#yandere spite

[yandere-sins]

Yandere!Lucanis who tries so hard not to let the "urges" get out of control. He's been fighting his inner demon so long, he thinks he got them perfectly wrapped up, even though he has to bury his nails in his palms until they draw blood just to be able to talk to you fairly normal.

Yandere!Spite who is absolutely not having it. Who the fuck is Lucanis to deprive Spite of being with you? Spite wants to talk to you, be seen by you, touch you—and he'll pull all the strings to get just that. Lucanis can't hold him back forever. Spite knows the way Lucanis holds himself back and if Spite just keeps chipping away at that resistance, he's sure he can get his way sooner rather than later.

In short, I am not that far yet with these two, but the thought had to come out after seeing Spite being a bit obsessed intrigued with Rook.

[ibahibut]

Make you mine

[hawkinshorror94]

About a yearish ago, I wrote a piece called Obsession. It's a yandere Connor (from DBH) and now I want to do the same for Spite.

Spite who is obsessed with Rook, flooding Lucanis's thoughts with salicious images of their leader nude.

Teeth

Tongue

Nails

Pain

Obsession

"Rook is my favoriteee"

When Spite sleep walks he plants Lucanis outside Rook's door, listening. Were they asleep, pleasuring themselves, he didnt care, he listened?

And poor Lucanis is just trying to love Rook while Spite wants to be rough and possesive with them. Maybe he calms down a bit after Spite is finally able to get a taste of Rook or maybe it gets worse. Because now he's had them, he's ruined them and he wants more.

While Rook and Lucanis sleeps, Spite watches Rook. So close that if Rook were to open their eyes Spite's would have Lucanis's face pressed inches from theirs. So close that when he breaths out, they breath it in. His eyes unblinking and fixed on them.

Oh and when no one is around that spectral demon bastard is sniffing Rook's underclothes. Nose pressed into the fabric, a tentative tasting the fabric, tasting Rook.

"Smells like Rook"

I wish I could stop writing men as obsessed fucking freaks. Alas, it's my character flaw.

[inubaki]

Possessiveness (SwitchAu)

An Omegaverse Au in which Heaven blames the omega human Adam for ‘tempting’ the omega Lucifer. As Adam is the one marked, he’s the damage they discard first. Demanding for Lucifer to right the wrongs of disrupting the human legacy, forbidden from both Heaven and Hell till he can for fills his ‘duties’ as an omega himself.

As the one marked and discarded, Adam feels every intimacy Lucifer has and every birth. Each betrayal sinking him into a state of madness and resentment.

And as the humans begin to fall to hell, Adam slowly builds his empire on spite and force of will. Lacking the might of a natural angel and the authority of an alpha, Adam has to learn to use his body and mind to maintain his dominance.

The sins are birthed by him through an attorney announced every two hundred years by whom ever can win his challenge. Lucifer’s claim makes the process agony, each conception worse than the last. But Adam relishes in the pain as a defiance for the angel he blames his banishment upon. Even if the next union and birth could kill him.

When Heaven finally allows Lucifer to visit Hell it’s just in time for 7th and final grand attorney.

Lucifer is very much a yandere in this which is what drew Heaven’s eye to begin with. He’s rendered human while on earth but refuses to allow Lilith to bite him even when birthing the children.

He lives as a human for nearly 800 years before finally dying, outliving far pass expectation. (Or so they say). And even then Heaven is reluctant to allow Lucifer to see Adam. But as God’s favorite and Devil’s games going around again for the final heir, surely Lucifer can finally abandon his claim. Surely.

——

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Uuuuh…

…Hi :D

…I’m sorry? 🥲

——

——

One day, a man realized he felt haunted for some time..

For weeks, the man had been aware of a presence that lingered on the edges of his awareness, like a shadow just beyond his reach.

It was subtle at first, a faint prickling on the back of his neck when he walked through the town, the sensation of being watched when he was alone in his study.

He brushed it off, passing it off as paranoia, the result of long hours and late nights.

But the feeling simply grew.

Growing stronger with each passing day. It was as though a pair of eyes were always on him, observing his every move.

He would catch a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a glimpse of a small figure darting into the shadows, but when he turned to look, there was nothing there. Just the empty street, bathed in the dim glow of lanterns.

He told himself it was nothing, just his imagination running wild. But the sensation was relentless.

It was preventing him from getting anything done.

He had an..appointment with the Trader yet he simply couldn’t make the visit with these unseen eyes following him.

In the following days, He began to see the figure more frequently—a young boy, always at a distance, always watching.

The boy never approached, never spoke. He was just there, a silent observer on the edge of the man's life.

The man, of course, tried to ignore it, tried to carry on with his routine as if nothing was wrong.

He continued his day work, and indulged in his hobbies, but the boy was always there, a constant, silent observer.

Sometimes, the man would feel the boy's eyes on him when he was at his most vulnerable, in the dead of night, when he was alone with his thoughts.

He would feel the gaze boring into him, cold and unyielding, as if the boy could see through everything he presented to the world.

As the days turned into weeks, the man's unease deepened. He started avoiding places where he had seen the boy, changing his routine to shake the feeling of being watched.

But it didn’t help. The boy seemed to anticipate his every move, always appearing wherever the man went.

It was almost as if he was toying with him. Yet he didn’t do anything besides observe.

The man’s nerves began to fray. He found himself glancing over his shoulder constantly, his heart racing at the slightest sound.

His sleep became restless, plagued by nightmares where the boy was always there, watching, waiting.

The feeling of being watched never left.

One night, after a particularly long day, the man stumbled out of a tavern, the alcohol dulling his senses.

He wandered out of town, seeking the quiet of the forest to clear his mind.

But even there, among the towering trees and the thick fog, he couldn’t escape the boy’s presence. He saw a flash of green in the distance, heard the faint rustle of leaves

The man shook his head.

But the fog seemed to thicken, wrapping around him like a shroud.

The moon offered no light, plunging the forest into a darkness that made even the shadows just a foot away from him feel solid and endless.

He stumbled forward, trying to push past the fog, trying to escape the oppressive silence.

His thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and fear. The alcohol in his system dulled his senses, making it difficult to think clearly, but the feeling of being watched had never been more intense. The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees looming like dark sentinels, their branches twisting into unnatural shapes that clawed at the sky.

He tried to focus, tried to convince himself that it was just the drink, that there wasn’t anything really there, but the sensation of those unseen eyes was impossible to ignore. He could feel them, cold and piercing, tracking his every movement.

The man’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent a fresh wave of terror through him.

As he stumbled deeper into the woods, the fog grew thicker, swirling around his feet and obscuring the ground beneath him.

