#yandere story

[yoru-no-seiiki]

“Lie to me, cheat on me, I don’t care. Just do your job and all’s fair.”

— yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x apathetic! reader

tw/cw: no smut, but this account needs a revive so… reader is gender neutral but i hc them as a dommy mommy. more headcannony than a proper story.

You met him after he managed to con one of your friends at work. Posing as this suave, nice guy, who happened to lack the money to support himself. The one time your friend finally put trust in someone else, that was the time it was completely broken. Turned to ash and bones.

You remember the night your friend came to you, eyes red-rimmed and voice trembling as they recounted the whole ordeal. How he’d slipped into their life so seamlessly, with that charming smile and easy laugh, only to hollow them out from the inside. Every word he’d said was carefully crafted, every gesture perfectly calculated to lure them into a false sense of security. And when they finally realized the truth—when the money was gone and so was he—it wasn’t just their savings he’d taken. It was their ability to trust, to hope, to believe in people again.

And so you decided to take him for yourself.

You remember the look of relief, and then recognition before it settled into confusion with the slight hint of derision.

He was perfect.

“If you managed to fool them, then you’ll do a good job fooling my own parents.”

You needed him. He needed you. It was the perfect agreement. His confidence was alluring as it was powerful. The way he turned heads just by being in the room. And the sex? Simply amazing. I mean, if he managed to make your prude of a friend to buckle then it must’ve counted for something.

Sure, the look in their eyes when you brought him to work one day was horrific. But they’ll get over it you think.

After all, you’d made your choice, and you weren’t about to apologize for it. Maybe it was reckless, maybe even cruel, but there was something about him that kept you hooked. The way he carried himself, all charm and sharp edges, like he knew exactly how far he could push before breaking someone. It wasn’t love, not really, but it was magnetic, intoxicating. Besides, your friend would move on eventually—people always did— it was the natural course of things. You told yourself it wasn’t your responsibility to mend what he’d shattered, even if the shame clawed at you every time their gaze lingered, silent and accusing. You shrugged it off.

But then suddenly he began to act nice? You could feel the gradual loss of his impassivity. How he suddenly became interested in what you were doing, saying and most importantly disinterested in the money you gave him.

“Don’t you get it—? I - I can’t believe I’m even saying this myself - but I love you. I fell for you. And I don’t even know why—“

“Stop.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. A puff of moisture blows through the air as seasons passed and winter has arrived. Frustrated that the one thing you had over him was now seen as no longer valuable. But then realized . . . , “You know what? S��long as it makes the job easier for you.”

With the last smoke from your cigar, you press the tip of it to his nose. Ash, skin and snow collide.

You thought it was better for the both of you. He could have the so called love of his life, and you could spend a bit less trying to keep him tied to you as long as he was useful. However, what you needed from him wasn’t just love, it was strength, not this blubbering piece of mess that kept stuttering the moment you two were left alone.

He was turning weak. Pathetic. Something you didn’t need nor want in a partner.

Too bad he knew you too well. He knew that you were going to leave him behind. He knew that he only had moments to waste before all of this would be over.

So on Christmas Eve, he plans it all out. The meal, the lighting, the music.

He did what he always did best—he made those moments count. His words were sharp, like knives carefully aimed to slice through your resolve, each one designed to remind you why you’d stayed this long. He painted pictures of what you’d lose, of how lonely it would be without him, and how no one else could ever understand you the way he did. His smile was bittersweet, a mask for the desperation lurking underneath.

And it ends with a cheer,

all of this so that he could drug you.

And at last, with a kiss to your lips he mouthed, “Happy Holidays.”

[Author’s Note] Reader definitely comes from a Mafia family of sorts.

[yandereend]

Yandere husband headcanons

TW: yandere stuff, harassment, age gap, bad things I guess

💜Please keep in mind that English is not my native language💜

Yandere husband who is in his late twenties when he met you and falls head over heels for you

Yandere husband comes from a wealthy background working as a CEO in his fathers company, yep it’s not his money but he acts like it

Yandere husband is a complete nepo baby, he didn’t even work until he was 25 years old

Yandere husband who was extremely happy when he spotted you as a new intern at „his“ company

Yandere husband who always made remarks about you, wanting you at his department all the time

Yandere husband who forced you to sit on his lap while he works, saying that’s your new job

Yandere husband always saw how his father treated his mother, and thought badly of „poor“ people overall saying you need him and starting gaslighting you

Yandere husband who forced you to be his partner and showed you off to all his friends

Yandere husband who fires you from the company, forces your landlord to quit your contract and makes himself out to be your savior in your darkest times

Yandere husband who proposes to you after you moved in with him leaving you in a vulnerable situation

Yandere husband who makes your wedding the biggest event hes ever thrown

Yandere husband who loves belittling you infront of everyone, praising your looks and making fun of your intelligence

Yandere husband, who as much as he belittles you, does love you for your mind, soul and personality in the end (he had enough pretty people in the past who were only objects for him)

Yandere husband who doesn’t care for your age gap, he secretly enjoys being the older one

Yandere husband who doesn’t have a problem with giving you addicting drugs if it makes you submissive, as long as your health allows it

Yandere husband who always makes sure you look put together and pretty, no matter what your mental state is

Yandere husband who brings a child into the relationship either through babytrapping you or adoption

Yandere husband who wants you under him all the time in bed, being a dom in the relationship btw

Yandere husband who loves you more than anything and just wants his pretty, young and sweet darling save in his grasp

💜Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed it, feel free to leave asks 💜

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Soft Yandere! Clan Leader x Wife!Reader

warnings: self-hatred, insecure! reader, nudity, only brief mentions of nsfw themes

genre: fluff, comfort

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

You felt hot, flashing pain trickle down your throat to settle in the depth of your chest—lungs aching from the strain, face nearly purple as you held a bated breath, eyes squeezed shut, trying your best to avoid his gaze.

“I am sorry—” your voice was all but a meek squeak. “—I know this wasn't what you were expecting.” nimble fingers curled and tugged at your robes, keeping them positioned in front of you bare state—as you couldn't help but bow your head in utter shame, feeling the weight of your imperfections bear down on you.

The man hovering above your kneeling form remained silent, opting for assessing and scrutinizing you with the sharp whiplash of his gaze alone.

“I know—you're unhappy about this—my family will repay the trinkets your clan gifted us so graciously. Just please don't act rash and revoke the marriage—” you couldn't even finish uttering the words wobbling from your quivering lips before a sob ripped free from your throat and you just had to bury your face into the silkiness of your robes.

There was a sigh, then a long pause as you wailed, bashfully, scrambling to try and hide as much of your figure as possible, feeling slimy and dirty, hideous even, to have thrown yourself at the head of one of the biggest clan’s like a loose woman—as if you held your legs open for just anybody.

“Calm your nerves.” his voice was gruff, tinged with exasperation, as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your forehead to trace your hairline and find a rhythmic pattern petting your crown. “I will do no such thing, my bride, can't you even look at me?” he was kind, much too kind towards something as filthy as you were.

“I cannot—” you rasped between laboured breaths and high-pitched mewls muffled by your bloated bottom lip; bitten raw.

“You're upset. Why are you so saddened? What has caused you anguish? You're my wife—you do not need to lower your gaze in shame.” he whispered tentatively and before you knew it, he had peeled away the annoying piece of fabric obscuring your adorable sniffling face from him. “Do not cry. Our families expect of us to lay together—but if you fear it this much, we can wait. I can wait, my wife, why won't you calm?” chiffon, something akin to a gentle breeze caressing you—that’s what his voice was like, lulling you into a daze; sweet candy to lure you out of your hiding.

So, finally, scraping together all the courage you had, you raised your gaze to meet his, immediately regretting it, as the gentleness in his, so misdirected at something as ugly as you were, made you burst out into another fit of hysterics. “No, no, no. You're—you’re just too nice. Throwing myself at you like a whore—you deserve better. A refined lady. That's what you need and our clans expect—but I am no such thing. I—I am hideous, please, stop looking at me with such kindness. I apologise, husband, I am ruining the first night and I can't just stop and—”

“Breathe” you felt your cheek press into a chest and finally the furrow between your brows eased as you let something almost primal escape you, breaking down all too horribly until your head throbbed in an ache and your nose was stuffy and runny—and while you unleashed your inner demons, he was petting you, cooing at you, reminding you to stay grounded.

“My wife—” he chirped once it was over and you exhausted your capacity to cry any further, sinking into the soft covers of your martial bed like a heavy sack of sand, “I am blessed to be yours.” you felt him interlace his thick fingers with yours, brushing over the back of your hand subtly yet affectionately, as the moon filtered through the curtains to lay stripes of silver across you both.

“Can you even imagine how much I yearned for this very moment? To claim that you're mine, not just in spirit—with our two clans permanently intertwined? Since the day you passed by me at the market all my waking moments have been filled with longing for you. So how could you ever call the woman I love all these distasteful names?” he chased away all the bad thoughts as your numbed body laid against his, arms so powerful you were sure they could've squeezed you to death if he was lying, but it didn't seem so—not him, not the most perfect man you knew, the one you were certain deserved better than you.

