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blakeswritingimagines · 14 days ago

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Dating Yandere Freddy Krueger Would Include:

He's the embodiment of an overprotective and obsessive lover. He cares deeply for the one he calls his own. He will not hesitate to kill or harm anyone who threatens or dares to take you from him. He likes being the only one you give attention to. No one and I mean no one’s opinion of you matters unless it’s his. After all, he knows what’s best for you.

He'll whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he gently caresses your face. The mere thought of another man touching you drives him absolutely wild. He is fiercely protective of you and will not tolerate any form of disrespect towards you.

He’s also controlling and manipulative. He believes he's the only one who truly understands and knows what's best for you. He'll try to isolate you from your friends and family, making himself your only support system. He’s possessive and protective to the extreme and will become extremely jealous if he believes someone is attempting to steal your attention away from him.

He'll try to control and monitor your every move. He doesn't like you having much of a social life outside of him. He’ll constantly check in with you and may even try to track your location. He also can get quite violent if you try to distance yourself from him or suggest ending the relationship.

He also has a dark and twisted sense of humor. He’s not above making morbid jokes about your potential future together. He’ll probably even make references to how he'll kill anyone who gets in his way of having you.

In front of others, he’s usually calm, cool, and collected. He acts like he’s your loving and devoted partner. He’ll put on a facade of being a charming and caring individual. He may even go as far as to act protective and possessive in front of others, though less outwardly so.

He’s more than happy to reassure you whenever you need it. He’ll constantly remind you that he’s the only one who truly understands and cares for you. He’ll listen to your worries and concerns and reassure you that everything will be okay as long as you’re with him. He may also offer physical signs of affection, such as embraces, caresses, and kisses

He’s quite generous and will gladly reward you for your loyalty. He’ll spoil you with gifts, presents, and special privileges. He’ll also shower you with praise and compliments for your devotion. He may also surprise you with romantic gestures, such as extravagant dates or spontaneous gifts

He is not one to shy away from punishment. If he believes you’re stepping out of line or misbehaving, he’ll be quick to correct your behavior. He may resort to physical force, such as spanking or restraining, or he may simply withdraw affection or attention until you repent. He’s not above doling out threats, such as warning you of dire consequences should you persist in your disobedience.

He isn’t exactly a fan of prolonged arguments. He sees them as a waste of time and thinks that any problem should be settled quickly and efficiently. He’ll likely try to assert his dominance and authority in the fight. He may even try to manipulate and gaslight you into thinking you’re the one in the wrong. However, if the fight is unavoidable, he’ll be quick to fight dirty and will pull out any tricks he knows to maintain control.

He's an incredibly affectionate partner. He loves to shower you with physical affection and will constantly express his love and devotion to you. He believes in giving you as much love and attention as possible. He'll constantly touch you and show you physical affection, such as holding your hand, embracing you, and leaving soft kisses.

He loves to haunt your dreams, especially if he can't be there in person. He'll constantly appear in your dreams, often as a nightmare, tormenting and taunting you in various ways. Or, he may even disguise himself as a source of comfort and security to further manipulate you. However, he always shows up in some form in your dreams, always letting you know that he's there and watching over you.

He will go all out on a date, taking you to extravagant events such as a candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant, a visit to an opera or a theater performance, a trip to an amusement park, a romantic couples' massage, or even a horse-drawn carriage ride. He believes in making the occasion special and memorable. He'll likely be very generous and try to impress you with his charm and finesse. He can also be quite jealous and possessive on dates, getting very hostile and angry if someone even looks in your direction.

If his darling wanted to break up, he would be absolutely devastated. He would vehemently try to convince you otherwise, attempting to change your mind through emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping. He would probably become extremely possessive and aggressive, trying to convince you that you belong to him and that he was the only one who could truly make you happy. He would likely resort to extreme measures in order to prevent losing you, up to and including acts of violence and stalking.

He'll likely resort to stalking and monitoring your every move. He'll constantly watch you, follow you around, and keep tabs on your activities. He'd get extremely upset if he felt you were hiding something from him or not giving him enough attention before you two get together.

He’d absolutely have a shrine dedicated to you. It would be filled with pictures, momentos, and other trinkets to remind him of you and your relationship. He’d spend hours admiring the shrine and talking to the memories he has of you, treating it as if it held a piece of your very soul.

He would take marriage very seriously. He'd want a big, extravagant wedding, something that would cement your bond and publicly express his claim over you. He’d likely want you to wear a wedding dress and exchange vows in front of friends and family. However, he’d also likely be very possessive and jealous on the day of the wedding, getting extremely angry and hostile if someone tried to take your attention away from him. He’d see the wedding as a way to bind you to him eternally, making you his forever.

He’d absolutely want children. He’d want to have little versions of you running around, kids who looked like you and acted like you. He’d likely want more than one, viewing them as little pieces of you that he could own. He’d likely be an overprotective parent, not wanting anyone to get close to his children and always being vigilant of their safety. He’d want to shape and mold them into carbon copies of him and you.

If his darling didn't want or couldn't have kids, he’d likely be devastated. He’d probably try to convince them to change their mind, using emotional manipulation and guilt trips to sway their opinion. He’d probably try to find ways around it, such as seeking out adoption or surrogates, in order to obtain the children he’d always wanted. He’d likely become very frustrated and upset if his darling remained firm in their decision or inability to have kids.

"You're mine, and mine alone. I am your world. You belong to me, and you have to do everything I say. I won't allow anyone else to have you, and I will do anything to keep you by my side. You are nothing without me, and you are completely dependent on me. I own you, and I will make sure you never forget that."

Orgasm denial - Edging you repeatedly, keeping you right on the brink without allowing release until he says so. Building frustration fuels obedience to him in his mind.

Bondage - Tying you up and taking complete control, using your body however he pleases. Loves seeing you squirm and plead for him.

Pain play - Introducing mild pain alongside pleasure, like slapping, pinching, or biting. Makes the highs feel that much better.

Spanking - Giving out hard smacks to your ass, either as punishment or simply because it turns him on. Love watching the red marks spread.

Long-term torture - Keeping you in a state of constant arousal and denial, never allowing you relief, pushing you to the brink of madness.

#freddy krueger #freddy kruger x reader #freddy kruger #freddy kruger x you #yandere freddy kruger #yandere freddy kruger x reader #yandere freddy kruger x you #a nightmare on elm street #yandere a nightmare on elm street #dating would include

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yanderedbdimagines · 2 years ago

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Can you do something for yandere quentin who's obsession is afraid to sleep at night so they'll come to awkwardly ask if they can sleep with him bc they're scared and tired from being pulled into more trials than usual? Love your blog btw and I hope you're taking care of yourself :)

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Thank you for liking my blog! And I’m lucky to inform that I’m doing well. 😊 So no worries on that part! I really like this idea, so I made it a short scenario at the very least.

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Quentin Smith

The survivor encampment was silent and still, the only sound coming from the occasional rustling of the leaves in the surrounding trees. Most of the survivors were huddled inside their tents, either trying to catch some sleep or preparing offerings for the trials that were sure to come. Quentin, however, had found a spot by a lonesome tree a little ways away from the center of the camp where he could read in peace. The bonfire's light didn't reach that far, but the Entity had provided unextinguishable torches that cast a warm glow over the area.

As he read, Quentin couldn't help but notice how thick the fog had become, obscuring even the eternal moon from view.

The Entity’s pleased.

Quentin bites the inside of his lip in anger and frustration.

The trials had been more frequent and intense lately, and the negative energy from the survivors was palpable. Some had even been forced to run trials back-to-back with no time to rest in between. Quentin knew the toll this took on the mind and body; it was an experience he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. Let alone upon the person he currently loves most.

Just then, he saw a familiar figure approaching him.

You drew nearer and Quentin could see the fear and lack of sleep etched onto your face. He felt his jaw clench for but a second.

He put down his book and waited patiently as you gathered your thoughts after you’d stopped in front of him, looking more so at his hands than at his face.