The trees seemed to shift in the darkness, moving closer, as if conspiring to trap him. His footsteps echoed eerily in the silence, the sound of his own heartbeat loud in his ears.

He tried to steady himself, muttering under his breath. “It’s just… just the fog… just the drink… nothing more… nothing…”

But even as he spoke, he could feel those eyes. They were closer now, more intense.

He could almost hear the boy’s silent footsteps behind him, could almost feel the cold breath on the back of his neck. He spun around, but there was nothing—just the oppressive fog and the dark outlines of trees.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a flash of green, a pair of eyes staring at him from the shadows. The man froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins.

The eyes were fixed on him, unblinking and full of something he couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t malice, but it wasn’t benign either. It was as if the boy was studying him, dissecting him with those cold, eerie eyes.

Panic seized him. He stumbled backward, tripping over a root and nearly falling. His breath came in short, frantic gasps as he struggled to tear his gaze away from those eyes, but they held him captive, paralyzing him with fear.

The man’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening, but the alcohol and the terror clouded his thoughts.

With a burst of adrenaline, he turned and ran, pushing blindly through the fog, desperate to escape those eyes. His feet pounded against the earth, his breath ragged and harsh in his throat.

The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees becoming a blur as he sprinted through the undergrowth. But no matter how fast he ran, the feeling of being watched never left him.

He could still feel the boy’s eyes on him, could still hear the faint sound of footsteps behind him. He didn’t dare look back, didn’t dare slow down. But the forest was unforgiving, and the fog made it impossible to see where he was going.

His foot caught on something—a root, a rock, he couldn’t tell—and he went down hard, the ground rushing up to meet him.

He hit the earth with a thud, the air knocked out of his lungs. Pain shot through his body, and for a moment, he lay there, stunned and disoriented. His mind screamed at him to get up, to keep running, but his body refused to move, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion.

Why were they after him?

What did they want?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it. He had to keep moving, had to—

A soft hum pierced the silence, echoing through the fog. The man froze, every muscle tensing as his eyes darted around, searching for the source.

Noise came again, closer this time, followed by a voice, light.

“He’s getting tired, isn’t he?” the voice commented.

“Of course he is,” another voice chimed in, this one colder, more detached. “They always do.”

The man’s breath hitched in his throat as he tried to locate the speakers.

But the trees were too thick, the darkness too deep.

He couldn’t see them, but he could…could feel their eyes burn his skin.

Closing in, circling him like vultures.

He scrambled to get up, but pain in his calf erupted when he tried to pull his leg forward, the pain pinning him in place.

“Going somewhere?” the voice spoke out.

The man’s heart nearly stopped as he looked over his shoulder and saw them—four boys.

Other than their clothes from what he could spot in the dark, they were identical in every way, the same tousled hair, the same wide eyes, the same faces.

But their eyes… their eyes were wrong, wrong for any child to wear. The way their faces held such different expressions.

They stared at him, casually, sadly, uncaringly, angrily.

“Wha—what…?” the man stammered, his voice shaking as he looked down and saw thick branch sticking out of his leg, keeping him in place.

Children…

…Children had been chasing him this whole time.

This…

This was utterly ridiculous.

Yet one of the children, the green one, crouched down, resting his chin on his hands as he studied the man with curiosity. “You look surprised,” he said, tilting his head. “What, did you expect someone…older?”

The man’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

His mind was reeling, unable to process the horror before him. How could this be?

How could four children—siblings from the looks of it-be the ones who had been hunting him?

Was this some kind of joke?

“Trying to figure out what’s happening? It won’t matter in a moment.” the cold voice asked, its owner, the purple one, stepping closer.

His uncaring eyes held an eerie calmness that made the man’s skin crawl.

“But to give you some insight, We’ve been following you all night,” He added, looking down at the man with a wide closed smile. “…as well as the past month…lots of hard work…” He brought a hand up and tapped chin while looking up.

“But I guess it’ll be worth it.” Looking back down at the man. “I suppose this is all unexpected for you, isn't it? Being the one chased? Not the chaser?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward for a second before returning to its neutral position, “You always were fond of that part of your hunting hobby, weren’t you-the chase I mean.”

The man shook his head violently, confused, his breath coming in panicked gasps. “Please… I don’t… I didn’t do anything to you…”

The air around them became heavy. The man’s breath quickened as he felt the weight of the boy’s gaze, each step the boy took toward him making his heart pound harder.

“You think we don’t know about you?” Blue snarled, his voice low and seething with anger. “You think we haven’t heard what you’ve done? The lives you’ve taken?”

The man’s eyes darted between the four boys, each one staring at him with a level of focus and cold calculation that seemed impossible for children. The realization that they knew something about him—something dark and hidden—sent a shiver down his spine.

“I— I swear,” he stammered, his voice trembling with fear. “I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

“Well, you’re right about that.” Vio’s expression darkened as he stepped forward, his dagger gleaming ominously in the dim light. “Enough of this. We’re not here to listen to your excuses.”

The man tried to pull away, desperation clawing at his insides, but the pain in his leg kept him pinned to the ground. He could feel the cold earth beneath him, the dampness seeping into his clothes, mixing with the sweat of his fear.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just… just let me go.”

Green knelt beside him, his face inches away from the man’s. “Anything?” he repeated, his voice soft and sweet, like a child asking for a treat. “Anything at all?”

The man nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face as he grasped at the faint hope that they might spare him. “Yes! Anything! I’ll give you whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me.”

The boys exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, Red sighed and looked down at the man with a mixture of pity and disdain.

“You misunderstand,” he said quietly. “This isn’t about what you can give us. It’s about what you’ve tried to ruin for us.”

The man’s eyes widened in confusion and terror. “Ruin? I… I don’t understand…”

Blue’s anger flared again, his small hands clenched into fists. “Of course scum like you wouldn’t understand,,” he hissed. “I wish we could take our time with you.”

“There will always be others Blue.” Vio said calmly.

Blue scoffed.

Without another word, Vio moved smoothly, his dagger flashing in the pale light as it cut through the air. The man’s choking filled the silent forest, a raw, desperate sound that faded into the night as quickly as it had begun.

——

——

Four had never thought of himself as someone who was good at pretending.

What was the point? He wasn’t one for hiding and faking his thoughts.

But the moment he woke up to the sounds of his Grandfather calling him…

Far away from the others..

From Her…well…

He quickly learned the value of simply….playing his part.

If asked, he would reminisce about exactly what had happened on his journey.

The festival, the sealed chest being opened by Vaati, Zelda being turned to stone…

Ezlo…

Yet…what he would not have mentioned was that it was as if he had been guided along by his memories like a doll.