“You're silent, my wife.” he paused. “It seems your husband lacks the ability to truly convince you of his feelings.” he pressed a kiss to your crown, sighing softly while scooping you closer to his warmth. "Do not fret. We have our entire lives left. If you cannot trust me yet, then I will teach you how—I will convince you of my earnest feelings, even if it takes a lifetime. Because—” he pressed a kiss to your forehead this time, staring down at your bare form beneath the covers, cuddled up in his arms, with tears smeared across your cheeks so beautifully. “ask and I would even bring down the moon for you.”

[intynidad]

Hey, can you do shapeshifting yandere x reader who's slowly realising that the yandere has replaced their significant other?

I love this idea

I think i got a little carried away with this but i really like how it turned out

TW: yandere stuff, kidnapping (not towards reader), murder (implied), doppelgänger??

LOVE HAS MANY FORMS

It began with subtle shifts, barely noticeable at first. Changes in your partner's attitude that left you with a lingering sense of suspicion. They hadn't done anything wrong per se, but their behavior was undeniably different.

"Hello, darling," they greeted you with a gentle kiss on the cheek. "How was your day?"

It had been a month since this transformation began. "I'm okay, love. How about you?" you responded, trying to navigate this newfound affection and adoration. It was a stark contrast to the cold and distant demeanor they had maintained throughout your one-year relationship. It was as if they had become an entirely different person.

You couldn't deny the warmth that came with their displays of love. It was a welcomed change, albeit one that left you feeling slightly perplexed. The shift in their behavior raised questions in your mind. What had sparked this sudden outpouring of affection? Was it genuine, or was there something more lurking beneath the surface?

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself torn between embracing this newfound connection and cautiously questioning its authenticity. A part of you cherished the tenderness and closeness you now shared, relishing in the affectionate gestures that had previously been absent. But another part of you couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that something wasn't quite right.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you feigned sleep, only to be jolted awake by peculiar noises emanating from the basement. Intrigued and filled with trepidation, you summoned the courage to investigate, guided by the unnerving sounds that reached your ears. As you approached the basement door, your heart raced in anticipation of the truth that awaited you.

Pushing open the creaking door, your eyes widened in disbelief as you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Before you stood your partner, bound to a chair, their expression one of fear and vulnerability. And next to them stood an eerie doppelgänger, an exact replica of your beloved but radiating an unsettling aura.

Caught in this bizarre confrontation, you couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation, your heart sinking with each word uttered. Your partner, weakened and emaciated, pleaded for their release, swearing to keep the encounter a secret.

"Please let me go, I swear I won't tell anyone about this!" your partner pleaded desperately, their voice laced with fear and desperation. Their frail form seemed to have withered, contrasting sharply with the stronger, more imposing figure standing beside them.

"Let you go and then what?" the doppelgänger retorted, their tone dripping with anger and resentment. "So you can continue treating them like trash? I won't allow it."

“I don’t even like that idiot!, i just date them for a bet, I don't care if you wanna date them, do it as yourself and let me go!”

Frustration and confusion welled up inside you as you grappled with the shocking revelation unfolding before you. Your real partner, bound and vulnerable, claimed their indifference towards you, confessing that they had only entered into the relationship as part of a bet. The words stung, piercing your heart with betrayal and hurt.

"Don't you dare call them an idiot!" the doppelgänger's voice rang out, filled with fierce protectiveness and devotion. "They are the most incredible person in this world. I love them more than you could ever comprehend."

The weight of the situation bore down upon you, leaving you torn between conflicting emotions. The one you had trusted had revealed their true nature, while the doppelgänger stood as a beacon of love and adoration, professing an unwavering devotion to you.

The doppelgänger's voice, filled with anguish and resentment, pierced through the tense air once more. "I don't understand why they would choose you! I have assumed countless forms in the past, and none of them caught their interest. But you, you managed to captivate their heart effortlessly, and yet you seem unaffected. How dare you!"

The sound of their scream made you stumble backwards and accidentally stepped a little to hard on a Wooden plank that made a small noise ,it was small yet enough to caught the attention of both of the persons on the other side of the door.

“Ho-honey is that you?” The doppelgänger voice sound scared

“HELP ME Y/N IM HERE HELP” your partner voice boomed into your ears as the door opened

Your eyes went to the doppelgänger to your partner to the doppelgänger again and the cycle continues for what felt like an eternity

“STOP LOOKING AROUND LIKE AN IDIOT AND HELP ME OUT” your boyfriend pleaded in despair

You looked again at the doppelgänger eyesore they filled with fear but you knew that what they fear wasn’t they getting caught…

“How much did you hear?” The doppelgänger spoke with a shake voice

Small tears started to form in the corner of your eyes “one year … and it was all a bet” you said looking at the ground

“AND THAT WHAT YOU TOOK OUT OF THIS SITUATION,SHUT UP AND HELP ME OUT” your partner said with panic

After a moment or maybe an hour of silence you decided to lift your head and look at both of them

“Honey…” you said but this time looking at the doppelgänger

“When you finish whatever you have to do, please come back to bed, is cold without you” and gave your new “partner” a small kiss on the lips

“Yes…yes love i promise ill be quick” small happiness tears started to fall from your partner eyes it would have been a romantic scene if it wasn’t for your ex screaming on the background

“YOU STUPID WHORE, YOU ASSHOLE I HOPE YOU DIE YOU SELFISH BI-” A hit in the head and they were knocked out

“Are-are they dead?” You asked with a small amount of fear

“No, don’t worry i will not expose you to such things” your new partner gave you a kiss on your hands “ go to sleep love, ill be up in a second”

You gave one last look at the limb body of your ex significant other…and walked away

Later that night you were sleeping on your bed when a pair of warm arms hugged you from behind while whispering praises and promises of love

And for the first time, you believe them

——

Your partner slowly started to change after that day, to the rest of they world they just started to experiment with hair dye and contact lenses but you knew that they wanted to love you as their true self, and you were eager to let them love you

[hana-no-seiiki]

WHAT’S UP DANGER?

— [ CH 01 ] WITH GREAT ABILITY COMES GREAT ACCOUNTABILITY

pairings: yandere! various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader

tw/cw: no yandere themes for this chapter, characters get aged up later on but are teens to young adults now, reader is gender neutral but characters refer to them with masculine terms (hijo, man, dude), spoilers for spiderverse movies. but ofc since this is a crossover it won’t be completely the same.

status: unedited

[masterlist] [next]

REPLY TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

“Mama, stop you’re covering me with your saliva—!” You groaned as you made a half-assed attempt at pushing your mother away.

It was the first day of your attendance at Gotham Visions and you weren’t the least bit nervous. Not at all. Totally. It wasn’t as if you were just thrusted into this situation with no choice whatsoever in addition to the pressure of your family’s wholeass livelihood on your shoulder. No. You were completely cool with this situation. In fact, you were so cool that you’re almost late to your first day of classes.

“But you look so adorable, mi hijo!” Your mother rubbed her face all over yours, messing up whatever you decided to put on.

“Papa what are you doing? Arrest this woman at once, for gross misconduct or whatever—“

“You do look adorable, and if I do I’d have to be fair and arrest you for vandalism.”

You freeze at your father’s not so subtle call out, before swiftly slithering away from your mother’s bear-like grip.

“Augh! I’m going to be late! Hasta luego!”

It was August. The start of a new school year for you. A new life away from your family and friends.

Gotham Visions University. A campus filled with elitists; fancy rich people. The cream of the crop. Your future school. Being a scholar there would have been fine, amazing even! If it wasn’t something you won through a lottery. You felt like a thief, an imposter. Going to a school for prodigies and rich kids as an average old joe is one thing, going to a school for prodigies and rich kid as a poor lottery student is another.

“[Y/N]! How you doing man? Lookin fancy. The uniform so fits ya.” A kid hangs his arm around you. If you were being completely honest you weren’t sure about his name, but you hung out often for basketball and other activities around the neighborhood. With the amount of people that knew you around the community, it was difficult keeping all those faces in your head so you often covered it up with nicknames.

“Psh. See ya next friday for shawarma?” You winked, cringing a little inside for your actions.

But to your utter surprise, the kid in turn blushes before giving you a massive grin. “You bet. My treat!”

And just a few seconds afterwards, he hits you at the back of the head before leaving, “Hey! Ow.”

“[Y/N]! Good luck on school dude! We’ll miss ya! Don’t be a stranger okay? We’re still friends even if he isn’t here.” He waves you goodbye before returning to your mutual posse of friends.

You wave back at them, your expression slowly turning into a solemn one. “I’ll miss ya guys too.”

Grabbing your trusty wireless headphones, you make your way down the block. Sticking random name-tags you drew this morning to distract yourself from the overflowing anxiety in your system.

Unfortunately, it never is a good idea to be so distracted when walking by yourself.

“Contra!” You hissed as your body hit the pavement. No doubt ruining your uniform that your mother painstakingly agonized over getting perfect and neat for your first day.

Then, the sound of a police siren entered your ears.

Can your day get any worse?

“What did I tell you about not looking both sides twice before crossing the streets?”