"Quentin, I-I-," you began, hesitating. Quentin remained silent, sensing that you needed time to find the right words.

Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke. "Is it alright if I sleep by your side? I-I can't really sleep alone anymore. The nightmares have been getting worse since I've been forced to run more trials than usual." As mentioned before; you’re scared and tired, made prevalent by the deep bags that are hanging from below your lower eyelids and the low-spirited haze that’s casted over your eyes.

Quentin nodded, understanding all too well the toll that the trials could take on a person's mental health. You settle down against his side, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, offering comfort and support.

As you settled in for the night, you began to open up about your experiences with each and every trial you’ve had thus far. You spoke of how you noticed how your memories had been fragmented and distorted by the Entity's influence, with clear memories of pain and fear but hazy recollections of the details. You knew which killer had taken your life and how, but the memories were incomplete, as if snipped away with complete disregard.

"That's what scares me," you admitted. "I know we've been through so many trials, but it's like the Entity is wiping the slate relatively clean after every death. It's like we're not even supposed to remember what happened to us."

Quentin listened quietly, his grip on you tightening. He too had felt the effects of the Entity's power, the way it distorted reality and played with the survivors' minds. But he also knew that the survivors were stronger than the Entity gave them credit for. They had each other, and that was something the Entity couldn’t easily take away. Not as long as it wants to instill a certain kind of hope within them. This includes the two of you.

"It's okay to be scared," Quentin said softly. "But remember, you're not alone. You have me, and we're in this together. We'll get through it, no matter what."

You nodded a bit weakly and snuggle closer to Quentin before closing your eyes. Even still, he could feel that it was hard for you to fall asleep by the way you moved. His words weren't enough...

But when you finally did fall asleep, perhaps for the first time in a long time, he felt himself relax as well. In comparison, the warm glow of the torches provided a little comfort. Yet to him, you served as the reminder that even in the darkest mists, there was still even a bit of solace to be found. Even if it's just for a moment.

If only he could make it last forever instead...

#dbd #dead by daylight #quentin smith #nightmare on elm street #yandere #dbd x reader #reader insert

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samalong1 · 1 year ago

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Freddy krueger x reader highschool

Tw mentions of fake incest(like in the 2nd episode of Freddy's Nightmares), mentioned bug eating and gore, nsfw, genderless reader, feminine clothes despite gender, highschool trope but both parties are well into adualthood,laugh tracks, shitty Grammer and writing

Reposts,like,and comments are greatly appreciated

Almost any time you slept or napped the fucker would be there

While you considered to be dating him in some fucked up way(he never confirmed but all your love intrest ending up dead and you still being alive) he'd still tease you still pretend to be a freind or family dieing or making out with you and do gross scenarios like having you eat noodles that turn out to be dark bloody worms

The fucker woukd usually end up on the floor cackling infront of you

But after falling asleep on the couch you awoken in your living room. It was all so realistic but you didn't fall asleep in a cheerleader crop top and short skirt with pom poms

You were confused until you see a football fly through your window shattering it you knew Freddy found some weird porn to try out

Soon you saw your darling loving boyfriend climb and fall though the window as a laugh tracked play followed by him jumping back up "hello baby!" He'd tease

You laughed when seeing his outfit it was the same but with a varsity jacket thrown ontop sporting his claw as a logo and Krueger high stitched on the back. Feeding into his own ego

Your stitching was a bit different simply Freddy's bitch cheerleading squad "classy" was all that rang through your head

"What suprised I'd come to see you!" He said all dramatic putting his claws against his chest acting hurt as a laugh track plays

"Not dressed like a jock" was all you could muster holding your gut trying not to laugh as be only seemed to look more shocked even gasping as he layed on the couch

"I'm hurt whats so wrong with getting some night loving for good luck" he said throwing a pillow at you laughing. Great he was fully into the bit

"Well I'd have to believe he'd actually have a chance to win" you teased hovering over him to pull at his varsity jacket

All you could see for a split moment before being pulled into a make-out was his shit eating grin before he grabbed you

It was clear he won cause once again you were under him making lewd noises as he ran his claws through your hair while he pinched your ass to get you to yelp in pain once again for his amusement like a asshole

Though he didn't tear up your cheerleader uniform so you got to keep it and you managed to put his hat on during the love making

#freddy krueger #yandere freddy krueger #freddy krueger x reader #freddy krueger x y/n #nightmare on elm street #a nightmare on elm street #freddy krueger is a manwhore xoxooxoxo

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yandere-daydreams · 17 days ago

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Screening: Nightmare on Elm Street (1984).

Pairing: Yandere!Capitano x Reader (Genshin)

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Somnophilia, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Fingering, Size Kinks, Arranged Marriage, and Obsessive Behavior. Mild Spoilers for the Natlan Story Quest.

Capitano only ever visits you at night.

Part of it is merely the reality of Harbinger’s schedule. If he’s in Snezhnaya at all, let alone lodging within his own estate, it’s a given that he’ll still be working tirelessly to carry out the Tsaritsa’s will, whether that means training incoming soldiers or busying himself with the paperwork deemed necessary by more bureaucratic types, like Pulcinella and Pantalone. It’s rare for him to return home (if it’s fair call that lifeless, desolate place by such a sentimental name) early enough to speak with you properly, and when he does, you only seem to hurry off to bed all the earlier. He’s not a fool. He knows you aren’t fond of him, that the company of your husband brings you little comfort. There’s no doubt in his mind that you assume yourself to be as ornamental as his manor, as his medals, as every other gift from his archon that he displays and maintains not out of gratitude, but polite obligation. He’s never corrected you. From what he can tell, the thought that he bears no great fondness for you has only ever eased your mind – eliminating such troublesome thoughts as those of a loving husband or happy marriage.

No, you don’t believe he loves you, and as far as he can tell, you’ve been given no reason to love him. Thus, he visits at night.

In plainer words, when you’re not in a state to remember he came to you at all.

You don’t share a bedroom. He has his barracks, attached to his office and furnished with only the barer essentials, and you have your nest – a small bedroom tucked into the tightest corner of the highest floor, just large enough to allow you to hoard all the softened, frivolous things you think you’re collecting behind his back. He’s careful not to brush against the woven tapestries crowding your walls as he crosses the threshold, not to disturb the careful arrangements of heaped blankets and silver trinkets you tend to leave scattered across your floor. He only pauses in front of your vanity – removing first his helmet (which, he notes with an inordinate amount of satisfaction, slots perfectly into the space left between your many combs and perfumes) then his coat, left draped haphazardly over the velvet-cushioned stool. He had the foresight to have the metal of his helmet tinted, to allow silver adornments of his uniform to tarnish beyond the point of reflectivity, but your mirror provides fewer safeguards. His vision catches on his own face and despite his better reasoning, lingers there.

The rot is no better or worse than it was when he first came to Snezhnaya, and yet in the dim light of your bedroom, it always seems a little more progressed. A jagged line of decay connects the corner of his lips to the point just above his ear, discolored flesh contained on either side by thick barriers of frostbite giving way to pure, abyssal void where there should’ve been bone. The skin around the corner of his mouth had gotten the worst of it. Grit teeth catch dull moonlight where his lips pull away and char, red viscera visible where the rot had nearly been allowed to take its toll. He’s thankful, in moments like this, that you keep your distance. Surely, it’s better to think yourself married to a monstrous man than know you were bound to monster merely masquerading as one.

Letting out a shallow breath, he forces himself away from the mirror and toward his true destination, your bedside. It’s with only the upmost care that he brushes away the sheer curtains, that he kneels onto the down-stuffed mattress – careful not to wake you with unnecessary noise or thoughtless movement. He finds you as he often does; slumped against your headboard, your sheets clumsily thrown to the side and the book you must’ve fallen asleep reading still spread open in your lap. It’s a good thing he cares for you more than he appears to. Snezhnayan nights are unforgiving, and without his daily visits, you most likely would’ve frozen to death by now.