Seeing from someone else’s eyes.

Every single step already having been done once before, his expression perfectly suiting each moment.

The perfect actor.

He would have hated it if he had felt much of anything during that time.

He could not split (why couldn’t he split? He was One but not Whole, Singular when he should have been perfectly fragmented…whycouldn’thesplit-)

Yet, it was as if his colors still whispered in his mind, each one speaking their own thoughts on the matters happening.

But he hated them…(they weren’t right. They didn’t fit. They should have surged forth, demanding for him to split, demanding that he faced what he pushed aw-nothing was right…nothing was utterly right…)

‘This is an illusion.’

‘This shouldn’t be real.’

‘Where are the others?’

‘Where is She?’

(Shut up….shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup-)

Even Ezlo, perched atop his head in the form of a hat, never noticed anything wrong.

Or perhaps he had…perhaps he had seen it all yet merely ignored it.

Link didn’t care to know.

To Ezlo, Four was simply a dedicated boy, focused on his tasks, eager to right the wrongs that had brought Ezlo to where he was.

But Vaati…

Such a keen eye….

Even in his corrupted form, saw through the masks he presented to everyone.

The dark sorcerer couldn’t quite place what was different, but during a moment when Ezlo and him were purposely separated (such a change to what he once remembered…), he had admitted that something about Four unsettled him.

And also intrigued him.

Perhaps it was the way Four’s eyes seemed to glaze over when he wasn’t speaking, or how his actions were too precise, too controlled—as if they were rehearsed. Or simply like a puppet on a string.

To be moved along as intended.

Even when the journey came to an end and Four and Ezlo said their goodbyes, Four’s performance never faltered.

He smiled to those he cared for, nodded, and spoke the right words, playing his role to perfection.

It was the only thing that made sense. (Because it meant he didn’t need to focus on what he-…)

This was all…so confusion. (WhatcausedthisHewantedtogobackWhatcausedthisWhatcausedthisWhatcausedthis-)

And beneath the surface, the whispers of his colors grew louder, more insistent, questioning, doubting.

(But they weren’t there. Not yet. So he ignored those voices made from illusions. Voices who should have been there already but weren’t-)

He felt empty.

A doll who played his part.

Even when he wanted to silence the loud voices that tried to speak to him when he left the house.

Even when he was touched or tugged by others. (Their touch causing his skin to crawl, their voices making him desire to claw off his ears.)

Yet the world seemed to finally deem his performance in his role to be enough for a reward.

His precious sword…

It wasn’t until he regained his Four Sword that he felt anything at all. (Because it was always his. Not even the others could deny such a fact. It was his sword. HIS. It was what made him exactly as he should be. And it’s been so..so..long since he felt right…)

As he drew the blade, the world shifted, and the sob that escaped him as he felt the Magicks invade his being and pull him apart was one of relief.

He could feel it as it happened, as he split into his four selves…

Red, Blue, Green, and Vio.

The relief of feeling something, of being something that wasn’t singular, was enormous.

He would have even gladly accepted agony if it meant his being was put to rights.

Yet once he was no longer One but Four…

He couldn’t deny what he had rejected for so long…

Almost immediately, the fragments began to lash out at one another, voices raised in anger and accusation.

“It’s your fault she’s gone!” Red shouted, his eyes wild with desperation as tears flowed immediately.

“She wouldn’t have wanted to stay away if you hadn’t been so careless!” Blue snapped back, his fists clenched.

“Stop it, you two! We need to focus on the most important issues here” Vio’s voice was cold, but his hands trembled as he gripped his sword.

Each one was desperate to place the blame elsewhere, to find some semblance of control in the chaos that had consumed them.

They wanted something else, someone else, to be the reason things went wrong…

They didn’t want it to be them.

Red sobbed, his eyes wild with desperation, tears streaming down his face. His small hands trembled, clutching his sword as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded.

Blue’s expression twisted with fury as he turned on Red, his fists clenched tight, the knuckles white. “Don’t blame me for your own mistakes” he spat, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and hurt. “You were supposed to make her happy, and you failed! You should have been better!”

Red recoiled at the words, but his sorrow quickly turned to defiance. “Me? You were the one who pushed her away when it mattered! You should’ve been better, should’ve done something to ease her heart! But you didn’t!”

“You don’t know that! None of us do!” Green’s voice cut through the argument, sharp and defensive, though there was a wavering uncertainty in his tone.

He stood between them, trying to play the mediator, but his hands shook as he spoke, betraying his own doubts. “We don’t know what really happened! We don’t know if—”

“If she’s even still alive?” Vio finished, his voice cold and cutting. The words hung in the air, heavy and unbearable. Vio’s grip tightened around his sword, his usually composed demeanor cracking under the weight of his own fears. “We need to focus on the most important issues here,” he said, his tone forcibly calm, but the tremor in his hands belied the control he tried so desperately to maintain.

“No!” Red cried, shaking his head violently, his tears falling faster. “S-She’s alive! She has to be! We can’t give up on her!”

“Red, you’re being naive!” Blue snapped, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. “You saw what happened, heard what…what (y/n) said to us… Do you really think she’ll just come back to us? That she’ll stay with us after what we did?”

Green hesitated, caught between the two sides, his heart torn. “But…what if we’re wrong? What if she’s waiting for us? What if we can still fix this?”

Vio’s eyes darkened as he turned away from them, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t just about what we want anymore. It’s about dealing with the consequences of what we’ve done…of what we failed to do.” His gaze flickered toward the others, cold and sharp. “We need to be realistic. We can’t keep chasing after dreams when reality is staring us in the face.”

Red’s face contorted with pain, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t care about reality… I just want her back… I want us to be truly whole again.”

“We’ll never be whole again!” Blue snapped, his voice breaking as he finally voiced the fear that had been festering inside him. “We’ve lost her! We don’t even know where the others are! We’re somehow reliving this again! We lost everything when she turned away from us, and it’s our fault she did it!”

Green’s eyes filled with tears as he shook his head, desperately trying to hold on to some shred of hope. “But we have to try! We can’t just give up! We can’t just…leave her behind…”

“Shut up!” Vio snapped, his cold facade finally crumbling. “All of you, just shut up! None of this changes what happened! None of this changes what we did—or didn’t do!”

Their voices overlapped, growing more heated, more desperate, each one throwing accusations, trying to deflect the guilt and pain that threatened to consume them.

“It was your fault!”

“No, it was yours!”

“You should have done something!”

“We all failed!!

The argument went in circles, the same accusations, the same denials, the same pain, over and over again, until their voices were hoarse and their spirits were spent. It was like they were stuck, trapped in an endless loop of blame and regret, unable to move forward, unable to let go.