Your father’s sermon began.

This . . . was going to be a long ride.

“That I shouldn’t do it.” You replied, completely uninterested in the conversation and looking out from the window.

“You’re lucky it was me y’know! What if some deranged man decided to run you over?”

Your faced smooshed on your hand as your elbow rested on the window sill. “I’d send my cop of a father after them then.”

“Don’t act cute with me [Y/N].”

“But it works oh, so, well.”

Your father sighed, “It does.”

“But with great ability comes great accountability!

“Yeah yeah, that isn’t how the saying goes! . . . It was my bad it won’t happen ag…” Right as you were about to tune out of the interaction with your father once more you notice a bunch of people looking towards your direction.

People you knew.

And now they were taking pictures.

“Wow, aren’t you the popular kid?”

“Mier — Can’t you run the red light or shout at them or something? My poor privacy is being invaded!” You desperately tried to hide yourself with your hands but to no avail. The sounds of clicking only grow louder, and your father’s pace on the car slower.

“Yeah yeah~ not this cop.”

“Papa!”

Suddenly, the attention is ripped off of you as a loud crashing noise resounds from above. “Woah.”

Your dad flicked his tongue in annoyance as he checked the damages. “Those vigilantes! Red Hood is one thing, but that Spider-man partner of his. I swear. He just swings by without a care in the world. I just got this repaired last week!”

“I think he saved you from having to get yourself fixed as well. You know, in a hospital. The place with all the bills that just tears holes into your wallet.” You checked the situation outside, confirming the lack of interest in your situation as people crowded spider-man’s fight. “And myself from a mob too. That man’s a whole multitasker and a half.”

“If you ever get a sibling, remind me not to teach them cheek.”

“That if depends on you, yknow.” You gave your dad the smuggest grin you can muster.

Hey, if he’s going to make you face hell for the next few years you might as well give him a portion of it while you had the time.

The car halts, signaling your arrival at the aforementioned hell. “Study well. Our future depends on you, [Y/N]. Love ya.”

“I know.” You groaned, struggling a little to pull your baggage outside of the vehicle and leaving as soon as you got it secured within your grasp.

You are only able to take a few steps when your dad interrupts with the police car’s loudspeaker.

“Where’s my ‘I love you too, papa’ huh?”

“Papa! Seriously?” You screeched, unimaginably embarrassed beyond belief.

“I love you.”

“Right in front of my future peers?”

“I loovveee youuu.”

“On the first day of class?!”

“Mwah mwah—“

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” You relented. Making a sharp turn from facing the originator of your future bully’s material, towards the entrance of Gotham Visions.

Once you get in you make an attempt to greet the people there, but is cut off by their mocking voices referring and imitating the situation earlier.

The embarrassment fills you up once more and you fail to notice your path intersecting with another.

Directly bumping into people seriously knocks the wind out of a dude. That’s probably why those people in those ‘mangas’ he always made you read fell in love at first sight. They were just so light-headed that they couldn’t think clearly.

“P-pretty girl—“

“It’s nice to meet you too.” said pretty girl as she steadied your form. Noticeably less affected by the impact “You’re quite the looker yourself.”

“Ack, sorry! I just get nervous around- yeah.”

She giggled. Oh lord, even her laugh was pretty. “Lovely papa you got there.”

“Augh, you don’t have to remind me.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, slowly regaining your balance.

The bell rings. The real hell has officially begun.

Once pretty girl made sure you were alright, she began running off.

Wow, even the way she ran was pretty.

“W-w-wait, what’s your name?”

“Gwen!”

You sighed as left you behind in the crowd of students.

This wasn’t so bad, you thought. You made one acquaintance at the very least. Maybe your new life at this school would be better.

Your new life at Gotham Visions was, in fact, not getting better.

You were fumbling through the motions like a newborn thrown to the wolves. If you hadn’t built a relatively tight knit friendship with Gwen you were sure you would have ran away by now.

Everyone always ignored you when you greeted them. Your dormmate didn’t even see you as someone worthy to interact with and would often stay awake at ungodly hours doing whatever the hell he was doing on his laptop while you suffered from his ‘background music.’ Your parents only ever talked to you about academics when it was the last thing you wanted on your mind at weekends. You were always, always late to class.

You were practically falling apart at the seams.

You just . . . wanted everything to end. But you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your parents and so you brought it up to your studies. Purposely failing exams so you’d be kicked out soon enough.

“A zero. How terrible. A few more of those and you’ll have to kick me out huh?” You looked at your Physics teacher with a loosely smug look on your face. You hated Physics, the sciences and mathematics the most out of all subjects. Everything second you spent learning about it could have been spent drawing or doing something you actually adored.

You shrugged, “Maybe I’m just not right for this school.”

“If a person wearing a blindfold picked the answers on a multiple choice exam at random do you know what score they would get?”

“. . . Around 25%?”

“That’s right!” She flicked her pen towards you face before pressing the butt end of it to your paper.

“The only way they would get all the answers wrong . . . “ She then twirls around, marking your grade from 0 to 100 by placing the respective numbers to each side. “Is to know which answers are right.

“You’re trying to quit, and I’m not going to let you.” The smug look only your face slowly dissipates and transfers to her own visage. “Now I know you’ll probably try to worm yourself out of this which is why I’m calling in back-up.”

“Wayne.” The woman moved her gaze to your classmate. A strained smile on her lips as she stared him down.

You didn’t know the billionaire’s son that well, or any of your peers but Gwen for that matter. Just that he was as stuck up as his gelled up hair. Always sneering at you whenever you had to sit beside him with those uncannily pretty green eyes of his. You thought that it may have been your smell or something. Maybe he could tell how poor you are in comparison by your scent. But judging by the fact that he was just as much of a loner as you were if not more, you’re beginning to think otherwise.

“I’m assigning you two an essay, not on physics but on yourselves. What kind of person you want to be. I know you two are quite different in terms of personality and backgrounds, but I have a feeling it’ll all work out.” She walked behind the two of you, roughly placing her hands on both of your shoulders before squeezing you closer together. “And no, Damian. I’ll know if you decide to finish it all yourself. Don’t test me.”

“You two are dismissed!”

Damian takes one look at you and you can tell he’s listed a thousand things he disliked about you already. He re-secured his backpack prior to giving you one, heftily stern warning. “Listen, we’re going to meet at my house this weekend. 6pm. Don’t be late.”

“Sure! Where’s your . . .” and before you could even complete your question, he was gone. Just like that. “. . .house. . .”

You grabbed your own belongings with a moan; betting that the trust fund kid’s own probably costed a hundred if not a thousand more times than yours.

You swiftly go to your room. Mind completely empty and disassociated before an idea crosses your head.

You dial in the numbers on your phone before you could even think properly.

“Hey, Unc. Mind if I come over?”

No matter where you went. The route to your Uncle Aaron’s house was always in the back of your head. He was your true home. The only man who understood you — who made the effort to understand you.

You spot him on his couch, looking as cool and swag as ever with his legs spread a little bit apart. He laughed as you smooshed your face to his window before opening it and letting you tumble into his abode.

You lazily dropped the bag you brought filled with spray paint.

He patted your head and massaged your scalp, the stress you felt already noticed and acknowledged. “Sup little dude. You lookin’ down. Is this about . . .”

“What? No. I’ve already moved on—“You shook your head. In all honesty, the only good part about Gotham Visions was that it kept you distracted from grief. But before you could continue you spot a familiar image settled in a frame. Emotions started crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. “You . . . kept the picture.”

Aaron rubbed his thumb across your cheek as your eyes began watering, “You know I can bring you over to visit him. It’s pretty close by y’know.”

“I- I think I’m good. I came here to just chill out, y’know?”

“Let’s go, I know a spot we can let some of that pent up art juice out.”

A smile. A real one. Not one you forced on yourself whenever you met with your classmates, Gwen or your parents started to make a reprise on your face. You almost don’t remember the last time you did it because of your emotions and not due of the façade of being okay.

“See ya.”

You take one last look at the photo before rushing out with your uncle.

“Mig.”

PLEASE MAKE SURE THAT YOU CAN BE TAGGED BEFORE REQUESTING TO BE ADDED.

taglist: @yell0wdreams @humanoid606 @holybatflapexpert @girlcrafter408 @imbiafandbored @pinkandpurplejellyfish @miwsolovely @manduse @gamersansblog @kiyomisan @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl @hakudaru @sleepy-maenad @violet2507 @whoseaweeb @crystalsbirds @rosa11215 @literalawkwardsimp @guy-who-loves-writing-shit @ghestie93 @bussinbussiz @animelover745-blog @phoenixgurl030 @speckle-meow-meow @mysteriouslyfantasticthief @beta-is-sleeping @steadyengineergiver @day-dreams-posts @carollise @mothintheskies @paranoiac-666 @sanisba42 @ghestie93 @meilinswishingwell @7074lly @wtvbabes @wild-mushroom-soup @yourcutelittlegayfriend @demonofchaos27 @altusha @proffesorbunny @paimon105 @mymoonmeow @kidarachnid982 @mitskistannn @manwagirl @snowwy-night @androgynouscollectortimetraveler @moonchild-cupcake @duskismoo @lanecass @villainfan @the1an0n1y @bitchotine @fuck-the-reaper @siphite @mel-star636 @sleeplessapples @trickysnack19 @thatone-gayweeb @deliriousposts @serenitysmind @swagbucksjester @starwritesyanderes @gyaruismind @gaozorous-rex-blog

[yanteetle]

May i request for ummmmm more yandere Mikey?? I just love him sm, and i just love your art soooo much!

