while I’m here.”
His yandere tendencies revealed themselves in his possessiveness. Muichiro hated the idea of you being vulnerable to anyone else. He began following you, not out of mistrust but out of an overwhelming need to protect you. If anyone approached you, his soft voice would turn cold, his expression unreadable as he intervened.
“Leave them alone,” he’d say flatly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The threat was clear, even if unspoken.
In private, Muichiro was softer. He would sit with you in silence, his presence steady and grounding. When you struggled to sleep, he would stay by your side, his voice quiet as he reassured you.
“I’m here,” he’d whisper, his pale eyes fixed on you. “Nothing can hurt you anymore. I won’t let it.”
Though his possessiveness sometimes made you uneasy, Muichiro’s quiet devotion slowly began to ease your fears. His calm presence was a balm to your restless heart, and in his company, you started to believe that safety was possible.
Gyomei Himejima
Gyomei Himejima’s towering presence was both intimidating and comforting. Despite his immense strength, he carried himself with a quiet gentleness that set him apart. When he met you, he immediately sensed the weight of your past. Your hesitance, your downcast eyes, and the way you flinched at sudden noises all spoke volumes to him.
Gyomei didn’t ask about your past—he believed you would share it when you were ready. Instead, he focused on creating a safe and peaceful environment for you. He spoke in a soft, soothing tone, his words laced with a deep compassion that made it hard not to trust him.
“You’ve been hurt,” he said one day, his voice filled with quiet sorrow. “But you are not alone anymore. I will protect you, no matter what.”
Gyomei’s yandere tendencies emerged in the form of an all-encompassing protectiveness. He couldn’t bear the thought of you being in danger, and his solution was to keep you close. He rarely let you out of his sight, justifying it as ensuring your safety.
“You’re precious to me,” he explained one evening as you sat together under the stars. “I cannot allow anything to harm you—not even your memories.”
Gyomei’s actions were always gentle, but his determination was unshakable. He eliminated anything that caused you distress, sometimes without you even realizing it. A neighbor who spoke harshly to you would mysteriously stop visiting. A place that brought back bad memories would quietly become off-limits.
In moments of fear or doubt, Gyomei was your rock. He would sit beside you, his large hands enveloping yours as he prayed for your peace. His deep voice was a constant source of reassurance.
“You are stronger than you know,” he said one night when you confided in him about your fears. “And I will be your strength until you find your own. Together, we will overcome this.”
Though his protectiveness sometimes bordered on overbearing, Gyomei’s love was pure and unwavering. In his care, you began to feel the cracks in your heart mend, each moment with him a step closer to healing.
Mitsuri Kanroji
Mitsuri Kanroji had always been a warm and loving person, her affection a beacon of light for those around her. When she met you, however, her love took on an entirely new depth. You were quiet and timid, always on edge, and it broke her heart to see the fear in your eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of someone hurting you in the past—and she vowed to never let anyone hurt you again.
At first, Mitsuri’s boundless energy overwhelmed you. Her bright, bubbly personality and tendency to throw herself into hugs made you flinch, though you tried to hide it. The moment she noticed, her heart shattered. She pulled back immediately, hands clasped to her chest, her eyes wide with concern.
“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to scare you! I just—oh, I just want to make you feel loved!”
From that day on, Mitsuri did her best to be gentle around you. She toned down her energy, approaching you slowly and speaking in soft, reassuring tones. She showered you with compliments, constantly reminding you of how wonderful you were.
“You’re so brave,” she said one evening, her eyes glistening with emotion. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I know you’re stronger than you think. And I’ll do everything I can to make you feel safe.”
Her yandere tendencies manifested in her clinginess. Mitsuri couldn’t stand being away from you, even for a moment. She followed you everywhere, her presence comforting but sometimes overwhelming. If you tried to leave without her, she’d tear up, her lower lip trembling.
“Please don’t go without me,” she’d plead, her voice quivering. “I’ll protect you, I promise. I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt again.”
Though her possessiveness could be suffocating, Mitsuri’s love was genuine. She wanted nothing more than to see you smile without fear shadowing your expression. At night, when you had trouble sleeping, she would sit by your side, her voice soft and soothing as she hummed a lullaby.
“You’re safe now,” she whispered, her hand gently brushing yours. “I’ll protect you no matter what. I love you more than anything.”
And as her arms wrapped around you, holding you close, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of her devotion melting away the lingering cold of your past.