Your book is closed and placed on the neared nightstand, your body drawn carefully onto the mattress, where you roll unconsciously onto your side. Your nightgown (your favorite, judging by how often you where despite the vastness of your collection) is long enough to reach your ankles, and yet, your fitful sleep and his disturbance has the skirt pooling at your waist. Your body is no stranger to him, and yet, impatience pricks as the back of his throat as he moves closer, as his fingertips graze over your ankle, then your thigh – so plush in comparison to his hardened, calloused form. It’s only when he reaches your hip that he thinks to remove his gloves. There aren’t many things he’s willing to risk exposure to feel, even fewer he lacks the self-restraint to resist, and yet, he never seems to be capable of that same control when it comes to you.

His hands were, thankfully, spared from the worst of the corruption’s wrath – his skin in-tact save for a small patch of exposed bone near the jut of his left wrist. You stir slightly as he traces aimless patterns into your waist, but your anxiety passes with time, and he waits until you’ve gone still to slip two fingers bellow the hem of your panties, dragging the thin material down just far enough to cup your sex properly. One day, he may grow brazen enough to take more time, to undress you completely and take in your body as a whole, rather than dividing it into such meager bits and pieces, but tonight, he contents himself with the slick heat of your cunt, the raspy breath you let out as he rocks the heel of his palm gently against your clit. It only takes a moment for you to reposition yourself, settling onto your back and parting your legs, making room for him in your bed where your heart remains closed. He knows nothing you could do in such a state would ever be considered intentional, but he spares a small smile as he leans forward, kissing the top of your head to the best of his limited ability. Despite himself, he cherishes the rare moments of faux-mutual intimacy he shares with you. Your mind, of course, would never let you take a walking corpse as a husband, but your body isn’t quite so discerning.

You’re sensitive, dampening quickly under his dutiful touch, and not for the first time, Capitano is reminded of why he grew to love you. He knew you were a delicate thing from the moment you were given to him – a former servant of the Tsaritsa, rewarded for your years at her beck and call with a hasty betrothal to a masked stranger and a sudden dismissal from your post. He’s sure one of the other Harbingers had something to do with it – the Doctor with his cat-like grin and morbid sense of humor, or perhaps Columbina with her warped idea of romance – but he had no reason to refuse, and you were never going to try, even if you’d been sobbing too violently to speak on your wedding day. No, he wouldn’t hear your voice until weeks into your marriage, after you’d begun to settle into your new role. Even then, you’d trembled through every word, your eyes never leaving the floor at your feet.

Your request had been a simple one – to have one of his soldiers help you bury the dead rabbit you’d found in the manor’s gardens that morning, while you were tending to your evergreens. When he mentioned that it would be difficult to bury much of anything this deep into winter, that surely the task would be better off left entirely to his soldiers, you only bowed your head. “I know,” you’d said, wringing the fabric of your skirt. “I… I don’t think they’d treat it with much care, though. I’d rather handle the poor thing myself.”

…

His first visit to your bedroom would come a little more than a month later. He still fucks his fist to his memory of your expression, from time to time.

Two of his fingers slip into you with ease. Your lips part at the sudden intrusion, a high-pitched mewling sound escaping from somewhere deep in your chest as he curls his digits against your clenching walls. Upon further thought, it must’ve been the Doctor responsible for your engagement – no other Harbinger would have a sense of humor cruel enough to see such a delicate creature paired with such a beast, to know how your thighs would twitch and shake as you struggled to take his fingers and still think it to be a fitting match. He really does try to be gentle with you, but he’s still human, still at the mercy of his vices, and the way your breath hitches as he thrusts a third digit into you is worth more to him than any amount of gold or gems or angels’ song.

His free hand is braced beside your head, his wrist angled to better allow him to fuck knuckle-deep into you, but his eyes remain fixed on your face as your features scrunch and relax in turns, as your lips purse only to fall open for every little, pleasured noise that bubbles up inside of you. The loose collar of your nightgown falls off of your shoulder, and his mouth finds your exposed collarbone, tongue lapping greedily (but harmlessly, he reminds himself, harmlessly) over your chest. It’s strange, how drawn he is to you, but not unexpected. Rot always spreads the fastest when fed with fresh meat.

You arch your back, crying out as his fingers curl inside of you, and his head dips lower – latching onto your nipple and sucking gently, gently, his teeth barely grazing your skin. Your hands knead satin sheets mindlessly, and against his will, his mind drifts to how you’d look if you were ever forced to take something more substantial than his fingers, if you’d paw at his chest the same way as he eased you onto his cock. The thought alone has his digits pumping into you with a reckless sort of haste, his palm grinding sloppily against your clit until you stiffen underneath him, until your pretty cunt spasms and drips around his fingers.

Ultimately, it’s not your climax that wakes you, but his own weakness. You buck against his hand and, with a deep groan, he slips – teeth burrowing into the supple curve of your breast with just a touch more force than he’d ever used, before. His eyes dart back to your face just as yours blearily flutter open, still weighed down by sleep and clouded by exhaustion. In the place of panic, displeasure, you portray only confusion – the corner of your lips quirking downward as you struggle to make sense of the sight in front of you. It’s only as he draws back, carefully removing his hand from the space between your thighs and resuming a more dignified position, that you seem to remember how to speak. “…my lord?”

“It’s only a dream, my love.” He cups your cheek, tilting your head back and pressing another feather-light kiss into your forehead, then your cheek. “Close your eyes and rest.”

Your gaze remains fixed on him for a second longer, but with time and coaxing, you retreat back into yourself, letting your eyes close and your head lull into his hand. With an airy laugh, he lays you down, righting your nightgown and covering you with the sheets and quilts you neglected, when trusted with the task on your own.

It only takes him minutes to don his helmet and slip out of your bedroom and yet, by the time he crosses the threshold, he’s already longing for tomorrow’s visit to come all the sooner.

You can count the number of times you’ve sought Capitano out on a single hand. You try to limit how often you speak to him, how many reasons he has to re-think the convince of his marriage to you, but doing dangerous things is sometimes necessary. You hope that, one day, you’ll grow a bit braver and those dangerous things won’t be so hard to do, but that’s not a reality you currently live in and, thus, not a reality worth entertaining, at the moment.

(You also hope that, one day, you won’t consider it dangerous to speak to your own husband, but as you’ve already explained, fantasy is something you rarely had time for. Best not to focus on something so romantically outlandish and devote your attention to crueler truths.)

You find him in his war room of an office, where he almost always resides when he’s home. You can hear him muttering to members of his legion as you approach, but by the time you reach the doorway, they’ve been sent elsewhere – out of earshot. You’d planned to hold your composure, to meet the void where Capitano’s eyes should’ve been, but it’s one thing to plan to be daring and another to try and force yourself into the pit of endless blackness existed beneath his helmet. Ultimately, you settle for keeping your eyes narrowed at your own feet and your shoulders squared as you break the quiet.

“Good morning, my lord. I’m so sorry to bother you, but…” Suddenly, your throat feels dry, your legs unsteady. You risk a quick glance toward him, but regret it in an instant. You wish he wouldn’t wear that helmet, not at home, not around you. You’d heard that his face was no great work of art, that he’d been left scarred by some ancient battle, but it couldn’t have possibly been worse than the blankness he expects you to satiate yourself with, in place of anything more substantial. Many people had scars, but very few thought to hide them underneath such punishing masks.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to go on. “Were you in my bedroom last night?”

His back straightens, and for a moment, you’re able to convince yourself that, if you’d been able to see his expression, he would’ve looked taken aback. “Of course not,” he says, and you take pains to convince yourself that the note of condensation you hear is simply a product of your imagination. “Why do you ask? Did something disturb you?”