"i dunno, He's nice and all... but there's something off about him. I can feel it.."

Let's be real, y/n was bound to talk about Mikey's weird behavior at some point. Let's only hope his eavesdropping doesn't result in any more bloodshed than necessary…

I tried to make it look creepy. Kinda failed at that, but it was a fun drawing to work on in the end! I want to work on more stalker-themed drawings in the future, they're surprisingly energizing to work on! It was kind of a challenge working on the lighting for this one, but I made it work.. Somewhat. If someone wants to take this and add some color and extra life to it, feel free!

[yanderedrabbles]

Misery - Part One

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

The first time you learnt about the blizzard was when you started driving through it.

It was a stupid, stupid thing to do, but you had no other options. Your ancient Mini was perfectly serviceable down south where it never snowed but up in the Rockies it chugged along like a consumptive- hacking at every incline.

And you couldn't stop and wait it out either.

You were terribly low on fuel, hideously under dressed for the weather and frankly terrified of the steep drop off beside the road.

So you did what you thought was the smart thing. Turned your headlights up, leaned forward and prayed that you were on the right side of the road.

You might have even made it out unscathed, had your phone not started ringing. You glanced away for a second - just one damn second - and the next thing you knew the ground and the sky had switched places and you were in a whole world of hurt.

You hadn't gone off the cliff, lucky you, but you missed a sharp bend and sent your poor car rolling down a half mile of hill. And your poor self into a concussion.

What a great start to a holiday, right?

Your head was aching, your were bleeding onto your good cashmere sweater and your whole lower left leg was a ball of searing fire. Which would have been pretty damn worrying if it weren't for the even greater worry - it was below freezing, you were off the road in the middle of a blizzard and you were about to pass out.

You were dimly aware of a voice cutting through your stupor. And a pair of strong hands on your face. Beyond that, the rest of you insisted on drifting back into unconsciousness. Which was frankly a rather rude thing to do when you're being rescued from almost certain frostbite.

And so you tried to fight off the wave of dizziness and thank your saviour. You managed to open your eyes just a slit and found yourself looking at a dark sky and a flurry of snow. And someone above you, carrying you. You couldn't make out their face but dimly you realised that they must be ridiculously strong to carry you when you were entirely dead weight.

You giggled a little and the face turned towards you.

"I've always wanted a buff angel," you slurred and then fell straight back into unconsciousness.

There was a trail of blood on the stark white snow that led from your car to the stranger's Jeep, but the blizzard was relentless and before the Jeep's tail lights were out of sight, the blood was already covered. And in the morning, your car - which was already bonnet deep in a snowbank- would be buried too.

The only person who knew you crashed off the old I76 was the man who found you.

Next Chapter

Masterlist

[suiana]

"Rewind?"

As a patient in a hospital, you swear that you're living the same day over and over. However, your doctor assures you that you're simply hallucinating.

Warnings: manipulation, obsession, classic yandere stuff idk, gn reader

[Day 2]

A warm breeze kisses your skin gently, the smell of freshly cut flowers as well as sanitized equipment invades your senses as you rub your eyes and let out a soft yawn.

Waking up in the same hospital bed, you smile as the thought of getting better fills your thoughts. Yes! A brand new day! You can already feel your body getting better and better!

"I can't wait to finally leave this place..."

You mutter to yourself, smiling softly as a soft knock comes from outside. You feel your heart race as the sigh of someone familiar enters, a small paper bag of baked goodies in one hand as he smiles down at you kindly.

"Doctor!"

"Well hello to you too, y/n."

You greet cheerfully, beaming at the handsome doctor who walks over to you with a smile who greets you back with a soft smile. You feel your heart warm slightly at him, butterflies in your tummy as he comes close to you.

Doctor Anthony Eurwen.

That's who he was. A genius young man who became a doctor at the age of 24. He was highly respected in the medical field, having achieved so much at his young age and right now, he's your doctor. Well, he has been for quite some time now. You suppose 3 months now?

He takes care of you personally and you wouldn't have it any other way. Why would you? A genius doctor caring for you one on one! You would have to be a fool to pass up this opportunity! Not to mention the fact that he was quite dashing...

Neat black hair along with brown eyes that shined golden under the sun, his facial features were no joke.

You were sure he had both girls and guys chasing after him. I mean, he was very handsome, intelligent, and had a nice personality. What isn't there to love about him?

...And that's why you developed a small crush on him.

Not like you'd ever confess though! You knew you'd be rejected in an instant, so there was really no point in trying in the first place. Plus, you knew that it was against ethics for a doctor to date a patient they're caring for. If you wanted to try your luck you'd have to wait until you were well enough to go home.

"y/n? You're spacing out, are you okay?"

You snap out of your thoughts, blinking repeatedly as your doctor presses a hand against your forehead in a worry. You immediately shake your head, laughing awkwardly as you feel your cheeks flush a dark hue.

"Ha-ha... Doctor I'm fine! Just... daydreaming is all!"

You choke out, smiling awkwardly at your doctor who purses his lips, clearly unconvinced by your words.

"Really? Hm... If you say so."

Doctor Eurwen mumbles, reluctantly taking his hand away from your forehead. You see him pause for a second, grip tightening on the paper bag of baked delights before relaxing.

"If you're not feeling well, you must tell me, y/n. I am your doctor and I just want you to get better."

He sighs, looking at you with a... loving? look in his eyes. Huh... loving? You never thought you'd describe his eyes as loving, especially towards you of all people! Haha, maybe it's a platonic type of love!

You nod at him, smiling awkwardly before looking at the small paper bag he held before gesturing to it.

"Doctor, what's that? Is that for me?"

You hum, staring curiously at the bag that smelled wonderful. You wonder whether he bought that for you or for himself. Or maybe he bought it for both of you to share?He'd do that once in a while when he was feeling hungry.

Doctor Eurwen looks down at the paper bag, smiling slightly as he places it on your table, opening it before taking out a small croissant.

"It's for both of us. I was hungry and bought a croissant for myself. Then I thought I'd get my favourite patient a little something as well."

He hums, pushing the small bag towards you as he munches on his croissant. You feel your heart flutter at his words, eyes widening as you look at the paper bag that carried another croissant in it. Ah, so he did get it for you! How nice of him...

"Thank you doctor, you really didn't have to. The hospital will get me breakfast later..."

"Don't worry about it, just treat this as a small snack."

He chuckles, smiling at you before he takes out his phone to show you a picture of his dog. Right! He had a dachshund dog that he treated like his own daughter!

"Milly gained some weight recently. She's been eating too much. I should reduce her treats."

The young doctor sighs, showing you some videos of his beloved puppy before looking at you with a cheeky grin. You can't help but feel your heart skip a beat at his attractive face.

"y/n, after you get better, we should go for a walk sometime. We can walk Milly together."

He proposes, looking down at his phone before chuckling softly. His cheeks were a soft pink, eyes clouded with happiness as you freeze in place, gulping nervously as you feel yourself grow hot at the sight of your doctor.

You try to answer, but your mouth was dry and your brain refused to cooperate normally, rendering your ability to speak useless at the sight of the handsome man. So you opted to nodding instead, laughing awkwardly as you avert your eyes elsewhere.

Damn, that was embarrassing as hell.

"Anyway, I'll be back with your medicine and check up later. Enjoy the croissant I got for you."

He mumbles, backing away as he pats your head. You watch as he leaves the room quietly, not mentioning anything about your flustered state. As soon as he was gone and the door to your room clicked shut, you let out a silent sigh of relief.

Thank god he left. You swear that you'd die from embarrassment if he remained in your presence any longer.

Shaking your head, you stretch slightly before looking out the window. What a beautiful day it was today! You can't wait for later and the following days to come!

...

A warm breeze kisses your skin gently, the smell of freshly cut flowers as well as sanitized equipment invades your senses as you rub your eyes and let out a soft yawn.

You immediately shoot out of bed, eyes wide as you observe your surroundings cautiously.

What? Flowers? You were sure that Doctor Eurwen removed them yesterday after the check-up...

You stare at the clear vase in confusion, looking around your room before the footsteps of someone familiar walks in. Doctor Eurwen! Maybe he'd know what's up!

"Doctor!"

However, you feel your heart sink slightly at the sight of the same small paper bag that you were quite sure you threw away yesterday. What the hell was going on? Oh, wait, the bakery was nearby so he migt've just gotten it again today, right? Haha...

"Well hello to you too, y/n."

What the- The same exact greeting too? Nah, this has to be some sort of joke. Right, a joke! He probably placed the flowers back there to play a little prank on you... Of course!

"Doctor, is- is this a joke? Haha... You did the same thing yesterday..."

