#yandere punisher x reader

[genshin-side-piece]

I know this is mainly a Genshin blog, but.... the latest HSR update did things to me.

I'm not the only one thinking that Sunday 1000% has a cage for his darling, right? Like with the way they set that up in the story, I can totally see Sunday keeping his sweet darling all to himself via a gilded cage buried somewhere in private recesses of the family mansion. No one bothers with it or you until Gallagher decides to give Sunday a taste of his own medicine. How better to humble the Oak Family head than to lock Sunday behind the very bars that have held you in and force him to watch you be f*cked within an inch of your life by Gallagher.

[explicit-tae]

ughh I just came back from re reading the cruel intentions drabbleee, I want to see girl dad jungkook so badd

no but girl dad jungkook that just lets her do whatever she wants, whenever she wants against the mc's will

Punishment

Jungkook cannot help but release a sigh - a sigh so deep from his chest that he has to take a deep breath to regain back all of the oxygen he let out. His hands rub at his temples, eyes closing a bit so he can process the words that the young man before him speaks.

“Who…why are you here?”

Jungkook was tired - simple. He was tired of running this empire that was known as Bangtan. Sure, he wasn’t doing it alone. But it was enough to drive his stress levels high. He often had headaches having to deal with the new recruits - all young and determined, but dumb as shit and often made mistakes.

“You can’t keep hurting the men that work for you, Kook.” Yoongi had said to him one day, scolding him with his tone and those feline-like eyes. 

“I-I don’t know what you mean, Jeon-ssi.” the young man murmurs, sitting across from Jungkook as he speaks. He’s obviously nervous, hands trembling in his lap.

“Someone had to have let you on to this job because I sure as hell didn’t!” Jungkook barks, crashing his hand down onto his desk. “I bet it was Taehyung, huh? He always wants to give me his shitty people.”

The last thing Jungkook needed was to deal with more shit - on top of more shit. Over the course of the last few months, he had to pick up the slack of other new recruits. His products were being lost, which meant his money was slowing down (not enough to hinder him, just enough to piss him off) which meant he had clients waiting longer than what they should be.

“I apologize, Jeon-ssi. I should have been more attentive-”

“More attentive to my product?” Jungkook leans forward. On his desk is a brick of what is supposed to be coke sent straight from overseas - what he got was not coke. “Have you ever done drugs?”

The man - boy, he appeared to be in his late teens - shakes his head with wider eyes. 

Jungkook turns his eyes to the surrounding men, all standing behind the one seated across from him. They were all seemingly new, some here longer than others. 

“This is not coke.” Jungkook murmurs. “You were instructed to check the product before handing them millions of my money, correct?”

“Yes, but-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook hisses. “Now what we got is some cheap imitation of fucking coke and I’m down millions of fucking dollars because of you,” Jungkook points at the wide-eye boy. “and all of you,” he waves his arms around to the surrounding men. “who cannot do something so simple!”

Jungkook wants to ask his hyung’s what they do when their men act foolish if he was instructed to not hurt them. His hand itches to strike each and every one of them and he was trying his hardest to be the bigger person.

Jungkook closes his eyes. “Just take a deep breath…” he hears your voice in his mind; so soothing and calm. 

Jungkook opens his eyes and stands. “Tomorrow, you all will be going back overseas and getting me my money back. This,” Jungkook picks up the brick of cocaine - if only it was authentic, and throws it at one man - it hits him in the chest harshly. “is unacceptable.”

The room is silent as Jungkook gives his orders. He doesn’t dismiss them properly and only waves his hands for them to leave. They all scurry off, seemingly throwing one another out the door to be out of the older man's sights.

“I’m proud.”

Jungkook groans again at hearing the voice.

“Jimin.”

“You never add hyung to my name anymore.” Jimin enters the room and behind him, another young recruit. “I’m hurt.”

“Why the fuck is he here?” Jungkook didn’t have time for small talk. “Please…please don’t tell me you fucked up again?”

Jungkook doesn’t have the mental capacity to handle the amount of screw ups everyone has been throwing his way lately. 

“Ji-hu…” Jimin pushes the younger man inside the office. “...tell Kookie,” 

“Don’t call me that.” Jungkook injects. “Speak.” he then says to Ji-hu.

Jimin shuts the door to the office behind him and leans against him. He is always amused when Jungkook is visibly upset.

“I…we may have-”

“May have?” Jungkook quoted. “You may have what? It’s either you did or you didn’t?”

Ji-hu glances away for a moment. “The heist…”

Jungkook groans loudly, crashing against his seat.

“I told Taehyung-”

“As did I.” Jimin nods in agreement before Jungkook can finish his sentence. “These new batches of men we have are completely useless. You all are always fucking up.”

“Don’t we pay you enough, Ji-hu?” Jungkook stands, rounding the desk and stalking his way towards Ji-hu. “You were appointed leader of that heist because I am well aware of your abilities. You let me down like the rest of them.”

Jimin crosses his arms just as Jungkook slaps Ji-hu on the side of his head. He proceeds to do it a few more times, letting out more frustration than necessary on the poor boy - but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t an amusing sight. Jungkook looked more like a father disciplining his child than anything else. 

“I’m sorry, Jeon-ssi-”

“Jimin, where’s everyone else that was on the heist?”

“Outside. Would you like me to get them, Kookie?”

Jungkook glares at his older friend but only nods. 

It took five minutes for the rest of the men to return and now Jungkook decides that, however comical it may be to Jimin, that he had to do what was right to shape these men into where they need to be.

Yoongi would be proud that he wasn’t causing damaging harm to them.

Jungkook swings the belt against the younger mens back, each blow slapping against their skin harshly and leaving a stinging effect each time. 

“I shouldn’t have to beat you all into submission,” Jungkook hisses, slamming down his belt more on the four men. “I don’t even have to do this to my own son!”

Jimin wants to say it was because Jungkook would never hit Jin-seon - who now is a direct carbon copy of his father at the age of 10,  attitude and all. Jin-seon’s behavior is often excused by his father and only corrected by his mother, but knowing how Jungkook was raised, Jimin understands why he allows his son to do whatever he wishes.

There’s a knock on the door that halts Jungkook’s beating to his men. He turns towards Jimin who only shrugs his shoulders.

“Enter.” Jungkook sighs, turning towards the door fully.

The door opens and immediately, Jungkook’s eyes soften.

