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#yandere nowhere king
Snippet from No One Escapes the NoWhere King way later in the story 💀
...
"You were a poet?" You ask curiously. He tilts his skull down staring at you before looking away making a soft hiss noise. Snorting you have a feeling he didn't mean too admit that.
"I..." The Nowhere King paused as the fire in his eyes die down. He wasn't avoiding the question like with other ones he genuinely seemed lost in how to answer. As if he'd forgotten.
"Can I hear one?" You question scooting closer. The NoWhere King stares at you and chuffs looking away instead of answering you. "Please?" You beg.
"Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
I'd kill anyone who'd ever hurt you." He says as he stares into your eyes.
"... Maybe another one." You suggest hoping he could muster something a little less creepy. The sentiment was there but the nature behind his words left you a bit uncomfortable.
"Your eyes are so pretty.
Your smell so sweet.
It's comforting to watch you sleep."
Giving him an odd look the NoWhere King doesn't seem to understand how wrong either of those sentences are. "That was... Special." You compliment making him chuff.
"Fine you try." He responds annoyed as he nudges you. Smiling softly you hum thinking. While you wouldn't say you were a poet you had dabbled in art way before the war and your nurse studies. Turning towards him you tilt your head observing him curious. His green eyes stare back and you smile.
"... Your horns stretch to the sky touching the stars as you fly by. Your blackness fills my eyes and your body binds, I am trapped in the murk and all you touch surley is cursed.
Yet theres a light in the emeralds that make up your stare. To your lonliness no one can compare. You have feelings, who would've thought? And here we are. You slowly creeping into my heart." Blushing as you look away embarassed at the hidden confession the NoWhere King clicks his jaw and stares at you before scooting closer.
"Creeping into your heart?" He murmers surprised.
"..." Pushing his skull away he makes a clicking chuckling sound as he settles comfortably next to you.
"Not the worst place to be." He admits before shifting his skull to lay in your lap. Adjusting so he can comfortably settle your hand goes to his skull gently going over the smooth bone.
Not the worst place to be indeed.
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saintshigaraki · 1 year
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oz mentioned yan nanami and now that’s the only thing on the brain
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merchen-aeravellae · 3 days
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A Yandere Through Time
Yandere Time Traveler x Royal Reader
Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, forced confinement, obsession
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No one knows who created it, but every owner of the mysterious mirror has met a fate so tragic it chills anyone to the bone. The mirror appeared out of nowhere, wandering from hand to hand, from life to life. At first glance, it seems like a blessing, but in reality, it is a curse in disguise. If you cross paths with it, beware: it offers you your deepest desire, but the price is your sanity.
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Yandere Time Traveler who is dedicated to collecting antiques, a passion that has been passed down through generations in his family since the famous Rosa Era. Each member of his lineage has their own personal museum. His collection not only includes legally acquired pieces but also artifacts that the world does not know exist and are in his possession.
Yandere Time Traveler who is mainly dedicated to purchasing items from the Roja Era, not because it is his favorite time period, but because his favorite person lived during that time. The fifth child of a king who ruled what is now his city, the castle where they lived still stands proudly on the outskirts of the city, now converted into a museum that he visits weekly as a way to be close to his beloved
Yandere Time Traveler who has been intrigued by your story since childhood: a member of the royal family beloved by his family, the common people, and even his enemies. One day, you disappeared from your own home, and no one ever heard from you again. Everyone searched exhaustively for decades but never found you. A group of people tried to exploit the situation by impersonating you to gain all the luxuries and privileges that rightfully belonged to you. Only one person resembled you both in appearance and manner of speaking. The only problem was that nearly 70 years had passed since your disappearance, and this person was too young to be you. In the end, their husband had to clarify that they were suffering from mental issues, and as a result, no one took them seriously.
Yandere Time Traveler who feels like a lunatic: how could he be in love with someone who lived nearly two hundred years ago? However, he has always felt a connection to you, and the only way he finds to be near you is by acquiring all your belongings through illegal auctions. Selling and buying items related to you is prohibited in his country; museums tirelessly search for all your belongings across the continent to display them alongside those of your family. But he is faster and acquires everything before the museums can get their hands on it.
Yandere Time Traveler who, of all your belongings, has searched the black markets most fervently for your hat. In the Roja Era, royalty did not use crowns to show their lineage; instead, they used special and unique hats to demonstrate their noble position. The hats of your sisters and brothers are in the castle museum, but yours was never found. The theory is that you wore it the day you disappeared, and wherever you are, the hat is with you.
Yandere Time Traveler who acquired a mirror from an antique shop during a sale. He didn't know what era it was from, but its beauty convinced him to place it in the room dedicated to you. The mirror carried a dark legend: all its owners ended up losing their sanity or disappearing without a trace. However, he was not intimidated, believing it was just people's tales. He was sure you would have been fascinated by it, imagining you using it to admire your reflection while trying on clothes.
Yandere Time Traveler who, one night, woke up startled by strange noises coming from a nearby room. With silent steps, he approached to discover the source of the sound, but his concern grew when he realized the noises were coming from the room dedicated to his beloved. He immediately thought someone had broken in to steal something from his valuable collection. Wasting no time, he grabbed a bat he had purchased a couple of weeks ago, perfect for defending himself against an intruder. Upon entering the room, he found no one, but the mirror looked different. Strange figures were forming on its surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch it. It was as if the mirror was calling to him. However, the moment his fingers brushed against the glass, he lost consciousness.
Yandere Time Traveler who woke up with a terrible headache. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on a wooden bed that creaked with the slightest movement. The room was unfamiliar, filled with objects that didn’t match his home. The walls were made of wood. Various items adorned the space, from wooden toys to old tools, along with portraits and simple household decorations. As his vision adjusted, he noticed a small window allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the room. The smell of wax, burnt wood, and a faint scent of food filled his nose.
Yandere Time Traveler who panicked. He tried to get out of the bed to figure out where he was, but only succeeded in worsening his headache from the sudden movement. He heard footsteps coming toward him. Fear took over as he desperately looked for something to defend himself with. But before he could act, the door opened, and an old woman entered the room, calmly looking at him.
Yandere Time Traveler who discovered that he was in the house of an elderly couple. They had found him unconscious at their doorstep and, out of compassion, had taken care of him ever since. Maybe he had gone mad because nothing made sense. The date on the calendar in their house showed that it was 200 years before his own time. It wasn’t possible that he had traveled to the past. Maybe he had hit his head, and all of this was just a delusion, a hallucination caused by the injury. Perhaps he was in a hospital, in a coma, dreaming a nonsensical fantasy.
Yandere Time Traveler, unable to find a way back to his own time, was now trying to adjust to his new life. The elderly couple who had taken him in gave him work in their small antique shop and allowed him to live in their home. In return, he had to handle the heavier tasks, like feeding the animals, repairing anything that broke, and keeping the shop in order.
Yandere Time Traveler was organizing some items in the shop when he heard the bustle of a crowd outside. The voices and shouting filled the street, but he didn’t even bother looking out the window. He didn’t care what celebration or festival was taking place outside. Everything went quiet for a while until the shop bell rang. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, but it was his job. With a fake smile, he greeted the customers who had entered.
Yandere Time Traveler was startled to see a familiar face. It wasn’t someone he had met in person, but someone he had seen in portraits—it was the crown princess of Adrionia. Adrionia was the name of his city when the monarchy still existed. Although he knew he was in the Roja Era, he never imagined he would meet a member of the royal family in a place like this. The heir was about to speak when a pair of voices interrupted from the hallway in front of them.
Yandere Time Traveler who was shocked to see the rest of the royal siblings there. His heart swelled with longing; if they were here, it meant that you must also be here. He couldn't help but search for you among the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. His hope deflated into sadness, until someone emerged from one of the back hallways, holding a trinket in their hands.
Yandere Time Traveler who wanted to die right then and there—you were standing before him, the love of his life. As you asked your sister to buy the trinket for you, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were even more beautiful in person; the paintings didn’t do you justice. He wanted to leap over the counter to be closer to you, but he knew if he did that, he'd be thrown into the dungeon. All he could do was watch you from where he stood, his heart pounding at a thousand miles an hour.
Yandere Time Traveler who felt you so close, yet so unattainable. As he rang up your sister’s purchase, he never took his eyes off you for a second. He watched you with a mix of fascination and desperation, knowing that this might be the only time he’d ever be so near you. And just as you had appeared, you left. His world crumbled with each step you took toward the exit, moving further away from him.
Yandere Time Traveler who couldn’t stop thinking about you after that encounter. His heart filled with yearning to see you again. Now that he had seen you in the flesh, he couldn't allow everything to end with just one brief meeting. He needed to see you once more, needed you in his life in a more permanent, closer way. But he knew he couldn’t just approach you without a plan—and for that, he needed to scheme carefully.
Yandere Time Traveler who decided to use his knowledge of the past to his advantage. He began calling himself a prophet and would go out to the town square to “predict” events he already knew would happen soon. At first, people looked at him with skepticism, and many called him crazy. But when his predictions started coming true with eerie accuracy, everything changed. Word spread throughout the kingdom about his visions, and people gathered in the square to hear him speak. It wasn’t long before the royals heard of him and summoned him to the castle. Everything was going according to plan.
Yandere Time Traveler who was tested by the court, but he was ready for whatever challenge came his way. He “predicted” the betrayal of a court member, and a week later, a respected and seemingly unblemished noble was discovered stealing large sums from the royal treasury. The impressed kings offered him a permanent position at the castle. His goal was now within reach. Every day, he grew closer to you. He knew you better than you knew yourself and was confident that soon you would fall in love with him.
Yandere Time Traveler who, over time, befriended the royal family, but you were different. You seemed deeply distrustful of him. Every time he tried to approach you, you fled. If he entered a room through the door, you left through the window. The more frequent these encounters became, the more frustrated he felt. He left you gifts, but you discarded them. The letters he sent, you burned in the fireplace. And every time he tried to speak to you, you ignored him. Couldn’t you see that destiny was bringing you together? Why did you run from him as if he carried some contagious disease?
Yandere Time Traveler who knew he had to be patient, but every moment away from you felt like a blow to the heart. Then, during a casual meeting with your brothers, everything he had worked for unraveled. Without meaning to, your brother let it slip that you were seeing someone in secret—a mere guard, someone far beneath him. He had to keep his composure; he couldn’t afford to break his facade in front of them. But all he wanted to do was rush out and bury that filthy man deep in the earth.
Yandere Time Traveler who now understood everything. You had always rejected his efforts because you already had someone in your life. The idea of you being with someone else was unbearable. Every touch, every word shared between you and that guard ignited a wildfire of jealousy within him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. He needed to devise a new plan, so he decided to accuse your lover of trying to seduce you to rise in high society. The kings were furious with both you and your lover. The execution seemed imminent. However, something unexpected happened. On your knees, you begged your parents, saying it was all a misunderstanding. At other times, he would have loved to hear your voice, but at that moment, he wished you'd be quiet. You were ruining his plan and breaking his heart as he watched you plead for another man.
Yandere Time Traveler had to leave the castle for a few days; the whole situation was overwhelming him, and he feared he might do something that would compromise his facade. He returned to the shop where he had worked at the beginning. The old man greeted him cheerfully, happy to see him after such a long time. While the older man talked about everything that had happened in his absence, he wandered around the shop, looking at the new antiques that had arrived, hoping to distract his mind. Suddenly, something caught his attention: a mirror that seemed too familiar, sitting in a corner. He now knew how it had ended up in the couple's home. As he stared at it, an idea formed in his mind: "If I couldn't have you in your world, maybe I could in mine." With that thought in mind, he decided to buy the mirror, flashing a disturbing smile.
Yandere Time Traveler returned to the castle with his new treasure, eager to figure out how it worked as soon as possible, though it was easier said than done. It was during a fit of rage that he grabbed the bat he had brought with him to smash objects and vent his frustration. You had convinced your parents that your lover was a good man, and they had allowed you to marry him. He should have been that man, the one who would marry you, but his place had been taken. After breaking several objects in his fury, he left the bat leaning against the mirror and stormed out of the room, not noticing that the reflection in the mirror had begun to change.
Yandere Time Traveler who could only watch as you prepared for your wedding felt as if you were mocking him. Unable to bear it any longer, he retreated to his room to devise a plan. He would not let anyone else have you. Upon entering, he found something magnificent: the portal in the mirror was in all its glory. He gazed at the bat and suddenly, the idea of how it worked came to him. He had been so foolish; the answer was so simple, and he hadn’t seen it before. Now, you would be where you belonged, by his side, living in his own time, where you could never escape.
Yandere Time Traveler who sent you a letter pretending to be your brother to get you to the library. If you had known it was him, you never would have gone to meet him. The mirror was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t see it at a glance, and he would ambush you from behind. Hearing your footsteps approaching down the hallway, you entered and called out for your brother. He stood momentarily stunned, witnessing something he never thought he’d see: you were wearing your hat, the object he had longed to see all his life. But that feeling quickly faded when, angrily, you yelled at your "brother" to come out of hiding because you had a date with your fiancé and needed to leave immediately. The mention of the other man and the fact that you wore something as significant as your hat just to see his rival gave him the strength to push you into the portal, following closely behind.
Yandere Time Traveler who woke up on a floor that seemed familiar, was back in his own home. He watched as you lay unconscious beside him, and since he had already gone through the experience of the portal, he managed to get up before you. He reinforced all exits to ensure you couldn’t escape and then let you rest in what would now be his shared bedroom. Hours later, he heard a blood-curdling scream. He rushed to his room, but you were not there. He found you in the room he had dedicated exclusively to you. You tried to escape, but seeing such a room had frightened you so much that you couldn’t help but scream.
Yandere Time Traveler who pretended everything was fine for a while. You stayed at home while he went to work. It didn’t matter that you did nothing all day; he believed your hands weren’t meant for work. He preferred to do everything himself to keep you content. One night, upon returning from work, he noticed something strange: the house felt too silent. Although he was convinced there was no way you could have escaped, his home felt empty. He searched every corner, but there was no sign of your presence. As he pondered where you could be, his gaze fell on the mirror.
Yandere Time Traveler who had underestimated you. You had managed to find a way to use the mirror while he was away, but he already had an idea of where you might be. Using the mirror, he traveled 70 years after the date of your disappearance. True to his assumption, he quickly found you; everyone knew you for trying to claim that you were the missing royal member, even though that was now impossible. He approached you slowly from behind while you were talking to a couple of people, trying to convince them of your identity. He placed an arm around your shoulders, noticing how your skin prickled. He was too angry to care about the effect he was having on you. With a fake worried look, he explained to the people that you were his fiancée, but that you were suffering from dementia. The people left, leaving the two of you alone.