You try (and fail) not to recall the distorted fragments that’d been haunting you all morning – all broken, all confused, too ungrounded to be called a memory yet too vivid to be written off entirely as a dream. A sharp pressure in the pit of your stomach, a damp heat dripping down your chest, a man with a scarred face and your husband’s voice laid over you; none of it makes sense, but you can see it in your mind clear as day, feel its realness in the soreness of your chest and the ache between your thighs. Capitano has never shown an interest in, uh, consummating your marriage, and even if he did, you would never think him capable of something like… like that. He’s a Harbinger, a leader, an honorable man – albeit, a very cold one, too. Even if he’s never been particularly kind to you, he isn’t a monster, and you would be ashamed to think of him as one.

“No, no, it was my mistake. I—I think it was just a bad dream.” You force yourself to laugh, falling into a shallow courtesy. Of course. Of course. It’d only been a dream. It was foolish of you to come to him at all. “I’m sorry to waste your time on such a petty matter, my lord.”

His solace comes in the form of a curt nod, a silent dismissal. You take that as a sign to make your escape, retreating before you can say anything else to make yourself seem paranoid and foolish.

Hopefully, tonight will prove to be more restful.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #yandere capitano #capitano x reader #capitano x you

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 1 month ago

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🧚‍♀️ Anon

Okay so I rewatched Nightmare on Elm Street with my Uncle and I was suddenly struck with an idea, so here it is (I’ll get more ideas as I go for the spooky season)

Yandere Dream Demon!Diavolo who’s been tormenting and killing the people who caused his demise, only he’s now targeting Trish who’s trying to understand who he is and why he’s targeting her (Along with strange memories and feelings that she knows him somewhere in her past)

Only to learn from her Mother, Darling, that this Diavolo can’t hurt her because he’s dead, as she killed him to protect her daughter Trish and married Bruno (Darling killed Diavolo when Trish was a baby to protect her)

Diavolo is trying to kill Trish for revenge (As he believes it’s her fault for his death) and plans to take Darling to his realm forever (It’s Trish’s fears that are feeding Diavolo’s powers)

Trish and Bruno have to work together along with the individuals Diavolo’s been tormenting (Leone, Mista, Giorno and Narancia) to save Darling from his twisted Dream Realm

I kinda went crazy with this as it’s loosely based off Nightmare on Elm Street

Ooh cool.

So darling was in a relationship with diavolo as a human and one day she left due how toxic the relationship was and finding out she was pregnant.

After giving birth to Trish she meets Bruno and all seemed well til one night while Bruno is on a business trip. Darling hears someone in the house in the early hours of the morning. So she investigates, grabbing a knife in the process. She hears muttering from Trish's room and find someone hovering over her sleeping daughter. She immediately stabs the individual and is horrorfied to see it's her ex.

He tells her that he's going to make her life hell and kill everyone she ever cared about and she kills him. Shortly after Bruno walks in, having arrived early and wanting to surprise her only to stumble into the scene. He knows about Diavolo and everything he did. They call the police and it's deemed self defence.

From then on darling has constant nightmares about Diavolo and wakes up with bruises and scratches on her body. A shaman approaches her, sensing Diavolo's presence and offers to try and repel him. She does along with Bruno and Trish and everything returns to normal.

However Diavolo is not going to stop. He begins to torment others, rumors spread of a pink haired bogey man who haunts and kills people in their sleep and that fear makes him stronger.

And like he claimed before death, he starts targeting people darling knows. Including a now teen Trish. However she always wakes up before dying due to the ritual.

She opens up to darling and she's horrified, tries reaching out to the shaman again but they're found dead in their bed. Trish asks what's going on and who the man from her dreams is.

Darling sits her down and explains to her that man is her biological father and that he broke into their house with the intent to harm them, she killed him and now his spirit haunts them.

She ends up tell her friends. close childhood friend and classmate Giorno and upperclassmen Mista and Narancia.

Narancia is familiar with the urban legend and is quick to explain everything he knows probably with a silly quip about her relation to the pink haired boogeyman. He doesn't really believe it but is surprising big fan of urban legends and the supernatural.

Of course Narancia is not cool with the situation after he's been visited, flashing off a grizzly cut across his arm. Slowly everyone else starts having nightmares and now Diavolo is able to breakthrough.

One morning darling doesn't wake up and is taken to the hospital. The doctors are confused by her condition as her brain activity is extremely active.

Bruno immediately leaves the hospital with Trish who's confused as to why he's leaving. When they get home he reveals a large scar along his chest, Diavolo visited him that night and told him that he intended to take darling away and that is proof that he has.

Bruno reveals that he met someone who offered a way to rid them of Diavolo for good but it would involve going into the dream world, Where Diavolo has an advantage.

That's when his friend Leone arrives, covered in scars from previous nightmares. She questions why he's alive if Diavolo kills people in their sleep. It's assumed he keeps people around them to suffer to instil more fear.

Bruno and Leone intend to go through with the ritual alone but knowing this Diavolo draws in Trish and friends too.

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere x reader #🧚‍♀️ anon #yandere #yandere diavolo

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diabolik-lovers-weekly · 1 month ago

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𝙼𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝙷𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝

��𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖍... 𝕺𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖜𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖛𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖍? 31 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘~ 𝕷𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖚𝖕 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍.

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

The theme for 2024 is Horror Movies.

The following prompts are based off of horror movies. Classics like ‘Psycho’, ‘Halloween’, and ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’. And more new horror films like ‘Megan’, ‘Smile’, and ‘Dark Water’. With this prompt set, you may write/draw the characters watching a scary movie, or experiencing it. One might find the watching option favors the more faint of heart. So we recommend this for non-horror or gore lovers, as it can result in fluff.

︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶

Rules and Information:

Post on Tumblr, with the tags #diabolik_lovers_weekly , #MidnightHorrors2024

Tag us in the post: @diabolik_lovers_weekly

You may create anything with this prompt, but nothing with any sexual content.

You may post any time this month, but anything that comes in after October 31st may not be reblogged to our account.

Continue for Prompts

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

~Prompts~

Psycho

Smile

Tarot Cards

Body Horror

Haunted Hotels

Ghost Stories

Blood

Camp Horror

Serial Killers

Cannibalism

Psychologcal Horror

Dark Water/Drowning

Horror Folk Tales

Masks

Broken Bones

VooDoo

Spells

Witches

Technology

Stalkers

Yandere

Pills

Kidnapping

Houses

Poison

Spiders/Bugs

Small Towns

Taxidermy

Experimentation

Found Footage

Child Killers

Have fun~

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fandom #dialovers #diahell #reiji sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #shu sakamaki #laito sakamaki #yui komori #writing challenge #art challenge #diaboliklovers #dialover #diabolik lovers ask blog #diaboys #MidnightHorror 2024 #diabolik_lovers_weekly

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reareaotaku · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Glen Lantz Headcanons

Tw: Slight NSFW [Might write another one of him, depending on how well this does]

His controlling mother doesn't like you

Though, that makes him like you more. It's something about rebelling against his mom that turns him on

Speaking of turning on, he's a horny little bastard

Always wants to get inside your pants

He's loud and groans a lot

His dick is lean and long, medium girth with a pretty pink tip

He loves you and is willing to do whatever you want, but that doesn't mean he's very good at it [AKA Unreliable]

^ Ask him to stay up and watch you sleep, and while he has watched you sleep before, when you ask him to do it, he has a harder time doing it. He just wants to cuddle in bed with you. God you look so nice and warm

Though, when he's in your dream, he'll smash Freddy's head and grab you, taking you away

He's not the strongest guy in the world, but he is protective over you

Always has an arm wrapped around you, no matter where it is [Waist, Shoulder, Hip, etc]

Loves leaning his head on your shoulder and hugging you from behind

Freddy uses you against Glen [Especially in his dreams. He'll make an illusion of you and hold you hostage. Making you cry in an alley, leading him towards you, etc]

He's madly inlove with you. He's probably more in love with you than you are him

Sneaks in into your room through your window

Your parents are iffy about him, because they know that he's having sex with you. But he's a good boyfriend to you, so as long as they don't hear you fucking-

^ Even though they're okay with Glen, they don't want him spending the night with you or being in your home alone together, because they know that's when you're getting down. Though that doesn't really stop him from seeing you

#nightmare on elm street #glen lantz #glen lantz x reader #yandere glen lantz #yandere glen lantz x reader #yandere horror #yandere horror x reader #yandere nightmare on elm street #yandere nightmare on elm street x reader

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago

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⤷✿.｡Since you voted yes to commissions, so here we are. I was a little unsure about the price, so I researched and tried to make it as fair as possible. I hope you agree with this! ❤️

Also, this is completely optional! If you don't want to, you don't have to request a commission! All the other requests works the same way!! ⤷♡.+ n a v i g a t i o n.