You widen your own eyes at the four men, all cowering on the ground with welts on their exposed skin. You’re holding a large tray in your arms and you contemplate turning away.

“Appa, look!”

“Jin-ah, appa’s busy-”

Your daughter doesn’t care - she never did. 

Jimin watches as Jin-ah, the small 5 year old girl, runs towards her father who kneels down to bring her into his arms. She isn't fazed by the four men who are forming bruises onto their skin as she had seen this before on accident. “They were being bad so appa had to punish them, baby. No need to worry.” was what Jungkook had told her when she asked why a few men were bleeding all over the place. 

“Eomma and me made lunch!” Jin-ah is excited, her eyes wide with excitement. She had most of the lunch she prepared herself - a complete mess that only a five year old could make - on a tray and insisted that you and she take it to her father. Jungkook would eat whatever concoction Jin-ah made for him, the worst being ramen cooked in coffee and milk because she knew her father liked them.

“I made the tea.” you sigh, stepping into the room. There was no stopping Jin-ah now. “Um,”

You glance down again to the men on the ground. 

“They were being bad, eomma.” Jin-ah says, pointing to the men. 

Jimin cackles at this while you only sigh, wishing Jungkook would try better to not normalize what he’s involved with to the children. 

“Very bad.” Jungkook hugs Jin-ah tighter, peppering her soft cheeks with kisses. His heart swells when his daughter wraps her small arms around his neck.

“Can I banish them?” your daughter asks when she’s releasing her father’s neck.

“It’s pronounced punish-”

Jungkook is interrupted by your stern hiss. “No! You can’t!” you walk over the men who remained kneeling on the ground to place the tray onto Jungkook’s desk. “Let’s go-”

“I wanna stay.” Jin-ah clings onto her father, nails digging into his shirt. 

“Why don’t we all just have a little tea party?” Jimin claps his hands. “Come, Jin-ah, sit on the ground with us.”

Jimin grabs the tea just as Jungkook allows his daughter down. She goes towards Jimin who has set out four glass cups - taken from Jungkook’s liquor cabinet - and into each of the men’s hands. “Pour them their tea, Jin-ah.”

“I-I don’t really drink tea-”

“You’ll drink whatever my daughter serves you.” Jungkook isn’t amused with the lack of respect for his daughter’s hospitality.

“Yes, Jeon-ssi.”

Jin-ah is happy to pour the tea - that barely makes it into their cups and instead is poured on their hands and lap instead. To avoid any reaction from her father, then men remain quiet, dying on the inside at the burns they’ll be receiving. 

Jin-ah sits across from the men and speaks about nonsense - whatever cartoon she’s watched lately and what goes on at her school. You shake your head, turning your eyes to your husband. “Really?”

Jungkook has a soft smile on his lips as he looks at his daughter. “She looks so happy.” he murmurs. “How could I say no to her?”

You cross your arms. “I do it all the time.” you murmur. 

“I remember how small she was when she was first born. I knew she loved me when she didn’t cry in my arms.”

“You cried instead.” you snort, leaning against his desk at the memories of your daughter's birth. 

You suppose it was emotional for Jungkook as he wasn’t able to be there for Jin-seon’s. He was very attentive, determined to witness you during your entire pregnancy. It was astonishing to see  your stomach grow bigger and bigger each month.

“Let’s have another one.” Jungkook winks at you suggestively, jokingly. Though he wouldn’t be opposed. 

“No.” you deadpan and it causes Jungkook to wrap you into a tight embrace. “Dealing with three Jungkook’s is hectic enough. You truly want me to add a fourth?”

Jungkook only snickers, placing his lips at the nape of your neck. He inhales your sweet scent, a familiar scent of home to it.

[unhappy-last-resort]

Delusions (Yandere Simon x GN Reader)

Warnings: smut, worship of the readers body and reader in general, creampie, GN reader, short

A/N: Just a drabble because I was thinking of Simon as one does late night. I'm also waiting for server reset in PGR so I can decide if I wanna pull on the light trails banner or not.

Apologies for any grammar/spelling issues and what not, it's almost 2AM for me

Your soft pants filled his bedroom, your chest rising and falling with each breath, his arms holding your hips flush to his.

Nothing could compare to this moment. You were absolutely divine, a gift from the gods, a blessing to humanity bestowed by the stars, and you, despite being so far beyond him that he could only watch your star trail in awe, you chose him. You chose him over the numerous, beautiful and heroic constructs and humans who stood by your side.

It made him shudder, his eyes almost rolling at the thought. How could anyone not desire you? Who wouldn't lust after such an incredible hero? Just look at yourself. The way you move your body underneath him, the stretch marks along your thighs, your swollen lips parted in ecstasy, your glossy eyes, your mesmerizing voice as you moan so sweetly for him.

He couldn't help but kiss every inch of you he could, studying you like a piece of art. He kissed each scar he could see, admiring them. Perhaps others might find your scars to be blemishes that needed to be hidden, or fixed, but to him they were breathtaking. Not necessarily because he thought the scars were beautiful, but because they gave him insights into you and your story. You don't talk much about your past, not that there was reason to, but still, he longed to know you more intimately than you knew yourself. If only you'd open yourself to him, if only he could climb to your stardom and share the burden with you.

Perhaps if he lulled you to orgasm enough times you would be relaxed enough to let him know you more. He kissed your neck and whispered his admiration of you into your skin as he gently fucked you, holding you closely to him, becoming so engrossed your moans and cries that he nearly forgets his own pleasure.

He could stay like this forever, listening to you whisper his name as you grind against him. He holds your face gently, drinking in your expressions. Each cry you make resonating in his heart and rippling through his mind, overshadowing every other thought and sensation until only you existed.

He would never stop chasing after you, never stop longing for your attention and recognition, he would never stop desiring a level of intimacy that would only belong to you two. He needed your acknowledgement of his efforts and devotion, he needed to hear you say you loved him just as much as he loved you, maybe even more. He needed you to love him back, he needed your attention, he needed you to look at him as something more than a friend. His desires driving him to push in and out of you faster and faster until you writhed and trembled, until his hips stuttered and the tight cord drawn in his stomach snapped as he babbled your name like it was his salvation.

As his hips slow down, you wrap your arms around him and bestow him a kiss filled with so much love he feels himself melt into your body like it was made to hold him.