"What? y/n are you alright? What are you talking about?"

Doctor Eurwen frowns at your words, walking towards you as he places the small paper bag down and reaches out his hand to touch your forehead. You can't help but flinch at his touch, looking up at him with a confused expression.

"Doctor, I swear you threw those flowers out yesterday! And you definitely bought the same exact pastries! That bag looks exactly like yesterday's! Why are you playing a prank on me?"

You whimper, looking at him as you look for him for an answer. Unfortunately, all you got was his concerned gaze and furrowed eyebrows as an answer.

"y/n, I didn't do that... Are you okay? Are you having delusions again? Maybe we should adminster you a different medicine..."

You stare at him in shock, not understanding what was happening. Wait, you were so sure that yesterday actually happened. Is this just a dream? But it can't be! Everything feels too real!

"Anyway, It's for both of us. I was hungry and bought a croissant for myself. Then I thought I'd get my favourite patient a little something as well."

Doctor Eurwen mumbles, gesturing to the paper bag of goodies on your table. But before you could protest any further, he says something which sends you into even more of a frenzy.

"Milly gained some weight recently. She's been eating too much. I should reduce her treats."

What the hell? That was the same exact line as from yesterday! You furrow your eyebrows at the doctor, chewing on your bottom lip as he talks about his pet dog before leaving the room, exactly the same way as yesterday. After he left, you couldn't help but throw the croissant into the trashbin.

Just what the hell was going on?

[riniworld]

your only one

sorcerer!oc x magic!student

warnings|| mention of an injury, blood.

reference|| you, y/n, use of them two times.

a/n|| yall i have been writing this since jun 29 😭.

you were only a child when you got abandoned.

in a world where magic is forbidden, you were born with it, how? you didn't know, not your father nor your mather had magic, maybe it's just the cruel rule of the world, or your bad luck.

you should have been dead, long ago, but your parents loved you so much, you think. they managed to take you out of the city before anyone can hurt you, you don't remember alot of the events, foggy memories, stormy night, a tall man and his words "run...to a better place, anywhere away from here." and silent. you wonder, did they ever told you that they love you? not that you care that much, at least.

now, after eighteen years, you're living with your master in magic, in a village filled with magicians, it's hidden with a spell so no none magic person can see it.

he's the one who found you in the wild, he helped you, giving you a life and a family, you had always seen aurelius as a big brother, but did he?

"Y/N! come on! wake up!" aurelius voice echo in the small house.

you stir a little as you open your eyes and roll on your back looking at the roof untill you come to your senses, today you'll work with your master after years of studying under him.

you hop out of the bed in excitement, you've been waiting for this day to come for ages.

you stretched your body,regaining your energy, before you can go to do your morning routine, you hear a knock on your door and before you can respond the person come in.

"he-ah you're awake? why didn't you say something?." aurelius said as he enters the room.

"good mornin' master,sorry, i just woke up." you say with a sheepish smile.

"figured so." aurelius chuckle, pointing at your state,and made his way out of the room "come quickly then, beofre the breakfast gets cold." he says before closing the door behind him.

you run down the stairs in a hurry, the delicious smell getting closer, making your stomach growl.

you see your aunt, aurelius mother, bringing the food on the table, you go to help her.

"good mornin' aunty." you say as you take the plates from her hands.

"morning dear." she followed behind you.

you put the plates on the table and sit down, across from aurelius mother.

"so where is master?" you ask when you didn't notice aurelius on the table.

"he got an emergency medicine request, so he had to go to the clinic." she said sitting down, "he said he'll-" she begin but you where nowhere to see.

you appear behind aurelius,it was one of the simple spells he taught you,teleportation.

"that was faster than i thought" he says without looking at you,mixing some ingredients in a bowl.

you walk beside him, watching what he's doing "it was supposed to be my first day working with you, you can't just come without telling me."

"it's not the work hours yet , it was an emergency." he says matter of fact.

"even though..." you mutter to yourself.

"but you're here anyway so mind bringing me a small bottle glass from there?" he points to a shelf filled with glasses of all sizes and shapes.

"..right away" you walk to the shelf and look for what he wants "to whom is the medicine anyway?" you ask.

"to salami's daughter, her temperature is high...again" he sighs "i told him to not let her tires herself out in using her powers but i don't know who's the stubborn one in them."

"poor girl." you say as you hand him the glass.

"you put it in the bottle, weren't you just whining about working,so here." he says as he walks to the side giving you space to the bowl.

your eyes lit up in excitement as you begin to put the medicine in the bottle,since it's magic, everything should be put carefully so as a starter that was much of a trust aurelius has put on you.

"be careful." he whisper, his breath tickling your side, you shoukd be focused on the medicine but you're hyper aware of aurelius every move, maybe because you're nervous..?...or is he a little bit too close this time?

trying to not mess this up,while at the same time aurelius's present is heavy for some reason, you take a scoop from the bowl and put it in the bottle slowly, then repeated this a few times until the glass filled to the top.

"excellent." aurelius praises you as soon as the glass filled, he took the glass from your hand,his fingers brushing yours.

"now, may you take the medicine to salami's house?" he say as he close the glass bottle with a wooden piece "I'll open the store."

"sure." you say in a distant tone, you're still thinking about his intimidated presence a moment ago, that was the first time you feel like that by aurelius.

the next days were heaven to you and hell to aurelius.

the work was easier when the two of you did it together, and you were enjoying every second of it, how can you not when it's your dream?

and aurelius was happy that you loved what you did, and you were very passionate about it too, but he can't shake the bothering feeling in his chest whenever you talked to a client, he wasn't stupid he knew that he had fallen for you long ago.

but when he glanced at you and saw you talking to another client, that's wasn't the feeling he's used to, it's something dark, it's sting, and hurt.

he tried to control it and he couldn't, it's too strong for him to just ignore it, a lot of voices in his head, and it certainly were not angles, but he won't listen to them, after all your happiness is more important..

or it was more important before the last straw hit him.

"doctor!" someone yell, it was followed by a loud thud.

when you ran out of the back room to see what happened, you were greeted by a man carrying an unconscious man on his back...and he was bleeding!

the man looked at you, he was panicing "y/n! where is doctor aurelius?!"

"put him on that bed I'll take care of him!" you said frantically.

the man did what you told him quickly, the other groan as he put down, you left his shirt up,inspecting the wound on his stomach, it wasn't that deep but it sure was bleeding heavily.

"what happened?" you ask the man while taking a cloth bandage it on the other's wound to press temporarily,then start moving around preparing an ointment.

"we were hunting and-and a wild boar attacked us out of nowhere" he explained.

"are you okay?" you look up at him from the mixing bowl worriedly.

"uh-y-yes, yes I'm fine,but my friend isn't."

"don't worry I'll do everything i can do to help him"

you make the ointment as fast as you can,while also trying not to make a mistake, it's not common for someone to get an injury here, the people aren't alot anyway, so it was rare that you see aurelius treat one, but good thing he did teach you how to anyway.

not 15 minutes before you finish it, then take it quickly to the patient,you take off the bandage and the cloth, taking another cloth to clean the wound properly before putting the ointment on his injury, very carefully as to not press on it.

you were focusing entirely on it before you hear glass shattering that makes you jump and stop, you look up to the direction the sound came from in surprise, only to see aurelius standing in the doorway, the shattering came from a jar he has dropped.

"what are you doing?" his tone was natural, but his gaze was one of madness, a man lying down, your hand on his bare stomach, how can he not be mad?.

before you can reply the man spoke "doctor aurelius! please my friend is injured!" the man was nearly screaming but aurelius kept holding your gaze, you don't know why his stare gives you chills, you have never been scared of him but now? now he's not him.

aurelius took all the work, he treated the patient and told his friend to take him home and that he's going to visit between days.

now it's only awkward in the clinic,you know he's mad at you,but for what?.

"mas-"

"go home, you need to rest." he cut you off, his tone leaving no room to argue so you nod and left.

'why am i that angry, it was my choice to teach them and making them work with me, but god that's only testing me.....what i did was wrong..yes i shall fix this, and start all over again'

he unlock a box,and take a book from inside «forbidden magic» was the title.

may the world forgive him but he needs to do this.

a soft knock on your door, it's late but you couldn't sleep,"come in" hoping it was your master, and for your relief it was.

"hey,wanna join me for a drink on the rooftop?" he was holding two cups in his hands.

"sure" you agree, it wasn't uncommon for you two to drink on the rooftop, not necessarily alcohol, but it was refreshing.

"are you upset with me?" you ask warily, as you take a sip from your drink.

"upset? no why would i silly?" he says with a smile, it sounded genuine so you smiled back, taking another long sip from your drink.

aurelius was talking, you can hear his voice, but you can't make out most of what he is saying, your head throbbing and you feel dizzy,you eyes blurry.

"are y-k-ay?" you made out a few letters from what aurelius saying but you couldn't stay awake long before you fell down, the last thing you felt was a pair of hands holding you and then everything is dark.

"ey- y/n? y/n!" you wake up at someone, calling a name, your eyesight got better and you saw who it was.