Yandere Time Traveler who took you back to his time, determined not to make the same mistake. With the bat he had used earlier, he gathered all his strength and smashed the mirror into pieces while you screamed for him to stop. His rage was relentless; he hit the mirror so many times that it became irreparable. When he finished, he embraced you while you cried out loud, knowing that your only escape had been destroyed. He tried to comfort you, whispering soothing words, but his attempts at calm only had the opposite effect. Every whisper and every caress only heightened your desperation, reminding you that you were now trapped with a lunatic, with no hope of returning.
Yandere Time Traveler "No matter what era you're in, I will always find a way to find you."
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yanderecrazysie · 23 days
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Twisted Zoo Ending One: Queen of the Jungle
This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .
I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.
WARNINGS: yandere themes
Note: For Tumblr, the mature version of the endings (the afterendings) will begin sometime after I finish all the normal endings.
Note 2: Sorry this is short, I wasn't sure how to write this one lol.
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In each hand you carried a bucket, filled to the brim with steaks. It was kind of nostalgic of your first time in the exhibit. It was hard to believe it wasn’t that long ago.
You hummed to yourself as you approached the lions’ area. You furrowed your brow- the rocks had been rearranged in nearly a complete circle, with just enough room for you to walk inside and approach the king of the jungle’s sunning rock.
“Hey, Leona!” you called out to the lion halfling lazily regarding you from his perch, “Dinner time!”
The pride’s leader leapt down from his resting spot and casually approached you, his movements lazy yet filled with grace. His eyes, intelligent and painfully sharp, never left you as you entered the circle of rocks.
The other lions were nowhere to be found. Confused, you searched for them in the shade of the rocks, but there was no one there.
As you reached the middle of the circle, something occurred to you. The usually-cackling hyenas were unusually quiet. The hairs on your arms stood on end. Something’s wrong.
You turned to face the circle’s exit and, within an instant, strong arms had wrapped around your stomach, pulling you back against a solid chest. You gasped and dropped both buckets as you struggled to break free. The grip did not budge no matter how hard you fought.
“Shhh, easy there, herbivore,” a voice murmured in your ear, low and gravely and filled with amusement.
Your heart jumped out of your chest. It was Leona who had spoken, but it wasn’t the Leona you knew. It was the Leona whose gaze had started to linger too long for your liking. The Leona who had always seemed too much like a predator than a human.
But he wasn’t alone. 
Now facing the circle’s gap, you saw Ruggie, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he blocked your only exit.
“Gotcha!” Ruggie snickered, “Took you long enough.”
“What… what are you doing?!” you cried, trying to twist out of Leona’s grasp, making no progress whatsoever on escaping.
Leona’s breath was hot against your neck, “You spend too much time with those other exhibits,” he spat out the word like it was a slur, “You must pay more attention to us.”
Ruggie snickered again and leaned casually against the towering rocks, his eyes tracking every movement you made, “You ignore us. Not fair, y’know? You must remember your real favorites.”
Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to stay calm, “This isn’t funny- let me go.”
Leona chuckled, the sound vibrating through your back, “We’re not joking, herbivore. You play with fire, you get burnt. We don’t like to share.”
“Share?” you echoed, voice shaky with fear and confusion, “What do you-”
“You’re ours,” Leona interrupted sternly, “You have always been ours.”
Ruggie pushed off the rock and sauntered over, his sharp-canined grin widening as he got closer, “You should have seen this coming. We dropped hints. You’re just too silly to notice.”
Leona’s nose brushed against your hair, inhaling deeply, “We’re tired of waiting around. You stay here now.”
You began to thrash desperately in his hold, but he held you effortlessly, like a mouse in a cat’s jaws.
“You’ll love it here!” Ruggie cooed, “No more zoo. No more stress. Just you, us, and the savannah. We will keep you cool. It’s perfect.”
The reality of the situation hit you all at once. They weren’t going to let you leave. They were deadly serious. The playful smile Ruggie wore was just a mask for the possession lurking beneath.
It was too much for you, and as hopelessness began to sink in, you began to cry, “Please just let me go, we can forget this ever happ-”
“You will not leave,” Leona growled, “You are our mate. And if anyone tries to take you away…”
You gulped at the insinuation. 
Ruggie moved closer and brushed a stray tear from your cheek, “Don’t cry. We take good care of you, promise. You won’t worry ever again.”
The vast savannah, once one of your favorite parts of the zoo, now felt like a huge, hot cage.
You were no longer a researcher to them. That much was clear.
And there was no escape from the lion’s den.
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Overblot Universe (4) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
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Part 1 • 2 • 3• 5
There he was 
The first overblot you witnessed 
The Overblotted Riddle was as regal as ever 
Standing above your gilded bed fit for royalty decorated by arches of spinning ink 
You could see guards that looked similar to the entrapped dormmakers during the event
Standing in front of heart shaped doors that resembled an inky reflection of the Heartslabyul’s dorm
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, (Y/n). I haven’t forgotten how you ran from my forces meant to bring you home.”
“I…was just scared. Your army was fighting with Jamil’s and I just didn’t want to get in the way.”
Riddle scoffed,”You think I’d allow any of my vassals hurt you?! I thought you heard me last time we saw each other.”
His gloved hands clutched your cheeks and chin forcing you to hold his gaze
“In my world, I am the law. I am order manifest! 
The words brought back the memories again
But you couldn’t drift off especially now that Overblotted Riddle was smiling 
You could practically smell the idea of something awful coming from him
He let his ink gloved hands trail from your jaw to rest around your neck
“I have been eagerly awaiting the day I’d meet you again. For so long I’ve been replaying the sight of the collarless king working alongside those rogue cards.”
He pulled away leaving a ring of ink that tickled your skin, shaping to hug your neck letting a black splattered rose hang from it’s center
“All this time I’ve thought about having you and now I’m this close to having everything be perfect.”
You watched his eyes drift down your body, letting yourself follow his gaze 
Finding your outfit to be matching his own, you hoped it was just the ink doing its things
He beckoned you to follow him 
And the moment you deliberated you could feel the bodice of your outfit slightly squeeze 
So that was it’s purpose+
You hurriedly caught up to him minding the overwhelming line of soldiers collared and at the ready 
“Riddle what do you plan to do?”
Riddle’s distorted chuckle exploded into a diabolical laugh
Calming himself he turned over his shoulder as you both left the dorm/castle for the garden
“I’m recreating where we met of course. An unbirthday celebration that changed everything. A coronation that would have been perfect if you and those cards didn’t ruin it.”
Arriving to the entrance of the garden it was exactly as he said
The table and treats for an unbirthday party all different shades of black with that sheen that said was ink
All surrounding a grand stage where to thrones sat at the edge of it
He took your hand, more gentle than you were expecting and led you on a red carpet that led to the thrones
Out of nowhere this Riddle brought out a box setting it on a pedestal
He opened it to reveal a crown…fit for a king
“Bow, (Y/n) and receive your right as my king.”
Idia’s crown flashed in your mind making you cower instinctively
His glare was paralyzing
“Bow. (Y/n).”
The pressure around your body was intense, as if sapping your energy to make you fall to your knees
Riddle sighs,”That’s good enough.”
He places the crown on your head 
It doesn’t hurt like Idia’s but it feels hard to remove 
And as Riddle helps you stand you can feel the something wet drip from the  crown and into your eyes
But it doesn’t burn…more like clouding your vision as you were led to rest in the throne
“Now! Bring the relic! It’s power will be what finalizes your king's coronation!”
Carried by many of the soldiers was the mirror–The mirror that you originally traveled to 
“That–”
“Recognize it? This is the accursed object that let me bring you here. But it’s done it’s job and no one has any intentions of you using it again.”
“Wait but I have—to–go back!”
The overblotted Riddle gave you that sly smirk all to similar to the dormleader you knew
“You’ll find that world will fade from memory when the portal does as well.”
With a trumpet sound and coordinated shouts an ink covered axe was brought to Riddle
Despite being so close you couldn’t lift yourself from the throne, courtesy of the ensemble you were wearing
You could feel your tears blend with the ink trailing down your face as the Overblotted Queen raised his axe to smash the mirror
You tried to reach in vain as he brought the axe down
You felt as though it was helpless 
Until you heard a whisper
“(Y/n) don’t despair we wouldn’t leave you by yourself.”
A new bout of energy let you sit up
“Oh my gosh! It’s you! You’re here!”
“Hush, we’ve got to be quick the main event is on its way.”
“I summon thee cauldron!” 
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kiame-sama · 8 months
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Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt 4
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Warnings; Several spoilers for EP 8, violence warning, mention of blood warning, injury, stick with it I promise, kind of cliffhanger, Nifty is a wild little thing,
~~~~~~~~
"Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh Ladies?"
"I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!"
"Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit, one could get accustomed. What do you think, my precious Doe?"
You stood with Alastor and Nifty, watching the sinners you lived with for months drink and enjoy their evening. Part of you was honestly sad you may not see them ever again after that night. Who knew what heaven had in store for everyone or if anyone would even make it through the onslaught.
"I... hope everyone makes it through this. I don't know how much help I can be to them, but I truly want to help them however I can."
It was then Alastor laughed, almost seeming hysterical in his laughter and that put you on edge. Something about his laugh made you feel like you had said something that set him off and that was a concerning feeling for you.
"My adorably naïve Doe, what in Hell makes you think you're going to be anywhere on that battlefield? No, no. You'll be safe where you belong in your microphone home and far from Heaven's table scraps. Enjoy this night, Dear. This may be the last time you see our wayward pals again."
You were both unsurprised and horrified at Alastor's words. Part of you honestly thought you would be fighting the angels with the others and to hear Alastor so casually state his plans to lock you away upset you. There was no fighting or arguing with Alastor, but you also felt compelled to at least try and convince the cannibal demon to allow you to stand with the souls you befriended.
Before you had the chance to speak, there was a sudden weight added to your head and you saw Nifty putting an oddly woven crown with several dead roaches on Alastor as well.
"I dub thee King and Queen Roach."
"Oh, to understand your twisted little mind."
Both Alastor and Nifty laughed, but you struggled to find the same humor in the moment when the reality of all you could lose loomed over you.
~~~~~~~~
Everything was dark spare for the glowing neon lights outside of the broken radio tower. So vastly different from what it had been seemingly moments before. The arms that wrapped around you and held you snugly only served to ground you from the absolute terror you had been in.
"Please..."
Your voice was a whisper that only seemed to echo among the rubble around you. His arms tightened in response for just a moment, his body tense. The broken microphone you had been contained in was clenched in one of his fists and almost felt cold against your body.
"Quiet, sweet Doe... Do not speak now..."
A part of you was terrified to remind Alastor that your deal had been broken and you didn't need to follow his orders anymore, but an even stronger part of you hesitated to think back on how it all fell apart.
It came from seemingly nowhere. You were safe within the microphone when the blast of heavenly light pierced into you. What neither you nor Alastor realized was that when a deal created item like the microphone breaks, the deal and the soul bound to it break as well. That was really all you remembered before your own mind blocked the rest out to protect you.
You winced at the memory despite your now healed stomach. When you awoke after being swallowed by Alastor's darkness, your body was healed almost completely. The only thing left of the splitting injury was a freshly healed scar around your midsection and an oddly empty feeling within.
Alastor couldn't stop himself from replaying the memory over and over in his mind and he hated what it meant for him and the soul he had found himself so fond of. Mostly he hated how he had reacted to it and the truth he now knew in himself. He couldn't deny now that he needed you and losing you was enough to show him that.
The sound of your choked and gasping cries made agony rip through Alastor's damned and tainted soul far more than he realized it would. Both pieces of the microphone in his hands and your soft body laying beneath Adam's axe as the angel grinned maliciously down at you. Your deal with Alastor to keep you safe and alive had been broken.
"Well, ain't that cute. Looks like I got your little fucking sinner bitch instead of you, she- this is one of heaven's souls. Where the fuck did shit like you get a soul from heaven? Damn it! They'll lose their shit if I kill one of our souls!"
He couldn't deny it, but he would never admit to it. Alastor would never admit to being afraid and desperate to not lose you because his own ego couldn't take it. Though he could no longer delude himself, he could still delude everyone else. Everyone except for you.
"Make another deal with me, my innocent lost Doe of heaven. Keep my eternal secrets for me. Broadcast for me with your pure radio waves and soul. I will keep hell from tainting you, and you keep your heaven touched soul reserved for me. Strengthen my radio station and be my trusted pet once more..."
Alastor hummed against your shoulder in a soft tone, knowing that he needed to get you back on his leash. He wasn't the only one in hell aware of your pure soul anymore. A heaven touched and claimed soul so untainted and pure was a very rare thing. Whatever angelic pride resulted in you being wrongfully cast out allowed Alastor a fantastic trophy of a soul. Despite still being considered the quarry of heaven, you wound up in Hell and you would remain there if he had anything to say about it.
A sinner's soul was one thing. One of heaven's souls was another entirely.
"Refuse... Well, we both know the broadcast can keep your sweet voice and soul protected for another half a decade. At least I don't make you scream for it."
~~~~~~~~
Vox watched the video over and over again of the soft woman Alastor supposedly kept within his microphone. What that stupid first human said peaked his interest in this Hell-bound heavenly soul. If he could get his hands on that soul there were certain to be some grand abilities paired with it, not to mention the value of such a soul in Hell's market.
All Vox had to do was convince Valentino and Velvet to put value in the same soul and it would be akin to a one-way ticket to the strongest overlords Hell has known. Well, that and wresting the pure soul from Alastor's control. It shouldn't be too hard given the fact that their deal was broken, but Alastor was likely to try and make another deal just to keep that sweet soul to himself.
On top of just the heavenly soul, the soul of the little maid Nifty was certainly a hot commodity given just what she did at the end of the extermination battle. With both souls in hand, Vox might not even need the other Vees in time. He could rise above the two Vees he had teamed up with and become more powerful than even Zestial.
No doubt the other Vees won't be too difficult to convince when it comes to the idea of collecting the two high value souls. Once Vox has his hands on those souls and can use them to taunt that old-timey prick, he will finally have everything he wants within his reach.
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yandereunsolved · 2 months
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🐉Yandere Aegon I — The Conqueror🐉
Harsh to those who defied him and generous to those who bent the knee—that was Aegon Targaryen.
That was the one man you refused to engage with.
A simple passing remark turned into a spiraling obsession that turned the enigmatic ruler into a madman. No one saw his madness except those who dared step in the way of your relationship. Even you yourself were not spared. For neither your low status nor your lack of education swayed him. He craved you like Balerion craved bloodshed.