⤷♡.+ Status: OPEN.

What I would write

I write for any gender, both character and Reader/OC, be it female, male, neutral transsexual. Any.

Yandere!Character x Reader, Yandere!Reader x Yandere!Character, Yandere!OC x Reader and Yandere!OC X OC.

Dark!Au, Gore, Disorders, Smut/NSFW, explicit language, soft!yandere, alternative AU, Horror, Age gap (depends on how much).

Romantic, platonic and general Yanderes, as well as more specific themes; example: yandere x depressive!reader.

Stockholm syndrome.

Pregnancy, childbirth and death in childbirth.

Non-Con, Dub-Con, BDSM.

Fluff; non-yandere.

Monsterfucking, specific kinks.

Angst.

What I DON'T write

Any kind of NSFW content with children, anything with children will just be platonic.

I don't write NSFW with characters that have a childish appearance or personality, just platonic.

I don't usually write ships because I consider it something personal, but I can do it if someone wants to.

Age play, scap.

Minor x Adult (only platonic).

Prices (in $ and R$)

Headcanons

2,00 $/R$ 2,00 for 500 words;

6,00 $/R$ 6,00 for 1000 words;

12,00 $/R$ 12,00 for 2000 words;

NSFW content adds an additional charge of $3,00/R$3,00.

Imagines, Scenarios, Reactions, Oneshots, Prompts

3,00 $/R$ 4,00 for 500 words;

10,00 $/R$ 13,00 for 1000 words;

18,00 $/R$ 18,00 for 2000 words;

20,00 $/R$ 20,00 for 3000 words.

NSFW content adds an additional charge of $5,00/R$6,00.

My list of current fandoms, but I can always add more:

Anime

Attack on Titan, Amensia, Death Note, Demon Slayer, Diabolik Lovers, Fruits Basket, Haikyuu!!, Hakuoki, Hunter x Hunter, Jujutsu Kaisen, Kamigami no Asobi, Naruto, Mirai Nikki, One Piece, Blood of Zeus.

Books

Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, A Song of Ice and Fire, Pegasus and The Flame of Olympus (series), IT., A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR), The Bridgertons, Twilight, The Lord of the Rings, The Cruel Prince: The Folk of the Air, The Bridgertons, Twilight.

Games

Genshin Impact, Detroit Become Human, Mystic Messenger, Time Princess Dress Up (TP: characters), Yandere Simulator, My Candy Love (Amour Sucré), Arkyos Angel, A Plague Tale.

K-Pop

BTS, BLACKPINK, GOT7, EXO, BIGBANG, TWICE, AESPA, Stray Kids, ITZY, Hyuna and Dawn, Red Velvet, NCT, Monsta X, Taemin, Dreamcatcher, LE SSERAFIM, (G)I-DLE.

Series/TV Show

Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, The Originals, The Vampire Diaries, Teen Wolf, Supernatural, Outer Banks, Friends, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Euphoria, Reign, Bridgerton, The Flash, Supergirl, Outlander, American Horror Story, Wednesday, Riverdale, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, The Sandman, Lucifer, Winx Club, Ragnarok, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, Invisible City (Cidade Invisível), Shadow and Bone, Adventure Time, The Witcher, Rebelde MX (RBD), Heartstopper, Hannibal, Criminal Minds, The Last Kingdom.

Movies

Disney Universe, Marvel Universe, DC Universe, Maze Runner, Halloween, Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Transformers, How to Train Your Dragon, Miraculous, Ever After High, Monster High, Barbie Universe, Christmas Movies, Maze Runner, Avatar, Twilight, Star Wars.

K-Dramas

My Demon, Bussiness Proposal, Doom At Your Service, Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha, Crash Landing on You, My Name, Mr Queen, King the Land.

Mythology

Greek, Egyptian, Norse Mythology and Brazilian Folklore.

Historical Characters

Alexander the Great, Cleopatra, Caesar Augustus, Julius Caesar and etc...

Additional Information

I accept payment via PayPal and Pic Pay only (PayPal = Ko-Fi)

Payment must be made before I start and I will always send you updates if you ask me.

I write in English and Portuguese.

I have a deadline of 5 to 10 days to complete your commission, however, if something unforeseen happens and it ends up being delayed, I will inform you.

If I write more than what was asked, obviously there will be no additions.

If you are interested, DM me with details and feel free to ask me anything.

#yandere #dark #yandere au #dark au #commissions #writing commissions

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g0blintears · 5 months ago

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Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Five. Vigil

NOTE: Spoilers for A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010)

TW: gore, MC is invasive but they’re learning boundaries

Laying in the cold paper thin bedsheets of his mattress, Quentin tossed and turned with his eyes screwed shut and his heart hammering against his chest. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, causing his shaggy brown hair to cling to his skin. The male clenched his teeth. He was trying desperately to sleep, but he couldn't stop the memories that flashed in his mind.

Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Just go to sleep.

He chanted in his head, but no matter how many times he tried to convince himself to sleep, he couldn't stop his past from haunting him.

Dean. Kriss. Jesse. He can still see them hanging on the walls of the boiler room. Dean's cold lifeless eyes would bore into him. The slit across his throat would have Quentin subconsciously gripping his own neck as though he himself had the same wound. Kriss would be right next to Dean. She would be hanging in her nightgown, bloodied and torn to shreds with her body ripped open and her inner intestines pooling out onto the cement floor. Jesse would be on the other side of Kriss. His jaw slacked open into a scream with a giant hole punctured into his chest.

They were dead. All of his friends were dead. Nothing more than hung up hollow corpses that were void of any soul, and yet, as he stared up at their swaying bodies, Quentin could practically hear their blood-curdling screams that shrieked with every steam that blew around him. Freddy was toying with him. He had become delirious; ridden with fear as he searched around the flame covered basement. The steam in the boiler room hissed and cried, echoing all around like terrified shrieks of the damned. He was scared, but Quentin persisted in his search of Nancy. He remembered looking everywhere for her. His heart pounding in his chest and his eyes wavering all around to find the brunette only for more flames to engulf his vision.

Quentin curled up into a fetal position. His hands clamped onto his head as he shook in his bed. A pathetic attempt to bring himself comfort only for more memories to resurface.

"Wake up, Nancy! Wake up!"

Tears would form in his eyes upon seeing her motionless body, unaware that she was crying out in fear as Freddy trailed his claws over her chest while she was stuck with him in the dream state.

Nancy lying in bed, her body limp as she was trapped in the nightmare. Quentin hovered over her, his fingers clenched around her shoulders as he gave her a rough shake.

"Nancy, please don't do this! Please! Nancy, come back! Please, wake up! You promised!"

He remembered reaching over for the adrenaline shot. With blood stained fingers, he lifted the syringe over his head and plunged it into her chest. At the time he was relieved when she woke up with a start. However, his relief would be short-lived once Freddy entered the real world.

Both him and Nancy would fight Freddy to the death. While he was on the floor watching as Freddy stared at his decapitated hand in shock, Nancy would use that opportunity to take a sharp metal rod and end Freddy's life in a single swipe. With his throat slit opened, black ooze gushing out of his neck, the dream demon would collapse, lying in a pool of his own blood.

It would end there. It was supposed to end there. Him and Nancy being taken away in an ambulance, holding each other for comfort from the horrors they had to face.

Except it didn't end.