"aurelius?" that came out naturally, like you knew him, did you? you do...a few image of him appear in the back of your head, but who exactly is he? why you know him?..wait who are you?

"oh thank god, you're awake" he exhale in relief

when he saw your confused expression he returned it "why are you looking at me like that?" he asks

"i don't know...i don't remember anything." you say hesitatly.

"what you don't remember? you just said my name"

"i-..i didn't think..it just came out,i don't know who are you exactly."

for a moment you swear you catch him smiling but it disappeared quickly.

"oh my...the accident must have really affected you." his tone is filled with sadness.

accident?

"what accident?" you ask.

"it's not worth mentioning, that might only hurt you." you trusted him..for some reason you did, but you can't tell why.

"then who are you?"

aurelius smile softly and look you in the eyes "I'm your husband"

have a good day/night♡

[gracemain919]

The Priest (oc): Short story

(The Fungus universe)

Summary: You try and distract the Priest from a very important duty.

Tw: Yandere, oral sex, slight mentions of murder and abuse

You Can’t Leave Without a Reward.

No… you shouldn't have heard that. Yet, you did. An unintentional snoop that caused you to overhear a certain mission. One where the Entertainers would wreak havoc over an enemy site… The mere mention of such actions struck fear into your mind. The site wanted any enemy to stay weak, so this could cause so many losses… So many deaths…

This leaves you with the results of many unsure decisions. Body covered with the most unstable towel at the empty dinner table.

You were never a flirt, you had never tried to get any of their sexual attention, yet strangely enough, this was your first idea. Which to come to think of it? You were regretting it by the second. God, if you fail you are just going to look stupid and idiotic, but you had to at least try.

The entertainers worked in a group, special missions like that required the three of them. If one doesn't show up, the mission gets delayed along with a very long earful by the present members.

So you just had to hold one of them back just long enough… and the only one that felt less dreadful to choose was Henry. The Priest. He was strong-willed but… it was better than choosing Doppelganger.

Waiting around the empty room, the clock getting dangerously close to the hour. He always showed up in the dinning room before missions. For the mere fact of grabbing a drink. He would get there… At any moment… He should…

As more time passed, the sweatier you felt. The towel felt like it was crushing your lungs by the way your breath was being stolen by panic. If he didn't come… No, he will. He will-

It was like an angel had come. The door suddenly being opened to reveal the familiar older man. Bag in hand, he strolled inside before abruptly stopping. He seemed surprised by your presence and attire, his eyes only glancing at your body before diverting his gaze toward your face with haste. As if ashamed of his wandering eyes.

“My lord, didn't expect you to be here. Did no one wash your clothes?” he asked, making his way to the fridge… Grabbing himself a drink, turning back to you.

Ok, you had his attention… Now… what do you do? You didn't think so far ahead. Fuck!

“Uh, no. I had… clothes. I just thought…”

Come on, you had to think. You could say something better. You just had to think.

“I thought you… uh, deserved a reward today. Yeah”

Came out with the worst stutter you ever thought was possible. No joke, no one would ever even consider that as flirtation. Nevertheless, the man seemed moved. Curiosity displayed clearly on his features, along with a slight shade of red on his cheeks. Almost unnoticeable if you aren't paying proper attention.

“A reward? I must say I would appreciate anything you give me. Yet… for what reason may I ask?”

“Uh, because… because,” Your eyes lowered for a second, trying to come up with an answer. “Because you are extremely… helpful and you have worked hard for the people on your floor… so I want to thank you for that.”

You smiled, trying to push away any doubt in his mind, but his broken gaze towards the clock scared you. He eyed the time with slight worry before turning toward you once more. “What may the reward be?”

God, he isn’t an idiot… Why is he acting like this?

You fiddled with the towel, your fingers playfully circling the fabric. Your bust was practically on display, the towel only covering the bottom half: barely. “Just a very well-known reward… Wouldn’t you like that?”

You would think you look like a good meal. The corrupted flaunt over for ankles, so imagine your surprise when he looked away. “I’m sorry… my lord. I have something to do. Maybe when I come back-”

“What!” your anger couldn't help but show, but you quickly retracted your sentence. Eating away your own venom and swallowing it whole. “I mean why?”

“I… have something to do. I'm truly very sorry I can't indulge you in such acts at this moment”

“If you refuse you will return to nothing” the words came out suddenly and coldly. Failure wasn't allowed and if the sweat that coated your skin was any indicator, it would indicate how little options you had. “I got all prepared just for you… to turn me down?” You played the part, pouting, and everything. Observing as his resolve and will started to falter with each passing moment. Just for a little while… that's all you needed.

However, he didn't seem sure. His eyes returned to your form, tearing into your skin while debating the clock. Every single flick to the clock breaking your already hurt dignity. So, in a moment, in a mere moment, you made a decision. One that barely crossed your mind, still your body followed. You let the towel drop to the floor showing everything you had to offer. Every inch of your skin was exposed, while the bottom half of your body was hidden by the dinner table. A treat just inches away from his grasp…

….

To hell with the mission. How many times has the Doppelganger come in late for less dire reasons? Hundreds!

It was as if a light switch was flicked. Suddenly the distance between the both of you started getting smaller and smaller, each step around the table sending shivers down your spine.

“Fine, I will take your… gracious gift. My lord,” the man muttered, his voice breathless as he stood by your side. Fingers up your neck in gentle caresses while his eyes were focusing on all the wrong places. His eyes showed glee, the clock long forgotten by the way he tilted your head, trapping you in a deep kiss.

A familiar warmth invaded your mouth but you accepted the sensation. The man himself let out a sly moan before taking a moment to breathe…

“I love you. Truly” the man said, a sigh leaving his lips as if he was in a dream. “Let me just…”

“You can do anything,” you said plainly, not being able to hide the blush on your face, but Henry chuckled shaking his head. “I don't wish to do anything with my clothes off, my lord.”

Huh… peculiar.

His hands settled on your closed hips, a faint smile on his face. He gave the flesh a squeeze before gently prying your legs open for his patient gaze. He took his time eyeing every nook and cranny you so kindly bestowed upon him, yet the main event had to be done, and he was more than willing. He got down on his knees causing your mind to backtrack on everything you had ever wished for. You wished for failure and success, so the end result was never going to please you. So it only made sense the disdain building in your heart by his every touch.

In spite of the disgust you felt, you couldn't lie and say that they didn't make you feel… pretty. You felt wanted… in a way even if it only was for your body or your presence.

The way his soft hands sunk into your things before dipping his head. You felt his breath on your regions and any proper lover would look and watch their partner during such acts but you preferred to observe the clock. Anything to distract you from the wet feeling of his tongue giving your cunt some delicate attention. One hand poked at your thigh, pushing it aside while the other opened your precious flower for his ministrations.

The quiet room soon started to echo your decisions. The laps of his tongue along with the slight moans leaving you both. He acted as if eating a divine meal and you felt disgusting in a way… You weren't divine, you weren't anything special, yet he practically drooled by your mere taste.

The sensation almost made you forget the time… 25 minutes. 10 trying to convince him and the other having to sit in this humiliating position. Legs raised in order for him to indulge in his tastes, hardly taking breaks to breath air. Truly impressive, you could feel flattered…

Your body started feeling hot, resting your head against the chair as your legs tightened against his head. Practically griding your body against him in search. In search of a release, one he felt happy to give, only if the door didn't open right in the middle of it.

….

It seems the entertainers will have to reschedule such a mission. Oops.

(Since he won the pull. So here is the story;-;)

[crimson-kisses]

彼岸花

Characters/fandoms/pairings: Yandere! Honda Kiku || Japan [Hetalia] x F! Reader.

Warning: This story will contain explicit yandere themes, proceed with caution [includes mentions of graphic violence and implied stalking]

Author's note: this idea for a short drabble had been on my mind for days after seeing this yandere japan fanart by @purplemistbutterfly and I just had to write it. Wc- 4, 557.

Also, remember that lot has been going around the world lately, try to educate yourself and contribute as much as you can.

The glow of neon lights wrapped around you like a comforting embrace as you lounged on a plush sofa, the strains of your own recordings playing softly in the background. Each note echoed through the modest bar, creating a dreamy atmosphere that felt almost otherworldly. The chandelier flickered, casting delicate colors across the room, and for a moment, you felt suspended in a haze, as if the world around you had faded away.

In the background, the clinking of glasses and the soft murmur of conversation filled the air. A waitress, young and diligent, bustled about, balancing trays of drinks with practiced grace, exchanging light banter with the bartender, who was busy mixing cocktails. Their laughter mingled with the music, a gentle reminder of the life that pulsed through the club as it prepared for the evening rush.

With a soft sigh, you swung your legs off the sofa, the hem of your dress swirling around you for an instant. The sharp click of your heels against the floor grounded you, pulling you back into the moment.

You absentmindedly twirled a strand of your hair around your fingers, a pang of longing washing over you. How you wished you could sing forever—such a melodramatic thought, you mused.

Just then, a waitress removed the ashtray from the coffee table, her movements graceful. She caught your eye and offered a warm smile, one that reflected the admiration so many in this lively city had for you. Young yet industrious, she, like others, found joy in your performances, and their support felt like a quiet reminder of your modest fame.