He is the conqueror, and yet conquering you has been the most difficult challenge through his many moons of rule. And what does a conqueror do when someone refuses to come peacefully? They return the disobedience in unimaginably tortuous ways.
The desperate, hoarse pleas and terrified shrieks from your village people made your heart break. It pulled itself back together for a few moments, only to beat so quickly that you thought it would burst from you. The cause? A black, dreadful beast of a mass your mind can't even fathom is descending upon your village. The same beast that belongs to the man you escaped from.
Yes, returning to your village was idiotic in hindsight, but you had nowhere else to flee.
Surely anywhere you would have gone would have had either the townspeople or greedy, corrupted creatures giving you up to him like a sacrifice to one of the seven.
A part of your mind betrays you and speaks such despicable words. You should have stayed. You should have married him. You should have, you should have, you should have.
The villagers, your villagers, your family, and your friends are all now perishing at his hands.
"Darling, it's good to see you've finally come to your senses. No more of this running away non-sense. I wouldn't want to bruise this handsome little body of yours. After all, that's only for me to do as a show of my devotion to you."
When did you get on his dragon? When did his arms wrap around your waist so tightly that it felt as if his dragon's tail was crushing you? What will happen to your village? What will happen to you?
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
His hot breath was gracing—poisoning the side of your neck all throughout the journey. You were pressed against him in a position that felt oddly intimate. You could sense the anger emanating from his words. The obsession was practically pulsating out of his veins. Yet, relief is all he showed you.
"Don't want to talk?" You could hear the satisfied smirk on his sculpted face without having to peer at it. "Don't worry. You'll be screaming more than enough tonight. Naughty people like you must be punished. It is the decree of the king, after all. And you wouldn't want to go against my word again, would you?"
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ozzgin · 26 days
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Feeling a little feral right now so I must ask. Which Yan's would let you bite them out of nowhere.
Won't even notice you've anchored yourself into their flesh:
Daitou, Suma, Orc Siblings, Demon King, Yan!Bodyguard, Tig
Happily goes along with it, no questions asked:
Yakuza Boss, Kiritsubo, Sekiya, Monster Husband, Asylum Spider
Reluctantly accepts it, giving you a strange look:
Murasaki, Sakaki, Daos, Yan!Android
"Well, now, do I get to bite you back?":
Kazuya, Yuugiri, Zzy, Yan!Shapeshifter, Yan!Vampire
Is literally the one begging you to do it:
Nerd!Loser!Yandere
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leth-writes · 29 days
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yandere hotd x reader scared of their dragon
AEMOND
Understandable.
Vhagar is the biggest dragon you’ve ever seen and it’s not even close. Massive, massive dragon, basically bigger than your entire castle. You’re the size of Vhagar’s foot, that’s the size difference.
Aemond usually isn’t upset by people being scared of Vhagar, it’s part of how he’s gotten such a fierce reputation, and part of how he prevents anyone from gossiping about his eye.
He hasn’t faced any sort of bullying since he lost his eye and gained his dragon.
Vhagar and him have bonded quite well, but Vhagar is still quite aggressive, with an incredibly strong personality. She doesn’t always do what he asks, so you have every reason to be terrified.
However, it’s important to note that (at least in my headcanons), there’s emotional bleedover from rider to dragon, and Vhagar can just feel the absolutely overwhelming emotions radiating from Aemond whenever you look at her.
The emotions are so strong, too strong for Aemond to fully contain, so Vhagar’s had to keep some of that protectiveness in herself, just to prevent Aemond from constantly snapping.
As a result, Vhagar’s incredibly gentle with you. She can’t see you all that well, you mainly just look like a fuzzy blur, but she’s known for curling up under your window in the castle, or even staring inside, her one eye larger than the window.
She just kinda… watches you. Makes sure no one is acting out around you, making sure you aren’t trying to escape. One snort, fire bellowing from her nostrils, and everyone backs away, or you climb back down that stone wall.
You don’t stand a chance. If Aemond wasn’t enough, now you have this big fucking dragon watching you at all times. No one wants to talk to you, they’re scared Aemond will feed them to her, Vhagar’s hoping that’ll happen. Who knows, maybe she’ll be eating a couple of your romantic interests before you learn the lesson.
AEGON
Listen. Sunfyre is big, really big, but nowhere near the size of fucking Vhagar. Sunfyre’s a lot less intimidating, being about the size of a particularly large van.
As a result, you’re still terrified, but it’s a lot less justified. Sunfyre can’t eat you in one bite like Vhagar could, but they could definitely maim you pretty badly.
You won’t even step foot near Sunfyre, which Aegon honestly doesn’t mind that much. Sure, he’s close with Sunfyre, but he isn’t going to force you. Besides, positioning sunfyre right outside the door to the part of the castle you frequent has you running straight for him, terrified the dragon is hunting you. He essentially is, he’s using Sunfyre to flush you out of your hiding spots toward where he wants you to be, namely his room.
He does use Sunfyre to intimidate other romantic interests, but honestly his position as king does a lot of that for him, so it isn’t too big of a deal.
yes, Sunfyre will be sad if you don’t ride them. Yes, Sunfyre will be sad if you don’t pet them.
Still, Aegon doesn’t work too hard to get you used to Sunfyre, he needs them to be able to intimidate you. So, you maintain a bit of healthy fear, treating Sunfyre like a particularly dangerous pet.
Daemon
Okay, Caraxes is pretty big. Halfway in size between Vhagar and Sunfyre. You’re about the size of their head.
Daemon wants you to be close with Caraxes. He wants to be able to ride with you, and see the way you stare in awe at the clouds, and laugh as you clutch him close to you out of exilerated fear. He’s just not very good about introducing you to them slowly. He basically forced you onto Caraxes for a long ride, waiting until you’re able to move your face from his shoulder to look at the jaw-dropping view.
He also wants you to be able to pet Caraxes, who really loves your affection, representing the more tender feelings Daemon usually stamps down to protect his reputation.
Caraxes also gets that ruthless possessiveness from him. They’re going to burn people who come too close right in front of you, no waiting for Daemon to show up. He pretends to scold them but secretly praises them, and they can feel the happiness boiling in his chest.
His goal is for you to eventually give the order to burn up your enemies; he wants to see that fire in your eyes, that confident gleam that can only come from having such a dangerous creature under your control. He has dreams about it.
If he ever walks in to you taking care of Caraxes, he’ll be ecstatic. He’ll tease you about domesticating his dragon, but don’t take it too seriously; he just doesn’t know how to show affection.
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hongjoongscafe · 3 months
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Bloody Love.
Chapter: VIII-Wings-
♠︎Pairing: yandere!king!jungkookxoc(coronis)
♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).
♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."
♠︎Word count: 4.4k+
♠︎Warning: blow job, indirect mentions of rape (not from jk's end!), ghosts.
♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!
♠︎Masterpost
♠︎Serieslist.
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Lost. That was all Coronis knew. She lost her life. There were chains around her ankles, wrists, and neck. The hold was in the hands of one of the Royal men who rode the horse with the other four walking like pillars.
Her hair was sticking to her face, her sweat was running down her face and dropping on the ground. Even in this ungodly winter, she was burning.
The soles of her feet were bleeding down the path. And the muddy stones were clinging to her wounded feet, deepening them, reminding her of the gore of her life that it turned into.
Life has never been forgiving to anyone and it only took and took and took. It was a game of time, where only those who survived cheated their ways. And those who died, who died every day.
The grey of the sky and howling of the wind didn't scare the woman that Coronis had become. Instead, they showered the comfort of the fact that she was not the only one having the deeper turmoil of fucked up emotions. All of them grey and thunderously howling.
Harder, it always got harder. And now it was the hardest to even take a step ahead. Knowing that death was waiting behind those tall walls of the hell called the castle. Waiting for her in the craving of lust… the lust of blood.
Hours had passed since they started dragging her like a dead cow on the muddy lanes of the village. The people took the greatest pleasure in seeing a woman being humiliated.
It seemed like it was in the human nature of men to humiliate, degrade, and bury a woman who stood a chance in class. A woman who was more intellectual than them. They hated it. And took them down until no respect was left for their poor feminine name.
An object. That's what a woman was and is and will remain for a chunk of men. A woman whose religion is her man and her holy scriptures is her man’s order. They live under their horrid boots and get stepped on by many others under that boot.
As they took Coronis away the men looked. Some smirked and threw names at her and some made up fucked up stories that were nowhere near her fucked up truth.
Only if they knew.
The anger erupted inside her head and her face twitched as the events of the day echoed in her burning head.
~
“No, my love. You must know what it costs for your actions. For your betrayal.”
The King smirked under his mask and took Coronis's hair in his fist, pushing her out of the alley. “No one disregards what I say,” he whispered in her ear, the roughness of his voice stood out. “If they do indeed do that, they are met with the hell of their eternities. Now be a good fucking bitch and walk to your little shack.”
His hold on her hair tightened, making her yelp in pain before he released and pushed her.
Her breath was shallow, and coming in pants. There was no way out of such commotion. And she had to run through it. At least, to protect those who were close to her.
Coronis took heavy steps, trying not to break down in front of the man who got on his horse to see the drama unfold for his pleasure. This was the beginning of the sick pleasure. She knew it.
People gathered around as Coronis arrived at her shack, looking paler than before. There was a tremble in her shoulders and unshed tears in her eyes. They, too, took pleasure in seeing the drama.
She was the puppet and he was the puppet master. Coronis scoffed, thinking that everyone in her vision was his puppet. He played them all and dropped them when their wires broke or joints didn't move as swiftly as he wanted.
And what happened after?
They burn.
They all fucking burn.
They all burn in despair. They burn in hell. They burn in vengeance.
And then they fall on the ashes of the poor and become one with them.
This is how His Majesty's world worked. And anyone who disturbed the cycle shall meet the same fate.
The King, with his head ever high in the sky, got off the horse, “Tell me, pretty thing. Where did you keep it?” he asked as he played with a lock of her hair.
Circe was inside. There was no way in hell she wanted her to see him. So she stood on her grounds. The silence ticked the king’s patience. His jaw clenched as he wrapped his fist around her hair and pulled her ear close to his mouth. “You either be an obedient little birdy and show me where you kept it or be a bitch and I look for it myself… and remember, little birdy, if I do… I’ll finish whoever steps in front of me. Get it?” He said as his lips brushed her ear.
Coronis felt her anger consuming her. Finally, she stepped inside her shack with the dark shadow following her through. She quickly went inside her slot and opened the trunk where she had kept the damn thing away.
Her shaky hands fumbled around in the trunk and took hold of the dainty chain. The bone locket rocked side to side like a pendulum in slow motion. However, a big hand wrapped around it and snatched it from Coronis’s hand.
The king looked at the bone with strange emotions in his eyes. It was almost like he thawed and showed a human beneath the monster. But it was gone in a blink.
Maybe she hallucinated. He wasn't capable of that. He had no emotions in his blood.
His eyes snapped at her. They were cold and ruthless. No emotion. No sign of life. Just as good as the eyes of the dead.
“You called it upon yourself, little birdy,” his voice was low as his eye twitched. “Say goodbye to your little family… but when the sky will loom with wrath, they will take you to me,” he whispered as his eyes grew psychotic with each word. “Don’t fight if you want your family to live.”
~
Coronis was thankful for one thing. They, who were taking her to her death, didn't put a hand on her. She had grown up seeing these men putting their bloodied hands on women they took to their deaths and humiliating them in front of everyone. No shame for anyone just dripping in lust and taking the sole respect of a woman away before she could die. They stained their souls. Souls… if they could, they would catch those mourning souls and humiliate them, too.
A sick reality that wasn't just bound to this hell of His Majesty but everywhere on this round living hell of a world.
No one was safe. Children, women, men, older… they were all puppets. A pawn in His game.
Through the dense fog, she could make out the house of horrors. The tall, black, and gory castle stood high up. Its pointy peaks pierced through the sky.
Coronis had heard about this. It was a place better not seen. This was the place where the hell formed, where The Monster lived…
The narrow-staired bridge came down the way. The captors aligned themselves. Now they were in a straight line. Two ahead of her and two behind her. The pathway was narrow, one mistake and she could fall below.
Who knew what lived down there?
As she followed them to the inferno, her burning skin got a cold whip of air. The cold. That's what she thought it was. Until… the whispers echoed—
Come on pretty girl, come down here. It said.
Look! Look here, it's so pretty here and- and so peaceful! The other one whispered.
Don't cross the door. You're gonna die! Someone whispered, crying. It was the voice of an old lady. A shivering old lady.
He is going to ravage you… kill you. You won't even acknowledge your own face! They laughed.
You are going to end up here anyway, pretty thing. Come! Just come down here already! You will save him time. A sweet voice whispered.
What a waste of that pretty face, they said, sadly, what's the point of such glassy skin and those black hair and eyes when there is no regard for that? A snarky voice chirped.
Coronis looked around, eyes wide open. Have I gone maniac? She asked herself.
Oh! She hears us! Sweety, we were once in your position. A voice giggled.
How are you so pretty? Why so little blood on you? Huh? Some of us here were already dead by the time we reached this bridge.
They threw me here because I was half dead.
You should jump off right now!
How could she? She is protected by them. Look! They have her tied securely. Even if she did jump, they would catch her.
She must be someone important to Him.
Shut up! No one is important to Him!
The whispers evaded her head as they grew louder and louder. The one, very precisely, stood out from the rest…
Get away. You are going to die horribly.
Die.
Die.
Die.
The hysteria rose within her and the adrenaline rushed through her blood. It was only when the captors stopped she realized they had crossed the bridge and were in front of the humongous metal doors.
The adrenaline blinded her throughout the journey. She looked back and could not see more than a few meters. The fog was too dense and it seemed as if the other side didn't exist at all. As if she entered a whole other world. Even worse from where she came.
The captors got off the horses. The horses were escorted back as the metal doors creaked open. The guards passed, tugging her in with them.
The inside was steady. As if no one lived there. However, she could see some men standing in their positions. All dressed in black, holding their swords or axes. Their half of the faces were only covered with sheer cloth. Not as much as they wore while lurking in the village.
The front was a huge garden, filled with black, white and red roses, and dried shrubs. It looked abandoned. Lifeless. An illusion of death around the thorny beauty of roses, one could say.
The guards pulled her through the thorny path and took her in through a much smaller door.
The inside was dark and eerie. Huge black chandeliers, barely reflecting the orange of the mashal, were hanging down the path they took. The Gothic design followed throughout. If she wasn't bleeding and brought here like an object, she would have been amazed. It was unlikely, she had never seen something remotely as beautiful as this.
“She is here,” a guard spoke with another guard standing outside of another set of doors. This was distinguishable from the others. The rest were metal but this was a black, velvety door.