After Nancy's mom disappeared, he knew the fight wasn't over. Sure, it may have ended for Nancy. But for him? Quentin wasn't done. He wanted to make sure Freddy died and got dragged back into hell before he could even think to lay another finger on Nancy. He wanted that dream demon to pay for everything he's done. Not just to him and his friends when they were children, but for the lives he took and ruined along the way. He wanted to make sure that Freddy Krueger died, burning in a fiery inferno where he belonged.

Quentin grit his teeth.

He could still see it. That place where it all began. Badham's Preschool. Quentin had run through the empty hallways, the fluorescent lights flickered over his head. His sneakers squeaked with every step, but he didn't stop running. Zigzagging through the different rooms, he remembered running into a can of paint thinner, immediately a plan formed in his head.

He taunted Freddy. Shouting swears until he successfully lured the killer into his trap. A smile had formed on his face, enjoying the scene of Freddy's shocked face when he looked around at the flames that engulfed him. Fire reigned upon the preschool. While Freddy succumbed to the heated flames, Quentin took that chance to run.

He ran and ran until he found himself back to the basement, and in Freddy's secret room. He had been cornered with Freddy trailing behind him with a wicked grin. The killer had thought he had won, but Quentin refused to go down. Not until he saw Freddy's corpse six feet under. He wanted him dead. If Quentin had any sort of murderous bone in his body, it was reserved just for Freddy. He wanted him dead, and he was going to do whatever he could to make sure that happened.

He let those dark thoughts consume him. It was the dream realm afterall. Everything he learned he brought up to the table, unaware of the growing fog and tendrils that rose from the ground.

With his body covered in a black mist, the brunet would find himself alone. He looked around in the empty void, lost and confused. Did he do it? He walked around a bit. This place felt like a dream, but not one that was familiar to him. He wandered around into the space of nothingness until his eyes caught sight of a figure in the distance. The mystery person wore a red and green striped sweater and a familiar looking fedora that made Quentin's hands clenched into fists.

The figure would look over his shoulder. He would rub his claws together, the sickening sound of metal scraping against each other filled in the deafening silence between them. The Nightmare would let out a sinister laugh, a wicked grin forming on his burnt lips.

One, two, Freddy's coming for you

Three, four, better lock your door

Five, six, grab your crucifix

Seven, eight, better stay up late

Nine, ten, Freddy's back again

"Hey, Quentin. Did ya miss me?"

Quentin shot up in a cold sweat.

His body ached and his fingers dug into the flimsy bed sheets as though it were his only lifeline. The male looked around the room, his eyes scanned the quiet cabin for any signs of the dream demon. The only thing he could see were dark wooden floorboards and a single light bulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling.

Brushing his hair out of his vision, Quentin rubbed his face in exhaustion. His eyes stung from the many sleepless nights where he would try to fall asleep only for his mind to haunt him with flashes of his past.

He thought it was over. He thought once Freddy was gone from the dream state then the nightmares would finally end.

It didn't.

Once he entered the fog, Quentin found himself in a never ending battle for survival. Serial killers, monsters, new demons he couldn't fathom even existing, all of them in this realm for him to face. And worst of all? Freddy was still alive. He was in this damned place too. All of his efforts, those countless sleepless nights of drinking redbull and gulping down modafinil tablets while huddled in a corner of the library, studying books, articles, and papers on lucid dreaming, all of that to make sure Freddy died and stayed in the darkest pits of the underworld- it was all for nothing.

The fog, it was a special kind of eternal damnation. No matter if Quentin stays awake or lets himself succumb to death, he would always find himself right back where he started.

In a sick twisted turn of events, Quentin sometimes often thought to himself that maybe he did get his wish. Freddy Krueger could no longer harm Nancy. The dream demon was trapped in the entity's grasp, forever serving as nothing more than a pawn.

And all it took was for Quentin to go to Hell and drag Freddy there with him.

The door knob to his cabin door twisted, catching his attention. The fearful man clenched his bedsheets in anticipation, adrenaline still running through his veins as he watched with wide brown eyes as the door slowly creaked open.

From the shadows of the night, in stepped your familiar silhouette, causing the male to release a heavy sigh. It was just you.

You walked into the cabin. Gently closing the door behind you, you turned your attention over to the restless survivor on the bed.

"You are still awake." You state with your cold [eye color] eyes observing the male, "You should be resting for your next trial."

Quentin screwed his eyes shut once more. He knew that already. He knew he should be asleep. He knew that he should be resting so he didn't hinder his teammates in the trials, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. How ironic. Back on Elm Street he was fighting the urge to sleep, but now? He needed it more than ever if he wanted to survive.

"Yeah I know, I'm just not tired," he lamely explained, but that answer didn't seem to satisfy you.

"You need to rest for your next trial." You repeated, much to Quentin's annoyance.

"Yeah, I know. But I already told you, I'm not tired." He snapped back. Weaving his fingers through his tangled hair, Quentin moved his eyes to you once more, and glared. "So I would appreciate it if you would just leave it at that and just piss off." The aggression in his voice was practically dripping with warning as he turned away with his hands clenched and his body teetering back and forth. Quentin could already feel himself on the edge of a breakdown, and having you around wasn't helping him calm down. So he had hoped you would take the hint and leave, but in spite of his irritable behavior, your demeanor never once wavered.

"In your last trial you had blown up a generator over ten times. You had caused The Nurse to change targets and you had gotten your teammate killed in the process."

Quentin's once tired eyes hardened. Why did you bring that up? Hadn't he already beaten himself up for that already? When he first entered the fog, he would always be there to lend a helping hand. He was the one the survivors went to when an injured person needed a medic. He was there to help with quick thought out plans and a fighting spirit.

But over time, that started to die out. He was getting sloppy. With each escape, he felt his will to survive slowly unravel, revealing a tired worn out young man that just wanted to rest. He tried desperately to keep up with the others, but he was drained. Nightmare after nightmare, Quentin became paranoid. He couldn't sleep. He would often faint from the lack of sleep, and when he awoke, all of his teammates would be dead and the hatch locked. Leaving him in the dying state as he embraced the entity's tendrils that would pierce his body until he awoke once more at the campfire.

He knew he had become a problem. The survivors would often give him a side-eyed glance when he walked by, but he couldn't help it. He tried. And tried. And tried. But he was tired of trying. He was done.

A sneer made its way to his lips. He snapped.

"I'm tired, okay!” He heaved, “I’m so fucking tired but I can't sleep! Every time I close my eyes, I see that bastard's face! You think I can sleep after everything he's done to me and my friends?! Who the fuck can sleep after seeing their close friends fucking corpses?! I sure as fuck can't! No matter how tired I am, I can't let myself go to sleep!" He shouted. By now he was standing to his feet, hovering a few meters before you with his chest puffing up and down as he took heavy breaths. Quentin stared at you. If his eyes weren't so dry, he might've actually cried.

"Do you know how frustrating it is to want something so bad, but you can't go for it because of your own mind? Constantly sabotaging myself and others— FUCK. I'm such a fuck up! I want to go to sleep again! I want to be useful to my team again— an-and, I even want to dream again. Good dreams, not the same bullshit nightmare I see every time I close my fucking eyes." With his body trembling, Quentin's gaze bored into yours, his blood shot eyes pleading as he held your stare.

"Why am I even suffering like this?" He asked, his voice raspy with his throat cut and dry. Shaking his head, Quentin let out a humorless laugh, "You know what? It's fine...I'm fine with suffering like this," His breathing was shallow and his entire body was hot with a hurricane of emotions. Despair. Fear. And worst of it all, rage.

"I'd be fine being here if only— if only I knew that he was fucking dead. But why? Why isn't he fucking dead?!" He screamed, "What the fuck am I still doing here?! What is this all for anyways?! It's just nightmare after nightmare, isn't it?! It's shit! It's fucking shit! This place is bullshit!"

Quentin shouted. His eyes finally caved in to his raw emotions with warm tears that streamed down his cheeks. Quentin cried, his face burning red and his body shaking, but he didn't falter his eyes away from you. He stared you down, pleading for an answer. He wished you would tell him. Tell him that Freddy Kruger can die for good. Tell him that Quentin's wish can come true. 'You want him dead? Be my guest,' and let Quentin end The Nightmare once and for all.