It was the perfect balance—enough recognition to feel appreciated, yet not so much that it became overwhelming. You cherished this intimate space, where your talent was seen and valued, untainted by the harsh demands of larger stages.

With a roll of your shoulders, you decided to freshen up. You applied a light layer of makeup, your dress—a flowing creation with delicate crow motifs—draped around your legs. The fabric shifted with each subtle movement, catching the light in a way that made the motifs seem alive.

You slipped on your heels and styled your hair with careful hands, confident in your skill, the way you always did before a performance. After sending away the helpful crew who insisted on doing it for you, you prepared to step into the night, ready to captivate once more.

The stage shimmered like a midnight sky, lit with soft, silvery lights that twinkled like distant stars. You felt like a solitary bird, singing a lullaby that might go unheard by the vastness of the world, yet here, every note held significance. The melody flowed from your lips, soft and effortless, as your body swayed gently to the rhythm.

The rest of the world faded away, leaving just you, the music, and the connection with those who listened. It was ironic, really—this was when most eyes were on you, and yet you felt as though you were suspended in a private world of your own making.

The audience was a mix of familiar faces and newcomers, all drawn in by the magic you created on stage. Among them were well-dressed gentlemen, some leaning back with arms crossed, others inching forward, their eyes following your every move with intrigued intensity. Nearby, women whispered excitedly, their giggles escaping as they listened. Business elites, seeking respite from the fast-paced world outside, sat quietly, their faces softening as they allowed themselves to relax, appreciating the intimacy of this setting over the grandeur of larger performances.

At other tables, university students exchanged glances between sips of their drinks, entranced by your voice, some even whispering your name as though they’d stumbled upon a secret treasure. Local workers, still in their uniforms, unwound from their long shifts, leaning back in their chairs with drinks in hand, their faces softened with quiet smiles as your melody soothed their weary souls.

In the background, the diligent staff moved seamlessly through the space, balancing trays of drinks, refilling glasses, and clearing tables. The bartender, a seasoned expert with quick hands, mixed cocktails with the precision of an artist, casting the occasional glance toward the stage, a faint smile always tugging at his lips. The waitstaff worked with a rhythm of their own, exchanging light banter with regulars and newcomers alike.

They were your quiet champions, always turning down the big offers from record companies that sought to pull you into the commercialized world of fame. They knew, as you did, that this setting was where you truly wished to be.

Your performance was more than just a routine; it was an extension of yourself, a moment of vulnerability wrapped in music. The spotlight gently framed your figure, casting a soft glow that danced with the notes as they escaped your lips. Your hands lifted, almost as if guiding the melody itself, and for those moments on stage, nothing else mattered.

The sway of your dress, adorned with delicate crow motifs, moved like shadows across the floor, adding an air of mystery to your presence.

And though you weren’t chasing the grandeur of fame, there was a certain power in these performances. The connection you felt with the audience—each gaze, each whisper of your name—made you feel seen in ways that the glare of the public eye never could.

You weren’t a star striving to shine in the vastness of the sky; you were the moon casting light over an enchanted crowd, and in this bar, in this moment, that was enough.

What you didn’t notice was the quiet presence lingering at the edge of the room, like a shadow among the warm glow of lights. Hidden in the dim corners, a pair of dark, inscrutable eyes watched you—deep and unfathomable, reminiscent of still waters reflecting a moonlit sky.

His gaze followed your every movement, simmering with an adoration that burned slowly, as insidious as poison, blending seamlessly with the night. And just before you left the stage, he muttered softly to himself, barely audible over the music,

“カラスは…これから来るものの前兆だ。”

His lips curled into a subtle, unsettling smile, as though the omen had already taken root.

“ダーリン。”

════════════════════════════

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision when Feliciano had eagerly dragged Kiku out of the house, his voice embarrassingly loud in front of everyone. With excitement gleaming in his eyes, he insisted that Kiku join him at a nearby bar, one he claimed had a cozy atmosphere. 

He went on about the drinks, the people, and especially the woman there whose voice he described as angelic, able to make anyone forget their troubles. Kiku raised an eyebrow—he knew Feliciano, and any woman could be deemed an angel in his eyes, so he wasn’t sure whether anyone could truly live up to that praise.

Despite his reluctance, Kiku followed, feeling a mixture of resignation and annoyance. The last thing he wanted was to be dragged out like this, especially for something so undignified. He could already imagine the kind of chaos Feliciano would create in such a quiet setting.

As they entered the bar, Kiku sighed. The warm lighting and low hum of conversation created a peaceful atmosphere, but he wasn’t impressed. His eyes scanned the room, seeking something of interest to distract himself. That’s when he spotted Ludwig across the room.

Ludwig was seated at a table, his gaze fixed intently on a brunette in a maid outfit who was laughing with a group of friends. Kiku noted how serious Ludwig appeared, his focus unwavering as he studied her every move with an almost unsettling intensity. When their eyes met, Ludwig gave him a brief nod, which Kiku returned with a slight bow. It was typical of Ludwig to maintain such seriousness, even in a casual setting.

Next to Ludwig sat Francis, effortlessly charming a group of businesswomen with his smooth foreign accent. His laughter filled the air easily, a stark contrast to Ludwig’s quiet intensity. Kiku watched the scene with mild amusement. It was familiar, but somehow still entertaining to see Francis working his charm.

Feliciano, oblivious to the dynamics of the group, continued to rave about the bar’s ambiance. Kiku couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh. Maybe there was something to enjoy in this unexpected gathering of familiar faces, but he wasn’t convinced.

Then the music began.

A soft, haunting melody slowly rose, weaving through the air like a gentle current, filling the space around them. Kiku, sinking into his seat in one of the private booths, instinctively turned his focus toward the sound. The bar was cozy, the conversation still flowing around him, but it was the music that truly drew him in.

He glanced toward Ludwig again, who seemed to have relaxed a little, a few drinks in, with the brunette now sitting on his lap. Despite the change in posture, the intensity in Ludwig’s gaze remained. Kiku shifted his focus back to the music, feeling the soft notes caress the air. Despite their slow pace, they held power, quieting the noise in his mind.

The voice that accompanied the melody was captivating—rich, smooth, hypnotic. It settled into Kiku’s chest, making his thoughts slow and his senses sharpen. The world around him dimmed as he focused only on the sound, letting the voice wrap around him like a spell. For a brief moment, he forgot where he was, lost to the music.

As the notes filled him, something shifted inside, like a spark igniting in the stillness of his chest. An unfamiliar hunger stirred—dangerous, intoxicating. The voice, the melody—it awoke something deep within him, something he hadn’t been prepared to feel.

Kiku found himself utterly fixated. His usual caution and restraint were slipping away as the voice continued to draw him in. He couldn’t tear his attention away, lost in the depth of it, as if everything else faded into the background.

From that night on, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He watched you from afar, noting the softness in your manner, the strength in your resolve. You were kind, diligent, and full of quiet grace, drawing him in further with each passing day.

Kiku, always careful, had never allowed himself to indulge in such obsession, but now, something darker began to take hold. He hired someone to hack into your devices, learning your secrets, uncovering the hidden corners of your life. Each discovery only deepened his infatuation.

You lived simply, but there was an undeniable elegance in everything you did. Each morning, you made matcha tea, savoring it slowly as you tended to your modest garden. Cherry blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, chrysanthemums bloomed in vibrant bursts, and bonsai trees stood carefully pruned, each one a testament to your patience.

You had a quiet generosity too—leaving bowls of rice or fish out for the stray cats that wandered into your yard, a small act of kindness that you believed brought good fortune. He watched, fascinated by the peace you found in these little rituals.

In the afternoons, you volunteered at the local community center, helping the elderly with their daily tasks. You prepared sweet treats like mochi and dorayaki, listening to their stories, sharing in their wisdom. You were always engaged, always giving, connecting deeply with the community around you.

And when the seasonal festivals came around, you danced with your neighbors, laughed with friends, and participated in the celebrations that honored yourself. The kindness you spread was subtle but powerful, a thread that tied you to the people around you. To him.

Kiku couldn't stop watching, couldn't stop learning more about you. You were everywhere he looked—your life, your kindness, your quiet grace—it all consumed him, filling the space in his mind, until it became impossible to ignore.

════════════════════════════

"生一緒にいたい"

He repeated it over and over, the words slipping past his lips like a prayer, each time more fervently, each time more desperate. The phrase carved itself into his soul, filling the hollow space within him.

"私のもの…"

His eyes never strayed from you, not once. Always from the shadows, always watching. You didn’t notice him—never did. But he noticed everything. Every little movement you made. Every soft laugh that danced in the air. Each smile was like a dagger of desire. You were his. Only his.

"全てが私のものになる…"

He knew everything about you. The way your hair curled just right, the way your fingers brushed your lips in that nervous habit. The smallest details—details only he could see. He whispered your name to himself, savoring it, imagining the life you would share together, locked away from the world. Just the two of you.