The four guards removed their masks as the doors opened. “Now, when we go inside, you need to bow down to His Majesty,” one of the guards said, tugging her inside.
Court. It was the court of His Majesty.
The scent of roses filled her nose as she stepped inside. She saw six women standing there, three on each side, with their heads lowered. They wore black dresses that left very little to the fantasy. Although, they were draped with mesh cloth.
They walked in, and Coronis’ feet left bloodied imprints on the floor.
Coronis slowly took in what was in front of her. There were big, black seats. What appeared to be the members of the court, were sitting on them. Every man sat was accompanied by two ladies dressed the same as the six others. There were three on each side.
Her eyes came back to the centre. Royal stairs were leading her eyes up and up and up until her eyes fell on the lady kneeling between long legs. Coronis followed those legs. She noticed a large hand clutching the hair of the lady and pushed and pulled on it.
She could see his big chest through the opening of his robe blouse. His chest was defined and she could see the pointy bits poking through the silky material. His chest was moving up and down as he breathed heavily.
Following the path of his thick glassy neck as it bobbed when he groaned hoarsely, her eyes fell on The Creation of the Devil. Her mouth fell open when she saw His face. It was the art of the devil. Sinfully sculpted monster. He had a chiselled jaw, clear skin, and a perfect nose. His eyes were closed as his head was resting back on his high chair. The big crown was held high on it, signifying his power over his kingdom.
She gasped as her eyes snapped to the whole scene, realizing what he was doing to her.
Nobody seemed to care but no one wanted to disrupt his euphoria either. But her gasp did.
The King's eyes slowly opened as his smirk grew. He looked at her with those same piercing eyes that she had been having nightmares about.
No way he was so sinfully beautiful. His cunning features were sharp, reflecting his influence and his confidence among his people. He was breathtaking and clean.
She had always envisioned Him to be an older man. With a dirty self and skanky looks. But oh was she wrong. But the monster living under his skin was all of those things. He was the Satan who lured innocents with his ethereal handsome looks to manipulate them to hell.
The monsters come in good faces, Coro. Never forget that, her mother has said once. She was right.
His Majesty let out a breathy moan as he chuckled. “Oh, we are here, aren't we,” he hummed as he shoved his cock deeper into the lady’s mouth, feeling ever so aroused in his Birdy's warm presence. This time, his satiny voice was not muffled behind the mask he wore.
The guards bowed down, pulling her along them and made her kneel in front of Him. Her forehead touched the ground roughly.
The King groaned, not liking how his pretty little birdy was bowing making her pretty little face hide behind her dark black hair.
“Let me see that pretty face,” he rasped. The guards pulled her up by the chains until she was standing again. “Hm,” he hummed as his cock twitched inside the lady's mouth. He was about to finish down her throat by just looking at his little birdy. “So, pretty but a fucking bitch. Can't even obey one thing I asked her.” he tsked, shaking his head in disappointment.
Coronis was scared, who wouldn't be when you are surrounded by a pack of bloodthirsty wolves? But she tried to not let it slip. She stood on her ground and looked into his hazel, burning eyes.
The King's gaze darkened as he shoved the lady's head deeper, holding her there until she was unable to breathe. “You shall obey every command I give you. Nobody has the power to deny it. And you did! And you shall now pay the price,” he darkly said and let go of the lady. “You must remember your place, little birdy. Or you might get in trouble with the unspeakable. Now tell me, will you obey your lord?”
Coronis looked at him, panting with boiling rage. Forcefully, she nodded.
“Words!” He snapped, making her and the lady flinch. “You use your goddamn words!” he sneered.
She took a deep breath and muttered, “Yes, my Lord.” She looked like the words physically pained her. “I will obey.”
A dark smirk flashed on his face. “We will see that. Now take her away and lock her up!” He commanded his men.
The guards tugged her with them after bowing once more. The last thing she saw of the king was him shoving the lady away from his lap as his eyes stayed focused on hers with a dirty smirk dancing across his thin, sinister lips.
The slammer was small. It barely had any space to move. One Mashal was burning in the corner of the box. There was no gap in the wall for a skylight. No sign of day or night. No sign of the outside world. No sign of life.
Coronis’ body was aching. She had been sitting here for days as it felt. The only interaction she got other than talking to herself in her mind was when the guards brought food. The food was one stale bread. Sometimes with mold on it. She kept the count of the meals served. If she wasn't wrong, it had been two days since she was brought here.
Her clothes were the same one from that horrid day. She couldn't even use the hole for a toilet at the corner as at least one guard always kept an eye on her. Her insides were hurting but she refused to show them any more of her skin.
Their smirks and scoffs were humiliating her enough.
She missed her home. Her mother's delicious food. Circe's warm hugs. Her father’s quirky remarks. And her brother’s protection.
It felt lonely and depressing. Never did she realise how much she relied on them until now when she was far away from them. All this time she kept whining about them relying on her but she was the one relying on them for sanity.
She wondered what they were doing, whether they were missing her or considered her dead. She didn't even get to properly say goodbye to them.
~~~
Circe clung to Coronis. She was numb, knowing her sister would never come back. She just sat in her lap and took all the comfort she had to give to her.
“I will miss you,” the little girl whispered.
Coronis hugged her tight, “Me too…” she kissed her forehead. “Promise me you won't disobey Mumma and Papa and our brother. Okay? See what happens when you go out? You get in trouble that costs you your life. Don't repeat what I did,” she patted her back for comfort. She wasn't even sure who she was comforting more, herself or her little sister.
Circe nodded and a soft sob escaped her throat. “I won’t.”
“Take care of everyone. Don't let them fall, okay? And you are going to look after yourself, too, for me,” Coronis found it hard to let go of the tiny being in her arms. Nothing could ever prepare her for this.
Her father and brother were away for work. They couldn't even meet her before she left for good. She could only hug their belongings, filled with their scent to her heart and feel them with her eyes closed.
Her mother was a mess. She had fainted when she came to know about the whole deal. She blamed herself for this. The moment she woke up, she prepared Coronis’s favourite food. She wanted her to go with her stomach full. She sat her down and fed with her own hands.
“Coro, we love you, okay? You are loved, my child. Never forget that,” she kept repeating.
Coronis found it hard to look into her eyes but she did, for the last time before they dragged her away from them.
She didn't look back, knowing her mother and sister were not fine. If she had, she wasn't even certain if she could leave them like this. There was no choice but to leave.
The dark beauty left her heart behind in the shack with her family.
~~~
Tears of despair tracked down Coronis’ scratched face. She felt cold. Not the one because of winter but because of the distance between her family.
She had nothing left, except these tight walls of hell. She was ruined, destroyed and left to rot. If one thing she could change, she would have. She would have stayed in her shack that day. She could have kept her head down or gone inside of some seller. Anything but looking into death's eyes.
Silent cries were all she could afford here in this dark place.
Two shadows loomed outside of her space. The guards. She curled in a ball and hid her face from them. She couldn't bear looking at them.
“What do you say? Should we use this fucking thing?” one of them said in a low voice.
“Are you fucking quipping me?! If He finds out, He will skin us alive and drink our blood like a bloodthirsty hound,” the other one screeched.
“How would he know? We won't leak a word to anyone. Just look at that fine flesh. I bet she is nice and tight,” the guard moaned.
Coronis closed her eyes tightly, wishing that it was just a sick nightmare that would end soon in death. The final piece.
“She is His prized possession. I won't take a chance with her…” the second one said. “Maybe just let Him have his merriment and then when he gets what he wants, we can take over.”
They scoffed. But quickly rushed away when the main door to the slammer banged opened. The heavy boots thumped against the concrete floor and stopped right in front of Coronis’ space. She assumed it was one of the guards.
The gate of her slammer opened and the tiny space was consumed by a heavy presence.
There it was, that unique musky scent. Her eyes shot open and looked above her. And there he stood, His Majesty.
His lips curved into a thin smirk, deepening his little dimple. The broad chest was bare for her eyes. She could make all eight pecs on his abdomen very precisely. His long luscious hair was half-tied behind and his shorter loose hair fell on his eyes.
There was a wickedness in his glint. Menace. That's how it came across like. He was hungry and he came down to devour her.
It looked like her time finally came to an end.
“My little birdy has never looked so dirty. We shall change that, shouldn't we?” he cooed.
Coronis shifted and tried to sit up straight, but her body wasn't shifting how she wanted. She ended up limping against the dirty wall.
“I don't like you here, my birdy. I think you belong in an amenity, next to me like my pretty little birdy. Isn't that right… little birdy?” he crouched down, His finger lightly grazing her cheekbone.
She was shivering like a leaf in a storm as she hurried to the far corner, not wanting to have His hands on her. But he was fast to hold her bruised ankle and pull her closer to his sickening warmth. Her pretty little feet were swollen, bloodied, and- and needed care. His care.
His pretty little birdy was in pain, he realized. He told them not to hurt his birdy but here she was, all bruised and wounded. Her pretty little face was scratched, and her eyes were dull and swollen, aching from crying.
What else was she hiding under her dirty white gown?
“My birdy…” he whispered. “My little porcelain doll, they broke you? Poor thing,” he kissed her ankle, making her flinch.
“Y-you can't b-break something that has been turned into ashes long ago,” she sobbed. She hated that she got so weak in front of Him. He was nothing but a fear of destruction. He held authority over her and she hated that she let him.
“Why do you think I brought you here, hm? I shall heal you, my little birdy,” he whispered as his hand caressed her hair. He was gentle with her. Just as he said– his porcelain little doll. “We shall heal together,” he quietly whispered, not letting her know his silent words.
His Majesty looked around in the slammer, he saw how the bread had not been eaten and was rotting near the toilet. He looked pained, his thick eyebrows narrowed together. As if he could feel her pain.
In a sick, twisted way, she felt comforted. His touches were gentle and meant no harm. As much as she was scared, she yearned for this, a bit of warmth.
But her rational mind took over, making her aware of the menaces of this heartless tool. “Please,” she begged.
He cocked his head to the side, “Please what, little birdy? What are you begging for?” He gently held her jaw and made her look into his eyes. “I think I should be the one begging for you to give me yourself,” his thumb played with her trembling bottom lip.
Coronis shook her head vigorously to get his hands off her face, “please let me go,” she begged again. “I won't say a word to anybody. Just let me go back to my family. I want to go back!”
“I am your family!” He snapped. “I didn't bring you here to let you walk out. I brought you here to keep you and nourish you like the doll you are!” the understanding of the situation was out of Coronis’ reach.
She wondered why she was so different in his eyes that he wanted to nourish her. She wondered why she was His little birdy or a porcelain doll that he didn't want to break.
Oblivious of her blinding beauty, she questioned His thinking.
“You belong here, Coronis,” He said, sternly with softness at the edge of His rough voice. “You belong right next to me.”
She shook her head as tears poured out of her eyes and down her cheeks.
“This was your punishment,” He whispered, looking around the dingy slammer. “I hate to keep you here, little birdy… you need to be reminded that my command is your obligation, your duty and that you must fulfill it with all your heart. I think now you won't ever forget that. And if you do…” He shook His head, His expression as if He was scared. “It won’t be a bearable punishment,” the faces of all of his convicts who were punished by his hands. He didn't want to paint a picture of her in that dungeon of slayings. She was too pretty and too precious to be in that picture. His Majesty's heart squeezed thinking about it. He shook his head, “you can not be in there. I won't take you there for your punishment. No no no,” He whispered to himself.
The thought of losing this beauty was far too dreadful to be having.
Coronis looked at the King dealing with his own commotion deep down his hazel eyes. She gasped when he pulled her in his embrace, her cheek against his bare chest. She could hear his heart beating like a storm.
“I can't let that happen,” He whispered. “I can't lose you, too. I will protect you,” He kissed her hair as he kept whispering to himself.
Coronis realized she was not getting out, not alive, not dead.
She couldn't figure out if this was the end or the beginning of her tale.
Perhaps, this was going to be the beginning of an end.
Her fate was sealed with His. She was bound to serve him in this lifetime.
She accepted her fate and melted in His chest. Her tears stopped and her mind numbed. The last thing she heard while she felt faded kisses on her head before, out of strain, she lost consciousness was—
“I'm going to keep you under my wing forever, my little birdy.”
…..
Sanaa's note:
The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.
Taglist:
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Have nice day/night💓
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gojoidyll · 4 months
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Infinity
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Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader
Part 13 | sukuna and a crush
Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.
Warnings | none
Infinity Masterlist
RYOMEN SUKUNA held her fiercely. His four arms never seemed to let her go. Anywhere he went, he made sure to have her follow. Be it behind him, beside him, or sitting atop his shoulders, or held in his arms.
He was always so cautious even when he was strongest back then.
"Where are you going?"
It was one of his lives where he had her all to himself.
"Nowhere..."
He knew when she was lying, when she was sad, happy, mad. It didn't matter how she hid her emotions. He could tell. He had many of her lives to practice after all.
"Is that so?"
She nodded, but she didn't look up to meet his gaze.
"Maybe i should force it out of you then."
Her eyes widened at that, which was when she decided to turn and run. Poor choice.
"Running away," he caught her easily, "you know you can't get away."
She pushed at his hands, his many many hands, "let go! I have to go somewhere!"
"Where? Why?"
She shook her head, refusing to answer.
"You leave me no choice, brat."
She grabbed one of his wrists, "Please! Anything but tickling! Anything but that!"
"Foolish woman, you resigned to your fate!"
"No! Hahaha! Stop! Stop it! If you tickle me I'm going to pee! Sukunaaaa!"
It wasn't everyday that other curses or servants witness THE King of Curses get into a tickle fight with his wife, and when it does happen? All one can do is look away and never speak of it. Because Sukuna may be soft with her, but with anyone else? It will mean death.
"Al- alright, alright! I'll tell you, just hah no more!"
Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes as she struggled within his grip. Her body withering as he finally stopped his assault.
He looked at her expectantly, but was obviously prepared to tickle her again if need be.
"That new cursed blade...the- hah- the blacksmith who made it was traveling to the town closest to hear today and tomorrow and I wanted him to make that blade for you."
She was still trying to catch her breath as her lungs finally got the air they needed and she no longer felt that ticklish feeling.
"Foolish woman..., we can just go together."
She pouted at him, arms crossed and everything, "it was supposed to be a surprise."
He rolled both sets of his eyes, spoiled, taken care of, doted on. Y/n was a handful even as his wife. But at least she was here. Alive.
"You'll get over it. Where I go, you go. Where you go, I go. That's the promise we made, and I expect you to keep, brat."
She huffed, "fine... but I still plan to wrap it for you and give it to you as present! And you better act surprised when you receive it!"
"Whatever."
"Hey!"
"Ughhh, what the? A dream?"