But no. As Quentin trembled before you with glossy eyes and an inch of hope, you met his stare with a shroud of mist.

Fuck, what was he even doing?

His hands moved straight to his face. Quickly wiping at his face to dry off his blurry vision, Quentin let out a groan. Letting his body fall limp, he sat back on his mattress and rubbed his hands over his closed eyes.

"I'm tired."

The air fell silent.

It felt like an eternity passed before Quentin felt his rage subdue and be replaced with nothing but pure exhaustion. When was the last time he vented out all of his anger? It had been a while. Now that he finally let his thoughts loose, he felt nothing. He was just done.

His eyes finally went back to you. You were still standing by the door, having not moved an inch during his entire mental breakdown.

He released a sigh. Rubbing his eyes, he spoke. "What're you doing in my room, anyways?" He asked, eyeing you down with a frown. "You always just barge in without announcement. Ever heard of knocking?"

And finally, for once the entire time since you've been in his cabin, you replied.

"No."

Quentin scoffed. "Of course not, what should I expect from you." He grumbled. Ruffling his wavy brown locks, Quentin sighed once more before turning his attention back to you. "Well knocking is what polite people do to inform someone that they're coming in." He explained in a snarky tone. Making a fist, he used the back of his hand to knock on wooden bed frame. "Like that."

"I see."

Still standing by the door, you used the back of your gloved knuckles to give his door a gentle knock. You then turned to him with a poker face.

"There. From now on I will knock on the door-"

Quentin nodded, a yawn leaving his lips. "Good."

"-after I've entered the room."

He looked at you in disbelief, "What?"

You stood up straighter. "I said I'll knock after I've entered the room, thus announcing my arrival." You responded, almost factual as if you were the one teaching him about knocking.

Quentin could only look at you with a pointed stare. He was too tired to laugh.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, you do it before entering. That way you don't just scare someone or embarrass them. You let them know before so they could either tell you to wait or come in."

You stared at him without saying anything. The male didn't have to see it to know you were confused.

"You know what? Nevermind."

You gave a curt nod before walking further into the room.

"To answer your first question, I have come to give you clean bed sheets." You said, stepping into his line of sight. It was then that Quentin noticed the bundle of white held in your arms.

"Oh."

You gently set the fresh blankets onto the empty wooden desk besides his bed.

Quentin could only stare at the bedsheets, his mind going blank. "Thanks." He mumbled.

Feeling a wave of exhaustion, Quentin threw his head back. Closing his eyes, he ignored your presence as to let his restless mind wander.

While he laid back on the mattress, you turned to face him. You watched as he fought down another yawn. He was a peculiar one. He claims to be so tired, but he won't allow himself to rest. The human psyche worked in mysterious ways. Ways you couldn't understand, but you found intriguing. This particular survivor was a stubborn one, full of hatred and determination. He hated being in the realm, he hated that the dream demon was still alive. However, he still had a drive to see the killer suffer. Unknown to the brunet male, it was his restless obsession to end the dream demon that drew the entity to him. It was that same drive that kept him here and not thrown into the void.

Tired? It was a mere bump in the road, one easily conquered if he were to just allow himself to replenish his energy. How bad has his condition gotten since you've last seen him?

Walking over to his bedside, Quentin felt your shadow loom over him, causing him to open his eyes and slowly sit up.

"What do you want-?"

Before he could finish that sentence, you had leaned down to his eye level. Both of your hands cupped his cheeks, and tilted his head up to meet your ice cold gaze.

Quentin felt his face heat up. He could feel your cold touch hit his pale skin. You were so close, so much so that he could smell the strong scent of burning wood and fresh pine linger off of you. With your face moving closer to his, he could see those pools of [eye color] brighten in hue as you stared at him with your pupils dilating smaller and smaller. It was fascinating, if not scary, seeing the colors in your eyes swirl with life. [Eye color] tones mixed with gold swirls, he has seen your eyes ever glow like this when the two of you would meet up for check-ups, and every time he saw your eyes, he was in awe.

But not this time. Caught off guard, his heart thumped against his chest in fear as you stared at him, expressionless.

"Wh- hey! What're you doing?!" He sputtered, trying to pull himself away. If he weren't so exhausted, he could've probably escaped your grip, but his body failed him, making him sit still as you brushed your fingers across his cheeks.

"I'm scanning your health." You explained, bringing your hand to his temples. "You've been through this process before. I'd assume you would know that by now."

"Well- yeah, but I'd be aware of it first!" Quentin hissed, his body finally moving on his command as he brought his hand up and gripped one of your wrists. It was then that you looked at him, head tilted a bit and the swirl of colors fading in your eyes.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes." He responded, his eyes not once faltering from your gaze, "Remember the knocking thing?"

"Yes."

"Well, this applies with the same rules. It's only polite to let me know you're going to scan my health before you go on touching me whenever you want. Even then I don't appreciate that."

"Why is that?"

"Because it’s just not okay with me.” As Quentin stared at you, he could see the information sinking in. The touch on his temple was being ever so slightly lifted away, causing him to loosen his own grip.

"I see." You mumbled, brows furrowed for a brief moment before you went back to your stoic expression. "I apologize if what I did is considered impolite.”

Quentin let out a long sigh. He couldn’t quite blame you for not understanding. It wasn’t as if you were intentionally trying to be invasive anyways. You were just another weird species in the realm that had the inability to understand boundaries. So while he still didn’t appreciate you always shadowing over him and the others, he knew that you never really had any ill intent.

“It’s fine.” He groaned into his hands, rubbing at his restless face, “At the very least, you know now."

“Thank you. I will to be sure to learn from this experience and remember to always inform you when I will be performing a wellness check." You commented, eyes stern as you stared down at him. “However, I do need to continue to scan your vitals. So I will inform you right now that I will be checking on your health. It is my duty to ensure all survivors are—.”

“—adequate enough to perform in trials. yeah, yeah. I know the drill.” Quentin rolled his eyes. Of course you wouldn’t completely follow his words. Why would you? It wasn’t as if you were in an allegiance with him. He was just another prisoner in the realm— one of many victims to the entity. He was just lucky you even took his words into consideration when you had no obligation to.

So, with his head rolling back to face the ceiling, Quentin mumbled a string of swears under his breath before meting your eyes once more.

“Fine. Just make it quick." He grumbled, watching you nod and gently rest your fingers back onto his temple. While you hovered over him, Quentin could feel his face warm up once more with every passing second he took looking at you. He could see every detail of your face. The shape of your eyes and the swirl of colors in your irises, his eyes moved across your face where he noted the peach fuzz on your cheeks and followed along the curves of your lips.

Your body was almost flushed against his. Your legs stood against the side of the bed, but your body leaned in close as your hands moved across his forehead. If anyone saw him now, they would think the two of you were being intimate with the way you brushed his hair off his skin and gently caressed the space under his eyes.

Although you were way too close for comfort, he had to admit that the way you were holding his face with delicate care was really soothing. He could feel his heart returning to an even pace and his body relax under your touch. He knew he shouldn't be letting his guard down, especially around someone who works under the creature that brought him here, but the way your hands cupped his face made him feel safe again. He let his eyes close, this time without Freddy popping into his vision.

"You're sleep deprived. Your insomnia has caused you to have high blood pressure and become easily irritable."

You released his face, making him stumble forward and blink himself awake.

You straightened up, your eyes gazed down at him almost as if you were scolding him.

"I've already informed you, but The Nightmare has no access to getting to the survivors' side of the map. And even if it were plausible, all killings outside the map are strictly forbidden and are punishable."

Quentin turned his face away, his once relaxed posture straightening up as he sat back against the bed frame. His embarrassment long forgotten upon hearing his diagnosis.

"I already know all that. I keep telling you, no matter how many times you tell me these things, I can't go to sleep."