—-

—-

Throughout their journey in , the colors wrestled with the traces of their arguments and guilt.

The weight of their memories and their failure to protect her loomed over them, a cruel hole in their hearts. Yet, despite the lingering tension, they had no choice but to work together.

Red was the first to break the silence that often settled between them, his voice hesitant but filled with a small glimmer of hope.

"Maybe...maybe we could make something for her? You know, if we...if we ever find her again." He didn't meet their eyes, instead fiddling with a small piece of wood he had picked up along the way.

Blue scoffed, but there was no real bite in his tone. "And what? Hand it to her with an apology?” He snorted, a scowl on his face, “Like that would fix everything."

Green bit his bottom lip, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "It might not fix anything, but it's…something. Maybe it's a way to show her that...that we still care, that we're trying to be better."

Vio, who had been silent up until that point, finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an underlying tension. "It's a start. We have nothing to lose by trying."

Red brightened at their responses, the glimmer of hope in his eyes growing a little stronger. "We could each make something, something that comes from the heart. It doesn't have to be much, just...just a token of what we feel."

“We would need proper materials…”

“Does it have to be one gift? Maybe a matching set or something?”

“If it’s a gift to her…it should be perfect…”

They all hesitated, the thought of crafting something meaningful for her stirring a mix of emotions within them.

But one by one, they were in agreement. It was a small step, but it was still a step forward.

As they journeyed on, they found themselves slowly working together, the tension between them gradually easing but still holding on to them.

They would often catch Red murmuring to himself as he gathered materials, his mind clearly on the gifts he was planning.

Blue, though gruff and still quick to snap, was more careful with his words and actions, as if he was trying to make up for his earlier harshness.

Green, ever the mediator, worked tirelessly to keep them focused and united, though the strain was evident in his eyes.

Vio, ever the observer, kept a close eye on their progress as they journeyed through the treacherous lands, but his thoughts were often elsewhere.

The burden they all carried weighed heavily on their mind, especially when they were all still separated, and the pretense he maintained with Shadow was both a strategy and a strain.

One evening, Vio found himself with Shadow in the tower.

The dark counterpart emerged from behind him, his eyes gleaming with that new curiosity that stayed in his eyes since they first interacted, but tonight, there was something more to his demeanor.

“You are a lot more different then I expected,” Shadow remarked, his voice dripping with a mix of intrigue and something more unsettled. “All of you. You guys act one way, but inside… I can tell there’s something else going on. Something you're all hiding.”

Vio didn’t let his expression falter.

Of course Shadow would notice—he was as much a part of them as they were of each other. “We have our roles to play,” Vio replied, his tone measured and calm. “What you see is what we need to be.”

Shadow tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied Vio. “So, it’s all an act? Pretending to be something you’re not? Trying to fool someone?” He bared his teeth in a mocking smile, his voice a dangerous whisper. “Or maybe…trying to fool yourselves?”

Vio’s calm facade didn’t waver, but the weight of Shadow’s words pressed on him. “Perhaps we are trying to fool ourselves,” he admitted quietly. “There are… things we haven’t fully come to terms with. Things that still haunt us.”

Shadow leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near hiss. “Come to terms with what, exactly? What are you hiding, Vio? Don’t be coy with me. Tell your pal Shadow the truth.”

Vio stared back at Shadow, his expression cool, but his mind carefully choosing his next words. “We lost someone important to us. Someone we failed to protect,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of the sorrow he kept buried. “We’re still trying to figure out how to make it right.”

Shadow’s gaze bored into Vio, as if trying to pry the truth from him with sheer will. Then, slowly, a knowing smile curled his lips, but it wasn’t a friendly one. “You’re not as good at hiding things as you think you are,” he said, his tone laced with dark amusement. “You can fool the princess, your Sword Brothers, even yourself, but not me.”

Shadow chuckled at the heavy stare Vio aimed at him.

“I see through the cracks, Vio. I can feel the darkness in you. What wonderful darkness you have. You’re all pretending, acting like everything’s fine, but I can feel it, there’s something festering inside you, something rotten. Something…unheroic.”

He grinned, “I kinda like it.”

Vio’s eyes flickered, but he remained composed. “So observant,” he remarked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Shadow’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “You can hide a lot of things, Vio. But you can’t hide what haunts you—not from me. The guilt, the fear… the anger. It’s all there, bubbling just beneath the surface, no matter how hard you try to suppress it.”

Vio knew Shadow was right. But he also knew that Shadow didn’t fully understand it, couldn’t grasp the depth of what they were hiding—not completely. Not when he was disconnected from them like this. Cut off from them by the Dark Mirror and Ganon’s powers.

“I suppose we really can’t hide anything important from you ,” Vio replied calmly, watching the dark counterpart preen. “But we don’t need to hide all that from you. Just from everyone else while we keep moving.”

Shadow scoffed, but his eyes remained fixed on Vio, studying him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “All this cause you made the wrong choices and refuse to accept it? Hmph, and I thought Vaati was arrogant.”

“Well that’s just cruel.”

Shadow waved him off, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Vio. And one day, the mask you’re wearing will crack.”

He tapped his chin and leaned closer, “I bet She’d reject anything you present to her the moment she saw you.” His voice holding a hint of glee when Vio tensed.

Vio’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t respond. He knew Shadow didn’t realize what it was he said.

He knew Shadow was aware of something, he had been behaving a bit off since their very first interactions…but he couldn’t afford to let him see the whole truth. He wasn’t ready…Not yet.

Shadow lingered for a moment longer, his eyes dark and unreadable, before he turned and melted back into the shadows. But as he disappeared, his parting words hung in the air like a curse.

“I’ll always be watching you guys, Vio. And when the time comes, we’ll see just how well you can keep denying your mistakes.”

“I never denied anything.” he said firmly.

Shadow shrugged with a smirk.”Keep telling yourself that.”

Shadow’s presence faded, leaving him alone, Vio felt the weight of the encounter settle heavily on his shoulders.

Shadow knew more than he realized, but still, being so disconnected from them meant he didn’t understand the full extent of their pain, their guilt.

And Vio…Link… intended to keep it that way, keep it from everyone, at least for as long as he could.

At least until things made sense again.

—-

—-

The boys watched in silence as the man’s body slumped to the ground, his eyes wide with the final realization of his fate. The fog thickened around them, swallowing the scene in its cold embrace.

Red stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the lifeless form. “Hard to believe he was a killer,” he said softly. “Didn’t he give himself up last time?”

Blue nodded, his anger subsiding into a cold determination. “And we just sped up the timeline. Not like anyone will ever know he was here.”