Itadori Yuji woke unceremoniously in the dead of night, the dream unfinished and his heart aching uncontrollably.
"Am I sick or something?"
Despite his inner turmoil and the questions that popped up into his mind, Sukuna didn't say anything. The last thing the King of Curses was going to do was explain to the brat was that he was dreaming of Sukuna's past.
Itadori decided to ignore the uneasy feeling in the end, and tried his best to go back to sleep, but he did admit that it was hard to.
I mean, he did dream of you, after all, which felt wrong to him.
[...]
"You're up late."
She felt someone gently flick her forehead, causing her to look up from her paperwork.
"Oh! Gojo! Yeah, I am. I just wanted to get some assignments ready for tomorrow- er," she glanced at the clock her desk, "I mean today," she said while amending her sentence. Her clock read 2:01 a.m. she honestly didn't realize how late she stayed.
"Why don't I take you home?"
She shook her head as she stood up from her desk and neatly stacked the papers before gathering up her belongings, "don't worry, Gojo! You don't have to."
"But I want to."
He gave her the best smile he could muster. Disarming, trustworthy, lighthearted. He didn't want to scare her away, but he also didn't want her to go away too soon. If she was going home, then he obviously wanted to go to.
"Well,... I guess a walking partner wouldn't be so bad," she relented, and he grinned.
"Who said anything about walking?"
"Wha-"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her close, "ever tried teleporting before?"
A rhetorical question. Of course she hasn't.
"G- gojo, I heard you could teleport, but I don't think I want to-"
He held her close, gently, "don't you trust me?"
She gave him a look, her mind working fast, "well, yes, but-"
"No buts! You said yes, and that's all I need."
He held her hand with his free one, "tell me where you live and you'll be there in flash."
She couldn't help her nerves, they were going haywire. Though, deep down, she did have to admit that she was curious to see how teleportation worked. She heard the rumors that Gojo could do it, so... maybe she should just give it a try? Once surely won't hurt.
So she gave him her address.
He grinned down at her when she relented, "then hold on tight."
She did as she was told and clung to the front of his uniform, her fingers twisted into the fabric as she screwed her eyes shut. Despite wanting to try, she still couldn't deny the fear that ebbed away at her.
There's a first for everything after all.
"And, we're here."
He was so close. His breath tickled her ear, it made her face feel hot all of a sudden as she let go of him and back away a bit. Though, her legs still felt a little wobbly, but luckily as she fell back, she landed on her couch which cushioned her fall.
"Oh wow."
The feeling was indescribable. It definitely felt weird from shifting from one place and then being in another so quickly.
"Pretty cool, right?"
"Mmm."
She still couldn't form many words even as she sat there.
"Hey, you good?"
She finally focused on Gojo then as he crouched in front of her, his blindfold was off and his bright, blue eyes were filled with concern that she hadn't felt in a long time.
"I'm good... just next time... let's just walk together, ok?"
He smiled then and patted her knee, the sensation sending a jolt through her entire leg, "deal!"
He was excited for when next time would come by.
She cleared her throat then as she went to stand up, Gojo immediately helping her as he took her hands and pulled her. Her bag falling to the couch cushions.
"An- anyway, even though it's late, do you want anything? Something to drink or eat?"
He let go of her hands and stuffed them into his pockets, "nah, I'm good. Just wanted to get you home and safe was all."
She couldn’t deny how her face felt hot all of sudden and she wondered if he did this with all his female coworkers, "well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Always."
And even as she bid him goodnight and showed him to her front door of her apartment, she found that she wanted him to stay and talk a little longer.
But she wasn't stupid. He was good-looking, nice, a total catch. She knew he would never see her like that and that he probably has a totally hot and rich girlfriend warming his bed right now.
"Yeah," she said with a chuckle, "I have no chance with him. Best to toss this little crush of mine out the window," her sheepish laugh echoed a little in her empty hallway when she shut and locked the door.
The exhaustion from the days events finally hitting her as she made her way to her room so she could finally crash in her bed.
"Though, crushing on him a little won't hurt, right?"
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roselibrary · 1 year
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𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞
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Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon! Reader
Trigger Warnings: murder, targcest, eventual dark!aemond, yandere!aemond, obsessive behaviour, typical targ madness
Summary: Aemond would have his sea-nymph one way or another.
Requests are open!
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Summer blossomed like the pink buds on a cherry tree coming to life the day the young Prince Aemond realised his affection for his niece. She had ensnared his soul and enraptured his heart like the vines of ivy devouring the exterior of a Keep. Silver locks and lilac spun eyes that beheld all the secrets in the world, it seemed. Soft-tanned skin – a perfect blend of her mother and father though the same could not be said for those she called brothers – that beamed soft gold in the light of the sun and lips that looked as if only the sweetest of fruits had kissed them. Her hair shone pearlescent in a similar fashion to the decorations often found woven into her curly smooth locks. They fascinated him; the way the peals glimmered in the light and emerged from her curls like the foam atop a crashing wave.
More Velaryon than Targaryen in truth was she. She, too, had no dragon to call her own but instead proclaimed the sea as her abode and its treasures her horde. He wished to be considered a valuable item amongst those she already kept. Soft-spoken and gentle in nature she was her mother's pride and joy – the image of her grandmother they deemed the sea nymph. Sometimes, he wondered if she could grow a tail much like the mystical mermaid on the sigil of House Manderly and if she could, would she finally join her beloved sea and leave them all to wither on land? Those thoughts never brought him any comfort. Instead, he remained grateful that for as much as she wished to join the sea in all ways; she simply was unable to.
He often prayed to the gods in thanks for her inability to simply vanish on the waves.
It became lonely, living in such cold solitude, after a while and none could deny the younger prince led a cold, solitary life. His other kin shone so brightly, vivaciously and with such vitality that it was easy for him to fall into the shadows, the darkness, and the madness. He was a scarred second son of a King who did not even deem his firstborn son his heir. Aemond believed deeply in tradition and the stability such a thing brought to the realm; he could not fathom his elder half-sister bringing chaos with her untraditional succession claim. His sister would openly have a bastard follow her on the throne. Perhaps that’s where his true sentiments lay; he did not despise his sister for being a woman with a powerful agency, or even for being the heir to the throne, but for what would come after his sister's succession. What precedent would it set if bastards could inherit before trueborn children? What chaos would that sow within the realm? Aemond was a man of routine, tradition, and unrelenting stability all of which Rhaenyra was inherently posed to ruin.
Aemond didn’t wish to see his little sea nymph fall with her mother, as she undoubtedly would, due to her unending loyalty and devotion to her catastrophic family. His Gentle Dragon had no qualms openly expressing her love and devotion to the young men that would steal her birthright; it was bad enough the elder prince Jacaerys would steal her place upon the iron throne but downright insulting that, the younger than she, Lucerys would steal the birthright of her father from her person by claiming Driftmark. Aemond wished to see her claim her rightful place as the heiress of Driftmark as the only trueborn child of its heir, however, he would not want to see her seated atop the iron throne.
The monolithic, fearsome work of art did not suit the gentle and ever-changing disposition that she carried with her. Unmoving iron and sharp-edged swords should be nowhere near the supple curves and smooth skin lining her form, instead – if it were not for his no-good elder brother – he would sit upon the iron-casted seat of death in her place. He would be her King and she, his Queen. He had only to find a way to keep her with him permanently.  
Perhaps his father's addled mind and desperation for peace would smile fortuitously upon the one-eyed prince, for once.
It had been many a year since his eyes last wandered upon the form of his beloved sea nymph – a name he only acknowledged in his mind's depths. The realm’s Gentle Dragon had returned to Kings Landing alongside the rest of her kin when protests were raised on the legitimacy of her younger brother's claim to Driftmark. Something many deemed rightfully hers. She glowed effervescent in her Velaryon blue and soft violet threaded gown the silk gently forming the curves of her body and flowing down the lengths of her arms and back. It seemed the dress also recognised the girl's call of the sea for it moulded like waves and rippled in each minuscule movement of her own. The train of the gown followed behind her like the sea lapping at the sand of the beach never quite reaching as far in as it wished.
She stood beside her mother with her head held high in pride as her uncle all but disparaged what remained of her mother's good name - if anything was left of it to begin with. It had delighted him to see the Strong princelings debased in such a public manner and their mother alongside them. He enjoyed much less the disparagement of the Crown Princess’s only daughter and the belief that she would fall to the same whims her mother had and beget only bastards for her future husband. No, that did not please the prince at all. He had observed and planned and waited patiently for many a year to gain his nymph and she would give him no bastards – he knew she wouldn’t. His nymph was too intelligent, dutiful, and self-aware of the consequences of such a thing to attempt such a crime.
Still, his blood boiled, and his hands clenched behind his back. It took an effort to keep his stoicism about his person in the face of his ever-present wrath but within a second his wrath was replaced with bewildered wonderment. Gone was Ser Vaemond’s head; instead the figure of his uncle stood tall, proud, and nonchalant in the face of such grotesque violence. Aemond felt the stirrings of admiration and conflict within his chest at such a sight. This man, his uncle, was a threat, an obstacle, his biggest unrelenting guard towards what Aemond had deemed his. All the realms knew of how Daemon favoured his girls over his boys, and none could deny how he had claimed the Gentle Dragon as much his own as his other brown-skinned, silver-haired darlings. He clenched his jaw. It seemed he would need to confide with another of his aspirations if he wanted to succeed where others had failed.
As if the man could hear the thoughts echoing in the princeling's brain the Rogue turned and leered. Aemond could see the taunt within his gaze, the dare for him to be as foolish as the man who kept his tongue but lost his head.
He could hear the whisper Daemon Targaryen’s eyes conveyed.
“Claim her, if you're bold enough.”
Just as he proved to his father when he claimed Vhagar; Aemond would once more prove that he was, indeed, bold enough.
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i-heart-slashers · 6 months
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hi!! can i please request yandere! steve harrington with prompts "my perfect little doll is what you are.”
+ "you look so pretty tied up like this"? thank you so much! your writing is exquisite 💋
Hi! Thank you for reading and requesting. Sorry it took so long but I hope you like it!
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"my perfect little doll is what you are.” + "you look so pretty tied up like this"
Pairings: Yandere!Steve Harrington x GN!Reader
Warning(s): yandere, stalker, violence, death, obsession, blood mentioned, abduction.
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He'd seen you. He'd fallen for you, and now he wanted you.
You think to yourself that you should have seen this coming, but honestly, there were no signs that Steve Harrington, or King Steve, as you remember him before his downfall, was anything other than a good guy.
He waved to you in the halls and helped you if you were doing something outside of school. Once, he even helped your mom into the house with groceries.
Maybe that's how he got a key to the house.
All those times that he'd randomly popped up out of nowhere didn't seem so innocent now. The amount of times you'd go home to find him helping out one of your parents with some chore they just happened to need help with.
Groceries, lawn mowing, cleaning the pool out… He was always there and somehow always knew that they needed a helping hand.
It was that first moment of his helpfulness that your parents were taken by his charm and nudged you with a wink as they nodded in his direction, clearly thinking about some kind of relationship setup.
You, however, didn't reciprocate the same admiration for Steve. His fall from King was swift and brutal, but you still remember how he had been—a jerk and a cruel one.
Nevertheless, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing people could change. Steve had changed; he took in the younger kids and made a best friend in Robin. They were a group of social outcasts compared to the one pristine pedestal Steve had been used to.
Maybe it was the polite smiles you had given him or the way you allowed him to linger after he had struck up a conversation. You had a feeling Steve had gotten the wrong idea.
Waving it off in lieu of hanging out with your friends, you could help but notice something niggled at you whenever you caught him glancing in your direction.
You should have listened to your gut instinct.
"my perfect little doll is what you are," Steve whispers in your ear as he adjusts the clothing that he had forced you to change into in front of him shortly after entering your home.
All you could do was sob behind the tape over your mouth, knowing that just a floor under your bedroom, your parents were taking their last breaths from the brutal onslaught Steve had inflicted on them.
His good neighborly act ensured they never saw it coming; he even whistled as he attacked them. Seeing him walk back into your room with a calm smile while covered in blood was something you never thought you would witness.
"you look so pretty tied up like this," He whispered, kissing your cheek as he tugged on the rope that bound your arms and legs before he picked you up and forced you out of your home.
He'd stalked you. He loves you, and now… he has you.
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inazuman · 1 year
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tools of destiny
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☁  blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁  reader is afab. yandere, dubcon, kidnapping, blade calls reader some derogatory language but there's praise too, bondage (belt), whipping, breeding, oral sex (f receiving), cumplay, stockholm syndrome ☁  A/N: basically it's yandere dubcon kidnapper blade with reader who tries to fight back only to give in to the pleasure. also cherubimbunny gave me this fic idea hehe ily mwah ☁ 6k words ☁ @trailblazernet
Blade’s loyalty to the Stellaron Hunters, to Destiny’s Slave, knows no bounds.
Let me out! Please!
He follows every order with little question, giving Elio his complete faith.
I-I haven’t done anything bad, I swear!
He abandoned his body to become a weapon. He has murdered, deceived, and taken from others in the name of destiny.
Where am I? Where are you taking me?
His actions with you are no exception.
“Please. Please let me go. What do you want from me?!”
You speak as soon as you hear the door open, your blindfold seeped with tears that streak down your cheeks. The person says nothing, and the door clicks close. Heavy footsteps track towards you, warm hands untying the cloth from around your head even as you try to shuffle back on the floor, their expensive-smelling cologne filling the air.
You blink once, twice, looking around you. You’re in a… a bedroom? Your breath is taken by the luxury surrounding you, a full king size bed on high stilts sits right behind you.
You stare at the man that captured you, and he can’t help but stare back at your eyes, the way they’re full of anger and hurt.
“What did you bring me here for? I haven’t done anything wrong, haven’t hurt anyone. Why am I here?”
He simply observes you, the way you move from demure to strong to pitiful, as if one of those will finally grant you an answer from him.
After a beat of silence, two, he finally speaks.
“I won’t lie to you. You are a prisoner here.” He keeps his head tilted down, but you swear you think he almost looks pleased witha slight smile on his face. “But we mean you no discomfort, for the most part. If you choose, you can live comfortably. We will take care of you, feed you well, give you anything you’d like to keep you entertained. You may even want to join our side. Or,” he shifts his weight off the wall, taking one step forward, and you immediately feel fear enrapture you, like the walls are closing in around you. You shuffle back, retreating until your shoulders hit the footboard of the bed.
Like a hunted rabbit, he can’t help but think. Something about a scared, pretty girl has him running his thumb against his jaw, though there’d be time for that later.