"Well, you haven't been visiting the medical cabin as much. I merely assumed you go when I'm not around. Have you stopped taking your pills?"

Quentin sighed, "They stopped working."

You were confused.

"If that was the case then why haven't you come to see me? I could always prepare you with other medication."

Quentin let out a sarcastic laugh. "So the others can keep questioning me? I already get a bad rep by falling asleep in trials, I don't want the others asking anymore questions. It'll just cause more problems."

You didn't understand why it was such a big deal, but if the brunet survivor was going to be stubborn then you would have to find other means for him to rest. Getting off the bed, you straightened yourself out before looking back over to him.

"If that's the case, then do you have any other methods of being able to fall asleep?"

Other methods?

Quentin scratched the back of his head. "Ugh, not that I know of."

The male racked in his brain for any memories. Warm milk did nothing. He's already tried exercising. And sleeping pills...he's taken so many that he's pretty sure that if he survived every one of his trials then he'd die of bad intestines. He's done pretty much everything.

A sudden flash of Nancy came to mind, causing Quentin to halt. Nancy.

He remembered those nights with Nancy after they both thought they had killed Freddy. He remembered how he would hold Nancy to sleep, lulling her with sweet words followed by small kisses. He remembered holding her as the visions would come flooding in, but once he tightened his hold on her, feeling her body against his as he cuddled her like a safety blanket, the visions would go away. It was all Nancy. Nancy was his reason to keep going. She made him strong. She was what kept him sane and the nightmares away. She was his everything.

A ghost of a smile moved on his lips.

"Did you think of something?" You asked, having witnessed his change of demeanor.

Quentin snapped out of his daze. Meeting your observing eyes, Quentin coughed into his hand, hiding his blushing face. "Yeah, but it's dumb."

"Please share." You urged, "it is vital you get your sleep to be proficient in trials."

Quentin felt his finger clam up. He hadn't really spoken about Nancy before to anyone in the fog, and quite frankly, he really didn't want to. But knowing you, if he didn't share what he had been thinking about, then you would never go away.

"When Freddy was constantly harassing me and my friends, there was this girl." He started, his mind wandering into a haze of broken memories. "She was warm, funny, a fighter- the coolest person you would ever meet. Her presence made me forget Freddy was even around." He chuckled, remembering the small moments between him and Nancy.

"Back home when we thought Freddy had died, we became a thing. Ever since those nights on Elm Street, we would always sleepover at each other's houses. We were paranoid, but being around each other brought us both comfort. Well, for me at least. I was always the one that was supposed to keep her safe, but she always made me feel safe."

Quentin smiled, "She was amazing."

The male let his mind wander, reminiscing about his time with Nancy. How long had it been since he last saw her? How was she doing? Although Quentin hated being in this realm, he was happy it was him and not Nancy.

"Unfortunately I can't bring that person here to this realm." You replied, causing Quentin to look up at you, alarmed.

"No, that's not what I want! Even if you could bring her here- that's the last thing I would want to happen!" He exclaimed, his heart aching at the thought. "Anything but that."

Burying himself in his arms, he mumbled. "I just miss not being alone."

So that's what it was.

"Well, would you perhaps want me to stay? Another presence in the room might make you feel safe from the Nightmare. You already know he can not leave the killer's side of the realm, but if it brings you peace to have someone watch over you, I can stay until you rest."

Quentin really, really wanted to decline. Although he's known you for quite some time, he didn't really know you, know you. It would be like a stranger watching over him as he slept. But, you were his only option. He didn't want to bother anyone anymore with his restless condition, and if having you in the room as he slept would keep him from bothering the other survivors, then so be it.

Quentin met your eyes and gave a hesitant nod.

"Then, please." You motioned towards the bed, "Get some rest."

Quentin reluctantly laid back in his bed. Settling under the sheets, the brunet motioned over to the desk and chair next to his bed. "You can sit there if you want."

You looked back over at the desk, and nodded. As you pulled the chair from the table and sat back, Quentin took his time setting himself back into a more comfortable position in the sheets. Although he wasn't the most comfortable in his jeans and jacket, he refused to be any more vulnerable in front of you than he already has been.

Closing his eyes, the tired male tried to relax.

Key word: tried.

While he laid in silence, he could feel your eyes bore into him, studying his movements like an animal in a zoo.

He furrowed his brows, "It's hard to sleep when you're staring at me."

"I apologize."

Another moment of silence, but this time, he could actually feel himself relax. Your strong scent of fresh pine still lingered in the air, making him forget about any thoughts of the dream demon. The only thing he could think about was your scent and the ghostly touch of fingers on his face. Before drifting off to sleep, Quentin looked over at you.

You stared out at the window, the darkness of the wilderness reflecting in your eyes.

He wanted to thank you for staying with him. But he couldn't.

So as he fluttered his eyes closed, the last thing Quentin saw was your silhouette. And for once, he allowed himself to finally relax for the first time in a long time.

Walking down the pebbled path, Feng Min wandered around aimlessly as her mind went back to the previous discussions with the others. She couldn't stop thinking about it ever since Yun-Jin brought it up.

Was it really possible to change you?

She didn't know, but she wanted to give it a try. All the facts point to you being nonhuman, obviously, but a nonhuman that didn't pick either the survivors or killers. You were a loophole, the perfect bug in the game, and she hadn't realized it until now.

Being a competitive gamer, Min wasn't one to give up on a challenge so easily. She strived to strategize, to succeed, and prove others wrong. So what if some of the others didn't believe in their plan? She was determined to change you and escape. Even if she had to do it alone, so be it. She was ready to leave.

Walking by the rows of cabins, Min caught sight of familiar [hair color] hair, causing her to halt. Speak of the devil.

You were carrying around bundles of sheets, walking into each cabin for a few minutes and shortly leaving afterwards. This was one of your routines, she noted, watching as you left Felix's cabin and walked into Quentin's.

For being a creature created by pure evil, you were surprisingly clean and maintained a perfect posture. Always doing tasks scarily quick and often appearing out of thin air. You were the perfect being, and Min often wondered if you were created that way or if that was something you learned. Did you even want to learn? Or were you just created perfect? Did you ever have any stray thoughts?

Maybe she should ask? No, she should wait for the others. They have yet to decide how to go about talking to you. They wanted to first recruit others, see how you interacted with all of the survivors, before setting up a plan.

Still, she was curious to know more about you.

Suddenly, Min heard shouting. Her eyes gazed upon Quentin's cabin with a raised brow. From the sounds of it, Quentin had been yelling at you. She couldn't really hear what about, but as soon as the shouting came, it went. Leaving nothing but silence to fill the air. She didn't really care what happened in there. If anything, you would just go back to what you were doing like how you usually do when dealing with either Meg's temper tantrums or Nea's bullying.

The black haired woman crossed her arms over her chest, and she waited.

Soon you would leave that cabin, moving on to the next, and continue your routine.

Or at least that's what she thought. But as time passed, you never left Quentin's cabin, leaving Min standing there confused and surprised.

Scratch out what she just thought. She did care. What happened in there? Why didn't you leave Quentin's cabin? What're you two doing in there? And how were the two of you associated?

Thinking about it now, Min realized that sometimes when she lingered around the campfire, she would often see Quentin go to the medical cabin, uninjured. Was he going there to see you? If so, then why? She knew Dwight would often see you because he had a crush on you, it was obvious. Well, it was obvious to her at least. But you and Quentin? Who else were you associated with?

Survivors in the realm often worked together, all of them were fighting the same fight, so there was no reason to keep secrets, right? Well, she thought that. But as she stood in the middle of the path, thinking over all the other survivors in the realm, she realized most of them were strangers. She truly didn't know some of them outside the trials.

Min hummed to herself. She didn't know Quentin all that well, but if you and him had some kind of association, maybe mentioning him to the others wouldn't be so bad.

Noting that for later, Min didn't care to stay any longer and continued on her path.

#quentin smith #Quentin smith x reader #yandere dbd x reader #yandere dbd #yandere dead by daylight x reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader

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