#yandere omen

[plushienanami]

Hello hello! Could I request headcannons for yandere chamber, sova, Omen, and Brimstone with a gn s/o who knows about their antics and Are you trying to escape them? I say, as if I'm trying to get out of protocol (Thank you so much for reading this and sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language )

Hi everyone! I know it’s been awhile and I’ve been gone so long. I took writers block to a whole new level. This last year sm has happened but to be honest I want to write again and use this as a creative outlet! I hope you enjoy, love you all 🤍

You knew that staying in Protocol was a gamble, never knowing if you were going to come back in one piece or even alive at all. It didn’t help when one particular agent made your time in the special covert operations organization an almost living hell. Even if the fate of the world was on Protocols backs, it was time to leave while you could…or at least that is what you thought.

CHAMBER: 

Before you even began thinking of leaving Protocol, he already knew what was going to happen. It totally wasn’t how uncomfortable he made you when he would constantly flirt with you on missions <3

He wouldn’t talk to you about the matter, actually doesn’t address it all only with small quips and remarks that make you question whether he knows your plan or not. 

Chamber isn’t Brimstone, he doesn’t have the power and control that the head leader holds. Although that doesn’t mean he is totally powerless, this man has money and status that he most certainly utilizes.

He is a shady man, a con man if you really want to put a label on it considering what he did to Fracture, manipulating and lying to get what he wants. Under protocol he doesn’t have control over you, so he would definitely let you have your “temper tantrum” before he would take any immediate reaction.

He wants you to feel as if you have the upper hand, as if you won. 

Now with you being out of Protocol and not under constant surveillance leaving in the base, he can do as he pleases. 

Opening the door to your flat, you are greeted with the familiar darkness you see everytime you return from your work shifts. Taking off your outer coat you hang it on the coat rack beside the door, taking the time to sleep off your shoes about to turn on the lights. You never consider yourself paranoid, yet the eerie feeling of not being alone began to send a chill down your spine. The room was still dark, silence filled the air as you listened for any noise that would indicate that something was there. Slowly your hand made its way to the light switch, flipping the small white knub up as the lights blasted on. To your horror the last person you wanted to see sat there in the burgundy velvet wingback chair in the living room. The slick back hair, chunky yet expensive glasses frames, that blue silky waistcoat that cost more than the rent you paid, Chamber. Vincent Fabron. “Bonsoir mon chéri. What a nice residence you have…quite old fashioned for my taste, non?” He finally spoke, his signature card in hand as he toyed around with it. “You left so suddenly, not even a goodbye? How inconsiderate considering how close we were.” He rose from his seated position in the chair, stalking forward towards your frozen stature. His eyes remained focused on yours, an unreadable emotion as he continued forth before stopping in front of you. The coy grin he wore on his face as he gazed at your fearful expression with delight. With a small snap the card disappeared from his hands, the golden tattoos lighting up as the object retreated. He stood posed, staring down at you as a wolf to a sheep. “Your little game is over chéri…let us be off.” SOVA:

He always had been doting, trying to accommodate you and make sure that your time at Protocol is pleasant considering what all you have to go through to keep global peace.

He would start to see the hesitance in your eyes, the inner turmoil and battle you had with yourself when things would go awry (totally not around him).

As you resign filling out paperwork to Brimstone who was sad to see you go yet understood where you were coming from, Sova would come across you and Brim. He saw you walk into his office, and concerned he followed. It didn’t take him long to notice the paperwork that laid in front of you, pen in hand. 

Sova, who is always a calm and collected person doesn’t say much yet stands there with that composed expression on his face. Yet if you looked hard enough you could see the way his artificial eye glowed brighter as his jaw clenched.

He would ask to speak to you, nodding his head at Brim who didn’t expect a thing considering how highly regarded Sova is and how much of a good ally he was to him. He would have to settle this himself. 

An unsettling feeling made its way to your gut as you stood up and followed Sova out. The further you walked away from Brim and closer to the door, the more you could feel your freedom slipping from your grasps. The mechanical door slid open allowing you to make your way to Sova who stood down the hallway, a hardened look on his face. He never was this scary, kind and clingy…not like this. Standing in front of him, you looked and finally realized how much bigger he was than you. “Why are you leaving?” He asked, plain and simple. “I-...uh…” You stammered, the words you wanted to say were gone and now incomprehensible. “You do realize that if you leave, you would be in so much danger.” He spoke in a concerned manner, although at this moment you didn’t know it was a mask to cover up his ulterior motives. “If you leave, who knows what could happen to you. You wouldn’t be protected…who knows what your other self could do when omega earth realizes you are no longer with us anymore?” Desperation filled his voice as it wavered in worry. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more guilt you felt. He cares about you, worries about you and this is what you do in return? All he’s ever done was insure your safety and that’s what you’re worried about? “You’re right…I don’t know what I was thinking, thank you Sova.” 

OMEN:

Even though he is the sweetest ever, he is still eery in his own way. Ominous. He isn’t much of a talker and if so he says stuff you can never wrap your mind around. 

He lingers around you, whichever room you're in he somehow is there, cutting his bonsai tree or knitting to remain calm. His presence is one you can’t shake yet it still is uncomfortable when you two are hardly friends.

Deciding to leave Protocol is a hassle itself, one that you most likely won’t even have the chance to do. Omen has some attachment to you and everyone seems to know that even Brim.

Most likely due to his perceptive he is, he knew of your little plan of trying to leave. He would talk with Brimstone trying to talk him into a deal or some type of way to make you stay. You keep him calm, all those voices and nightmarish images he has to live with everyday, you somehow make it bearable. 

When you arrive in Brimstone’s office requesting your resignation, somehow you cannot. Brimstone explains it has something to do with agent confidentiality or the safety, you weren’t really listening. 

Yet you’re stuck.

Standing there under Brimstone’s gaze never upset you, never made you nervous or anxious in any way. It was him who stood there, the walking shadow as he gazed upon your rigid form. Your fists clench to your side, sweat starting to form in your already clammy hands. The whole confrontation was unsettling, not only Brimstone was delivering such disheartful news, you had to endure the shadow that loomed over you. By the time the meeting was done and a final apology was uttered from Brim, he dismissed you. You walked out, form slumped as you were completely saddened by the news. As you made your way to the shared dining facility, you made yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves down from what had happened. In the corner of your eye you could see the familiar phantom, the inescapable nightmare that you permanently stained your life.. 

BRIMSTONE: 

You’re not making it out of the book with this one. There is no way you could even try to leave considering he is the leader of Protocol and would make up some excuse as to why you couldn’t resign from your role as an agent. 

He makes the rules and no one questions it. Why would they when all he does is look out for his fellow agents and tries to encourage them as much as he can. 

Brim is one stubborn man, one who has committed himself to protecting this earth from all the radianite crises that continue to happen. He had the chance of retiring, starting a family and settling down somewhere in those American suburbs with the perfect life. He will do anything to keep you there. To keep you under him so when this is all over you and he can finally have the life his ex colleagues always talked about.

He is dedicated and with dedication there is nowhere to run or even hide. 

Stepping into Brimstone’s office you meet the gaze of the older man and you stand in front of his desk. His demeanor changed as he sat up in his chair straightening his form and clearing his throat before he began to talk. “You know why I called you in today?” He begun, his fingers laced together as his nose crinkled with a small sniff. “No sir, I do not.” You addressed him formerly even though it wasn’t mandatory. “I heard word from the others about you possibly wanting to leave. Is that true?” Your back stiffened as you felt scrutiny under his gaze. Your mouth went dry, heart stammering in your chest the longer he continued to stare at you. “Yes sir…” A defeated tone you uttered. He shifted his position, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he turned to look back up at you. “Look kid, I can't let you do that. Considering what is all going right now, not only would it be risky for you but with what you know Protocol could be compromised. I’m sorry to deliver this kind of news to you, I know it can be stressful but that is why we're all here…why I’m here.” He stood, walking towards you to place his much larger burly hand on your shoulder. The close proximity unsettled you as silence settled in the room, his deep breaths compared to your shallow fearful ones. “When this is all over you don’t need to worry about all of this. Like I said I’m here for you…I always will be.” It was at that moment you knew your fate was sealed.

[seneitut]

“Love”

PT (1) PT (2) 

[Yoru/Reader] [Omen/Reader]

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions of murder, obsession of sorts, suggestive sexual encounters, yandere-ish(?)

How do they show their love? [Is it the epitome of extreme, or just dumb fools?]

Yoru: Act. 

For him, words mean nothing if the actions don't back them up immediately; whether be in friendships or his intimate life—to which he shouldn't worry at all since he has none—, he won't heed to promises nor apologies if those are not fulfilled accordingly.

This fact never changed, strengthening with time and polishing it through everything surrounding him despite clashing wildly with the rest. Deaf to complaints and blind to dirty stares, he continues to strive forward in life ignoring them; because if not even the first light made him change his mind, neither will the people who came after the disaster.

Even when he found himself falling in love, Yoru's morals and beliefs never warped nor misguided. 

Odd, in everyone's eyes. Meant to be yours, in his.

The loner wolf got someone to like him and tame his wild heart by simple actions, little by little, until Yoru stopped being the radiant with powerful abilities, to introduce himself to you as Ryo; a normal japanese man who enjoys the smells of coffee and reminisce the old times with a heavy heart.

You were completely fooled by his web of lies to keep you away from the mess his life is, to keep you on your toes whenever he desired to share bits of his past and made you feel like the only person special in his world; which is true, despite the many wrongs he's done, you are truly what he could consider his special someone and his treasure.

As the ways you managed to have him wrapped around your finger, Yoru didn't even know he was capable of trusting something so important and delicate as his heart to a stranger of sorts, blinding following what his emotions dictate and what your sweet words enchant him to do.