“Or,” he continues, “you can make this difficult. You can try to escape, but you won’t be able to. And I will tie you up, break your legs, whatever is necessary to ensure the arrival of the destiny that Elio chooses.”
“Destiny?! What destiny could I be involved in?”
With a flick of his wrist, his sword materializes in his hand. You immediately regret your tone. The bed shifts behind you as you press your back against it, but faster than you can blink, the edge of the sword slices against your ties from the side. You roll your wrists free, the chafing evident on your skin.
He doesn’t care to answer, pressing a button on the wall, door sliding open, but he hesitates. He turns his jaw back to you, as if lost in thought and eyeing you up all at once.
“A destiny greater than both you and I,” the words are voiced carefully, like a prophecy, but the moment is gone in an instant. “Rest up, girl. Know that even if you make it off this floor, there is nowhere to run. We are in the Stellaron Hunters’ headquarters, in the middle of space.”
He leaves swiftly, and you make a note of the way two different locks sound as the door shuts – one mechanical, one electronic.
You look around to find that the man is correct. There is a table with a screen that acts as both a vanity and a computer, expertly hacked so that you can play games and watch shows, but can’t communicate with the outside world. The bathroom is just as hauntingly beautiful, with both a bathtub and a shower, even the sink counter is littered with various, unopened products.
All the added ways that they’ve evidently made the bedroom as comfortable as possible have ironically made the situation all the more fearful. How long do they plan to keep you here? What do they need from you? What does your comfort matter to them? 
But you’re exhausted. You only manage to shower and brush your teeth before crashing on the bed.
-
It’s unfortunate that it’s Blade’s job to care about your comfortability, but in Elio’s words, ‘the less resistance she has to you, the better’.
He takes the painstaking, daily task of bringing you your three meals at set times, leaving them on your desk like some kind of butler or room service (that’s his limit. Someone else can take them out when you’re done). All so you can get used to him, his presence, grow some sort of sick attachment to him.
Stockholm syndrome is what Kafka called it.
“Human emotions are fickle, you see,” Kafka trails her hand over his shoulder, playing the little game she plays to keep someone entranced on her. But Blade has seen it far too many times to have any reaction. “They aren’t… something that can be mapped with 100% guarantee in destiny’s path. Though, her acceptance and willingness in this situation isn’t necessary, it would make things easier.”
He waves the explanation off, retiring to his room to handle the second part of his job with you. The dreams.
He plants them in your mind with his abilities as mere suggestions. His hand grazing over your thighs, between them, up your body, to your breasts… His breath hot against your skin, his hard member pressed up against you…
You jolt awake from them, covered in cold sweat.  
It’s all in preparation for the day Kafka tells you the truth of your arrival.
-
“You are to create a powerful warrior, the heir of Destiny.”
Kafka says it so gently during your weekly meeting that you step back, shocked and enraged all at once.
“Excuse me?” you almost spit the words at her. “How dare you-”
“Ah, ah.” She taps the gun strapped to her side once. “We’ve been real nice to you, sweetheart. I’d hate to see things get messy between us, wouldn’t you?”
You shut up immediately, realizing the situation. You’ve been brought here and treated well, not because they care, or because they even like you, but for this purpose alone.
“You get it now, don’t you?” she whispers in your ear, playing with your hair, both intimate and threatening all at once. “There are things we can do to make you more… placid in the situation. But something consensual would make it more pleasant for the both of you. We’ve even added some items in your bathroom, so that you can feel nice and fresh before and after. What do you say, hm? You wanna play with some new things?”
-
You take the week Kafka gives you to prepare. But what you prepare is not just your body or your looks. The nail files you were given have been sharpened steadily, forks and knives from your meals tucked under different parts of your mattress and pillows. Any attempt to search up how to prevent a pregnancy or anything even related to it gives a blank page. Whoever is their tech person is damn good.
On the day of, Kafka raps her knuckles three times over your door. You know it’s her, because Blade never knocks. Her eyes rack up and down your body, an eyebrow arched.
“Blade will be here any minute. Are you not going to get dressed?”
She doesn’t wait for your answer, moving straight towards your closet with some girl best friend mentality instead of your captor. You play with the hem of your pajama shirt, your fingers jittering against the fabric as she hums quietly, hangars clicking against each other with every nervous second, only stopping with a satisfied mhmm!
“Here you go, sweetheart.” She pulls out a raunchy, wine red lingerie set with a matching sheer gown, almost like the colors on Blade’s usual outfit.
“It doesn’t really matter what I wear, does it?”
You shouldn’t question her, shouldn’t comment, but the overthinking runs through your mind so heavily that words full or resentment spew out before you can stop yourself. What happens after you’ve had the baby? Is that it? Is your purpose finished? 
Kafka smiles sweetly at you. “Of course it matters. You and Blade are Destiny’s match. In some cultures, a pre-organized match is how all marriages are made. As long as you cooperate, this could be a pleasurable experience! I’ve heard Blade’s quite talented in bed.” She acts like the conversation is nothing, holding the lingerie up to your body to see if the color matches your skin tone.
As long as you cooperate.
“A-After…”
Kafka laughs, so sweetly you might even feel like you were friends. “Oh, darling! As long as everything goes smoothly, there are no plans to get rid of you just yet. Does that help that pretty little head of yours?” She taps your forehead before pressing the hangars against your hands, gently pushing you towards the bathroom.
“Good luck, darling! I just know you look beautiful.”
-
Despite your preparations, nothing prepares you for Blade’s presence.
His heavy boots strike the floor with every step into your room before he sits at the foot of your bed to remove them with a thump, like he belongs here. He’s closer than he’s ever been to you since the day he grabbed you, so much so that you can smell his aftershave.
When he glances at you past his fringe, you tuck the blanket closer over you. It’s cute, he thinks. Even after seeing him day after day, you’re still the scared bunny he captured. He chuckles low in his throat. He approaches you like a predator seeking its prey, his arms stretched out. As if the open gesture makes him any less dangerous, as if you feel any less hunted. He wants to tell you that there’s nothing to be scared of, but you’d both know he’s lying.
“I can make this good for you,” he opts for instead, kneeling over you on the bed. You can’t help but notice how he towers over you, how tight his clothing fits over his body. He watches carefully at the way your fingers twitch in response.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you show me what’s under that blanket?” He carefully brings himself over, tugging the blanket between your hands, right in front of your chest. You let him, the duvet falling away, his eyes instantly marveling over your figure.
He wolf-whistles low, the sheer gown doing nothing to hide the pretty lingerie that hugs your body underneath.
“You got all prettied up for me, doll?” He wants to touch you, wants to tear it off of you like he was promised he’d be able to, but a glint of something holds him back. Because when he looks right into your eyes –
They burn with aggression. Even behind the fear and the innocence, he can feel the way you’re just about to fight or flight.
“Why don’t you let me in, doll? Let me touch you, okay?” He removes his shirt as he talks, unbuttoning it and sliding it off to reveal strong muscle and scarred tissue, your eyes wide at his figure.
You’re hesitant, not even sure why he’s asking, but you nod anyways. He starts with placing his hand on your calf, moving it up to your knee, reminding you of the dreams you’ve had night after night of him exactly like this, the touch both light and electric. He runs his other hand over your jaw, thumb over your cheek, even as you flinch slightly away.
“’m gonna kiss you,” the warning is a courtesy. He needs to speed things up, pressing a kiss to your forehead to test the waters, before pressing another one to your lips.
It’s soft, at first, his lips pillowy against your own. He deepens it, resting the back of your head onto the pillow, pressing your body into the mattress. His tongue swipes behind your teeth.
You wait, like a bird about to swoop down. Let your legs wrap around his torso, bringing him close, a soft groan escapes him from your initiative, eagerly seeking you back as his hands work their way up your thighs.
And then you strike, your heartbeat sharp in your chest, reaching behind you to grab a sharp nail file and hauling it towards his neck-
You hear it clatter to the ground before you can even process, wrist pinned to the mattress, squeezed borderline painfully between his thumb and forefinger. He acts like it’s nothing, continues wrapping his tongue around yours like you hadn’t just attempted to murder him. The only gesture he even recognizes what you did is the slight smile you feel against your lips as he pulls you in for another kiss.
So you fight, you aim between his legs as you kick and thrash, only for his other hand to wrap a hand around both your ankles clasped together. With both his hands occupied, you grab at the inside of one of your pillows to stab a fork into his side, but he’s faster, always faster, using his calf to pin your legs down as he slams your other wrist down on either side of you. His hands cover over yours like a lover, he comes right up against your ear to whisper –
“Tsk, tsk. Bad girl.”
The nail files you sharpened, the forks and knives you kept from your meals. All of it becomes futile, useless, against Blade. Every attempt you make to even scrape him between kisses are effectively knocked away, as if they never happened. He presses your hips down heavier into the bed.
“My, my. Someone’s been naughty when preparing for my arrival, haven’t you?”
“H-How can you go through with this?!” You spew out in frustration at his unfazed manner. “You kidnap, murder, manipulate others just for the sake of destiny? Some abstract cause that you don’t even see the full picture of?”
He laughs, but there’s no humor behind it, grabbing at your neck and squeezing, your hands flying down to his wrists immediately to resist.
“Maybe I enjoy it. Hm? You ever thought about that? Sure, if you’ve lived as long as I have, the killing starts to feel more like a chore. But taking a scared little girl and forcing her into bed with me? Well,” he growls in your ear, “maybe I get off on it.”
He releases you, letting you cough and taking in big gulps of air. He licks a stripe up your neck and over your lips, lets his teeth nibble against your jawline as he grips the back of your neck and manoeuvres your robe off to reveal your stomach, large hands splaying over the expanse of exposed skin.
“Besides, that’s not a nice way to treat someone doing you a favor, is it?” He grips you by the jaw, forcing you to look straight into his glowing eyes.
“I could just cum inside of you and be done with this,” he speaks through gritted teeth, his gaze following down the line of your body and back up. “So, you get one more chance to be good. No more tryna kill me, you’re just gonna lie back and let me take care of you. Answer me back, doll.”
You nod as much as you can with your cheeks mushed by his fingers.
“No more misbehavior. I’m being nice, darlin’. You get that? I’m preparing you.” He presses the length of his body against yours, your eyes widening as you feel his large member pressing against the seam of his pants, right against your core.
He smirks at your reaction. “Yeah. You get it now, don’t you, baby?” His teeth scrape against your earlobe as his breath ghosts over your ear. “If I made you take me without preparing you, you wouldn’t walk for days.”
You want to roll your eyes, to quip back, to tell him to fuck off, but then he’s stripping you of your bra, his mouth closing over your nipple, long fingers trailing over your thighs and towards your clothed core.
And all you can think, is that it’s better than the dreams you’ve had of him.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. How he licks at the underside of your breast, leaving bite marks at your cleavage, sucking at your nipples. How he teases his fingertips over your clothed core until the fabric sticks to you, nail trailing around your clit, thumb flitting just over and under the edge of your panties.
The way you can’t help but arch your back into him is telling at best and pathetic at worst.
“Already weak for me?” he chuckles darkly, pulling down your panties with a low whistle at the mess you’ve made.
“Has it been a while, princess?” he kisses your hip, lets his tongue trail over just so you can imagine what it’d be like to have his mouth on you. He knows how long they’ve kept you here under close watch, and yet he has the nerve to comment on it.
But he’s right, and you realize just how right he is when he drags his fingertips through your folds.
And it’s in this hazy, lust-filled moment that you figure if you’re going to be bred like an animal in this room to create the heir of destiny, you might as well get something out of it, willingly receive the pleasure you’re given, especially as his breath catches over your core, his nose digging into your inner thigh.
He watches as your shoulders go lax and your thighs tense. “Mm, that’s right, baby. You just relax and let me take care of you, hmm?” He laps at your inner thigh, coating it with saliva like he’s claiming you, you might think you find it almost disgusting if he didn’t match it with a long lick right at your core, from your entrance all the way up your clit.
Your response is immediate, your nails digging into the bedsheets below you as he chuckles, his hair and fringe tickling your thighs as he wraps his arms around each of your legs, holding you steady as he trails his tongue in a zig-zag motion over your core. He teases you every time, getting slower before he laps over your clit and then starting again from the bottom, until your bottom lip wobbles and your hips buck into his face, unable to contain how badly you want his tongue.
When you look down and make eye contact with him, you see his crazed eyes darkened. You almost feel scared to ask, scared to make requests when his tongue purposefully caves into your core.
He chuckles as he watches you weigh the options in your fogged mind, whether your desperation is worth risking the sight of him materializing his cracked sword. He teases you again, teeth grazing against the edge of your folds, circling wide around your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, spiralling towards the centre only to purposefully avoid it again. Your chest rises, heartbeat loud in your chest, unable to contain the whine that escapes you.
“I-,” you try despite your fear, only for the words to be choked in your throat as he laps another circle around your clit.
“Got something to say, little one?” You can feel his lips moving over your core as he speaks, tonguing your entrance.
“W-Wanna- please-”
“Mm, can’t decide if I like you better when you’re begging or when you’re trying to kill me.”
 Oh, so he’s got jokes. You almost want to smack him as he laughs, but he interrupts you.
“Beg for it more.”
He slides a finger into you, so much longer and thicker than your own, as you babble something that sounds like “please, Blade, please, please”. He finally grazes his tongue over your clit once, twice, your back arching as he takes the opportunity to slide another finger into you.
“You gonna beg the same way for my cock, darling?” He crooks his fingers towards himself to press against your spongy walls, your wetness leaking down and coating his hand. “Answer me when I ask a question, doll. Don’t make me tell you again.”
“Yes, fuck, Blade- gonna- gonna beg for your cock, ah, please, I wanna-” he decides that’s as good as it gets, bringing your clit between his lips and suckling over. Your hands grip the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white, your hips bucking into his face uncontrollably as the pleasure builds.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Go ahead and cum for me,” his words are muffled against your heat, his shoulders keeping your thighs open even as they twitch and squeeze around him. He laps at your clit between suckles, fingers hitting your g-spot with every slide in, and you cum hard over his face and around his fingers. Your slick coats his tongue, your walls shaking with each wave, mouth open in a silent scream, mind fogged and empty except for the feel of him and the warm muscle of his tongue as he works you through it. It feels endless as your clit trembles in his mouth, your heartbeat loud and your breath harsh.
You come down with your chest still heaving, his tongue slowing down over you until you instinctively try to move away from him because of the sensitivity. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin over his face.
“Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Now,” he kneels back onto the bed, expanse of his chest visible, spreading your legs wide to fit his body between them. “We came to an agreement earlier, didn’t we? What did we say you’d do?”
“B-Beg for your cock…” you whisper it softly, demure even though he just had you thrashing over his face.
“Mhmm. So tell me, darling, what do you want?”