Shinobu Kocho
Shinobu Kocho’s sharp intellect and gentle demeanor made her an enigma. To most, she appeared kind and composed, but there was an intensity in her gaze that often went unnoticed. When she met you, it didn’t take long for her to notice your skittishness. The way you flinched at sudden movements, the haunted look in your eyes—it all painted a picture she didn’t need you to explain.
Shinobu approached you carefully, her voice always soft and her movements deliberate. She never asked about your past directly; instead, she offered a safe space for you to exist without judgment.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she said one evening as the two of you sat together in the garden. “But if you ever feel ready, I’m here to listen.”
Her kindness made you feel at ease, but Shinobu’s yandere tendencies began to show in the way she subtly controlled your environment. She ensured you were always within her line of sight, often under the guise of concern. If someone upset you, she’d smile sweetly at them, but her eyes glinted with a cold promise.
“Do be careful,” she’d say with a honeyed tone, her smile never wavering. “It would be such a shame if something unfortunate happened.”
Though her possessiveness was subtle, it was unyielding. Shinobu began isolating you from anyone she deemed unworthy of your trust, all while making it seem like she was doing it for your benefit. She justified it as protecting you from harm, but deep down, she relished being the only one you relied on.
At night, when the memories of your past crept in and left you trembling, Shinobu was there. She’d sit beside you, her presence steady and calming as she gently stroked your hair.
“Breathe,” she whispered, her voice like a balm. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
Though her obsession sometimes showed through the cracks of her carefully maintained facade, Shinobu’s love for you was undeniable. She would do anything to keep you safe—even if it meant taking drastic measures.
And as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself leaning on her more and more, her soothing words and unwavering presence slowly teaching you what it meant to feel safe. Little did you know, Shinobu was already planning a future where you would never need anyone but her.
Giyu Tomioka
Giyu Tomioka had always been an enigma, his quiet demeanor keeping others at arm’s length. But with you, it was different. You were his solace, the person who reminded him that even someone like him could feel alive. He noticed your skittish nature the moment he met you. The way your eyes darted to every shadow, the way you flinched at sudden movements—it was painfully familiar to him.
It wasn’t until much later, after earning your hesitant trust, that he pieced together the story behind your fear. The bruises of the past lingered not on your skin, but in the way you carried yourself, the way you recoiled when someone raised their voice. It ignited a quiet storm within him—a need to protect you, to ensure no one ever hurt you again.
Giyu didn’t talk much about your past; he knew you weren’t ready to share. Instead, he let his actions speak for him. He ensured your home was secure, often checking the locks multiple times before leaving. He began accompanying you everywhere, his presence silent but steadfast. Whenever you startled, his calm voice would ground you.
“You’re safe,” he would murmur, his eyes soft yet intense. “No one will harm you while I’m here.”
But Giyu’s protectiveness slowly evolved into something darker. The thought of you being hurt or frightened because of someone else was unbearable. He began eliminating anyone who dared to disturb your peace. A rude merchant? Gone. A stranger who looked at you the wrong way? They vanished without a trace.
One evening, you noticed his knuckles were bruised, and his haori smelled faintly of blood. When you asked, his response was clipped. “It’s nothing. Just… doing what I must to keep you safe.”
Despite his intensity, Giyu was careful around you. He would never raise his voice or make sudden movements. At night, when you woke from nightmares, trembling and panicked, he would sit beside you, his hand hovering over yours as if afraid to frighten you further.
“Sleep,” he’d whisper. “I’m here. Nothing will hurt you ever again.”
And though his possessiveness grew stronger with each passing day, so did his gentleness. For Giyu, you were his world—a fragile treasure he’d guard with his life, even if it meant losing himself in the process.
Sanemi Shinazugawa
Sanemi Shinazugawa was a storm of anger and raw emotion, his demeanor sharp and abrasive. But when he met you, something in him shifted. He noticed the way you flinched at loud noises, the way you shrank into yourself when someone raised their voice. At first, it frustrated him—not because of you, but because he recognized the signs of someone who had been hurt.
It wasn’t in Sanemi’s nature to tread carefully, but for you, he tried. His voice, usually harsh and biting, softened around you. He kept his distance at first, knowing that his intensity might frighten you. But the more he saw of your skittish behavior, the more his protective instincts kicked in.
“Who did this to you?” he demanded one day, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. You didn’t answer, tears welling in your eyes instead. He backed off immediately, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—damn it.”