He was in love, completely and utterly head over heels for you it was almost ridiculous. Yoru would eat every word you’d have to say, watch your fingers work around your station, making his favorite beverage for the day while glancing his way every now and then. He would stay some days, where work was not important and you seemed thrilled to have him around, lounging in the coffee shop and watching you work with a gentle smile gracing his features.

For when the night falls, he would kiss every inch of your body that you allow him to reach and worship you as if you were a god, his god; preaching, marking and claiming you as his.

Every touch, every bite mark, everytime you gasp for air when he drowns himself into your body, taking and taking in tandem what you offer in a silver plate; he cannot get enough, going for it one at a time until he has you shattering with pleasure and he chases after you to join you, that’s how ridiculous this whole thing is.

Phoenix and Jett are the few who were witness to his affections towards another and made it out alive after being found out spying on the japanese man.

To say you saved them from the wrath of Yoru's anger despite the other having all the reasons to explode on them would be an understatement; they are more than thankful, if not curious about your history with the riftwalker and what it meant to have a partner outside his profession.

It was dangerous, in truth, to have his personal life disclosed this easily to everyone who was his comrade in battle; nothing good would come out of it and his lies would be found out if you were to interact further with them.

But at the end, he realized it could favor him immensely if the others knew, except for you.

Yoru is not someone who can trust others easily, as previously stated. Quite the opposite, through his tough persona, he evades people all the time to avoid being seen or cornered to socialize; insulting and pushing away whoever wants to approach him even from a friendly stance.

But when you entered his life, he knew he wouldn't be able to protect you alone, hence the lies, so he decided the best course of action would be roping up a few other members to ensure your safety, as dangerous as it might sound.

Cypher would be sure to erase every trace of your existence or interactions with the riftwalker after every meeting, all at the high cost of a price he won't disclose by contract with the Moroccan man. He is not proud of what he owes Cypher now, but to know you're well secured and protected, he would do it again and again.

He contacted Killjoy to hack into the system to find any correlation of your social circle to whoever worked or is currently working for Kingdom. Once the list was delivered into his hands, Yoru would make sure everyone on the list would be erased from existence, not a single soul would be able to escape him.

By what methods? That's for him to take to the grave, no witnesses.

You are his world, you are his everything, and he will make sure you are safe and sound or else hell will rise. 

Omen: Words.

The concentration poured into keeping himself together could be arguably the best quality he could offer. 

Not everyone can pride themselves about the determination of keeping oneself alive for longer than nature intended; since his due time was past the date and he’s now going against every little law of the universe, he wonders if this was some sort of punishment. 

He’s never asked to be revived into…a monster, despite having many people arguing that whatever he is now, is better than being dead.

A foolish thought.

Omen can definitely be naming the many reasons as to why it is not a miracle, but a penitence for his past mistakes when he was alive. Atoning for his sins in the form of smokes and dirty armor, from broken flesh and ignited bones, it pains him deeply being alive and despises whoever treats his hurt as if it were nothing.

Being reborn as a new being shifts something on his brain, unintentionally, whereas anyone who looks his way will treat him the way he looks: like a monster.

Is inevitable, really, a course of action not even he has the power to stop nor change. He goes along with whatever happens in his surroundings now, letting the flow of energies guide him to where he currently is at and accustomed to his comrades attitudes.

He is more than aware of their dirty looks and general avoidance whenever he is in the vicinity, oblivious of his capability of sensing emotions through wavelengths or the fact that he is witness to their change in demeanour— they know how to keep it professional enough so disturbances don't take place.

That is how his days go by, used to it, used to being an unsightly view and detriment to the morale of his comrades with his unsettling voice and mannerism. His turmoil means nothing if the rest is content with not having him around; so he absconds, hides himself most of the time and pretends he isn't alive for their sake.

There is nothing new in his everyday life.

Or so he thinks, before his curse tides the wave in his favor.

Imagine his surprise the first time someone didn't react negatively with his presence. 

It threw him off, confusion overtaking him and assuming he just read the cues wrong. It surprised him  more when you didn't react at all until he spoke out loud, scaring the living shit out of you.

When you looked at him, or more specifically, where you thought he was, Omen supposed this would go different.

Not being a sociable person, Omen finds it odd on him to have been convinced to come to Harajuku for materials he needed. Some of his knitting kits have gone missing, and trying to go by undetected and to not bother his comrades, he never spoke about the issue.

Yoru made some reassurance, in his own way, that no one would mind the way he looks since everyone there was already a freak. Omen didn't refute his saying, since his words had truth in there, despite feeling offended. 

“They won't even notice you at night,” he commented.

No fear, no screams, not even a glance nor terrified expression painting your features besides being startled; that's how your first meeting went: only a smile and the pleasure to assist him.

Kind and lovely, adjectives Omen would never think of being used in his vocabulary, but for this occasion, it was necessary, a must to describe you. Amusing, too, whenever he would ask you questions about certain things, voice deep and reverberating it sent shivers down your spine, it made you nervous.

One more worker, just like him, but missing a certain ability most had.

You were blind.

For better or worse, it doesn't change your way of treating him like a human being; despite him losing his humanity over and over again on the battlefield, taking life after another, you treat him with a kindness and warmness that he has forgotten long ago. 

You are quick to erase the awful thoughts running through his brain with little chats and adorable clumsiness, chasing after him at the shop to keep talking. It was flattering that someone was taking an interest in him this deeply, and inevitably, he finds himself chasing after you too.

Omen believes this is how liking someone feels, contrary to his initial thoughts on socializing, he finds it fulfilling and easy to navigate on with you with this newfound feeling.

His one time visit becomes a recurrent, always looking for you and ignoring everyone else in your surroundings to goad you into full attention and pretty smiles. Even when people visit the shop, even when people comment on his overall look with disgusted faces, one word from you eases his tension and doubts.

You are a sweetheart to a fault, letting everyone walk on you because of your calm demeanor and shy complex under stressful situations. He would watch people talk behind your back within your presence, ignoring completely the crestfallen expression on your face or the gathering tears in your eyes when you think he’s not there or no one notices.

They belittle you, doubt your work and decision making because of your lack of vision.

They doubt him too, for his appearance, he doesn’t know for sure. But their words begin to target him as well, stronger than before, with the full intention of seeing him fall and break under the pressure of the masses and therefore, you would fall too.

Omen decides he wants them gone.

Aim is another quality of his, you know?

A little secret whispered in your ear one night. With a promise to return and barrel of the gun cold, he goes off into the dark and blends in within the shadows surrounding the city to fulfill his wishes.

Whatever he does outside the sliding doors of the little shop should be none of your concern, but his alone. If you hear crying, muffled sounds at the end of the street, or just the minimum rustle at the entrance, he’s warned you to not chase after it.

Being covered in dry blood is not a pretty sight, and he wonders then, watching the life fading from another monster who dared disrespect you, if you would accept it for who he really is.

So when he reaches the threshold in the shop, startling you and freezing on the spot, he asks you if you would ever consider loving someone who doesn't belong in this world anymore.

When you kiss for the first time, Omen doesn't think, he can't, too overwhelmed to process what's going on.

Is odd, but somehow, warming. Your face is warm with how embarrassed and nervous you feel, lips reaching into thin air, but at the same time, colliding against a surface you believe could be his mouth.

Your hands hold his head in place through the fabric of his hood, and he can feel your thumbs rubbing softly against what could be considered his cheeks in a soothing motion when you press further and then back away, smiling softly at him.

There are no words to say, it's unnecessary at this moment when the question has been answered.

Omen caresses your face with his claws, and he feels you shiver and sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. 

Leaning in, he decides to take what he wants from you, and you gladly let him have his way with you, whispering his name the moment his hands disappear under your clothes and air embraces your whole body.

Inside the closed shop, no one is witness of the way Omen loves you that night, with his whole being and emotions only he dreamed of being real and is now a reality.

[ozzgin]

I just watched The First Omen at the cinema and you may go ahead and cuff me for blasphemy, but…

Devil x Reader

You have been chosen by the Cult as the one to carry their ungodly plan after many failed attempts. This time it was a success, yet not for the reasons they might expect. The Devil has his eyes on you.

Content: female reader, mentions of pregnancy, religious themes, blasphemy, violence, horror, a non-consent scene!, based on The First Omen (2024); image from the promotional poster

Why you, of all people? You're not particularly devoted to religion, nor do you stand out in terms of virtuousness. Or lack of, for that matter. Alas, their reasons remain unknown.

What's certain is that you woke up one day and found yourself strapped to a foreign bed, staring into a ceiling you didn't recognize. You weren't alone. Around your helpless form stood men and women, dressed in black and wearing a solemn smile. Your forehead received a gentle, encouraging stroke from the hand of the priest. The scent of chrism invaded your nostrils.

You begged them to release you. The older man spoke softly in your ear. "You are serving a greater purpose. It is all in the name of God." God? Purpose? You rolled your eyes back and gazed upon the large painting hanging behind you. Virgin Mary and her blissful smile and stretched out hands felt like a mockery.

The holy image vanished as a black cloth was nonchalantly draped over your face. You felt the rope tighten around your neck and begun gasping for the scarce air barely making it through the thick canvas. A crescendo of muffled chants, and the room went abruptly quiet. Had everyone left?

Then you heard it. That profane growl, causing the entirety of your body to shiver in repugnance and terror. You trashed, and pulled, and screamed, to no avail. A clawed hand rested on your bare stomach, then a second one traced the rest of your body. You laid limp, vision blurred as the room swayed in tandem with the sacrilegious act.

You'd been defiled by a Beast. The next time you opened your eyes, you were back in your bed. Your hopes of it being a mere nightmare were shattered the moment you lifted your gown and noticed the deep scratches, the monstrous prints left on your skin, and the hollow sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your body had been tampered with, and something was growing out of your misfortune. A vile blight, throbbing with life within the comfort of your flesh.