“W-Want you… want your cock-”
“More.”
“I- Blade,” you whine, “I want your cock inside of me. Is- is that what you-”
“Yeah, baby. I want you wet and sticky between your legs, begging for my cock despite the circumstances. That’s exactly what I want.”
He watches you, you let him watch you, as he unbuckles his belt with a click, letting it fall to the floor somewhere. You watch as his eyes skate down your form, his chest puffed and breathing deep, his pants pulling down to reveal more of his muscled torso and Adonis belt.
He’s stunning, you’re sure anyone would think so, there’s a small, self-sacrificial part of you that thinks you might even be lucky that in these unfortunate circumstances, such a beautiful man is the one taking you. But in his mind, nothing beats the way your eyes widen as his underwear falls to the floor to reveal his cock, both thick and long, the mushroom tip enlarged. You’re not sure if it’s fear or arousal that seeps into your veins as you back yourself up on the bed with your elbows, only for him to grab you by your thighs and drag you back towards him.
“Ah, ah. Where do you think you’re running, hm?” He pulls your legs up so his large hands can wrap around the back of each of your thighs, pushing your knees wide open and towards your chest.
Only when his hair tickles your ear, his breath ghosting over your neck, do you begin to reach under the mattress and towards the headboard. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s futile, that it’s a bad idea. He had been so nice to you, hadn’t he? Is this self-survival, or self-destruction?
You can almost pretend it’s in ecstasy, in anticipation of having his cock inside of you, as you draw a knife out and whisk it towards him.
The slap of his palm against your wrist happens so fast you don’t even process it until you hear him tsk, his fingers squeezing you so tightly until your hand opens up, metal clanging onto the floor as you let out a sob.
“And I had been so nice to you.” His voice drops an octave, a condescending, disappointed look is on his face as he stands back up, the kind that makes you want to bite back at him. The words never make it out, your mouth dry as he moves faster than you can blink to pick up his belt, the loud whip of it slapping against his palm making you flinch.
It’s in this moment that you remember what they called him, what Kafka called him. The greatest weapon destiny has ever forged.
“Blade, wait-” You try to use what little empathy he might’ve had for you before you had gone and done what you did, but it’s no use.
He laughs sadistically. “Wait?” He slaps the belt against the back of your thigh, your hands not moving in time to protect yourself, instead you wince as your fingertips tap against the now-welted skin.
“I did everything right, didn’t I? Talked to you, brought you your meals, ate you out until you came over my mouth.” Another whip rings out in the room against the back of your other thigh, making you yelp in agony.
“And yet, how do you repay me, hm?” He climbs over you, lightning fast, one hand gripping your chin and cheeks, mushing them, forcing you to look at him.
“Stupid girl,” he spits the words in your face. “You should’ve been grateful that I had been so kind.”
He whips you a third time over your core as you cry out, his face uncaring as tears start to drip down your cheeks. He grabs both of your wrists with one hand, looping his belt around them and between the intricate woodwork of the headboard, pulling until the leather is tight and clasping it together.
“I’ll tell you what, girl,” his hand wraps around your neck, not clasping down but the threat is there all the same, his thumb caressing over. “It was a good effort you made, I’ll give you that. But I could detect your micromovements of aggression from a mile away.” He squeezes your neck a little harder, listening to you gasp and choke under him. “You could never have won against me.”
After weeks of being patient, he finally, finally, gets to sink his cock into you. He jerks in his own hand at the thought, the blunt tip pressing against your entrance, surprised to find you even more slick than before. His hands resume where they were before, grabbing where your skin has turned raw from his abuse.
“Now, you’re gonna lie there all pretty and pliant like you’re meant to, and I’m gonna do my job. And you’re gonna thank me for fucking you slow, even though you don’t deserve it, because I wanna take in every inch of this pussy like I was promised.”
He bullies the first inch his cock into you with a satisfied smile, watches with greedy, perverted eyes as your slick already starts to coat and drip down his cock. He feels the way the ring of muscle restricts as he slides the second inch in.
“So fucking tight,” he groans. Your walls clamp down around him, almost like they’re stopping him from pushing in anymore, but he forces himself in anyways. You try to push him off with your legs, try to tell him that you’re “so full, so much,” but all he does is huff with a smile.
He feels his tip hit against your cervix, his balls slapping against your ass, and lets out a satisfied sigh. You think he’s done until his arms tense again, pressing in deeper again, an extra few centimetres shifting into you, even as you cry and sob that it’s too much and too big, until you swear your cervix opens up a little just for him to fill that space.
He’s so thick and hard inside you that you feel like you can’t breathe, the pressure so high inside of you that can’t even properly squeeze your walls around him. The feeling is suffocating, your wrists straining against his belt.
“Got you all prepped and ready for me, pretty thing,” he pulls out of you almost entirely, your cunt already feeling empty, before slamming back in hard. Your whole body jolts against the bed, he fills every part inside of you, the tip of his member pushing against your cervix again, making you see stars behind your eyelids.
“Now you’re gonna take me like you’re meant to, like you’re made to.” He pounds into you over and over again, your hands flat against the headboard as it shakes with each thrust. “And I’m gonna cum inside you, doll, just like I promised. And we’re gonna do this night after night, until your pussy moulds into the shape of my cock.”
He groans, pressing your knees down with his heavy body weight, until you’re almost chest-to-chest, his head draped beside yours. “Gonna cum deep inside of you, load after load, until you’re filled to the brim. Never gonna use my own hands again when this sweet cunt is just down the hall. My personal fucking cocksleeve.” Your mind goes blank with every thrust that hits deep inside of you, whines and moans leaving you, your breath catching with every kiss the tip makes with your cervix.
“You’re gonna go to sleep every night with my cum inside of you, wake up every morning to it still sticky between your thighs.” You swear he’s gone insane. When you turn to look at him, his eyes are wild, almost feral and destructive. But he’s watching his cock slide in and out of you, the frothy ring that forms at the base of his cock, the sight of it making some animalistic urge inside of him come out to scream to him that you’re his.
“You take me so well, doll. Shh, yes, baby, I know it feels good.” He doesn’t care anymore. The whole heir of destiny shit is at the back of his mind compared to the way your pussy feels squeezing around him.
“But y’know, baby,” he hisses through his teeth, “You cumming isn’t particularly necessary.” The whine that you elicit at hearing that makes him smile, you’re so adorable that he kisses your cheek. “Maybe that’ll be your punishment, hm? If ya really wanna cum, you’re gonna have to beg me for it.”
You pull on your restraints uselessly. “Please, Blade, please make me cum. I wanna cum, fuck, you’re so big.”
It’s clear to Blade that you’re not in your right mind by the way your eyes are glazed over, body limp aside from the way your thighs tighten around him, whimpering pleads and apologies and his name.
“Got nothing but cock in your brain, don’t ‘cha? Just a hole, made to be bred. That what you are? A pretty girl made for me to cum inside?”
You pant yes into his ear, you don’t know anything except how much you need him. Need for him to touch you, to let you cum, to fuck you.
“Say it then, my pretty girl. Say you want my cum.”
Your words feel foreign in your own ears the minute they come out of your mouth, you can’t believe for a minute what you’re saying but you decide you don’t care either.
“W-Want your cum, Blade.”
Your voice is meek, soft in comparison to the slap of skin as he fucks you harder, deeper. Nothing makes Blade happier than breaking a pretty girl to beg for his cum.
“Mm, good girl. You can be good after all, can’t you?” He brings his hand down between your legs, brushing over where you’re both connected to right at the base, picking up the slick that still continues to drip down your crack. He brings it up to your clit, grazes it with his thumb, and your reaction is instant, whining so loudly it borders on a scream. You swear you see stars at the feeling of your clit and cervix being stimulated all at once, again and again until you start to clench down hard and uncontrollably around him.
“Shit, fuck, baby, you gotta let me in-” Blade forces his cock into you despite it, hips snapping against yours. You’re so far gone, uncaring of the way your body thrashes against his, mind empty except for the way his cock fills you up over and over again.
“Yeah, fuck yeah. You gonna cum, baby? Ah, fuck. You’re gonna take my cum, take it all when I cum deep inside of you. Go ahead, pretty, go on and come for me.”
You don’t know if he’s somehow brainwashed you but his words are like a command that your body instinctively knows to follow, your thighs tightening, head falling back, your walls squeezing his cock impossibly tighter until your body jerks and you’re cumming. Your hands grip on your restraints tight, back arching and heartbeat loud in your chest and ears as he works you through it, his fingers never ceasing over your clit. You feel the way Blade’s tempo starts to falter, the beautiful groan he makes as he thrusts as deep as he can go once, twice, and then his warm seed spills inside of you, coating your walls and womb white, filling you up.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, baby.” He overstimulates you both, fucking his cock in one more time with a hiss and another thrum of his thumb over your clit that has you trying to reel back just a little from him, even in your tired state, your walls still shaking with aftershocks.
He pulls out of you incredibly slowly, as if he’s careful to leave all of his fluids inside of you. He plugs your whole with his thumb as soon as he pulls out, but it only stops the inevitable from happening for a few seconds before his cum starts to spill out past it.
“You- you came so much,” you’re not sure if you exclaim it in wonder or horror, realizing what you had both just done.
He smirks. “Yeah, baby. And you’re gonna keep it inside of you for me, mmkay?” He plays with the cum that drips out of your hole, coating his fingers with it before pushing it back inside of you.
“This pussy’s mine now.” 
-
The aftercare is a blur in your almost passed-out state. Blade picks up your lace panties and rides them back up your legs for you, to “keep his cum inside of you” and then says something about getting a plug. He makes you drink water, bringing a glass with a straw to you. The last thing you remember is him undoing your wrists of his belt before falling asleep.
As he lies next to you, Blade’s own voice echoes through his mind. Just a hole, made to be bred.
He knows you’ll likely take it as something he said in the moment. Well, it doesn’t really matter how you take it. But he realizes, it’s the first time he’s ever lied to you.
As cruel as Blade is, he believes in honesty. Maybe that’s the cruellest part about him.
But even as he lies next to your passed-out figure in bed, applying tincture to your wrists with such gentleness he’d never reveal to you in your waking state… He can feel the power that surges through you.
He presses his palm just under where your diaphragm would be, where the power is the strongest. Even in its unawakened state, even to Blade himself who is only half-awakened, remembering just parts of his past lives, even he can feel it. The way the power courses in waves, pulsing inside of you like a second heartbeat.
--
A/N: it’s a miracle this fic didn’t have a daddy kink in it but the next blade fic i write definitely will LMAOO
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alfredosauce50 · 7 months
Text
Yandere Denmark headcanons
Ruthless, ambitious, and with a mind for expansion, it’s no wonder he always finds himself in positions of political power. But like all men, he has desires of the flesh, the longing for real connection. He comes onto you as an ordinary man, and you love him as one.
What you don’t know, is that he’s the king. When you learn the truth, you pull away fearing for your own safety. But he holds onto all the tighter. With the nation obeying his every whim and every pair of eyes and ears working for him, he’s impossible to escape.
Content warning: Sex, violence, and dubious consent. R18+ only.
The nobleman
Mathias commands respect everywhere he goes. As one of the most powerful men in the ancient world, he has a potent presence that causes the whole energy of a room to change if he were to enter it. But he also likes to blend in when he can. He will dress down to avoid standing out, even if it’s still in clothes for those in the top percentile.
He often leaves the palace grounds to visit the city in person. Whether it’s for leisure or to see how his kingdom is doing, he insists on doing it without protection. And when people recognize his face as the same one on the back of their coins, he gives a reassuring smile as they talk excitedly amongst themselves. The King is here!
Chinese silk, richly dyed clothing, and the most exotic Arabian perfume. They’re everything you notice about Mathias when you serve him at your diner. A member of the ruling class, you think. But that’s all. The last thing you’d expect is for the king himself to show up in this humble establishment, fitting in like everybody else.
“Tell me, eskler,” He begins, watching you set down his meal in front of him. Lamb shank, mash, and the soup of the day. A hearty meal to go with the homey atmosphere. “What do you think about the king?”
“I don’t know,” You lift your gaze to him thoughtfully. Without batting an eye, you tell him the words he didn’t know he needed to hear, and would, in turn, change his life forever. “I’ve never met him.”
He’s taken aback by your response, but it draws him in like no other. There’s people who don’t care for politics, and then there’s you. Someone who’s never even seen him before. And so long as he keeps his identity a secret, he’ll be treated as an equal. It’s nowhere near the treatment fit for a king, but somehow, he can’t get enough.
Mathias asks you out for dinner. You reject him the first time, and understandably so. You don’t wanna accidentally become a part of his harem, or whatever it is the elites are doing these days. However, you eventually have a change of heart when you keep seeing him in your diner. Not to pester you about a date, but only to eat and chat.
“Seeing that you’re more polite than any other man I’ve met, I’ll take you up on your offer,” You tell him.
“Really?”
“What, did you have higher expectations for men?”
“No, that’s why I’m surprised you would say yes,” Mathias explains, following you with his eyes as you clear up the last remaining tables. He eventually stands up to ask this. “What makes me so different?”
The truth is, you sense that he’s a good person, and he’s shocked when you tell him. He tries to see himself in your eyes, and in turn, discovers a whole new side. Thanks to your willingness to engage with him on his level, he gets in touch with the more vulnerable parts of his character. He drops his guard, and feels strangely human.
He starts seeing you in secret. The moment he gets the chance, he disappears from the palace and makes a discrete trip to your home. His alibi? The same thing he’s been doing the whole time. He’ll always show up with flowers and other gifts, but more importantly, an empty stomach, having developed an appetite for your simple cooking.
“So, what are we having for dinner today?” He rubs his hands expectantly as he peers over your shoulder.
“Pickled fish,” You hum.
“Can I help?” He lights up, rolling his sleeves.
“You can help me by staying out of the kitchen.”
He’s very playful. Rolling around with you in the grass, pretending to bite you like a frenzied dog, it’s a timeless romance that transcends the ages. He can play with you like a child but love you like a woman, so being with him feels like a dream. His presence is just so fulfilling you can’t imagine asking for more, but he just keeps surprising you.
He spoils you. His generosity is magnanimous, pampering you with jewelry, dresses, homeware, and everything you could ever need, and more. Mathias imagines himself to be the solution to all your problems, and takes great pride in using his privilege to help you. Little does he know, it’s the one thing that drives a wedge between you both.
“This is really nice and all, but—”
Mathias is taking you to store after store, fishing out anything he thinks would look good on you. And he isn’t picky, or shy, for that matter. He will watch your silhouette behind the paper screen until you finish.