"Simon..." You whisper breathlessly and his breath is caught in his throat. Your hand cups his cheek and leans into it, kissing down along your wrist reverently.

You watch him lovingly, letting him worship you. Your eyes meet and his heart soars, you look so bewitching like this the sight burns itself into his brain. Slowly, your lips part and he desperately waits for what you're about to say, hoping that you'll tell him those three words he longs to hear. He watches every slight movement you make, enraptured as he watches you swallow, debating whether you should say what's on your mind or not and he gives your hand a slight squeeze of encouragement.

That seems to give you the push you need as you focus on him again and his heart pounds in his chest as he leans in closer to you, needing to hear every word you're about to say.

"Simon, I-"

.

.

.

.

He wakes up, his hair sticking to his skin and the sheets unbearably hot. Simon stares at the ceiling, seeing nothing but blurry shapes as he contemplates what just happened. Humiliation crushes his chest as the stickiness in his hand makes him realize that it was just an intense fantasy and nothing more. He feels like a teenager helplessly pining after a crush and it almost makes him cry.

It was foolish for him to ever think that you could be his, that you'd ever spare him more than a cursory glance and a few words. You may have never said it out loud, but he knows he's beneath you. Someone your caliber would never look his way, but he can't help but keep chasing after that hope, after that dream that one day, one day you might look at him with something more than friendly comradery.

...He should stop entertaining such ridiculous and inappropriate thoughts about you and wash his hands, probably change his sheets too. If you saw him like this, you would be appalled. Shocked that a fellow soldier could be so...so unprofessional. He's already embarrassed himself a few times in front of you, he needs to be better. He needs to improve.

You'll never give him the attention he desires, so he must do what he can to earn it and treat what little you give him with the utmost care and respect.

He needs you, he needs your love and acknowledgement and he'll do whatever it takes to get it. Even if that means sacrificing everything he has.

[diejager]

may i ask what's your thoughts on yandere horangi but like specifically just him (Konig excluded pls and thank you 😂)

Yandere Horangi

Headcanon

Pairing: Yan!Horangi x reader

Cw: yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour, DARKFIC, non-con touching, punishment, forced relationship, tell me if I missed anything. Wc: 694

Horangi’s a cold and sarcastic guy, but Yan!Horangi has the added bonus of being mean and stupidly possessive.

Yan!Horangi could be laughing at something you did, be it a clumsy mistake or something he deemed ridiculous. He confronts you, glaring down at you with narrowed eyes filled with dark intent, something dangerous that has you shuddering, but you can’t talk back to him when he looks so menacing in his get up: mask pulled up to his nose, eyes gleaming under his red-rimmed glass, hood shrouding his face in darkness and his body exhuming death with his simple and minimalistic choice of clothes.

Yan!Horangi is cruel with his remarks, he demeans you, breaks you down for him to build up to something more profitable, more likeable to him. He prefers doing things hands-on, as he’s always done, moving you around as he deems fit, one hand on your shoulder, on your waist or the small of your back, anywhere he can touch you.

Yan!Horangi might be means and degrading, but it’s his way of showing KorTac who you belong to. As stated previously, he’s very physical, he isn’t shy of publicly touching you, manhandling you to his pleasure in front of his coworkers, uncaring of your enflamed and shamed flushed cheeks. He’s not bothered by how embarrassed and undignified you feel, you scratch and hiss, fight him whenever you can. He likes the fight, that feisty gleam in your eyes when you glare at him through your lashes and pouty lips, staring up at him with a subtle tremor.

Despite Yan!Horangi’s usual rough handling, he can be gentle, helpful and insightful. He might help you master or better understand a certain skill. If you have issues with a certain gun, he’d stand behind you, chest flushed to your back, hip to ass and him breathing down your neck. He takes training very personally, he expects you to commit to mind every word, every advice and every compliment, but he knows he’s demanding too much from you. He’s easy to understand, teaching with simple wording and visual cues to follow.

That, however, doesn’t stop Yan!Horangi from punishing you if you do something wrong, pulling you to his room to reprimand you for disappointing him. He has you kneeling before him, hands on your thighs, eyes downcast and lower lip pulled between your teeth. It’s a power play for him, to show you who’s in control in this self-proclaimed relationship he forced you into.

Yan!Horangi treats you as a pet behind closed doors, holding you on his lap, fingers carding through your hair and making you abide to his many rules. He’s finicky about it, easy to anger when you’re not doing things by his book. Although he has a few dozens, he only pushes for a few: don’t let other people touch you; don’t talk to anyone for too long; don’t spend too much time with someone who isn’t him, especially alone; don’t forget that you belong to him; and don’t forget to listen to his words. He’s especially hard on you to let people know that you’re his.

Yan!Horangi doesn’t want to be cared for, he has the money, the strength and the independence to live on his own, learning from his past gambling issues. He wants to care for you, that’s all he truly wants, to love and care for his little pet. Despite his wish to lock you up, to keep you to himself and deprive the world of your presence, he’s whimsically desperate, like a feline marking its possession, he likes when you smile, your crazed gleam when you return from a successful mission with him or another operator.

After all, Yan!Horangi is as in love with you sweet and submissive side, obediently listening to him after he pinned you to the ground, hissing at you, as he’s obsessed with your feral smirk, grinning as you cleave a man in half with a bloodthirsty gleam in your eyes, staring at him. You’re his pretty, pedigree cat, clean and posh, listening to him when he asked, yet bratty when you felt like it.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia

[rotten-pomegranate]

Remember I’m no longer here, this post is on a timer❤️

Warnings: rape, abuse, some starvation

Multiple character images

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

He took you away from everything you love but he still hates it when you misbehave but he makes you hate it more then he ever could

He makes you hate it when your eating plain white rice that occasionally has his cum dripped over it in front of your eyes

He makes you hate it when he just uses you like a sex doll, no loving touches even if it was always against your will at least some times he was gentle

He makes you hate it when he turns on the tv and makes you watch all your old friends moving on from you to the new friend that went missing most definitely by his hand

And most of all he makes you hate it when your punishment is over, when he lets you out, gives you real food and love, makes you regret it more then ever because you know your going to have all you are given held over your head again and again

Characters: Chrollo, kurapika, geto, gojo, all might, deku

[squishy-45]

[You don't need to knock the next time you come in.]