You spent the months haunted by voices and visions. The grotesque, horned Creature would frequently reappear in your mind, exhausting all other thoughts. Such a heavy, imposing presence. It wouldn't let you forget, not even for a second: you belonged to Him, and He would soon return to retrieve you. The mother of His child, the object of His adoration. Was such a thing even conceivable?

You prayed to be left alone, yet the Cult naturally longed for its promised gift, bound to come back eventually. And so, once more, you were facing the people who caused your despair. "We've come for the child", the priest explained, glancing at your obvious, bulging belly. The clawed hand framing it was still a fresh wound that never healed, almost as an ominous warning: this body was owned by a jealous God.

Your trembling hands revealed a pocketknife. This time, you were prepared. The group took a moment to observe your daring gesture, then proceeded to approach you with calculated steps, with newfound resolve. Would you be able to keep them away? Their intentions were clear: you were in possession of the Antichrist, and they needed to secure this immense power.

The ground shook, and everyone froze. You glanced at the altar painting, the same one that witnessed your corruption. Virgin Mary remained with an unfaltering smile. From behind the ornate frame, large, horrid hands creeped out. A travesty of everything Holy. The priest gasped and quickly threw his hands in prayer. This was not part of the plan. This was not meant to happen.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis-" he began, but his voice was cut short. His face turned pale, and he clutched his chest with a terrible grimace. The nun next to him let out a scream before she was pushed away by an invisible force. Her body hit the wall with a loud, wet sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. You stared at the massacre unfolding before you, devoid of any fear. Somehow, in the depths of your soul, you knew you'd be safe.

An enormous shadow emerged from behind the painting, twisting, bending, stalking towards you. Your nose scrunched at the stench of blood. You were the last one standing among corpses. To your surprise, you exhaled deeply, shoulders drooping in comfort. A silent voice murmured in your ear, telling you not to fear. That Father was finally home for you.

Foolish, ridiculous humans. He'd been willing to entertain their petty plans of grandeur, until he met you: your tender, frail body, your innocent soul. How exalting it was to have his way with you. You were meant to be the one. To carry His offspring into the damned world. But not for some trifling reason of a Cult desperate to crawl their way back into control. Their greatest mistake - which led to their demise - was to assume the Devil himself can be controlled, ordered around. He has allowed you the greatest honor of joining him, out of your free will, to sow the seeds of chaos as his beloved mortal.

Thus, he couldn't have possibly allowed anyone to interfere. What you saw that day, in that old, musty underground cavern, was an omen: a bloodbath awaits the one who dares to approach his human.

You look up into the demonic orbs: trenches of madness, obsession, vulgarity, burning holes into you, slurping your very existence with hunger and lust. You are his.

[yandere-toons]

Yandere: "is that your family?" S/O: "nope, nah-uh, nada. I've never seen those people in my life"

Years of hard data say you're lying, but they're not about to incriminate themselves by revealing so: Huey Duck, Hunter | Golden Guard, Aziraphale, Sheldon J Plankton, Doctor Nefarious, Tenth Doctor, Shang Tsung, Dr Flug, Perry the Platypus, Midoriya Izuku

Suspects the lie but rolls with it: Ian Malcolm, Louie Duck, Anthony J. Crowley, Nick Wilde, Nagito Komaeda, Captain Jack Sparrow, Lightning McQueen, Ratchet, Kaa, Bugs Bunny, Mike Wazowski, Johnny Loughran, Klaus Hargreeves, Sans Undertale, Arataka Reigen, Tyrion Lannister, Legoshi, Rouge the Bat, Wallace Wells, Kendall Roy, Connor Roy, Finnick Odair

Races over to introduce themselves: Toga Himiko, SpongeBob SquarePants, Dewey Duck, Judy Hopps, Kokichi Ouma, Beetlejuice, Celia Mae, Gaston, Mavis Dracula, Undyne, Beast Boy, Deadpool, Alvin Seville, Phil Dunphy

Believes you: Pinkie Pie, Bluey & Bingo, Jataro Kemuri, Chick Hicks, Caligosto Loboto, GIR, Daffy Duck, Bill & Ted, Olaf, Shigeo Kageyama, Starfire, Scott Pilgrim, Ken, Castiel

Laughs at your thin deceptions: Emperor Belos, Bill Cipher, Black Hat, Scar, Shere Khan, Tai Lung, Lord Shen, Pagan Min, Invader ZiM, Shao Kahn, Eleventh Doctor, Rainbow Dash, Shenzi, Randall Boggs, Duncan Pepperidge Anderson, Agent Smith, Doctor Eggman, Han Solo, Alastor, Izaya Orihara, Gideon Graves, Roman Roy, Shiv Roy, Gristol Malik

Alternative interpretation is equally funny — the yandere is pointing out random groups of people and slowly narrowing down their choices.

[harvs-chaos]

GOING TO TAKE REQUEST

Hello! My name is Harvey, I am a writer and artist, I have decided to take request here are my rules

WILL DO -

Yandere

Fem reader

Masc reader

Gn reader

Fluff

Romantic or platonic

Angst

WONT DO -

Character x Character (unless it's poly, as in Character x reader x character, as in Aziraphale x reader x Crowley, or Miles x reader x Ginger ext.)

Character x Oc (for writing)

Smut

Pedo stuff

Too much gore

Too much Murder

Etc. have decency you homosapiens

What I will write/draw for

Sonic - any variation

TMNT - most variations

Hermitcraft

Empires Smp

Good Omens (hiatus)

Hannibal (2013)

Centaurworld

Silence of the lambs

The boy

Arcane

DNI IF -

Rasict

Homophobic

Ableist

Or just a generally disrespectful person in general

THANK YOU, I hope to hear from you soon

- Harvey

[elidrawings]

Intro!🍂

Name’s Eli! I use They/He pronouns! I am 14!,I am italian but I speak also english very well! Stuff I like: Good omens,Hazbin Hotel,Helluva boss,Yandere Sim,Roblox,digital art,hellenism,south park,books,DTI,mandela catalogue,yandere games (14 days with you,lurking for love,sunny day jack,john doe) DNI: RACIST,HOMOPHOBIC/TRANSPHOBIC PEOPLE,Z00,P3D0S,OLDER THAN 20 YOUNGER THAN 13

dm me in priv to be friends!! ヽ(≧∀≦)ﾉ

[rokishimizu4]

Letters from Snake Shoppe for Cosplay Con

Ello~ everyone, I have an amazing idea to write different letters and pass them out when I go to the Cosplay Con. However, I don’t know which anime, video games, books, movies, etc to do.

That’s where you come in~. The top five will also be put up on my tumblr for everyone to enjoy~.

I’m making letters from Death Note and the FNAF series

[savorydahlia]

Ummmm ummmm can i request general hcs or just anything for a yandere crowley from good omens 🥹🥹🥹 ty im starving

Done!

[evilmichealcera]

Intro post

Hi I’m evil Micheal Cera but I also go by Spidey

I use he/him pronouns and I’m a minor

I’m a beginner artist so I post my art some times

I have a ton of interests so here are some: dead boy detectives, good omens, YHS (Sam gladiator), once upon a witch light, ninja turtles, Spider-Man, Deadpool, night at the museum , Scott pilgrim, Falsettos, heathers, be more chill, ride the cyclone, gravity falls, death note, carry on, the guy who didn’t like musicals, and Arkhamites

[x4ver1a]

I can wait for you at the bottom

I can stay away if you want me to

I could wait four years if I gotta

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

[carnivorousyandeere]

“Oh..should we leave him alone? Should we back off? Should we play it safe? NAH, LET’S MAKE THEM MEANER” - Me and four other people on the poll rn

Deep respect and fear towards all of you 😭

But I live to serve, and in the future I promise to try and make Erik meaner. For real this time 🫡😂

(At least some of the time~)

[kindlymean]

I don’t hate you for making fun of my tears. You don’t have eyes after all.

[gigabyte-flare]

The Death of Peace of Mind

[A Gigabyte Flare One Shot]

Summary: Traumatized by your time in Skyhaven, you seek the comfort and safety of the man you trust with your heart, little do you know, however, that nowhere is truly safe anymore; not even the N109 Zone.

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Caleb x fem!reader (afab)/Sylus x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

WARNING, THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THE FOLLOWING: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, Spoilers for Homecoming Wings, yandere tropes, non-con kissing, implied non-con s3x, pseudo-incest, depictions of PTSD, vomiting, mention of loss of virginity, pet names, unprotected but consensual p in v, denied orgasm, depiction of a panic attack, aftercare, implied murder, stalking

A/N: I have been totally, utterly consumed by Caleb brain rot. Sylus is still my man, but oh my god Caleb does things to me. Inspired by this scene in Caleb's main story, I was so utterly unnerved and fascinated by this whole interaction and I was immediately inspired. Beware that this is very dark. Reader's discretion is advised.

Title inspired by The Death of Peace of Mind performed by Bad Omens

Line Break Divider by cafekitsune

"What if I told you I was always like this?"

Your breath hitches as you press yourself against the back of the sofa, moving away from Caleb's outstretched hand. Caleb's face immediately darkens, his form towering over you as he cages you on the sofa with his arms.

"You're always hurling yourself into danger, whether you realize it or not," Caleb continues, his violet gaze boring into yours, "those that are after your power, you know, the ones that wanna hurt you? They should all just…"

He leans in close, his face inches away from yours, "disappear."

You can feel your heart racing in your chest as you desperately try to move yourself away from him, however, his 'cage' keeps you firmly in place, his resolve unwavering.

"The only place you are truly safe is by my side."

There is a subtle smile on Caleb's lips that unnerve you to your core and you exhale a heavy sigh in an attempt to calm your racing heart. You swallow hard, gathering up your resolve to retort his words, "I am a Deepspace Hunter, Caleb. I face danger head-on, not cower behind a façade of "safety." I don't need--"

"You don't need me? You don't need me?!" he says as he shakes his head; you hear his hands dig into the fabric of the sofa, "is that what you truly think?"