Green smiled faintly, his earlier amusement replaced by a calm satisfaction. “Another job well done, I’d say.”

Vio cleaned his dagger on the man’s clothes before sheathing it. “Only way the job will be done is when we head back and get the Trader’s favor”

Red nodded, sheathing his sword with a satisfied look. “So the trader owes us now right, for protecting him?” he said, hopeful. “And that means we can get high-quality materials for cheap right? He has just what we’re looking for.”

Blue began inspecting the man’s pockets, searching for anything of use, grinning at his findings. “He won’t need these anymore,” he muttered, pulling out a pouch of Rupees and tossing it to Green, who caught it with a soft snort. “Lucrative business, killing visiting traders and selling their products as your own.”

“Not so lucrative anymore thanks to us. Nice work, everyone,” Green said, his voice cheerful once more, as if they had just finished a game. “(Y/n) will be so happy when she returns and sees what we made for her.”

“We won’t have anything to show if we don’t get the materials,” Vio said finally, his voice calm and steady. “We’ve done what we needed here, let’s go.”

The boys turned and disappeared into the fog, leaving no trace behind. The forest remained silent, as if it had never witnessed the horrors that had unfolded within it.

——

——

After Ganon's defeat, after Shadow returned to them. (He hoped to introduce him to (y/n) one day….)

The Colors felt it—the hollow void gnawing at their insides, deeper than the exhaustion that weighed down their limbs. They had won, but victory brought them no joy. It brought them no peace.

No other adventures to distract them.

All that was left was simply to exist until something changed.

In the days that followed, they tried to live, tried to go on as if things were bearable.

Four moved through his life in a daze, performing tasks out of habit rather than purpose.

The cheerful chaos that normally followed when he split now replaced by either a spiral argument or silence, their conversations reduced to the bare minimum needed to share thoughts.

The one thing that kept them grounded enough to continue on, the one thing that gave them a semblance of purpose: (y/n).

At first, it was a fleeting thought, a distant longing for something they couldn't quite grasp. But as the days turned into weeks, that longing grew, twisted. They found their thoughts eaten by the idea of crafting the perfect gifts for her. Latching onto the idea like a lifeline.

They threw themselves into their work, desperate to fill the void within them with something—anything—that would make them feel whole again.

Crafting became their escape. Every waking moment was spent planning, designing, and perfecting gifts for (y/n).

If they had cared to truly notice, they would have been aware of the worried looks aimed at them.

(Four would sometimes hear Zelda speak with worry to his grandpa…funny how he felt nothing at the thought of any of them. They were just like everyone else. White noise.)

Green focused on weaponry, his mind racing with ideas for swords, shields, and bows. He became obsessed with crafting the most exquisite weapons, imagining how (y/n) would wield them in battle.

(He envisioned her face lighting up with joy as she held a sword he had forged with his own hands, the blade gleaming with a power he had poured his very soul into.)

Blue turned his attention to armor, his hands never idle as he worked on intricate designs. He wanted her to be safe, protected from any harm that might befall her. Each piece he crafted would be nothing less than masterpieces, infused with enchantments that would keep her from harm.

(How beautiful she would be when she wore it? Would she finally understand how much they cared, how much they needed her to be safe?)

Vio focused on accessories—rings, amulets, and pendants that would enhance her abilities. He studied ancient texts and experimented with new techniques, his mind a whirlwind of ideas. His thoughts were always centered on her.

He wanted her to know that they were doing this for her, that they wanted her to be happy, to thrive…with them.

Red, the most emotionally driven of the group, poured his heart into crafting gifts that were not just functional, but beautiful. He wanted to create jewelry that sparkled like the stars, flowers that would never wilt, and small trinkets that he hoped would make her smile.

But as that desire grew, so did the desperation in their

They all needed her to see how much they cared, needed her to understand that she was the only thing keeping them tethered to this world.

—

——

———

“It’s been a while since we’ve spent time together like this, hasn’t it, Link?”

Zelda stood on the balcony of the castle, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the stone floor.

She watched Four out of the corner of her eye as he silently admired the view, his expression serene. But the calmness in his face was off somehow, like a doll carefully painted with a cheerful smile, too perfect to be real.

…It worried her.

Four turned to her with that same perfect smile, his eyes reflecting the warm hues of the sunset. “I’ve been busy with the forge,” he said with an even tone that matched the serene smile on his face. “I’m sorry I haven’t come over to say hi.”

“I’ve heard, you’ve been making quite the name for yourself. I’m very happy for you.” The princess said warmly, genuinely happy for him.

Four felt nothing. No joy, no excitement at the prospect of spending time with his old friend.

His mind was already drifting back to the forge, to the hammer and anvil, the clanging metal, the comforting heat of the flames.

The thought of continuing his work brought him more peace than anything else.

He didn’t have to focus on anything other than the hypnotic rhythm of hammer on metal.

And Zelda tried to smile back, yet she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was different about him.

She remembered how Link used to be, energetic, full of curiosity, always eager to solve any challenge thrown his way. To entice her away from her royal duties and play with him.

But now, there was something artificial in his behavior, a detachment she couldn’t quite understand.

She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to reach him in a way that words couldn’t. “Link, you know you can talk to me, right? We’ve been through so much together. You’re my friend.”

The word "friend" echoed in Four’s mind, but it felt like a distant memory, something he acknowledged because it was true, but with no real attachment to it.

Not anymore.

He knew he should care, he should feel some sense of loyalty, affection, or at least nostalgia. But all he could muster was a dull sense of acknowledgment. Zelda was important, of course, she was the princess, a blood descendant of Hylia.

By all accounts, he should harbor resentment or reverence, after what Hylia had done.

But instead, he felt nothing for her. No hate, no love, just a strange indifference that he was careful to mask.

Hurting her feelings wouldn’t give him what he really wanted anyone.

“Of course, Zelda,” he replied, his voice bright and reassuring. “We’re friends, and I’m always here for you too.”

Zelda’s fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder before she pulled away, nodding as if reassured.

Yet her heart was heavy with unease. Something in his eyes, the way they didn’t quite meet hers, the way they lacked the spark she remembered, told her that something was deeply wrong.

But she couldn’t pinpoint it, couldn’t voice it, and that uncertainty gnawed at her.

“Why don’t we head inside? It’s getting chilly,” she suggested, hoping to draw him into a conversation.

Four nodded agreeably and followed her inside the castle, his mind already wandering back to the forge.

He played his part well, engaging in polite conversation, smiling and laughing at the appropriate moments.

But inwardly, all he wanted was to return to his work, to the rhythm of the hammer, to the heat that drowned out everything else.