[Yandere Hyperreal!Lee x Reader]

With how close you and Lee have gotten the past ever since the events in the hetero tower, to the point that lee confessed to you being the optimal solution to a problem he refuses to disclose. Even then, despite not knowing what his problem was, you were still happy to know that you've helped him. Given his nature of keeping things.

You've always been respectful of his boundaries. Especially when it came to his personal space. Out of the three constructs, Lee was the one that it took time for you to get close to. For starters, he was a guy, and along with that Lee's personality back then, wasn't exactly the friendliest. You're happy with how things have turned out with them. Yet.. it doesn't lessen the unease when you walked into Lee's room to see pictures with you circled in glaring red. Along with a physical notebook that is out of place in Lee's room.

"He's not here.. I should just leave." You turn around to leave only to end up bumping into Lee by the door frame. He holds you by the shoulders to steady you, rubbing circles on your shoulders. Asking politely as to why you were in his room. "I wanted to ask how you were doing since the recent mission. But, now I'm just wondering about the pictures, and the notebook."

The expression Lee makes is indiscernible. You can't tell how he feels from you asking that question, and that makes you feel uneasy once more.

"Those are my personal observation notes, and for the pictures.. They are just all the pictures we have together with gray raven. I circled you in red since you seem to dislike being in center frame, if anything you seem to dislike being in pictures with us." He answers calmly, then raises a brow.

"Why don't you like taking pictures with us? You seem so adamant on keeping memories of us yet you refuse to be in them. It seems counterproductive if you're not there."

You relax a bit, after hearing his answer.

"I just don't think I look particularly nice in pictures and I'm better at taking them. I like taking pictures of others. Not so much myself really. Unless its a special occasion."

"I see. Then when its my activation date, I'd like for us to have a picture together." He started looking at you as if he found a solution. You laugh a bit at his serious request.

"Sure, if you really want it that much. Should I dress up too? Honestly I was thinking you'd want something else from me."

He sighed at your response. "If it makes you want to take more pictures with me then go ahead." a pause "I do want more things from you, but this is what I want now. Just more memories with you in a tangible form."

The serious response makes you feel sentimental, yet you have another question that needs to be answered.

"I'm wondering what those are, but we'll get there at some point. I'm surprised you're hanging them up however."

You see Lee smile at your response and you can't help but feel strangely relaxed by it. His smile is something you wanted from him outside of the early retirement and reclaiming earth.

"Does it bother you my Commandant? I'd rather not take them down. After all your pictures give me some reassurance."

"Haha, it doesn't. Just surprised if anything. Anyway, got to go and do the paperwork. See you later Lee."

You leave and close the door to go to work. Unbeknownst to you Lee looks at your retreating figure then takes the pictures of you circled in red. Caressing it as if it was you instead.

"I don't understand why you're so surprised by it. I love you after all. My commandant, my solution, my one and only love."

Lee looks at his notebook, while it was initially meant to be observations, it ended up being a way for him to write out his deepest desires and praises of you. Every single little thing about you that he adored and wanted to keep to himself.

That's what he wanted the most after all.

Everything about you to himself and no one else.

The gifts you've given him, have been safely stored away.

He wishes he could keep you safe and hidden away the same.

However he knows that would be met with resistance. So he'll wait until you decide to let him keep you, or if he feels when it's necessary. But for now he'll shadow you to the ends of this life.

Because he hopes one day you will stay with him.

In this room, that you don't need to knock for, since at some point:

He'll lock it so that you'll stay and never leave him.

Authors note:

I wrote this a while ago after spiralling hearing Lee's dorm line. Initially I wanted to write something nsfw but somehow it went to the yandere route instead which was a pleasant surprise. I want to continue this, in fact I have a draft but unfortunately I don't have the time nor the words to write it out. Saving it for my academic papers. I hope you enjoy it even a little.

[carnivorousyandeere]

This is really fucked up but thinking about a yandere taking care of you while you’re having medication/drug withdrawals….

Maybe they’re comforting, patient, heart breaking at the pain you’re in. Don’t worry, they’ll help you through it, love you through it. Their love will fix everything, just try to relax in their arms…

Maybe, secretly… they enjoy the sight of you sick and helpless, feverish and delirious, begging for relief. Maybe it scratches a sick itch deep inside them to watch you suffer. Maybe they enjoy wiping your tears and pressing kisses to your mouth as you cry a little too much.

Or maybe, this is a punishment. You haven’t been behaving well. Fighting, trying to escape, saying things just to hurt your captor’s feelings… maybe they think you deserve the nausea and skull-splitting pain. They brush the side of your face gently, and smile when you flinch away.

Holding the next dose, the next hit as a way to keep you in line. “Say that you love me?” You’re so tired, been fighting so long. You say it. “Say it again.” You say it again, voice hoarse and trembling. “Say it again, like you mean it this time.” You can’t.

[julicity]

And give him some praise too.

[ameliaenya707]

Ahh! I literally can’t, I would love to hear about the ideas you have for yan!shiggy!!! I personally think he would stalk for like months (maybe even years) but then he would get fed up after a while and just straight up kidnap darling in public?? (No one would notice) I’m curious how it would start out though! 👀

-🦢

Ahhh okay! So I'm definitely on board with the stalking. But I also think he likes to play with his food. He turns your life into a litteral horror game. Poor thing, can't even go outside without a fear of being watched. Ominous letters sent to your home, things in your house now turned to piles of dust when you wake up. Messages in blood on your shower wall. Eventually he wouldn't even need to kidnap you. You'd be so scared You'd stay inside your home, and now you're cornerd right where he wants you. I think yan!shiggy doesn't mind breaking his darling and is comfortable with having a mindbroken slave. A pretty little cock sleeve who bends backwards for his every request.

[narrators-journal]

Yandere!Tatsuya headcanons

Got a bit of yanderes on the brain after the Ryusui revisiting, so! The man of the hour gets a bit of a ramble lol. I hope this is coherent, and I hope you all enjoy!

INNOCENT SIN

Yandere!Tatsuya in the context of innocent sin would not be an overt yandere.

You likely wouldn’t heavily notice that you’re on his radar.

Tatsuya would be more like a stalker in innocent sin. Quiet, covert, but always watching you.

Violence-wise, he’s probably one of the least dangerous yanderes in innocent sin. He wouldn’t even be very aggressive to the people he’s jealous of, like lovers or friends.

But! While he’s not likely to maul you or a loved one of yours, he will watch you.