You bring your hand up to shove him away, however he grasps your wrist, squeezing it in a vice-like grip as he pins it to the couch; he leans in closer, his expression taking on a half crazed look, "Tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you."

He pauses before continuing. "Wanna return to Linkon? Just say the word. We'll go back to our past, rebuild our old house and move in together. If that isn't enough for you, I'll build you a whole mansion; you know, the kind with one of those large hedge mazes. I'll plant all your favorite flowers and decorate it with all your favorite things," he gently cups your right cheek before continuing, "it will be the most beautiful, stunning garden you will ever lay eyes on."

Your words fail you, all you can do is stare up at him, completely stunned into silence. A gentle smile forms on his lips before he continues once more, "where I take you, no one will ever find you again. I'll protect you forever."

You blink a few times, shaking your head as you curl up your right fist, placing it on his chest, "Caleb… you can't just--" you stop yourself, considering your next words very carefully, lest you invoke his fury, "I can't let you do that… you are very important to me, but--"

"But what?"

You take his hesitation as an opportunity to escape from his grasp. You try to stand up and push him off, but he grabs both your wrists, pinning them back onto the back of the sofa, his form looming over you once more, "ever since I first met you, I've stifled my true feelings for you every… single… fucking… day. It was suffocating."

A sudden flash of lightning, followed by a roar of thunder, causes you to jump. Your breath trembles as Caleb leans in closer to your face.

"I am done playing these games."

Without any kind of warning, Caleb's lips crash into yours in a searing, passion filled kiss. He practically devours you like a starving animal, a low moan escaping him as he pushes himself into you. You open your mouth to scream, however this just invites Caleb's tongue to delve into your mouth to perform a sick dance with yours as his hands move to slide under your shirt--

You wake up screaming, clutching your pillow tight to your chest as your eyes snap open. You take in gulps of air as your eyes dart around your bedroom, taking in your surroundings.

You're at home in your apartment in Linkon. It was just a nightmare.

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you calm yourself; your racing heart taking a few minutes to finally settle into a steady rhythm. You feel a couple of tears roll down the sides of your face. You slowly sit up in bed, however a sudden wave of nausea comes over you and you quickly climb out of bed and race to the bathroom with your hand covering your mouth. You barely are able to turn the bathroom light on and kneel in front of the toilet when you begin heaving into the toilet bowl, only managing to vomit up bile.

You start to sob as you continue to cough into the toilet bowl, your throat stinging as you swallow back more bile. When your stomach finally settles down, you sit back with your legs tucked beneath you. You wipe a tear from your eye when you hear it, a subtle noise coming from inside your apartment. Immediately, you're on high alert. You stand back up, stepping into the doorway leading into your living room, you peer around your darkened apartment, the open layout allowing you to see that its empty; there's no one here but you.

So what was that noise you heard?

Not giving yourself another opportunity to hear it again, you race back into your bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind you. You dart over to your nightstand, grasping your phone like it's your last lifeline and call the one person you are now realizing you can truly trust, especially at this hour: Onychinus's fearless leader, Sylus.

You press the call icon as you sit on the end of your bed. The phone barely rings before he answers.

"Kitten… what are you doing up so late? It's three in the morning; did you miss--"

"Can you come pick me up?" you ask, cutting him off.

You hear Sylus suck in a breath before he continues, the alarm evident in his voice, "what's the matter, Sweetie?"

It's then you hear another noise from inside your apartment beyond your bedroom door, "can you just come? You have the key to my apartment I gave you, right?"

"I do. What's this about? Are you ok?"

"Sylus, please…" you plead, tears once again threatening to fall down your cheeks.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes."

You hang up the call, clutching your phone to your chest, your heart once again racing in your chest as your mind wanders back to one of your last encounters with Caleb. He was someone you grew up with, trusted, and loved. You called it a miracle when he came back into your life after you thought him dead for over a year, but something happened to him. Something changed him, or so you thought. You'd never thought in a million years that Caleb would force himself on you. You shake your head as you choke back a sob, willing yourself not to think about what happened after he kissed you that night.

The only reason you're back in Linkon now is because Caleb and his fleet were sent on an expedition into the Deepspace Tunnel, granting you your only means of escape from him. While it's been a few days since you got home from Skyhaven, each time you close your eyes, you see Caleb's face, those words burned into your brain.

As you wait for Sylus, you think back on your childhood, your eyes widening in horror as you slowly come to the realization that Caleb was right. From that time he locked you in the attic to prevent you from confronting those bullies to his insistent hovering over you, he was completely and utterly obsessed with you. So why didn't you see the warning signs sooner?

"What if I told you I was always like this?"

When you look at someone through a rose colored lens, all the red flags just look like flags…

The sound of keys jingling followed by the front door of your apartment opening snaps you back into reality; you practically spring off the bed and whip open your bedroom door. You don't even give Sylus a chance to say anything as you slip on some shoes and approach him, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his broad chest as you inhale the scent of his cologne. The relief you feel is indescribable as you break your embrace and take his hand, practically dragging him out of your apartment before shutting and locking the front door.

It takes everything in you to not run to Sylus's sports car waiting outside. Sylus guides you to the passenger's seat, opening the door for you to climb inside as he walks over to the driver's side, getting in and starting the car before driving off into the night.

"Do you want to explain what this is about, Kitten?" he asks as he looks over at you, his face full of concern.

"I'll tell you once we're at the base. Just drive," you say, your voice flat as you lean your head against the passenger's side window, watching the city lights go by as Sylus drives.

Sylus reaches over, gently rubbing your thigh before placing his hand back on the car's stick shift. Seeking his touch, you place your hand on top of his as he shifts gears, your fingers intertwining with each other. Before you know it, he drives into N109 Zone territory, the red moon casting an eerie glow as he continues his drive to his base. Once he arrives, he parks the car and motions to you to stay seated. He climbs out of the car, coming over the passenger's side to open the door. He scoops you up out of the car, carrying you bridal style into the base.

Once inside, Luke and Kieran stand to attention, clearing their throats before Luke speaks, "Boss, you're back! That must be some kind of record-- Oh! Miss Hunter!"

"Ensure the base is secure, I do not want to be disturbed," Sylus orders as he carries you deeper into the base.

"Yessir!" you hear the twins reply before listening to their steps scurry away.

Sylus carries you into his bedroom, laying you down onto the bed gently before walking around to climb onto the bed next to you. He brings his hand up to your face, gently caressing your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"Now, Kitten, do you mind telling me what's the matter?"

You take a deep breath, but despite trying to compose yourself, you break down and begin to spill everything to Sylus. You tell him about how you infiltrated the Farspace Fleet to investigate an explosion that was eerily similar to the one you had experienced that took the lives of your adoptive grandmother and your adoptive brother; only to find out that his life wasn't claimed in that explosion after all.

You tell him about the relief you felt finding out that your beloved Caleb was alive and well, but were shocked to find out he's now the ruthless Colonel of the Farspace Fleet. You tell Sylus about your growing suspicions of Caleb, about how he had drugged you to prevent you from rescuing a child that was involved in the explosion you were investigating. You told him about Caleb's increasingly unhinged behavior that eventually led up to… what had happened to you before Caleb's departure to the Deepspace Tunnel expedition. It was the first time since it happened that you let yourself recall the full details of that night.

Sylus's expression grimaces, his lips twitching into a snarl as he clenches his fists in his lap. "Was that your first time?" he asks, his voice low.

You bite your bottom lip, desperately fighting back more tears as you nod, "yes… it was."

Sylus closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking back over at you. Funny enough, you once feared those crimson eyes, but as you got to know Sylus, you came to love them and, in a way, fall in love with the person attached to them, although you didn't want to admit it given the fact you were a Hunter and he was the leader of the largest crime syndicate on the planet. After the incident with the Aether Core at the auction, you came to discover that Sylus was not the heartless monster that everyone painted him to be. He was always kind to you, showering you in gifts and affection; not even mentioning he always empowered you to be your best self, no matter what. He also was always honest with you.

Caleb was not.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you shift yourself closer to Sylus, gently caressing the side of his face in your hand. Sylus gives you a gentle smile before once again caressing your face with the backs of his fingers.

"If you'll have me, Sweetie, I want to take away your pain. Let me replace that horror with my love."

Smiling at him as a tear rolls down your cheek, you give him a subtle nod. Gently grasping the back of your head, Sylus pulls your face to his, his lips pressing against yours gingerly, as if testing the waters. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer and you feel yourself practically melt in his embrace. His kiss was nothing like Caleb's had been; it was gentle and loving, but also confident. Your hands caress his chest, feeling his toned muscle beneath his shirt. It's not long before your fingers are undoing the buttons on his shirt.

Within minutes, yours and his clothing have been discarded on the floor on each side of Sylus's bed. Having climbed under the sheets, Sylus positions himself above you, his mouth devouring yours, your tongues dancing in each other's mouths as his large hands grope your breasts. You moan Sylus's name between kisses, the slick of your arousal gathering between your legs. Sylus breaks the kiss, staring down at you as he slowly parts your legs, his eyes glazed in lust as he stares down at you.

"Do you want this, Kitten?" he asks softly.

Your chest heaving, you stare up into Sylus's crimson gaze, a smile teasing the corners of your mouth before you whisper, "yes, I do."

Sylus smiles as he reaches down between your bodies, grasping his throbbing hard cock and positioning it at your entrance, but as he moves his hips to sheath himself inside you, you place your hand onto his chest, stopping him.

"I'm safe here, right?" you ask, the worry clear in your eyes.

"Of course you are," Sylus whispers before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, "no one enters the N109 Zone without me knowing about it, I assure you."

"Ok," you reply, gently nodding as you remove your hand from his chest.

"You haven't changed your mind, have you? It's ok if you have, Sweetie."