As they walked through the castle halls, Zelda glanced at him from time to time, every time she thought she saw something, it was gone in an instant, replaced by that perfect, empty smile.

“Link,” she said quietly as they reached the doors to the grand hall, “I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

He smiled back at her, a smile that reached his eyes just enough to fool anyone who wasn’t looking too closely. “I’m glad to be here too,” he said, but inside, he was already counting the minutes until he could leave, until he could be alone again, where he didn’t have to pretend.

As the afternoon wore on, Zelda led him through the castle, guiding him through various rooms and gardens, trying to rekindle old memories and activities they once enjoyed together.

Before Shadow and Ganon, before Vaati and the Minish.

They worked on a puzzle in the library, played a few rounds of chess in the grand hall, and wandered through the palace gardens where Zelda pointed out the blooming flowers, each one carrying a story from their past.

Throughout it all, Four maintained his facade, engaging politely but with a sense of detachment. He responded to Zelda’s attempts to reconnect with the same artificial cheerfulness that had become his default.

Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of the something in her eyes, masked by her bright smile, but he chose to ignore it.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, Zelda walked Four to the main entrance. She lingered a moment, her gaze following him as he prepared to leave.

“Thank you for spending the day with me, Link,” she said, her voice gentle but tinged with an hidden layer of sadness. “I’ve missed these moments with my dear friend.”

Four nodded, forcing a smile. “It was a pleasure. Don’t let those grumpy councilmen keep you too busy.”

As he turned to leave, he noticed Zelda waving goodbye, her smile now holding a subtle melancholy that she tried to hide.

For a brief moment, Four felt a pang of heaviness.

Yet, he couldn't muster the emotional energy to bridge the gap between their feelings. He knew she had once been a dear friend, but now he was more concerned returning to his forge.

He walked away, the image of Zelda’s sad smile lingering in his mind.

Deep down, he knew if he bluntly told her he wanted nothing to do with her, she would accept it. She was understanding like that. Though she would accept albeit sadly.

Yet the thought was fleeting compared to his overwhelming desire to return to his solitary work.

The heat of the forge, the rhythm of the hammer, it was his refuge from a world that no longer made sense with nothing else left to ground him.

———

——

—

The more they crafted, the more their desperation determination deepened.

They began to imagine what it would be like if (y/n) fought alongside them, wielding the weapons they had created just for her.

The thought of her in battle, strong and powerful, became a fixation. They knew the other heroes wouldn't approve, (perhaps he should hone his own fighting skills for the inevitable clash. He’ll have to find time between crafting…)

They would likely be upset over Four crafting weapons for their darling, but the hero didn't care.

They wanted her to be happy, wanted her to see that they would do anything for her.

If she wanted to learn how to fight, they would teach her. They never should have denied her anything.

If she wanted to wield a sword, they would forge the finest blade. Never any of those shoddy blades that the Cook always used.

They were no longer just crafting gifts; they were crafting a vision of a future with her, a future where she needed them as much as they needed her.

In their dreams, they saw her smile as she accepted their offerings, saw her eyes light up with affection and gratitude.

And when they woke, the emptiness within them was more pronounced, the need for her even more intense.

They wanted to be whole again, back when things weren’t strange yet familiar.

New despite knowledge to the contrary.

To feel the warmth of life flowing through their veins. And in their minds, the only way to achieve that was through her.

She was their light, their hope that a warm future was possible for a Hero, the one person that could fill the void that has existed since all of this happened.

And so, they continued to craft, whatever didn’t reach their standards, was scrapped and remade.

Again and again, never settling for less.

Any that couldn’t be saved but still had a semblance of worth were given to his grandfather to sell at whatever price he saw fit.

More money meant more materials.

More materials meant more options to craft with.

And whatever he couldn’t obtain through hunting. He would take from sales.

Perhaps the whispers of the townspeople, should have made him feel something when he started bringing income.

‘He’s taking to his grandfather’s craft rather well!’

But they meant nothing.

‘A prodigy, that one.’

Their praise wasn’t the one he wanted.

‘Have you seen the quality of his blades?’

‘Blades? Look at his armor! Such craftsmanship! Friend of mine bought one and it handled a moblin club to the chest no problem!’

‘I heard the king was interested in his weaponry and armor and the boy declined!’

‘Quite young to be so dedicated to mastering his craft isn’t he?’

‘…Does he take custom commissions?’

He heard it, and cared for none of it.

Nothing flawed would ever be gifted to (y/n).

They can praise his failures. He only cared for the money needed for supplies and materials.

He would make the perfect gifts.

And if she didn’t like it…

Then he’ll remake them.

Again and again.

He’s gained the favor of many traders and merchants.

He had better materials than before.

He’ll surely make something splendid.

“Hmm…” Four looked at the finished blade, examining it from all angles.

To the eyes of an outsider, it was a fine blade indeed.

The quality of metal was clear. Polished well, the edges so fine one would assume a hair strand would split in two if dropped on it.

Several long minutes passing before his frown deepens.

‘Not good enough…’

And with not a single other glance, he tosses it into the large crate in the corner.

Later his grandfather will take the crate and pick what will be on display tomorrow.

It’ll be sold off by midday.

That’s what he overheard happened these days anyway.

At least he’ll have more space for his creations..

‘Again…’ was all he said to himself as he began to gather new materials to create another blade.

He had to keep crafting.

Again and again.

Had to forge the perfect gift.

Again and again.

It would make things better…

It would fix everything…

…

(Wouldn’t it?)

[starsetven]

Happy early valentine day 💝

Mc makes brigaderios for the day.

Who will try them first?

Who tries them first

Link, Avery

Who misses the opportunity to because the others ate them all

Tyler

Who ate most of them

Vic

[channydraws]

Wild mischaracterization of your own characters...

if true at least. u u

[silvery-orchid]

The funniest dynamic in my mind belongs to Dottore with a darling who absolutely hates doctors but he didn't manage to get you yet.

He tries to manipulate you by giving you expert medical advice? Saying he knows best? You throw an apple at him. Of course. But then you taunt him saying hes not a real doctor anyways but you keep apples and apple flavored things everywhere.

And when the tsaritsa actually requires you to go on like checkups?? You demand 5 other people to be in the room that you trust and dottore has to take the anesthesia swab they use for kids at the dentist just to check your teeth. And then he has to give you bandaids with flowers and cats on them after drawing your blood.