He will also sabotage any partner’s machines. Not likely to the extent of murder, but to the point of fear and paranoia, yes.

Outside of that though, he’s painfully awkward.

That’s why he’s more of a watcher. He’s not likely to kidnap you because he’s pretty shy and uncertain with romance. But, that doesn’t keep him from being a bit of a romantic.

Once he awakens his persona though, kidnap becomes a bit more of a risk.

He’d try to protect you from the masked circle and the joker, it’s well-intentioned, but loose on the consent aspect.

ETERNAL PUNISHMENT

Innocent Sin’s Tatsuya is not very yandere-leaning. It’s Eternal punishment’s Tatsuya that you need to be careful of.

By the time of Eternal Punishment, Tatsuya is a changed man.

Verging into a delusional level of paranoia, with Nova Keiser’s time ability on hand, having already fought god and won once, and potential hints towards the future from Apollo, Tatsuya quickly becomes a yandere you should fear.

By EP, Tatsuya is very okay with kidnapping a darling and hiding them away.

Granted, you would have to give him a reason to be too violent towards you still, but the question of escape goes off of the table.

You wouldn’t be able to run, you wouldn’t be able to fight him, you would be thoroughly stuck.

But, on the bright side, when you aren’t fighting or rejecting him, Tatsuya is still a very loving, awkward, endearing sort of yandere.

He wants a normal, safe life. He’s had enough fighting and anxiety and adventure, he’d want to just settle down and be happy with his darling. So, he wouldn’t be an ass to you unless he felt there was a need.

That being said, it wouldn’t be an easy life with him.

After so much heartache and pain thanks to Nyarlethotep and Philemon, Tatsuya would want to do nothing but hide his darling from the gods as best he could. So, you wouldn’t be allowed to really leave, have friends, work, or do much of anything at a minimum of without him. But, in all honesty, you wouldn’t do anything like that at all.

You’d be absolutely doted on! But also heavily guarded and sheltered away from the outside. You will wish for innocent sin’s Tatsuya as a yandere.

[ddarker-dreams]

alhaitham is arguably one of the most insufferable yans because criminal activity is so much extra work. he'll come home to you, your ankle tied to a bedpost with iron shackles, and sigh about the time spent blackmailing some person who was advancing your missing person's case too much. he's staring at you now. he definitely wants some appreciation for his due diligence. what are you even supposed to say.

[unhappy-last-resort]

Camu drabble

Warnings: non-con, smut

Imagine Camu creeping up behind you just after you finished a mission. It's late and the sky has gone dark, you're too busy staring at the stars to notice how he's looming over you, amethyst eyes carefully sweeping over every inch of your body. He's been wanting to do more with you for a while and now he finally has the perfect window of opportunity to do what he's always wanted with you.

It's too late to stop him by the time he shoves you against a partially broken wall, hands pinned above your head as his free hand roams your body. His hand quickly finding your sensitive areas and stroking/rubbing them as he whispers how good you're doing.

It's not long until your pants and underwear are torn away, his cock thrusting in and out of you like there's no tomorrow, like you're not going to have to walk to the transport craft in a couple hours. Struggling only makes him fuck into you harder, any pleas for him to stop, or slow down falling on deaf ears.

He fills your pretty little hole with his cum again and again until it spills out of you, using you like his personal fucktoy until he can see the transport craft in the distance.

"Ah, there we go. My little Commandant looks much better this way, I think you're suited for this." Camu whispers in your ear as he coats your walls with his purple tinted cum for the last time, pulling out of you and catching some of it with his fingers so you can taste it.

"You took it so well just like I told you, and remember-"

"Not a single peep about this to anyone, got that?"

[atlasscrumpit]

Yander Moon boys x reader punishment ?

A Little Too Far

You were fighting with Marc once again, you were feeling cooped up inside an apartment your kidnapper had forced you to stay in, and Marc was annoyed with your disobedience.

"I fucking hate you!" You screamed as he grabbed your wrist to stop you from running away.

"I'm giving you one chance to apologise, baby." He growled as a warning.

"Fuck off." You hissed back as he threw you onto the floor.

You jumped up and grabbed one of Steven's antique vases and smashed it on the floor.

"I hate all of you! You're monsters!" You screamed as Marc looked at you with utter disgust and anger.

"You little shit, you think it's okay to destroy other people's stuff!" He shouted managing to grab your wrist again.

"You think it's okay to kidnap someone!?" You retorted hitting your other hand against his chest.

He dragged you to the bed and threw you at the foot of it, making you hit your head.

His moon knight suit formed around him as you held your head in pain.

He knelt and white bandages wrapped around your wrists and secured you to the bed frame.

"Stop, you're hurting me." You muttered, feeling dizzy.

"You fucking hurt us, Y/N. You hurt me, you've hurt Steven and Jake can't even fucking look at you." He scolded as you screamed and struggled against the restraint.

"Let me go!" You screamed and screamed until bandages wrapped around your mouth, preventing you from making any noise.

You began to cry from frustration and continued to struggle against the restraint.

"I've warned you so many times, Y/N! We have gone over to rules so many fucking times! Yet you still fucking disobey us!" Marc shouted at you as you flinched and felt tears in your eyes.

Your anger was being replaced with fear.

You looked up at him as he breathed heavily.

"I won't stoop so low as to beat you, but you need some sort of punishment. So, you'll sleep here tonight. At the foot of my bed like the disobedient dog you are." He growled as you glared at him.

You tried your best to kick his feet but you were unsuccessful.

"Wake me up and I might stoop to beating you." He warned before stripping off his clothes and turning off the lights.

You heard him lay down in bed and you tried your best to get comfortable, your legs were already going numb.

But, there were two choices.

Deal with this and be very sore in the morning or annoy Marc and be bruised and bloody in the morning.

You closed your eyes and rested your head against your hands.

--

It was around 3 am and you hadn't slept at all, obviously.

You were in so much pain and you couldn't help but cry.

You tried your best to stay quiet but you heard Marc wake up and only cried more.

His form came into your view as you looked up in fear.

He knelt and you could tell by the softness in his face that it was Steven.

"Love, that wasn't nice what you did and it upset me...a lot." Steven said as you looked down with guilt.

You felt the bandages around your mouth disappear before you looked up.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You whispered, letting your tears fall.

"I'll do anything I can to replace it, I'm sorry. I was angry and frustrated." You whispered beginning to sob uncontrollably and pull against your restraints.