You quickly shake your head as you drape your arms around his strong shoulders, "no, I haven't. I need you, Sylus…"

Sylus leans back down to kiss you once more and as he does so, he pushes himself into you, the feeling of your soft walls caressing his length pulling a soft moan from him. Once he's sheathed himself fully inside you, he pauses his movement to allow your body to adjust to his length and girth. Your breaths become ragged as your legs hook around his waist; the brief discomfort quickly replaced by pleasure as the head of his cock presses gently against your cervix.

"You can move, Sylus, I'm ok."

Smiling at your reassurance of your comfort, he begins to move his hips into you. His thrusts are gentle at first, but as your soft whimpers evolve into loud moans, he quickens his pace, burying his face into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting marks into your skin, marking you as his.

"Oh my God, Sylus…" you moan, tilting your head back against the pillow behind your head, allowing better access to your neck for Sylus, who happily accepts your unspoken invitation.

Completely lost in pleasure, you feel Sylus move himself away from your neck after a few minutes to cage your body with his. He angles his hips in such a way that the head of his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly, causing you to see stars behind your eyelids.

"Fuck…" you breathe out, "I'm gonna cum…"

You slowly open your eyes to look up as Sylus before he hurtles you over the edge, however, it's not Sylus's face staring down at you.

It's Caleb's.

"Doesn't this feel good, pip-squeak?"

You suck in a breath as your eyes widen in horror. You bring your hands up to push him off as you start screaming. You kick at him and thrash your body as you are thrown into a full blown panic. Tears stream down your face as you shut your eyes tight, refusing to look into his purple eyes. You feel hands grasp your arms.

"Hey, hey, hey! Shhh, shhh, shhh…" you hear Sylus's voice say as he abruptly pulls himself out of you, cradling your face in his hands, "I'm right here, Kitten. You're safe, it's ok…"

Upon hearing Sylus's comforting voice, you slowly open your eyes and see Sylus's concerned expression staring down at you as he gently grasps your shoulders, caressing them slowly in an effort to calm you down.

"Oh my god, Sylus… I'm so sorry…" you say, your lips trembling as you start to cry, "I'm so fucking sorry…"

"There is nothing to apologize for, Kitten," he replies as he brushes your disheveled hair away from your face, "what can I do to help you?"

"Just hold me… please…"

"Of course."

Rolling off you, Sylus wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as you snuggle into his embrace, the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep as you wrap your arms around his torso. He rubs your back, placing a kiss onto the top of your head before closing his eyes, quickly falling asleep as well.

The bodies of two masked men lay crumpled on the floor in front of the intruder, their blood seeping out onto the marble. Their positions are unnatural, as if they were crushed by some unimaginable force. Clutched in the intruder's right hand is a mechanical crow, it's neck crushed by his grasp. He let's go of the bird, its metallic body hitting the floor with a loud clank. He adjusts the hat on his head, signifying his high rank in the Farspace Fleet as he begins to walk down the hallway, his leather boots picking up the blood from the bodies and trailing it down the hall.

It only takes him a few minutes to find what he's looking for: the master bedroom. His gloved hand grabs the handle, slowly turning it as to not announce his presence as he gently pushes the door open. It softly creaks as it opens, opening up into a large bedroom. The intruder's purple gaze shifts across the room, observing the lit fireplace and a four poster bed over to the left. His brow furrows when he sees the bed's occupants: his beloved and the leader of Onychinus himself. The sight of their nude bodies embracing each other causes his blood to boil.

The muscles in his neck tensing, he slowly walks over to the bed. When he approaches, he stands at the end of the bed, staring down at the bed's occupants, watching their chests and shoulders rise and fall in unison as they slumber, completely unaware of the intruder's presence. He simply stares at them for minutes on end, allowing himself to ruminate and let his anger consume him. He narrows his eyes at the silver haired man as he slowly pulls out one of his large pistols from its holster. He twirls the gun in his hand, using one hand to check the chamber to ensure it's loaded before twirling it again, aiming the gun at the silver haired man's head.

And pulling the trigger.

[lavandulawrites]

The dynamics of the yandere Aventurine x Darling x yandere Sugilite relationship always haunted my mind. I know the guy hasn't been officially released yet. But I could see they couldn't stand next to each other. So imagine them splitting Darling while one is on a field mission and Darling is with the other. When Aventurine was in Penacony, Sugilite was happy to have Darling by his side during that time. Well we can understand why Sugilite in Aventurine's trial chose 'death'

Jewelled Collar

Yandere Sugilite x reader, yandere Aventurine x reader

Their dynamics are truly fascinating. I can’t wait to see more of Sugilite. He seems like such an interesting character. I am very happy with how this turned out<3 I might do a part two

Synopsis: One of your captors has an important mission to attend to, which leaves you alone with the other one…

Masterlist

Warnings: written before Sugilite’s release and in game appearance, slightly eerie Sugilite, reader is afraid of Sugilite, obsession, possessiveness, controlling behaviour, implied manipulation, imprisonment, power imbalance, brief mention of murder

Word count: 1332

The sound of footsteps against polished mahogany floors was echoed through the hallways of the grand mansion. Each steps matched your growing heartbeat into a rhythmic symphony. You sunk yourself further into the pillows on the sofa as you forced your eyes down and to the book in your hand. Your eyes racked over the sentences without registering anything that was written on the page. Your ears was strained as they concentrated on the sound of footsteps.

A hum joined in on the rhythm. It was a classic, a song you had heard countless times from the speaker in his office. Even though the song was a love song and seemingly innocent, he had a certain edge to his voice. It sounded like a warning and it made the air on your arms rise in alert.

The noise stopped and you knew he was standing in the doorway. The tapping of a foot made you slowly avert your gaze from the book. With dread you looked up at the white haired man. He was dressed in an expensive brown suit with purple details with matching earrings that dangled hypnotically. Purple eyes met yours as they crinkled in amusement.

“Are you hungry, my dear?” he asked with a tilt of his head. His lips pulled back in a grin. He resembled a greedy wolf.

Knowing this was not a fight you could ever hope to win, you nodded. Your lips however remained sealed in a symbol of rebellion.

He chuckled at your response. “Good. I have had the chefs prepare a grand feast for the two of us” he held out his arm for you to take.

You slowly, but surly rose from your seat. Your hand wrapped around his bicep, which earned you a satisfied hum from Sugilite.

The walk to the dining hall was long and it felt like an eternity as the endless hallways seemed to stretch on forever. The many paintings that adorned the purple walls turned into a blur. As time seemed to flow into something beyond infinite, the familiar doors to the dining hall appeared in front of you like a threatening omen. Their jaws opened as the butler positioned to the side, opened the doors. His back stif as he bowed. Sugilite sent him a smile that sent cold sweat down the hairline of the butler.

You stilled in your tracks as you stared into the abyss that was the dimly lit hall. An invisible force tightened around your neck in a harsh vice and you forced your breath through your nose. With your nostrils flared and your eyelids peeled like a scared rabbit, you ventured into the awaiting jaws of the beast.

The heavenly smell of lamb and duck filled your nose. You caught yourself inhaling slightly. As you came closer to the grand table suited for royalty, your nose picked up in the rusty smell of blood. Your eyes wandered across the table and they landed on a platter of bloody lamb. Sugilite’s favourite.

The tall man lead you to your seat by the head of the table. Beside his seat that consisted of a throne like chair, your position underneath him was clear as day. The butler pulled out each of your chairs and you took a seat. You let your eyes yet again wander over the table and you were once again astonished by the amounts of food Sugilite had his chefs prepare for every meal. It was the ultimate show of fortune.

The butler poured you both a glass of red wine. The crimson liquid swirled around in the glass with an almost ominous glow. You swallowed thickly when you saw the label on the wine bottle. The bottle was one of the rarest wines in the entirety of the universe. It was so expensive that you couldn’t even fantom the price. It was a wine that Sugilite only drank when he had something to celebrate. He had drunk it when he and Aventurine had both came to an agreement and whisked you away, when he had had his right hand man behead your former friend in front of you, when he had killed one of the most notorious enemies of The IPC and now.

You turned your head towards the white haired man with a horrified frown plastered upon your features.

He smiled at you with his oh so charming smile “We have something to celebrate, you see my dear”. He turned towards his butler “We need some music, don’t you think?” it wasn’t a question, but a command no one with their right mind would dear to deny. The butler bowed deeply before he rushed towards the speaks that was worth more than a human heart. The cozy tune of big band music filled the dining room in a soft melody.

Sugilite turned to you with glittering eyes. His beauty stole your breath away and your heart stirred shyly.

“Aventurine is gone on a mission to the planet of festivities, also known as Penacony. Which means” he leaned in closer “I have you all for myself”. He grinned.

The hairs in your neck rose as you stared back at him with widened eyes. You did not like the glint in his hypnotic purple eyes. “I see” was all you said.

A deep chuckle escaped his lips. “Cheers. Might the future be fruitful” he clinked his glass against yours and took a sip. You followed his lead and repeated his action. The wine was rich and pleasant.

Weeks had passed since you had last seen the blond Stoneheart. He was rarely apart from you for a long time and a little part of you had started to worry. Sugilite had parted from you that morning with a hug grin plastered across his lips. He had kissed you goodbye rather passionately and eagerly before he left. You had overheard from some of his butlers that The Stonehearts were apparently having a meeting where they would decide the future for one of the members. How they had gotten their hands on such information, you did not know, but you knew for sure that they would pay for it with their life. As for the member of whom The Stonehearts would decide their fate, was Aventurine without a doubt.

Sugilite had one afternoon been awfully cheerful and he had told you that a certain idiot had broken something very valuable and that he would have to pay for it. Their hatred for each others was no secret and you were surprised they hadn’t torn of each other’s heads yet.

Hours passed and Sugilite finally returned, but this time he wasn’t alone. The grand doors to the estate opened and in stepped the tall purple clad man and behind him was Aventurine. Aventurine’s unreadable expression quickly change into one filled with love and relief when his beautiful multicoloured eyes met yours.