And he gives you a lolipop but you throw it against the wall and leave. And he is just like,,, furrowed eyebrows but admiration sighs and longing and everyone else is just like ??!??¿

[mikeellee]

Hi @mikeellee

What you said in a post was interesting when it came down to Toga and Izuku

It was Toga liking Izuku more than just surface Level stuff

We know Hori wouldn't let it develop more but if it was developed more than, Toga could have been Izuku's first attempt at reaching out to a Villain

Hi @kite2013

Like Toga could have been way more efficient and even a real threat for Izu, in the emotional sense. A girl with a knife, realistically, is not a big deal for Izu even if she fights well...

But a yandere who loves Izu in her yandere way and is sincere? That is way way more powerful bc Izu has 0 people who genuinely care for him.

Toga, if she could be a real yandere. Could make Izu turns against the heroes bc ...she is the only one who cares for Izu or she could join the heroes as she cares for Izu more.

This could work....but we have my cucko academia.

[v3ng3anc3-qu33n]

Home. (Pt. 2 of Her Revenge Series)

"I'm home~" I shout as I step in to the rugged building the door creaking as I use my key to get in.

"Ayyy sis we're having our 'movie' night." Shigiraki said.

I grin maliciously my tongue sliding over my teeth, a habit of excitement I picked up from him.

"Good evening Madame I hope your trip wasn't too dreary. Though I would hope you would have asked for a portal if so?" Kurogiri says with a polite nod.

"EEEEEE!!!! BESTIE YOU'RE ACTUALLY BACK!!!" Toga shouts gleefully "IM SO EXCITED FOR ALL THE SHIT WE CAN PULL TOGETHER AGAIN!!!"

"Princess." Dabi nods to me.

"...good to know I was missed." I say sarcastically with an eye roll.

"Who is this? I know who this is." Twice says as he walks in with Spinner.

"Yeah who is this chick?" Spinner says.

"I'm y/n AFO's niece.. pleasure to meet you." I say politely with hints of smugness seeping through my demeanour.

"She's also shiggys little sister like adoptively and my bestie so I would lay the fuck off!!" Toga says while giggling maniacally.

"With introductions out of the way what 'movie' are we watching?" I say intrigued.

"The footage from UA dorms." Dabi says nonchalantly.

I snicker and slowly get my breathe back still wheezing "I'm sorry what? How the fuck did you all manage that?"

"Well you know pull a few strings pay a few bribes impersonate a few people." Shigiraki says not looking up from his switch as Dabi is getting the cctv footage up.

"actually...." Toga says.

"What? I don't like that tone girl." I say tentatively.

"Well instead you could tell us what happened?" She says eager to hear.

"...not a bad idea vampire" Dabi says.

I sigh "I'm gonna have to aren't I?"

"Yup." Shigiraki chimes in turning off his game intrigued.

I sit down at the bar facing them all.

"Well okay everyone sit down, though it's a long story. Let's start at the beginning for the two newbies after i escaped the ??? ???? and found Uncle again. I started on my path of vigilantism, and by the time i was 14, i started killing. As I was becoming more and more notorious for my corrupt hero, villain, and corrupt people in general killings, Uncle Afo insisted I took a break. I was here hanging out when I got word of a shitty city in America called Gotham. They were protected by only a few vigilantes who to be honest sucked fucking ass. They were useless they would put away the villains and then the villains would break out and it would happen all over again it was an endless cycle of death of innocent civilians. Upon further digging you know what I found? This main vigilante, was named Bruce Wayne or Batman was his alias, its so stupid, anyways he was loaded like rich as fuck so instead of going to the root of the problem you know funding the prison for better security, helping the city, helping what made people into villains, etc. He was running around in spandex doing a shitty ass job of actually helping the root of the problem." I say pausing as Kurogiri slid a vodka bottle to me I nod and thank him before taking a long drink.

"So with the blessing of ?? and the ???????? I moved to America, I needed their blessing so they could help me if it ever was too much and I needed help. It went well for the first few weeks, I enrolled myself in school so as to avoid scrutiny, I became friends with some of the villains and anti heroes like the Huntress and the Gotham Sirens the villains who I befriended actually had reasons to become a villains but not the fully psycho ones.... but of course I fucked it up. No one was on to me it was perfect I was average not noticeable at all. But then I met a boy named Damian he was cold but intelligent and when it mattered he cared... we started to date.. but it turns out vigilantism is mostly a family business as his name was Damian Wayne... he has 3 brothers and they are all vigilantes there are also a few daughter like figures though I never really knew whether or not they were adopted... but they were all vigilantes.... just my luck. One day I was out my guns ready, my bat tucked away, my knives hidden, and my poison capsule in my sleeve. They saw me.. chased me and somehow one of them fucking hit me that BITCH CASSANDRA CAIN.... sorry... rage... anyways.. the mark was visible I wore make up to keep it hidden but one day Damians dog licked my face and it came off.. he put the pieces together... is was a 2 year relationship... that's when I called you all... after he yelled at me and flipped the fuck out" I sigh and wipe my eyes. "I was being nice.. I got caught up in my feelings... I knew I should've killed that whole damn bAtFaMiLy when I had the chance." I say cruelly mocking them towards the end.

"No one will ever hurt me like that again. They won't have the chance to. I think instead I'll hurt them all first." I say cruelly as my eyes glow vibrant purple.

V3NG3ANC3 hi thoughts on the readers family? Btw those question marks are the same amount as the letters try and guess who they are also the reader has scarlet witch powers but better and more powerful and like purple, I will definitely elaborate more on this later though as it ties into fairy tales as well.

[hetafice]

hi hi !! loveee your blog so far, it’s v nice to see more hetalia writers popping up again. if you’re interested in tackling this request, i’d like to see your take on how a yandere romano would deal with feelings of jealousy in regards to his darling getting a little too close than what his insecure brain’s comfortable with to his brother veneziano? 🫶💕

tysm! these are still yandere hcs, but i actually ended up also doing a small character study. i’ve been wanting to do those more recently so if you’re interested send in a request! bonus points if it’s not a super popular character. + this came out a lot longer than intended, so enjoy.

This is something Lovino would not be able to handle.

He has spent centuries trying to navigate the minefield that is the relationship with his brother--with varying degrees of success. One thing that has remained constant, however, is the fact that people overwhelmingly prefer his younger brother.

Romano has seemingly tried everything. Careful imitation, acting the complete opposite, sabotaging from the shadows, acting as right-hand man, you name it. Nothing has seemed to stick.

Even now, he’s invisible. Reduced to the lesser half a whole. Forever shackled to his brother, effectively prevented from exercising his own agency.

It’s never fun to be stuck in someone's shadow, but for the person whose shadow you're stuck in to be so unflinchingly blasé about it? For one to be as stuck as long as Lovino has? Being forcefully denied your own personhood like that often breeds contempt. Hatred like that can simmer under the surface for decades, even centuries before bubbling over and being noticed by others. Holding hatred like that for so long as he has? It’s almost enough to drive someone mad.