"I didn't mean to wake you up, I didn't mean it, please don't punish me." You sobbed out as Steven looked at you sadly.

Your crying only got worse and Steven could see you were fighting for breath.

The restraints around your wrists disappeared and you pulled your arms towards yourself.

You gripped your head as you panicked, you couldn't draw in a breath no matter how hard you tried.

"Shit, love. Hey, it's okay. Darling, we won't punish you. No one is going to hurt you, you have nothing to be scared of." Steven said as you shook your head over and over.

Marc knew it was best if he took over, he didn't need Steven having a panic attack as well.

"Baby, it's alright. Look at me." Marc said as you looked up at him.

He rested his hand on your leg and made sure to keep his breathing steady.

"You're okay, sweetheart. No more punishment, you were really good for me. I just wanted you to understand that you can't do things like that. Breathe, angel, nice and easy. I'm right here." He whispered gently rubbing his hand up and down your leg as he watched you slowly calm down.

"That's my good girl, nice and easy." He whispered as you reached forward and held onto his hand that was on your leg.

"Don't wanna hurt you, I was scared, I was angry." You muttered, softly rocking back and forth.

"I was a bit harsh on you, wasn't I, love?" Marc muttered shamefully as he squeezed your hand.

"Come to bed, babygirl." He said standing up, you went to stand up but your legs had gone completely numb.

It made Marc feel even more guilty.

"Shh, baby. It's okay." He whispered crouching down to pick you up in his arms.

He gently placed you on the bed and climbed in beside you.

Marc covered you both with blankets before you cuddled into him.

"That's it, angel. Get some rest, I'll take care of you now."

[hiraeth-witch-11]

Billy Russo's "Pet" Part 2

Warnings: Billy Russo, nonsexual forced nudity

Word Count: 1000ish

Your head throbs as you wake. Resting on something warm and soft, the chill has been chased away from your limbs. Nuzzling into the warmth, you inhale the smell of the forest combined with something spicy and a surprising sweetness. 

“I knew you’d like me if you gave me half a chance,” a voice says teasingly, their laughter sending vibrations through their chest and against your face.

You try to jerk away, remembering where you are. Strong arms wrap around you like steel bands.

“Nuh uh, none of that now. I need to get you cleaned up before we have our little chat about how things are gonna work around here. Do you understand?”

You refuse to look at his face as you spit angrily, “You’re insane. Let me go!”

Billy sighs in disappointment, hand reaching up to grip your jaw roughly as he forces you to look at him.

“I don’t wanna hurt you anymore than I have to.” A pause then a sly smile. “Or anymore than you beg me to. Are you gonna listen or am I gonna have to compel you again?”

You flinch at the idea. Everytime he compels you, it feels like your mind and body are not your own. You try to fight it, but it just makes it worse. It’s a horrific feeling, one you would do just about anything to avoid.

“I’ll listen,” you answer quietly. You’re too tired to try and escape again right now. You need to rest and figure out this man’s patterns, his weaknesses. Picking your battles to get on his good side and keep yourself safe. Then you can bolt the second you get another chance. Preferably with shoes this time.

“Good girl, pet.” 

The words elicit a response from you that is not at all controlled by your brain. Of course the creepy monster man had to be sexy. You try to tamp down on your lust and maintain your anger. “I have a name.”

“I’m well aware.” Billy lifts you and carries you into a magnificent bathroom. His entire home was more life a palace than a house. Somehow, he manages to flick on the light while keeping you in his arms. The sudden brightness makes you grimace, eyes closing as the light sends spearing pain throughout your skull. “Sorry, pet. I’ll keep it off.”

You hear the light switch click and tentatively open your eyes. Billy sets you on the edge of the tub, starts the hot water running, and strides over to the cabinet, pulling out a first aid kit.

“I think you have a concussion. We’ll get you all healed up as soon as you’re clean.”

You aren’t sure what he means and you don’t ask, opting to watch him silently instead. It’s hard to read his expression in the dark, not much light has entered the room from the doorway and his face is in the shadows. He kneels in front of you with the kit and grabs one of your feet. You flinch at the contact and he gives you a stern look.

“Sit still,” he orders. Billy peels off the torn sock, stained with dirt and blood, tossing it effortlessly into the trash without looking. Using a pair of tweezers, he efficiently removes the various debris from your cuts before moving to the next foot. Once your feet are taken care of, he examines your palms and temple. Thankfully, there isn’t much to dig out of the egg sized bump on your scalp, just a splinter. The tub is full at this point, tendrils of steam rising off it, visible even in the dim light.

“Strip and get in,” he says as he washes his hands and puts away the kit.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Your clothes are filthy and you are covered in mud.”

“Turn around,” you insist.

“No.” He leans back against the counter, arms folded. You hesitate. “Now or I’ll just compel you. The choice is yours.”

With shaky hands, you begin to remove your clothing. Once he sees that you are complying, he surprises you by looking away and busying himself with pulling several fluffy white towels out of the cabinet and setting them by the tub.

You step into the tub on limbs rubbery with exhaustion and hold back a groan at how good the heat feels on your sore muscles. The tub is so large that even with several inches between the water level and the rim, you are already chest deep in water. Bringing your knees up to your chest, you wrap your arms around your legs in an attempt to preserve your modesty.

Billy startles you once again by seemingly appearing out of thin air right next to the tub. Maybe your observational skills have declined because of the sheer stress of being kidnapped and chased. In his hand is a white washcloth. You tense as he makes slow, obvious motions. Dipping the cloth into the water and carefully pressing it against the skin of your shoulder. 

He’s surprisingly almost clinical about it, not necessarily because it seems unfeeling, but more because it’s thorough and not sexual in the slightest. Billy wipes the dirt from your shoulders, back, arms, calves and feet, leaving the rest of your body to you. He takes special care as he grabs a fresh washcloth and cleans your face. You can feel the sensation of drying blood on your scalp and your fingers itch to reach up and start scratching your scalp until the blood and mud are gone. It’s an irrational urge, one you are all too familiar with, and you breathe a sigh of relief when Billy instructs you to tilt your head back.

With one hand against your forehead to protect your eyes, he pours warm water over your hair until it’s thoroughly wetted. Then he douses it in shampoo and rubs his fingers into your scalp. You can’t remember the last time someone washed your hair for you. You'd almost forgotten how good it felt.