With a few long strides he crossed the hall and wrapped his arms around your form like a starved boa. He burrowed his face into the crock of your neck and inhaled deeply, with a soft sigh following.

“Aeons how I have missed you, my darling” he whispered against your neck. His voice trembling with emotions.

Sugilite stopped behind Aventurine and gazed at the you two with a raised brow. “Your luck sure is something” he scoffed.

Aventurine glared back at the man. “We agreed to share [Name], didn’t we?” he sneered possessively.

Sugilite nodded in return. “That we did” he flashed you a bone chilling grin.

Aventurine’s eyes snapped back at you and your eyes flickered down to his lips where an equally chilling grin was present. “I am glad there is at least something we can agree on.”

You gulped as you watched your road to freedom crumble underneath your feet. You started at them both while the abyss of helplessness swallowed you whole. It devoured you until there was nothing left except childish hope and unfulfilled dreams were left.

[huicitawrites]

Omen of the Cursed

Yandere! Ryomen Sukuna x Fem! Reader

TW: depictions of abuse, gore, mentions of suicide (non-descriptive), yandere

THE KING OF CURSES sits casually at the edge of the village well, biding his time. Two muscular arms support his weight on the cobblestone, while another relaxes on his knee, and his fourth is busy—clutching a decapitated head in his clawed hand.

Crimson stains adorn the tips of his fingers, and his feet are smeared with blood. Puddles gather in abundance throughout the village, and the earthy streets are littered with bodies and dismembered remains.

He has killed every single one of them.

He enjoyed it.

He relished in their screams and their agony: men, women, children, the elderly. They all sounded the same in the end, squealing and wailing like lowly pigs sent to slaughter.

At first, the village men tried to fight back, but once he claimed his first victim—his Dismantle technique turning a man into a mangled heap of flesh—they began to shriek and run. When they realized there was no escape, they started to beg.

Some cried for their children; others, for their lovers or themselves. It was amusing to observe how far they would go for survival. They offered everything they had: the village's meager gold, their wheat, their rice, their sheep. When they sensed his dissatisfaction, they turned on one another, offering up their wives, their children, their kin—one even stabbed his own brother and threw the corpse at his feet, declaring a desperate loyalty.

Yet, the King of Curses had come to finish what was started, he took their lives one by one, laughing maniacally in ecstasy and joy.

And so, he sits amidst his carnage—waiting.

The best was yet to come.

He tosses the head in his hand, its expression of horror still etched on the pale face as it rolls across the ground, leaving a trail of blood. He shakes his hand to rid himself of the crimson droplets before resting his four-eyed face atop it. His glaring eyes fixate on the village entrance, marked by a large, old Torii gate.

He recalls the day you abandoned him.

He remembers it all too well.

Ryomen Sukuna was born a cursed, unwanted little wretch.

Everyone believed it and treated him as such: the adults and elders in the village, who instilled their beliefs in their children. Even his own father abandoned him as a mere babe, leaving the village under the moon of Sukuna's birth. His mother, on the other hand, took her own life shortly after he learned to walk.

The villagers whispered rumors of a sibling he had devoured while still in his mother's womb.

Everyone despised him, and so young Sukuna began to despise them too—except for one.

You.

You probably knew of Sukuna as ‘an ill omen’ and ‘a cursed child forsaken by the very gods,’ but what surprised him was your disregard for the villagers' cruel words.

(He remembers the first day you met.)

“Hey,” your soft voice called to him in the village woods. He wore dirty, ragged clothes that contrasted with your colorful kimono. “Do you want to play with me?”

“Go away,” he spat, leaning back against the trunk of a tree, pretending to ignore you.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a playful smirk. You crouched by the river, scavenging for the perfect pebble—a flat little rock. To your delight, you found a twin of it, and with both rocks in hand, you approached the bitter boy.

“Here, you have one,” you tossed him a pebble. “I’ll show you.” Your squeaky voice was impossible to ignore, drawing his gaze as you meticulously adjusted your stance. He recognized the blue fire coating the rock in your hand. His eyes widened, and a single thought sprang to mind.

‘Is this girl cursed like me?’

You threw the pebble expertly, and it bounced across the water’s surface three times.

“Did you see that?! Say it was cool, right?! Your turn now; it’ll be fun!” You jumped excitedly, pointing at the lake with a wide, joyous smile.

Sukuna snapped out of his thoughts and concealed his amazement. He didn’t want to admit it then, but it was a very cool shot. With a blank stare, he picked up the pebble at his feet and mirrored your stance. He held it between the tips of his fingers, took a deep breath, and unleashed his own blue fire. The pebble soared from his hand, bouncing farther and more times than yours.

You sparkled with wonder. “Say, can you teach me that? You can see it too, the blue fire!” Your tiny hands clasped his for a jolly handshake.

He remembers the burning embarrassment on his face, nodding and stuttering when you said, “Say… Let’s be friends!”

Back then, you were children who became great friends. You were so different, yet inseparable. You were a pretty daughter: kind, gentle, obedient, playful, and pampered by strict but loving parents.

On the opposite end, he was the village’s outcast. Shooed away from stores, despised by everyone. Parents forbade their children from being near him, adults mistreated him without remorse, and even the village priests scorned him.

Yet you laughed at his antics instead of scorning him. You cheered him on and even sewed him clothes out of spare cloth. You helped him flee when villagers chased him with pitchforks and torches and snuck him food or tea.

Like a moth to a flame, he basked in your warm kindness. As you two grew, he coveted your friendship, wishing for eternity with you by his side.

But as your teenage years approached adulthood, things began to change. While Sukuna detached from the village and its obligations, you became bound by expectations. Your mother filled your days with lessons on housewife duties—sewing, cooking, and manners—while your father began seeking suitors.

You wanted none of it; your spirit longed to explore the world, but your heart was tethered to your family, making it difficult to ignore your parents' wishes.

In a moment of desperation, he proposed an idea, but you laughed incredulously.

“So you say we ‘run away,’” you cocked your head. “I can’t just leave my parents behind. What kind of daughter would I be after all they’ve given me?”

He wanted to protest, to argue that he could take care of you, but you added, “Besides, we need money. A marriage would solve their issues. Yet…”

“I could marry you,” he blurted out.

The words spilled from his lips impulsively, and though he masked his bitterness, a knot tightened in his throat when you laughed.

“My parents would never give their blessings, they’d disown me first.”

“I’m not that bad of a choice.”

“Sure, a boy who steals and has no care or responsibilities makes a decent candidate,” you quipped.

He knew you meant no harm and understood the frustration behind your words. But he stood up and left, even as you apologized. You were speaking the truth. He was still an unworthy boy—weak, poor, a disgrace.

He couldn’t intervene as you left the village.

Three days before your departure, a foreign man appeared. Older, yet toned, with a staff in hand, he seemed a wandering monk- he later realized the old monk was a pesky sorcerer. He should have killed him back then.

The sorcerer interrupted one of your encounters, pointing his staff at you. His eyes sparkled with glee before darkening in disgust as they fell upon him.

Surely, he saw the monster would become - no, the one he was. The hate, the fury, the greed brewing in his dark heart.

The monk spoke with you, offering escape if you became his apprentice. Under the guise of holy work and financial compensation, your parents agreed to send you away.

“I’m leaving, then,” you stuttered, eyes cast down. You couldn't meet his dark crimson gaze, knowing the look of betrayal hiding beneath your stoic facade.

“I will come back to visit; I promise, Ryo,” you said, the pet name spilling from your lips with sweetness, but he huffed in response.

“I will be here waiting, [Y/n].”

Ryomen Sukuna left the same night you departed. He had nothing left in the village and without your presence, he could tolerate the shithole no more.

Two and a half decades passed.

He left as a cursed boy and returned as the feared King of Curses—Ryomen Sukuna.

As he stared at the Torii gate, his foot bounced impatiently, fingers tapping against the cobblestone edge.

Soon, a figure emerged in the distance—a traveler on a mule, donning a kasa. For a moment, he mistook you for the damned sorcerer monk, but he felt your familiar cursed energy. It seems you grew stronger through the years as well.

A wicked grin spread across his face, revealing sharp teeth and fangs. His four bloodshot eyes widened and pupils dilated in anticipation.

Finally, you crossed the gate.

“Welcome back,” the King of Curses greeted. “Do you like my welcome gift?” He gestured to the bodies and blood scattered throughout the devastated village.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pulled back your kasa, revealing a solemn expression on a beautiful face. To Sukuna’s surprise, your eyes held no disgust, fear, or even anger, only a pitiful gaze that irritated him.

“Did you enjoy it?” you asked, ignoring his question. He huffed, wondering if you were attempting to seek a glimpse of that playful childhood friend.

The King of Curses laughed at your question, finding it absurd given the answer was obvious. “I found it most delightful,” he cooed.

Slowly, he detached himself from the well and stood before you. Even a few meters away, you could see the transformation he had undergone. He had become a beast—two extra eyes and arms, a mouth in his abdomen, a colossal build, and black curse markings embroidering his skin.

“It’s true then,” you sighed. “You’ve become the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna.”

“Tis how I’m called now.” It struck him as strange to hear his full name from you. “I must say it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“How many have you killed by now?”

“I’ve lost count, darling.” Your frown deepened, and Sukuna’s smile widened. He noted how tightly you clutched the reins and how your body tensed. “My father and mo—”

“I’ve killed them both,” he cut you off, grinning wickedly. “Their deaths were slow and painful.”

“Ah…”

Now it gets exciting, he mused, watching as fury consumed your expression. This was the response he craved—a little punishment for abandoning him, if you will.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to hold back sobs.

“I have come to slay you, curse,” you spat, mixing pity with spite. You clutched the cloak around you, prying it off to reveal white and red Miko clothing. You held a shakujō, likely a cursed tool.