Sanemi’s way of helping was blunt and straightforward. He wouldn’t coddle you, but he would never let you feel unsafe again. He made sure to be the first to step in if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way. His yandere tendencies began to show when he started following you—at first from a distance, then more overtly.
“You don’t need to go out alone,” he said gruffly. “It’s not safe.”
He didn’t care if you protested. Your safety was more important than your independence, as far as he was concerned. And if anyone dared to mention your past or even hint at hurting you again, Sanemi’s wrath was swift and merciless.
One night, you overheard him talking to someone outside—a low, threatening growl in his voice. “If I ever see you near them again, you won’t live to regret it.” The next day, that person was gone, and Sanemi acted as if nothing had happened.
Despite his rough edges, Sanemi showed you his softer side in private moments. When you were too afraid to sleep, he’d sit beside you, his hand hovering protectively near yours.
“You’re safe,” he’d say, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not while I’m around.”
Though his possessiveness sometimes frightened you, it was clear that Sanemi’s love for you ran deep. He would destroy the world for you if it meant you’d never have to feel afraid again. And in his own clumsy, fierce way, he began to teach you what safety and love could feel like.
Obanai Iguro
Obanai had always been quiet in his obsession with you. His sharp eyes followed your every move, not because he mistrusted you, but because he couldn’t bear the idea of you slipping through his fingers. When he learned of your past, it wasn’t from your lips—you were far too guarded for that. Instead, it was through subtle clues: your flinch when someone raised their hand too quickly, the way you hesitated to speak, and the haunted look in your eyes when you thought no one was watching.
Obanai didn’t confront you outright. He knew that his intensity might scare you. Instead, he created a cocoon of safety around you. At first, it was small things: warning others to keep their distance, subtly nudging you into situations where you had control, and keeping Kaburamaru curled around your wrist, his comforting weight a silent reminder that you weren’t alone.
But his yandere tendencies began to creep in. Obanai grew increasingly possessive, unwilling to let you out of his sight. When you flinched at the approach of an unfamiliar man in the market, Obanai acted swiftly, his hand tightening on your arm as his mismatched eyes glared daggers at the man.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice soft but tinged with malice. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. Not even the memory of them.”
Over time, he began to isolate you, justifying it as protecting you from a cruel world. Yet, there were moments when his tenderness shone through—quiet nights where he held your trembling hand, his voice barely above a whisper as he promised that you were safe with him.
Tengen Uzui and His Wives
Tengen’s home was a whirlwind of noise, laughter, and affection. But when you arrived—a timid, skittish presence in the midst of their vibrancy—everything changed. The flamboyant Sound Hashira and his wives were not blind to your pain, and the cracks in your demeanor didn’t go unnoticed.
Makio was the first to grow protective. Her sharp eyes and sharper tongue were quick to cut down anyone who made you uncomfortable. “Don’t look at them like that,” she snapped at a vendor one day, stepping in front of you. “You’re lucky I don’t smash your stall for that glare.” Her fiery nature sometimes frightened you, but she always softened her tone when speaking to you.
Suma was more emotional, often crying on your behalf. “Why didn’t anyone protect you?” she’d wail, clinging to your hand. Though her clinginess could be overwhelming, she was also the first to notice when you needed comfort, holding you close in her arms and whispering reassurances.
Hina, ever the calm and nurturing presence, took charge of creating a safe space for you. She ensured you had quiet moments away from the chaos, always bringing you tea or sitting beside you in silence when words felt like too much.
And then there was Tengen. His flamboyant nature made you nervous at first, his booming laughter and confident stride overwhelming. But he adapted quickly, learning to temper his energy around you. His protectiveness, however, was unmatched. When he learned of your past, his usual playful grin vanished, replaced with an icy determination.
“They’ll never touch you again,” he said, his voice low but seething with anger. “I’ll make sure of it. You’re part of our family now, and no one messes with what’s mine.”
His yandere tendencies revealed themselves in his need to control every aspect of your life. He forbade you from venturing out alone and assigned his wives to accompany you wherever you went. Though the intensity of their protection could be suffocating, it was impossible to doubt their love for you.
One night, as the five of you sat around the hearth, Tengen spoke softly, a rare moment of vulnerability in his voice. “You’re more precious to us than you know. Whatever you’ve been through, we’ll erase it with a lifetime of love. That’s a promise.”
And in that moment, surrounded by their unwavering devotion, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could heal.
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