Billy seems pleased with your reaction as you allow yourself to relax into his touch. He rinses the soap from your hair and conditions it, before repeating the process. You finally feel clean. Something that shouldn’t be so important to you in this situation, but is.

“Up,” Billy instructs, holding out a large towel. You cautiously allow him to wrap you in it and towel off your hair with a second, smaller towel.

“Good pet, you behaved so well for me. Now we can talk.” Billy grins widely, elongated canines fully on display. The look of a predator.

*******

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglists, feel free to tell me!

Series list: intothesoul, sweetserendipity65

Billy Russo Taglist: @snowkestrel, happydeanpotter, jvanilly

Everything Taglist: @kayhi808,

[azulsluver]

Jamil convinces (or hypnotizes) Kalim's darling to cheat on Kalim with him. But Jamil organizes it so Kalim finds out. Jamil then shifts the blame on Y/N where he convinces Kalim that manipulative darlings deserve to be punished

This is my first ask of reader cheating. Salivating

Getting caught in the act of smothering your kisses to another, and in yours and Kalim's shared bedroom! He's heartbroken, tears and snot on his face as he has the person escorted out. Jamil is by his side, as usual, with a frown on his lips and a shake to his head. You stoop this low to hurt the only person who supported and loved you. The one you were willing to marry, tsk tsk.

Kalim doesn't notice how shallow your eyes are, trying to defend yourself that it isn't what it looks like and that you love him! Jamil can barely contain the smirk on his face, a hand covering his lips as he whispers into Kalim's ear on how such disrespect cannot go unpunished. Make an example out of you, bad darlings shouldn't go around kissing others, they should learn to appreciate and respect those who provide a roof over your head.

Kalim will strain his sniffles, fury boiling inside with every word being praised into his ear. You're using him, but he loves you, so he must train you to not make this mistake again, or seeing the outside world will no longer be a privilege.

ahh Jamil suggesting you get punished by humiliating you in front of Kalim's court party. Tell him that you're sorry, bowing to his feet and grasping his pants as you beg him to not throw you out of the streets. Or, Jamil can use a golden paddle to spank you! Kalim will be there to soothe your crying, telling you it's for the best and that you have to learn, repeating this cycle until you can no longer sit properly and promise them you won't ever betray his trust again.

[starryficsfinishwen]

[pgr] bloodbath ⋄ roland drabble

you never believed in Jesus Christ until he rose from the vermillion liquid—a baptism in the age of death.

roland x f!commandant

I have a headcanon roland keeps roses because he's dramatic™

content: a bit yandere roland,,,shikikan is oc and has different constructs

word count: 2,104 (I swear it was originally a drabble)

Roses.

One would think that roses were common, yet, in a world devoid of any type of life, it would be a miracle to find any traces of natural flowers that bloomed in the Golden Age. They all disappeared when the virus broke out. It would be finding a needle in a haystack if one attempted to; it was hard to find one. Let alone the roses you found on your doorstep one day.

That's right—a rose.

You've never seen one in real life before. The ones you've seen at the observatory were either replicants, or if they were real, they would be plucked and dissected for educational purposes. However, from the looks of the flower that you held in your hand that day—they were true. This was a real rose indeed.

How soft, how peculiar. How one touch of the petals felt unnaturally cool to your fingertips, unlike holograms. How the thorns felt so real that you were sure they would prick your skin if you put too much pressure on it. No doubt, the one who picked it out was a connoisseur of illegal means; yet, like how small it was, a voice at the back of your head was suddenly telling you a warning.

You paid no mind to it, though. It took a lot of convincing for your constructs to pay no mind to it. There were no traces of malice, no traces of evil means.

So, you kept it, thinking it wouldn't come back. Until it would be at your doorstep once a week.

Sometimes, they were the size of your fist. The other day, it was a tiny, little bud. The number of roses that was at your doorstep grew from one to ten. Then, it became a neatly packed bouquet.

Surely, this was a prank. But whoever was planning it was starting to become a menace—who was it? What was their target?

Suddenly, a chill ran down your spine as you saw there was finally a piece of paper neatly tucked between one of the roses' petals. Coordinates. Ones that lead to a city infested with the punishing virus.

The corrupted were mindless creatures unless they sensed life like yours. But— (this time, your mind went blank).

Who would know? With the rapid evolution of the virus, it wouldn't be a surprised if the corrupted grew a brain. Yet, an ominous feeling washed over you again.

You threw the bouquet on the same day.

One day, you and your constructs find yourselves in the vicinity of the corrupted-infested city. Exhausting your strengths, all of you take shelter at one of the abandoned buildings.

❝Are you alright?❞ the leader of your team asked. His frame was battered, vital fluids splashed onto his body. Luckily, his inver-device was unscathed.

❝Capt.,❞ his second-in-command, who mirrored the leader's appearance, nervously called out, ❝Alfred is the one who got hit the most.❞

Alfred, the new one in your team, had the worst shape amongst the team. You became the buffer from preventing him to be infected further.

❝Commandant,❞ he weakly spoke your title, languid hands trembling from the pain, ❝I'm sorry I couldn't protect you much...❞

❝No,❞ you softly spoke, aiding your second-in-command as he administered first aid, ❝I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have let you retreat early.❞

❝I've tried contacting for back-up, but there's still no response.❞ The leader evidently sighs, weary eyes skimming over his comrade and the device in his hand.

❝Can Alfred still hold on?❞ He added, looking over the medic.

❝I can,❞ a loud groan came out of Alfred's mouth, ❝you should look over commandant.❞

You were barely wounded at all. It was all of your constructs who did all the heavy work—it made you shiver.

❝I'm fine, Alfred, you should save your strength.❞

At first, it may look like it was all of their efforts to continuously protect you. However—it didn't seem like the case. It seemed more like...there were instances where the attacking force was more interested in aiming for the constructs rather than you.

❝Do we have enough supplies?❞ You asked when the silence overtook you all apart from the short groans of Alfred.

❝We don't have much left...❞ the second-in-command paused, ❝the bag broke while we were running away.❞

❝I'll go look for supplies, then.❞ the leader stood, slipping the comms back to his pockets, ❝everyone should stay here.❞

❝I'll join you.❞ You pipped, but was cut off by the leader,

❝No, you should stay here, commandant. You need to stay safe.❞

❝I know you mean well, Paul, but it's okay. I can manage myself.❞ You looked at Paul, the leader, before looking at your second-in-command, ❝Alan needs to look over Alfred.❞

Paul nervously shifted, ❝but—❞

❝It's okay, I swear.❞

Truth be told, other than supplies, you wanted to investigate. There was something so strange about the city and the happenings. You would rather keep your comrades safe, so you decided not to tell them of your thoughts.