This was not the first time someone had come to exact vengeance upon him, and it wouldn’t be the last.

However, it would be the last time you left him.

The King of Curses made the first move, closing the distance between you in the blink of an eye. He lunged forward, delivering a devastating blow.

You leapt from your mule, who perished instantly. Your body shivered from his overwhelming strength.

Sukuna continued his relentless assault. Blow after blow, all you could do was dodge—there was no time to parry or block.

In a fleeting moment of opportunity, as you rolled away and encountered his exposed back, you swung your staff, chanting, “Cleanse.”

A blinding explosion of cursed energy erupted against him, bright light streaming from the metal adornments of your staff.

For a moment, you thought you had succeeded—what a fool you were.

He was the King of Curses, after all; he was no longer ‘Ryo.’

Sukuna remained unfazed, standing with his back turned to you. Before you could gauge the danger, one of his lower arms seized your staff, crushing it into splinters. He turned, crimson irises meeting yours.

“Was that all, [Y/n]?”

He reveled in your shock, and before you could distance yourself, he conjured his own spell. “Cleave!”

Hundreds of cuts ripped through your skin, blood gushing from every wound. You choked and coughed, your body crashing to the ground in a futile struggle for breath.

“Does it hurt?” he taunted, voice dripping with venom. Lifting his chin, he added, “This is but a taste of how I felt back then when you turned your back on me, spurning me like everyone else.”

He loomed over you, body casting a shadow. The wicked grin evaporated from his face, voice turning serious. “I find the fear in your eyes delicious. It’s a satisfying punishment for what you did to me.”

Crouching down, he drew forth a hand ignited with cursed energy. Not the familiar blue you knew, but a clear white. You had never witnessed such a technique, your weary mind too occupied to marvel.

Sukuna hovered his hand over your wounds, and in a short time, you found yourself healed, yet the damage had already been done—the fighting, the murder of people.

The King of Curses encircled you with his four arms, lifting you as a husband would lift his wife. Despite the tenderness once present in the boy you knew, you turned your head to avoid his gaze.

He scowled at your rejection; your silent tears pierced his resolve more than any weapon. One hand cupped your cheek, forcing your gaze back to his monstrous face.

"Spurn me no more, I will not let you, not again", he warned, his fingers digging into your skin.

“You’ve become a monster—what their words condemned.”

“I’ve become a king.”

“-of curses.” You cut him off.

His many eyes narrowed, “So what? Human or curse, it matters not in the face of strength,” he said nonchalantly against your melancholy. “All that matters is that I am strong now and that we are reunited. Even if you spurn me, I will make you love me again.”

He sighed, his voice as soft as a whisper.

“The boy you knew may be gone, but you will learn to love the man he has become,” Sukuna assured, his four eyes gazing back at you with an affection that twisted your gut, making your heart race in fear. He began moving toward the Torii gate, carrying you as if you were caged in his embrace.

He inhaled your sweet scent— it reminded him of the home he never had, the one he desires to build with you by his side.

“Finally,” he lowered his face to yours, “we are together again.”

His lips tasted of iron and yours tasted divine.

[heliosunny]

Then can I ask for something with Nanook and a darling who's a bit of a walking calamity? They don't do it on purpose. Just they presence tends to Tigger chain reactions that bring civilizations down. Whatever it's the reason they interest Nanook or of if it's a manifestation of they interest is the darling is up to you.

Yandere!Nanook x Reader

Y/N L/N is your name. But instead of calling you by that, you had been called many things—an omen, a harbinger of ruin, a god of misfortune. People feared your presence, though you had never once raised a hand against them. Their crops withered, their cities fell, their stars dimmed in the sky, and yet, you were only ever a traveler.

But you had learned not to dwell on it.

The galaxy was vast, filled with wonders beyond comprehension. If one world collapsed, there was always another waiting, glimmering in the distance. And so, you wandered, a being untethered by time or fate, carrying nothing but the echoes of places left behind.

You had long stopped trying to stay.

People either feared you or sought to use you. The few who welcomed you with open arms never lasted long. You had learned to laugh at it, to brush off the weight of it all.

"Well, that was unfortunate." you would hum to yourself, standing at the edge of yet another ruined city. "Guess I'll be moving on."

It was easier that way.

-----

The planet had been thriving once. You could still see the remnants of its beauty—the intricate spires of its capital, now crumbling under fire and smoke. The streets, once filled with life, were now silent, save for the crackling embers of ruin.

You had only arrived yesterday.

A sigh left your lips as you stood at the edge of the city, hands on your hips.

This one fell fast.

Usually, it took weeks, sometimes months, before the cracks started showing. You hadn't even had the chance to try the street food yet.

You took a step forward, the dust swirling at your feet.

It's not my fault, you reminded yourself. It never was. You didn't start the fires. You didn't bring the war. These things simply... happened.

You had accepted that a long time ago.

Still, there was something odd about this one.

The destruction felt too clean, too deliberate. Normally, disasters were random—an accident here, a misfire there, the slow decay of systems failing in impossible ways. But this?

You crouched, running your fingers over the cracked stone.

There were scorch marks, yes. But beneath them, you could see the symbols. The same ones you'd glimpsed on other fallen worlds, carved into ruins, etched into broken walls.

No.

Not again.

The realization settled over you like a suffocating weight.

You had always known there were those who whispered your name with reverence. You had heard rumors of a sect— fanatics who believed in the divine cycle of destruction. But you had never given them much thought.

People believe all sorts of things. You had told yourself that more times than you could count.

But this was different. This was too much.

The symbols, the way the city had burned—it wasn’t coincidence. This had been orchestrated.

Had it always been like this? Had your travels, your carefree wandering, been nothing more than a trail of kindling for someone else to set alight?

You stumbled back, shaking your head. No, no, that couldn’t be right. You had seen worlds fall before—seen them unravel by sheer misfortune, by the unseen force that clung to you like a curse. But this?

They were doing this in your name.

And then, the air shifted.

"Why do you weep?"

The voice was smooth, slow, and laced with amusement. It came from behind you, curling around your spine like the first tremor of an earthquake.

You turned.

A figure stood amidst the ruins, haloed by golden light. His form was vast, shifting between something human and something impossibly cosmic, as if the very fabric of existence bent to accommodate him. His eyes burned with the light of dying stars, watching you with something akin to fondness.

Nanook.

But why in that form?

You had never seen them before—not in all your wanderings, not in all the deaths that trailed in your wake.

But they had been watching.

"Why do you despair?" Nanook asked. They gestured to the ruins, to the smoldering city beneath your feet. "You were not made for weak, fleeting things."

Their presence swallowed the world around you, vast and consuming. As Nanook stepped closer, and the ground trembled beneath them.

"You were made for me."

Nanook’s words rang in your skull like a bell, reverberating through your bones with an awful certainty.

"No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wasn’t made for anyone."

Nanook only chuckled. It was a deep, resonant sound, something that should have belonged to a being incapable of laughter.

"Is that what you believe?"

Their gaze swept over you, and there was something terribly fond in the way they looked at you—like a collector admiring the rarest piece in their possession. "You have wandered for so long, destroying all that you love, running from the truth carved into your very existence. And yet, you still resist."

Your nails dug into your palms.

"I never wanted this" you snapped, the weight of it all crashing down. "I never wanted them to—" Your throat closed up, bile rising in your chest as you gestured wildly at the ruins around you. "They did this in my name, Nanook! They burned this city to the ground, they slaughtered people because they thought it would please me!"

Nanook watched you, unbothered by your outburst.

"And?"

The word made you flinch.

"And—?" you echoed, voice cracking. "And you think that’s fine? That this is—" You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "No. No, I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this."

Nanook sighed, as if indulging a stubborn child.

"You misunderstand." Their hand remained outstretched, waiting. "This is not about what you want. It never has been."

"You were never meant for fragile things, my love." Nanook's voice curled around you like silk, patient and inescapable. "You were never meant to hold, only to break. You have always known this."

No, no, that wasn’t true. You had held things before. You had loved cities, people, fleeting moments of warmth. You had admired the way life bloomed in the strangest places, had marveled at art, at music, at the endless wonders the universe had to offer.

But all of it—all of it had crumbled the moment you got too close.

The child who had given you a flower had fallen ill the next day, their village lost to an inexplicable plague.

The man who had offered you shelter had perished in a fire that consumed everything he owned.

The kingdom that had welcomed you as a guest had been swallowed by war before the week’s end.

No matter what you did, no matter how carefully you walked, everything you loved was destined to die.

The realization hit you like a blow to the ribs, knocking the breath from your lungs.

Nanook took another step forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. They towered over you, vast and endless, a being that could not be escaped.

"Come, there is nothing for you in this fragile world. Leave it behind, and I will give you something eternal."

"And if I refuse?"

Nanook’s smile widened, slow and knowing.

"You won’t."

Their hand finally met your cheek, warm and firm, and the cosmos cracked open beneath your feet.

Nanook’s fingers brushed against yours, warm and steady.

You didn’t pull away this time.

There was no fear in their touch, no trembling hesitation like the mortals who had once tried to hold you. Nanook was not afraid that you would break them—because they could not be broken.

"You think you understand me" you murmured, lifting your gaze. "But you weren’t there."

Nanook tilted his head slightly, waiting.

"You weren’t there when the child who gave me a flower grew sick the next day." Your voice was even, but the words weighed heavy. "You weren’t there when I was chased out of cities for bringing ruin to their gates. When people cursed my name, when I—" You swallowed. "When I tried to stay, only to watch everything fall apart."

A quiet moment passed. The cosmos stretched endlessly around you, golden constellations pulsing like a slow heartbeat.

Then, Nanook spoke.

"And yet, you still sought fragile things."

You looked away. "Of course, I did."

"Why?"

You hesitated. The answer should have been simple. Because they were beautiful. Because even if you had lost everything, for a brief moment, you had been happy.