“—this is a bit much, don’t you think?” You appear from the side of the screen in a revealing jade dress, cheeks flushed. “I don’t need all these things, and besides, I could never pay you back if I tried.”
“Why would you pay me back?” He questions.
“I’m just saying,” You reply, sliding your hands in his. “It always feels like we’re from different worlds, Mat.”
He takes that statement personally and becomes cautious about protecting his identity. You hold him to a high enough regard already, and he’s only revealed so much — that he’s an aristocrat. Even then, you’re still wary of the class difference that sets you two apart. Mathias is destined for greatness, but this is all you’ll ever be. Imagine how you’d react if you found out he was the king.
He’s afraid that he’ll scare you off. All rulers have blood on their hands, a ruthlessness that evades the ordinary man. You would be heartbroken if Mathias were anything of such, and he knows. He only wants you to see him as the person he is when he’s with you. Kind, gentle, and passionate. You make feel like a man, and when he feels like a man, it fills him with a carnal sense of purpose.
He’s sensual at heart, so he can’t go without it. Not without you, or the intoxicating completion you give him. So when you start pulling away, he’ll feel the whips of panic because a part of him is slipping away. Every interaction you have with him will become emotionally charged. Mathias chases you like crazy, but you withhold from him, causing him to have frequent bursts of passion.
“I thought we talked about this—”
“—No, I thought we talked about this. You said you loved me, and now you’re not gonna marry me?” Mathias sits up out of alarm, then stares at you like you just betrayed him, because to him, you have.
When you argue
There’s no arguing with Mathias. When he wants it his way, he’ll eventually get it. And in that same breath, you can never stay mad at him, allowing for a vicious cycle that never ends. Something about him just gets you to forgive him before he even does anything. It doesn’t matter what the argument is about, or how bad it gets, because it’s guaranteed you’ll be kissing him by nightfall, and he’ll be making love to you until sunrise.
“What’s makes us so different to each other?”
“You know why,” You rub the tears from your eyes as you rush down the stairs. “I’m not your equal. I don’t have money, I can barely read, and I don’t know anything about the things that are important to you!”
“Those are trivial things! And they’re nothing I can’t give or teach you!” He runs in front of you, talking excitedly. And he believes in every word he speaks. “The fact that we’re arguing makes us equals!”
No matter how outlandish.
“It doesn’t work that way, Mathias!”
He uses sex to his advantage. You know touch is his love language, so it becomes hard to resist, especially after a bad fight. The tension calls for a hard release of it, which he does through a hot and raw pounding. It gives him the safety and reassurance that you will always love him, and he’s addicted to it like a drug. Don’t be surprised that he starts picking fights just for the sake of it.
“I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He pants over you, moving his pelvis back and forth in fluid thrusts.
“You wouldn’t dare,” You breathe under him.
“I would,” Mathias speeds up to a pace that gets his face to contort from a pleasure so good, it looked like he was in pain. He was going so hard and deep, his orgasm came in seconds, arriving in strong jets that fills you to the brim. And he’s not letting you go until every last drop of it is pumped into your womb.
He wrecks boundaries and shatters your mind in the process. He can’t handle distance, let alone tension, and will force his way into your world. You can’t help but let him, too helplessly in love with his smile and memory. He seems nurturing and giving, when really, he takes just as much, and if not, more. You don’t always realize that, and lose yourself as well as your ability to say no.
The King
He has a fierce intelligence that intimidates. Not only does he have one of the greatest military minds of all time, there is no taking advantage of him in political exchanges. He can read anyone with a single glance, then find a way to get out on top. It’s all in his slick grin, which goes away in an instant. Making it obvious he’s hiding his amusement is just how he mocks his enemies.
Mathias is above the system. He doesn’t abide by existing power or religious structures if he thinks they’re useless. Sailing west into an open ocean, guiding his people to enlightenment and discovery. Questioning rulers, then going so far as to overthrow them. He’s a dark horse when it comes to challenging the natural order, a master of annexation, a force to be reckoned with.
He treats those below him with respect. He will look anyone in the eye to speak to them on their level, no matter who. He’s not pretentious at all, but very understanding of people from all walks of life. Kind to the poor, merciless to the rich. Civilians are cared for by their king and love him for it, but the same can’t be said for high society. Not that they have anything to say about it.
Mathias is uncensored to violence. He wouldn’t bat an eye at the inside of someone’s skull, heads rolling, or spilled guts. As a king, he’s seen it all. He fights with his men like the God of war for all his incorruptible dreams, so every battle serves a divine purpose. If it means he can give his people a better life, give you a better life, he would gladly take it away all the same without hesitation.
And yet, when you come around, his invincibility, sharpness, everything that makes him ruthless, goes away instantly. That impenetrable exterior his enemies work tirelessly to get past, is broken. He returns to who he is at his core, a kind, gentle, and curious man because you see him as such. Being with you is like rising to the surface and taking a breath for the first time, constantly.
For this, he can never stop thinking about you. Every waking hour of the day, you’re on his mind. With the rush of politics and warfare, all he wants is to drown in your love, beauty, and femininity. You are the light to the darkness that pervades the world, your presence a sacred haven in all the chaos. It’s no wonder the world is made for two, because he can’t understand it without you.
That’s why he’s such an intense lover. Mathias will show up to your doorstep uninvited and beg for your attention like he’s starving for it, because there’s no other way to describe such a feeling. Whether it’s through talking, touching, or kissing, the way he looks at you is how all girls want to be looked at — a look with so much love, you can hardly return it. But he makes you every time.
He can stay calm even in times of conflict and crises. He knows when he’s in control, and this has served him well for many years. But if he does lose his head, it’s when you’re caught in the crossfire. He will do anything to keep you safe, even if he has to sacrifice thousands of others. He wouldn’t just go to war for you like other men, he would wage them. Start them. Finish them.
His dedication is the stuff of myths and legends, because if it came down to it, he would venture to the depths of the underworld to rescue you from the dead. Slay monsters to prove his worth. Challenge Gods. Nothing is bigger than his love for you, and he’ll make the whole world feel it. What he has with you is for the history books, epics, and sagas, but he’d prefer privacy over all.
You are his only weakness, so if someone caught wind of the king’s secret lover, everything would be over. Unfortunately, he gets too carried away by going to your home too often. To protect you, he has no choice but to reveal his identity and take you back to the palace. Dressed up in his most extravagant robes, he knocks on your door with a band of soldiers surrounding the property.
When you answer, the first thing you see is Mathias in his crown, and behind him, the royal guard. Your heart sinks as everything clicks. Why he was always so secretive, why he was always so adamant that you were his equal, his other half. Why the court advisors bowed before him despite being the highest ranking officials in the state, because he was above everyone and everything, all except for the Gods themselves.
“Let me explain.” He tells you, brows raised.
“I knew it,” You utter, slamming the door in his face. But nobody simply shuts out the king, not even you. That reality sinks in as he stays outside your home, asserting he has no intention to leave without you.
The honeymoon
The first week is the toughest. You feel betrayed and overwhelmed by who Mathias is, so you refuse to see him. He’s very understanding at first, and prepares a separate room just for you. It’s fully furnished, lavishly decorated, and filled with everything you’ve ever laid your eyes on. He’s been thinking of you all this time, yearning to be with you, but you have yet to give in. This isn’t the man you thought you knew, and yet, some part of you always suspected he’d turn out this way. He seemed too good to be true, and he was. After all, every force has an equal and opposite reaction, where his love for you alone goes head to head with his ruthlessness.
He tries to find you around the palace, which is perfect for when you eventually get cabin fever. You roam the palace grounds out of curiosity, even joining some of the servants in the kitchen. Mathias would never show up in a place like that, and that serves you well for a few days. You feel like yourself again and all is well, that is, until you run into him in the orchard, picking apples for himself. It’s the second time you’ve made the crucial mistake of thinking of him as any other king when he isn’t. No chore is too low for him to do, no place too filthy for him to be. You both stare at each other, eyes wide. Without a single word exchanged, you turn around and run off.
“Will you at least have dinner with me?” He calls out to you, watching your back grow smaller and smaller.
“I’m quite fine, thank you.”
“Please?” Mathias softens his voice. “I miss you.”
You can’t resist him, especially when he talks and looks at you like that. The man you thought you knew is still in there, and it sucks you in like a rip. You join him in the dining hall and have a meal together, even if it’s a silent one. You’re keen on leaving right after, but he’s quick to notice that. He’s never wrong when it comes to reading your body language, even when you were being subtle about it. Turns out, with him, nothing is subtle. He catches you before you get far, grabbing your hand and pulling you back. “I’m still the same person you love, so will you just stay with me?”
Mathias is sneaky. He’s really good at reeling you in and letting you think you’re pushing him away. And he gets closer the more he keeps doing it. He knows exactly what he’s doing, while looking like he doesn’t. His innocent act is more effective than you’re led on to believe, because you fall for it every time. Every interaction with him has a catch, just like the dinner that came with a stroll. And now, you’re in his bed a week after telling him you want to sleep separately. You only realize your mistake three nights in, curled up tightly in his arms, staring up at his tired, smiling face.
“What am I gonna do with you?” You whisper.
“The same thing you’ve always done.” He answers.
He’s comfortable in his natural state. Mathias has the body of a warrior, his skin scarred by all the blades that have touched him. Otherwise, he’s an impressive specimen produced from years of battle and good genes. Large, muscular, and well-endowed. If the weather allows for it, he’ll relax in the bedroom buck naked, and talk to you as casually as he would with clothes on. He doesn’t feel any shame or embarrassment when he’s so familiar with you. He can also work up quite a stink, so he makes it a point to chase you around for a hug. And he catches you every time.
He expects you to join him for breakfast and dinner everyday. Mathias has a lot of business to attend to in between, but wants you to be the first and last thing he sees. Waking up and falling asleep beside you isn’t enough. He also insists on taking all his baths with you, so you ought to get used to being naked around him. He’s the type to stare, and so much that it’s embarrassing, but he always makes sure to remind you how beautiful you are. He may be a handful, but he just wants you to be as comfortable around him as you can so you both can be like two peas in a pod.
“It’s not like I haven’t already seen every inch of you, so don’t be shy,” He wades over to you in the pool.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t stop refreshing your memory.” You splash his face, cackling. “Have some manners!”
He tutors you. Granted, it took a lot of convincing on your end, but you can’t deny that you want to be closer to him, and this is how. He teaches you all about his duties, as well as math, science, and literacy. You didn’t go to school, but he wants to involve you in official business as you’ll be his most trusted partner in the future. And if he sends letters, you need to be able to read them. He’s been elevating you this whole time, hoping that you gain the confidence to stand by his side one day. And when that day comes, he’ll propose to you in a way that feels so natural, you won’t hesitate to accept. If you see him smiling at you over nothing, that’s what he’s thinking about. You’re going to be this nation’s most beloved queen one day, and he can’t wait for it to come.
The night of your wedding, he will carry you to his chambers to consummate it. He doesn’t think of it as a duty wherein he needs to produce heirs, but something he’s been wanting to do for ages. Starting a family with you, if he didn’t already get you pregnant from all the unprotected sex he’s been having with you for months. But tradition is tradition, and there won’t be another opportunity as romantic as this. You’ll be ravished all night, taking him until your insides ache and you get sick of his taste. He has a penchant for all kinds of sex, but combined with his ox-like stamina and insatiable appetite, he could go at it forever.
Mathias would want to reincarnate by your side, finding you again and again in endless rebirths. In the dark ages where life is short and death is always near, having you just once isn’t enough. So after conquering the mortal world and making it perfect for you, he will search for answers to the question that needs answering. What comes after death, and if you’ll be there, waiting for him. It’s strange. He has dreams of having different lives, each more vivid than the last. Sometimes a dashing prince, other times, a champion boxer. He doesn’t understand what he experiences, but the thing about dreams is that they always make sense when he’s in them. So maybe, it’ll come to him one day, even if it’s thousands of years later.
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Can you write yandere poly volturi kings and soulmate reader ? Please
ofc anon <3
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I'm getting a slight feeling my volturi works are popular lol. Since these all tie in together I'm just gonna do them in one longer post <3
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Aro Volturi
aro is an obsessive yandere. he isn't the worst of the kings to get but isn't the best either.
he will keep you at his side at all times, in bed or in the throne room with you beside his throne, he wont ever let you have a moment without him.
he wont give you the choice of mortal or immortal he will turn you upon meeting. after all you'll be his forever so names and dates can happen later.
he wont allow anyone besides those he trusts near you, and anyone else who dares try to speak to you will die.
you'll never escape him, he practically has the entire volturi guarding you so theres no chance of ever leaving him.
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Caius Volturi
of the three kings, Caius is the worst to get, both as a soulmate and yandere.
Don't get me wrong he will still love you and give you subtle affection but nowhere near as much as the other two.
he would keep you close, practically locked away in a room for his eyes only in fear of you running away or someone stealing you.
like aro, if he ever saw anyone who he did not approve of you talking to then he will not hesitate to tear them apart, even if you're standing there.
if you ever by miracle managed to escape from him expect that you will lose any bit of freedom when he catches you. because he will lock you away.
you will not be given a choice to turn or not. he will turn you and you will accept it or he will lock you away until you do.
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Marcus volturi
he would be the best of the kings to have as your soulmate and yandere.
he would never lay a finger on you to hurt you, the worst punishment he will ever give you is forced affection.
he will turn you, but he would be gentle about it, apologizing the entire time and talking of how he had to turn you so that he wouldn't lose you.
he will spoil you, giving you presents like jewelry and books. he would give you the world if you asked for it, he just wants to see his mate happy.
it would break him if you ever escaped, he would be so hurt that after all he did you left him.
of course he wouldn't let you leave for long, he would send Felix or Demetri to return you. and once back he wont punish you, he'll just claim that he hasnt been giving you enough love and that hes not angry for you leaving. after of course chaining your leg to the bed so you cant do it again.
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Poly volturi
if you had all three of the kings as yandere's and soulmates then you are never seeing the light of day or anything out of the castle again.
they are obsessive and impossible to escape on their own but together you'll never be without at least one of them.
aro and Caius will ensure that no one besides them talks to you, while marcus try's to convince them not to kill anyone who does.
you will be turned by them, no matter what you will. just hope that its marcus or aro who does it because caius will be quite rough while doing it.
they will of course become jealous of each other, marcus is the nicest so the other two will be jealous of how you lean to him more. aro keeps you by his side most of the time and the others get jealous over him spending the most time with you. caius is the type to lock you in his room and keep you to himself for however long he pleases which causes anger more then jealousy in the others.
youre not escaping, there is no way that you can manage to escape them unless you have some insane gift that can fight off the entire volturi.
you're theirs for all eternity it doesn't matter if theyre together or separate you will not escape them.
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