You and Paul were walking around, failing to find anything that would be useful to you. It took a while, before finding a corner with two corridors. Both of you decided to split up.

❝Come back and call for me if you need help, commandant,❞ Paul said as you patted him on the back before parted ways.

❝It won't be long,❞ you nodded, ❝I'll come back.❞

Paul called out when you turned your back on him, ❝Commandant.❞

But you never looked back. Instead, your blood ran cold when a familiar item was glued to the wall.

❝You better watch your back.❞

A single red rose was on the wall.

And then, the world turned black.

The Golden Age was an era when technology flourished.

A new life, a new world. A coexisting world where humans and technology would live together. Machineries and advanced technology made life easier. Yet, the very same technology that built the world tore it apart so easily.

Thanks to that, the natural course of the world became chaotic. In the dying age of life, where sunlight was artificial and the water was unlike the ones at Earth, you lived.

Yet, you believed that life could still exist on the once-blue planet that your ancestors once lived on. Yet, you were certain your death would happen at the same place they died, too.

When you opened your eyes, the faint light of a fluorescent bulb blurred your vision. You couldn't move your legs nor your arms. It took a while before you realized you were on a makeshift bed. Sudden pain erupted in your head which made you wince when you sat upright.

Where were you? Was your team alright?

Not long, your memories of what happened earlier came back, and an unspoken rage for Paul—or whoever was brainwashing him—seeped through your skin and bubbled.

You took careful but fast steps as you bolted out of the room. Whatever opening you saw, you decided to take it just so you can at least find an exit. Safety and survival had to be certain—otherwise, Babylonia would never honor your name.

Somehow, as you ran, it felt like a hundred gazes were on you. Your body felt stiff, but you persisted. Until you came across a door.

A dead end. But why would she give up if she was a step closer to freedom?

You opened the door. But what greeted you was something that you never expected.

White-tiled floors. Bright lights. A crimson bathtub.

You believed in no god. Gods abandoned earth and humanity when the virus broke out. Jesus Christ left the world so many years ago. If there was one, then they must have enjoyed drinking in the miseries of those left behind.

But—there could be another.

The next second you blink, the water in the bathtub has ripples. A gentle, soothing kind, that you never realized the door closed as you took a step back.

And then a thought crossed your mind—Jesus Christ. An entity of man, believed to be the one who walked on water and brought life to those who were dead. And suddenly, you find yourself in his vicinity when the blood bath parted.

You never believed in Jesus Christ until he rose from the vermillion liquid—a baptism in the age of death.

Golden eyes that were intensely staring at you the moment you stepped inside the room. His lips parted, as if saying something, but only viscous vermillion poured out. Your back, out of shock, hits the closed door. Snapping out of your trance, you panic and began to shake the jammed door handle. Warning signs flash through your head as you felt the punishing virus concentration rise from normal levels to explosive ones.

You were certain: an Ascendant.

❝Commandant,❞ his voice was a lower octave, which made a chill run down your spine, ❝I've been waiting for you since.❞

Words died on your throat before you could speak. This was the first time you met such a person, never once in your missions did you encounter this spiked punishing level. You trembled under his gaze as he rose from the tub and slowly stepped out.

❝Did the cat catch your tongue, dear?❞ the pet name rolled out of his tongue so easily. You should be disgusted, but for some reason, you became enthralled.

❝Y-You-❞ you tried to choke out an accusation, but the words disappeared as soon as he approached you. The man was so close to you, you could barely breathe.

Another warning sign flashed through your head as he reached out to cup your chin. His pensive eyes continued to stare you down, which made you shrink in your suit.

❝Hm? Yes, it's me. It's been a while.❞

He called you by your name. A name you never shared so easily with anyone unless—

❝Who are you?❞ You cried out, ❝What do you want?❞

❝Oh,❞ a split second, his face fell, but the next, he grinned so sweetly. ❝I'm quite surprised.❞

❝Do you really not know me?❞ he added, a hint of mischief and snark in his eyes, ❝I thought you enjoyed my gift?❞

Gift? What gift?

Your eyes widened as he laughed, the shaking in your body no longer contained. The flowers that you received made sense; it all came from this stranger.

❝I guess you don't remember, I'm a bit appalled.❞ He chuckled, before using his spare hand to caress your cheek. You can make out the faint smell of vital fluid, and you remember your comrades.

❝Don't worry,❞ he bitterly smiled as if reading your mind, ❝you've always been like this. Nothing changed, hm. I didn't hurt them; they were simply my pawns from the beginning.❞

His silver hair, dripping with the fluid. Deranged yet pensive golden eyes that watch you squirm under his control. The dark clothes that made you believe he was a priest—you wished you worshipped more before crumbling into the hands of the virus that took away your future.

❝Let me go,❞ you choked out, ❝please.❞

His touch was gentle, but his amusement was thriving off of your fear. Using his thumb, he traced your bottom lip.

❝And let you escape again? I wish not to do that anymore. You have no idea how many times I've tried to return you to me.❞

❝What do you want anyway?❞ Your fear seemed to have kept you grounded, even if this man was scaring you to death.

You believed you weren't special. You never graduated with latin honors, you had flimsy comrades, and your performance wasn't always exceptional unlike that commandant of the Gray Ravens. But somehow, this man was so interested in you.

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. ❝Want is merely something I would use in our situation.❞

Kind. Gentle. Two words that seemed to sum up his touch to you. An unspoken silence passed by the both of you, before he pulled out something from his inner pockets—a rose.

The same ones you've seen for weeks.

❝I do want you, (name), yes. But our promise is more than "want" here.❞

❝What are you-❞

Secured by the thorns, a glint caught your eye. At first glance, it was like a trick of light, but then you noticed it was—

❝I need you, (name).❞

How was it possible to hear your name spoken so softly and with reverence, despite the situation.

❝I, Roland, am here to fulfill the promise we created from our youth.❞

Your blood ran cold.

A smile graced his lips, but the scream that curled in your throat was choked.

❝I am never letting you go again this time, (name).❞