But saying it felt foolish now.

"Then why are you here?" you asked.

"Because you are mine."

You felt the weight of those words settle deep in your chest.

"If I were truly yours, Nanook," you murmured, "wouldn’t I have gone to you long ago?"

Their lips curved into something almost indulgent.

"You were always coming to me." Nanook lifted a hand, tracing a single golden finger along your temple—not forceful, just a reminder of their presence. "You simply took the longer path."

"If I stay," you said carefully, "I need to know one thing."

Nanook watched you patiently. "Speak."

"Are you keeping me because I interest you? Or because you care for me?"

For the first time, Nanook was quiet.

Not because they didn’t know the answer—no, you could tell that they did. But rather because Nanook understood why you were asking.

"Do you think an Aeon incapable of both?"

You weren’t sure.

But for now, you listened.

------

The journey back was unlike anything you had experienced before.

Nanook did not walk. They did not travel.

Instead, the universe itself bent around them, folding and shifting, until the mortal world disappeared entirely—until there was nothing but golden infinity.

You had always assumed the realm of Aeons was a void of silence and solitude, but now… you realized you were wrong. Well maybe.

Because there were others.

They stood beyond the light, their forms shifting, flickering between shapes that barely registered to your mortal perception. Some resembled human figures, adorned with celestial robes, their faces obscured by divine masks. Others were puppet-like constructs, their limbs moving with an eerie smoothness, as if they existed outside of time itself.

Aeons.

They had gathered here. Just to witness a sight. You and Nanook.

The air in the realm hummed with energy, shifting with unspoken words. The Aeons did not communicate as mortals did, yet their attention was unmistakable.

They were looking at you.

Not with the wary glances of mortals, nor the outright fear you had grown accustomed to.

No—this was curiosity.

A voice, layered and eternal, echoed in the void.

"A mortal…? No. Not quite."

A figure wrapped in deep blues and endless constellations observed you with something akin to amusement. Their presence felt like an ocean of knowledge—one that could drown you if you ventured too deep.

"How strange" another mused. "How fragile. Yet still standing beside the Destroyer."

You stiffened, your hands clenching the cloak Nanook had given you.

Nanook did not react at first. They simply stood beside you, golden light radiating from their being. Unmoved. Unbothered.

Until one Aeon took a step forward.

Unlike the others, this one was smaller, their form shifting between a marionette-like construct and something more fluid, their movements unnatural yet entrancing.

"Tell me, Nanook…" Their voice curled through the air like silk laced with hidden thorns. "What makes this one so… special?"

The moment the words were spoken, a shift occurred.

The golden void around you grew heavier, denser, as if unseen hands had pressed against reality itself.

Nanook did not move, but you could feel it—the silent command, the unspoken warning.

"They are mine."

The Aeons did not challenge Nanook’s claim.

But they did observe.

Their gazes weighed on you, some in curiosity, others in calculation. You could not tell what they saw—what conclusions they drew from your presence beside Nanook.

But you knew this:

You did not belong here.

And yet…

You looked to Nanook.

They stood beside you, their golden radiance unwavering.

You did not belong anywhere else, either.

The weight of the Aeons’ gazes still lingered on your skin long after you and Nanook had left. The journey through the cosmos was not something you could truly comprehend.

One moment, the void stretched infinitely around you, the stars shifting in ways that defied logic. The next, reality bent, and you stood on solid ground.

Except…

It wasn’t solid at all.

You looked down, and the "floor" beneath you was a sea of golden dust, shifting with unseen currents, swirling like sand caught in an eternal storm.

Yet, despite its movement, you did not sink.

Above, the sky was fractured light—not a sun, not a moon, but something vast, illuminating the endless horizon. Floating structures loomed in the distance, remnants of something once grand but now long destroyed, left to drift as ruins across the golden expanse.

The air was not air. There was no wind, no temperature—only Nanook’s presence, filling the space like a constant hum beneath your skin.

This was not a place meant for mortals.

This was their domain.

And you… You were standing within it.

You took a slow step forward, the golden dust shifting beneath your weight, parting as if making way for you.

Nanook observed in silence, their humanoid form beside you as still as the remnants of the world around you.

“…This is your universe?” you finally asked, your voice quiet.

They turned their head slightly, their unreadable golden eyes locking onto you. “It is.”

You exhaled softly, scanning the endless horizon. “It feels…” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “...Lonely.”

"It was."

Was?

You turned to them fully. Nanook simply continued to watch you, their expression unreadable—divine and unknowable, yet something about them felt so terribly certain.

A strange emotion settled between you, unspoken yet undeniable.

You were not sure if you should break it. But you did.

“...Show me more?” Your voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “Of your world?”

Something shifted in Nanook’s gaze.

"Come."

They did not need to take your hand, nor did they need to guide your steps.

And yet, as you walked forward, they remained beside you.

-----

It started as something subtle.

At first, you thought it was simple exhaustion, the weight of everything that had happened, the endless journey through Nanook’s realm, the way the golden dust never settled beneath your feet.

But then… it got worse.

Each day, moving became harder. Your limbs felt heavy, your breath came shallower, the energy that once surged through you was slipping.

And Nanook knew.

They had known before you even realized.

"You are fading."

You felt their touch, felt a hand at your back, another cupping your cheek.

"This universe does not welcome you."

This was Nanook’s domain—a universe meant to be ruled, not inhabited. The very essence of destruction that pulsed through it rejected you. Slowly, surely, it was breaking you down.

And yet, Nanook would not allow it.

"You need me."

The words were absolute. Not a question. Not an offer.

At first, you resisted.

You tried to manage on your own, ignoring the weakness in your limbs, the slow ache in your bones. But Nanook was always there.

And the moment you staggered—just once—their arms were around you, catching you with terrifying ease.

"Enough."

You felt the shift before you saw it, Nanook pulling you against them, their energy pouring into you, wrapping around your very being.

It was intoxicating. Like warmth after a bitter cold, like air after drowning. Like salvation.

Your fingers clutched at them before you even realized it. Your body betrayed you, seeking them, clinging to them.

And Nanook smiled.

"You understand now, don’t you?"

"You are mine. And I will never let you wither."

It became routine.

Each day, Nanook would feed you their energy, keeping you whole. A hand at your nape, fingers ghosting over your wrist, an arm slipping around your waist. Constant.

Every moment, you became more reliant.

Every moment, Nanook tightened their hold.

-----

"I want to go back."

Your voice was quieter than you intended, but the weight of it still hung in the air of Nanook’s realm.

The Aeon of Destruction did not answer immediately. Their form loomed above you. Their fingers, which had been idly tracing the curve of your wrist, stilled.

"You wish to leave me?"

"Not... leave" you corrected quickly, gripping their hand before they could pull away. "Just… visit. A planet. Somewhere familiar. Just for a while."

"You do not understand your place yet."

Their fingers trailed to your chin, tilting it up, forcing you to meet their gaze.

"But you will."

You expected them to refuse.

But instead, light surged around you, and before you could react—

You were falling.

When you opened your eyes, you were standing on solid ground.

The sky stretched endlessly above you, the air crisp and filled with distant voices. A city hummed with life ahead, its streets bustling, its towers standing tall.

It was beautiful.

It was alive.

For the first time in so long, you felt real again.

And yet, the moment you stepped forward, something cracked.

A distant sound. You turned sharply.

Nanook stood behind you in silence.

"Go on" they murmured. "Walk."

You frowned but obeyed, moving toward the city. And as you did, the streets darkened, the lights flickered, the air grew heavier. A ripple of unease spread through the people, their voices faltering, their steps slowing. You barely noticed it at first. But then a single, horrifying scream ripped through the air. Buildings trembled. Glass shattered. A wave of unseen force spread outward, like a silent explosion tearing through the city.

You stopped.

The destruction stopped.

Your breath came fast, uneven. Your hands were shaking. Your presence alone had done this.

"Do you understand now?"

"You were never meant to walk among them."

You turned to them, chest heaving, the weight of reality crashing down on you.

"This is why you will never leave me."

Nanook stepped closer, fingers brushing against your cheek—not cruel, not forceful. Just… inevitable.

"You belong at my side."

Their lips ghosted over your ear, their voice a whisper of divine possession.

"Come home."

And despite everything—despite the fear, the sorrow, the ruin you had witnessed, you did.

Because Nanook was right.

One moment you were still on the planet, the next you were back in Nanook’s realm. You barely had time to catch your breath before warm hands were on you.

"You see now" Nanook murmured, drawing you closer, deeper into their grasp. "There is nothing for you beyond me."

You had fought for so long, fought against the weight of your own existence, fought against the inevitability of Nanook’s grasp.

But now, standing before them, shaken and drained, you felt the exhaustion settle into your bones. You felt the relief of being caught.

Of being wanted, despite it all.

"I have you" they whispered against your ear, their touch firm, unrelenting.

"I will always have you."

The next breath you took was shaky. Nanook’s presence was too much—too close, too overwhelming.

Their fingers traced over your wrist, the touch left an energy that thrummed beneath your skin, lighting your nerves aflame.

"You were made to fit into my hands" they murmured. Heat curled in your stomach at their tone.

Their lips brushed against your temple, soft at first. Then your cheek.

Your breath hitched as you felt their warmth ghost over your skin, testing, savoring. Their grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling you flush against them.

"You need me" Nanook whispered against your pulse, their lips barely skimming it.

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you—leaning into them.

"Say it."

Your fingers curled into their clothes, nails pressing against them in silent defiance. But your body had already surrendered.

"Say that you are mine."

"I’m yours."

The words left your lips barely above a whisper—shaky, breathless.

But Nanook heard.

"Good."

"You belong to me. No one else will ever hold you like this. No one else will ever touch you like this."

You let them guide you, let them mold you into the shape they desired. Let them worship you.

"Mine"

And you accepted it.