But when he gets you and has something of his own for once he relaxes a bit. There’s no need to be on edge, to constantly put on airs, because he has someone in his corner. Someone who has taken the time to know him on a deep, personal level. Someone, who despite his faults, is willing to love him, and in turn trusts him enough to love them back. That alone is enough to satiate him, to quiet his restless mind, and dull the sharp blade of self-hatred that’s been lingering within him for so long.

So when he discovers you calmly conversing with the man who has unknowingly tormented him for so long, he almost does not know what to do with himself.

It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot, mindlessly drifting over to where the two of you stand, immediately trying to assess the situation.

 In your eyes, the conversation with Veneziano was just much overdue. It was impolite to not introduce yourself to someone so close to your partner. Lovino would never say so, but sometimes the refusal to introduce you to his loved ones felt intentional. Whenever you would press the issue, he would hastily arrange a meeting to calm you down. It worked a few times; you got to meet a few of his friends, and even his pseudo-guardian/older brother/ mentor (you never were quite sure of the nature of their relationship), but you never got the chance to meet Veneziano. Occasions where you two were set to meet would mysteriously get canceled due to unforeseen circumstances. You also noticed that he would always get strangely cagey at the mention of his younger brother. 

At first, he would try to covertly sow discord between the two of you, in hopes that you would have a falling-out. In his mind, if he could manufacture situations to make you see his brother’s shortcomings, you wouldn’t want to be around him.

When he discovers, to his horror, that you have grown closer to his brother despite the careful machinations, he would spiral.

To you and Veneziano, your friendship is as right as rain, completely unforced, and a natural progression. After knowing each other peripherally for so long, making friends with you just makes sense.

But to Romano, this is yet another event point, in a seemingly infinite pattern of behavior. Time and time again, Romano finds something of his own, takes a liking to it, starts to cherish it, but only until Veneziano comes along and tries to take it. He always manages, because he is always successful in everything that he does. Afterwards, Romano is then left with nothing but more hatred to swallow and another large bruise on his ego. He can’t let it happen again, not this time, not after cultivating a relationship so pure, not like this, not-

He devises to stop it. Whatever it is between the two of you. Immediately.

Lovino, who has always been romantic, will up the ante. You suddenly find yourself whisked away on trips abroad more often than you are sat at home. How could you find the time to catch up with his brother when you have a date that night, another trip to pack for? To you, it seems as though you have entered a second honeymoon phase in your relationship. Unbeknownst to you, he’s tirelessly working to separate you. He shall get Veneziano away before he tries to take what is rightfully his for the umpteenth time.

Before your increased contact with Veneziano, your relationship was, by all accounts, normal.

You met Lovino by happenstance, and your romance blossomed at a pace that felt comfortable and right. He was nothing but loving and attentive, if a bit temperamental at times. But after you meet his brother, you notice a palpable shift in his attitude. He snaps at people more and always seems to be in deep thought. But he’s kinder in some ways as well. He’s now always concerned about your safety and likes to know where you’re going beforehand, not after the fact like you used to do. He figured out that you love the gifts he gets you, so you now receive way more of them. He’s more appreciative of everything you do as well. So much so that one day, after a particularly elaborate meal, he suggests you quit your job to take care of the home. To his delight, you eventually agree, but any joy is quickly stamped out when he hears you happily explaining your new living arrangement to his brother.

He can’t stand it really, as his mind sails through countless scenarios, unearthing trauma he thought had been resolved (or safely buried) since the early Renaissance. He doesn't know why his mind takes him in this direction, but then again he doesn't know a lot of things. He doesn't know why efforts to separate the two of you don't work, or why nothing he does ever seems to work. Why is it that he is never enough? Why, after so many attempts and failures, did Grandfather never really seem to grow fond of him? 

After yet another night of being forced to confront these long-dormant worries, he decides enough is enough. If you cannot take the hints he has so kindly given you, then he will separate the two of you by force.

Long gone are your days of exploring the city alone. No more impromptu cafe trips, walks around the park, or unsupervised trips to the post office. You are expected to stay at home, and at home you stay.

“Amore mio, it’s too dangerous out there,” he says. “There’s nothing nearby worth seeing, and you know how I feel about you driving.”

And you believe him because why wouldn’t you? He cares for you more than anyone! More than your coworkers, your friends who stopped visiting, or even your family who mysteriously don’t care enough to call anymore…

And just like that, you have been delegated to remain in the domicile. Showering him and only him with your seemingly infinite divine grace for as long as time permits it.

It’s so simple that he regrets not doing it sooner.

As for his ingrate brother, he will do anything to ensure he does not go sniffing anywhere he need not be. 

It takes nothing to ruin Veneziano’s reputation. To oust him as an incompetent womanizer. Someone whose words of concern should never be taken seriously.

To Lovino, it is well worth it. He’ll put an end to the madness, he must. Even if it means making you unhappy, or betraying his own blood, or dirtying his hands with sin, or being at the receiving end of your icy gaze for the rest of eternity.

But you aren’t unhappy, are you now? You’re over the moon, and why wouldn’t you be? You are given everything you need and more. Besides, Lovino doesn't like it when you frown.

“Look happy now. You have no reason not to,” he always says.

[cotl-inspiteofyou]

For Lamb: hey lamb do u wanna see my baby Osiris and her parents were Hunting Down and killed so don't do anything to scared her

[carnivorousyandeere]

Working on that ‘peeling oranges’ post with my own OCs, taking a lot longer than expected, but shout-out to Amory for falling into multiple, seemingly-contradictory categories.

He peels oranges for you/shares slices without even thinking much of it on the regular, but the minute you ask him to he’s gonna refuse 😭

Missing Amory and Sarina but my brain’s gone kaput. Nothing up here rn

[hime-bee]

Leumin's hard is dyed yeah??? What's his original colour then?

it's a darker shade of brown! If I had to pick a specific color, I'd say #2c2323!

[jabberwockprince]

since 90% of the r1999 ships have never even interacted, im living my truth and shipping pavia x forget me not. i think they should make each other worse, i think they'd be insufferable together

[yandereocs]

There's a chair and there's a Note that says "sit on this chair and you will get married to darling" and let's just say that Yandere harem turn into Battle Royale.

And there is darling just sitting there and watching this and eating some popcorn..

* If Darling is gonna be kidnapped by a crap ton of insane people they might as well have some fun with it

* BUT HELP THE YANDERE HAREM ARE LITERALLY GOING TO KILL EACH OTHER OVER THIS CHAIR 😭