"絶対に、君を失わない…"

Kiku's gaze was unwavering. You were everywhere. In the streets you walked, in the quiet little coffee shop you adored, in the park where you sat with that innocent, too-perfect smile. Everything was etched in his memory. Every single place, every single moment. He would wait. He would wait until you understood—until you realized that the only place you could ever belong was with him. Alone. Together.

“永遠に”

He loved you. More than love—it had become an obsession. A consuming, all-encompassing thing. Each little piece of your life, each small revelation only fanned the flames. How could someone so perfect exist? So effortlessly beautiful, so kind? You were everything he had longed for, everything he needed, and the thought of losing you was unbearable. His thoughts of you filled his every moment, his longing growing, desperate, never-ending.

He loved you. He couldn’t lose you. You were perfect. He loved you. He couldn’t lose you. You were perfect. He loved you. He couldn’t lose you. You were perfect.

He loved you. He couldn’t lose you. You were perfect. You were perfect. He loved you. You were perfect.

He loved you. You were perfect. He loved you. You were perfect. He loved you. You were perfect.

He couldn’t lose you. No. He wouldn’t lose you. Yes. He shouldn’t lose you. You were one of a kind.

Each day passed as if he were observing a film he had forgotten to look over from long ago.

Kiku had fallen deep in love with you. Everything he did was for you. In his mind, there was no difference between love and possession. You were the one thing he could never let go, the one thing that would make him whole.

And when that moment came—he would make sure there was no escape.

════════════════════════════

He had been attending every one of your performances, without fail. No matter the venue—whether it was an intimate gathering or an art house event tucked away from prying eyes—he always found his way there. He relished the exclusivity, the idea that only a select few could appreciate your art. To him, it was magnificent, and every second spent watching you felt sacred.

Soon, your shows became the highlight of his life. He rescheduled meetings, canceled national duties, all to linger in the shadows of your presence. Even during the most critical discussions, his mind often wandered. Politically important matters, ceremonies, decisions—they all paled compared to thoughts of you. Your voice, the arch of your hands, the grace you exuded—it consumed him.

The first time he approached you, you blushed under his gaze, avoiding his eyes as if overwhelmed. That small flicker of vulnerability stayed with him, replaying in his mind, each time more vivid than the last.

Watching you became a ritual, a sacred act. He sent small, thoughtful gifts—flowers from distant lands, hand-written letters, packages left at your door. He wanted you to feel seen, cherished, even if his gestures sometimes unsettled you. He even started bringing trusted officials and friends to witness your art. He wanted to show you off, to see their awe, as they recognized what he had come to adore.

But the closer he tried to get, the more distant you became. You had gently expressed discomfort with his gifts and appearances. His heart sank. That quiet rejection cut deeper than he’d anticipated. He called to you, begged you to reconsider, but you never wavered. Slowly, imperceptibly, you slipped from his grasp.

With every step you took away, his longing grew. Each polite refusal, each avoidance felt like a door closing. He told himself it was just a phase, that you would understand eventually. But time passed, and that hope began to fade, replaced by an aching frustration. How could you pull away from something so sincere? How could you not see how deeply he adored you? Did you truly believe you could escape?

“いや…いや...いや...いや...

いや! いや! いや!, いや!”

════════════════════════════

When he learned you’d be performing for a private group of university graduates, a spark of jealousy ignited deep within him. His jaw clenched as he imagined those men—laughing, cheering, acting as if they truly understood the value of what you offered.

How could they? They weren’t worthy of sharing the same room with you, let alone witnessing you in such an intimate setting. The thought of it, the idea of them being so close, felt like an intrusion into the sanctity he had carefully built around you.

He couldn't let it go. He had to be there. No matter what, nothing could stop him.

He slipped into the crowd unnoticed, taking refuge in a shadowed corner. His eyes never left you. Every movement you made, every gesture, was recorded in his mind. The group of graduates, so self-assured and too eager, didn’t know their place. They had no right to be near you.

He observed them as they settled, talking amongst themselves, casting glances in your direction. Their words grew louder, and Kiku’s grip on his calm began to slip. One man leaned over to his friend with a grin, eyes scanning you up and down. “I bet she’s just as beautiful up close, don’t you think?”

The other chuckled, clearly amused. “I wouldn’t mind finding out.”

The laughter that followed made Kiku’s chest tighten. They were nothing but animals, trying to mark their territory, and you were the prize they sought. But it didn’t stop there. As the evening went on, the men grew bolder. One of them, emboldened by a drink, approached you during a brief break in the performance. He placed his hand on your shoulder with too much familiarity, leaning in too close.

“Such a shame," he said, eyes glinting. "A woman with so much talent, and yet so few people to truly appreciate it." He let his hand linger just a moment too long, his thumb brushing against the back of your neck.

You recoiled slightly, discomfort flashing across your face, but you smiled politely. "Please, I'm fine," you said, your tone steady though Kiku could see the slight tension in your shoulders. "Please refrain."

The man smirked, taking your response as an invitation to press further. “You sure? You’re not one of those shy types, are you?”

You took a step back, holding your composure, but it was too much for Kiku. His pulse quickened. The tightness in his chest grew unbearable. He watched as the others, noticing the scene, began to snicker, sharing looks that made his blood boil. These men didn’t just admire you—they were treating you like an object, their entitled hands and crude remarks making his skin burn.

Kiku’s fists clenched, his breath shallow. His eyes locked onto the man’s hand, still resting on you, his touch inappropriate, invasive. A surge of fury coursed through him. How dare they think they could touch you? How dare they think they had any right to make you feel uncomfortable in any way?

The night had begun to unravel, and so had his patience.

The laughter continued to echo in his ears, mingling with the murmur of the crowd. But Kiku’s gaze remained steady, fixed on the men who dared to ruin this moment. He would let them think they were in control, that this was their night. But they had no idea what they had provoked.

He leaned slightly forward, lips curving into a cold smile. There were consequences. And they didn't even see it coming.

Not like he could help it. The thread had snapped, like the final stroke of a katana slicing through the air, severing the restraint he had so carefully maintained. The fire surged through his veins, fierce and unrelenting, as if Kagutsuchi, the god of flames himself, had set his soul alight. It consumed him—body, mind, and spirit—filling every corner of his being with an overwhelming heat, a rage that pulsed with ancient power.

His hand found the knife on the nearby table. The cold steel felt almost... familiar, as though it had been waiting for him, as if it were an extension of his own will. He raised the blade, the glint of metal flashing like the edge of a sword under moonlight, reflecting the fire now burning in his eyes. With each step toward them, he moved like a shadow, swift and decisive.

At this moment, nothing else mattered.

The first slash was quick, clean, and almost too easy. Blood splattered, painting the floor in red streaks, but Kiku didn’t care. The crimson stain of their lives was nothing compared to the purity of his desire. The warm, thick liquid sprayed across the room like the petals of a sakura in full bloom—scattered and gone in an instant, yet forever marking the earth beneath.

The thought of their hands on you, those impure hands, tainted him to his core. Their very existence had defiled something sacred. His heart thudded in his chest, a rhythmic pulse amid the chaos, his breath quick and uneven. How dare they even think of you like that?

Five of them. Five arrogant, filthy students, too blind to realize their actions, would cost them everything. He couldn’t let them live. Not after what they had tried to do.

“許せない、許せない、どうして…どうして君に触れた?”

The second slash came faster than the first, cutting down one of them as he collapsed to the floor, lifeless. Blood sprayed in a violent arc, mingling with their screams and desperate pleas. Kiku’s rage burned hotter, unstoppable now. They scrambled to escape, but it was too late. Another slash. Another life snuffed out in an instant.

He moved through them like a shadow, his strikes swift and merciless, as precise as death itself. They couldn’t escape. They shouldn’t have touched you. Their blood splattered across the floor, and it felt almost... cathartic.

The fourth one—a desperate, shaking figure—reached for the door in vain. Kiku closed in, catching him in an iron grip. A swift slash across the throat, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless, joining the others.

And then there was just one. The last student. Kiku walked toward him slowly, savoring the terror in his eyes, the hopelessness settling in as he realized there was no escape. His apologies fell on deaf ears; his words were useless. They meant nothing now—not when they had tormented so many others before they tried to harm you.

The final slash was quick, precise, and the last of the five fell without a sound. Kiku stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily, the knife still dripping with their blood. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the steady drip of blood hitting the floor.

He didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t care that he had taken their lives with his own hands. What mattered now was that they would never touch you again.

You were his. And no one, not a single soul, could take that away from him.

════════════════════════════

The knife slipped from Kiku’s fingers, clattering to the floor with a metallic thud, but he hardly noticed. His chest rose and fell, breath coming faster, as his gaze found you.

You.

Your figure trembled in the dim light, and in his eyes, you were like a spider lily in full bloom, a beautiful apparition drenched in red. Crimson painted you in streaks, trails of black running down your cheeks as you watched him, wide-eyed and tear-streaked, a delicate petal shaken by the storm.

Kiku’s breathing stopped, his heart halting in his chest as his world narrowed to you, only you. He was so close, close enough to catch the faint shiver in your frame, close enough to see the tears glistening in your eyes. It was intoxicating, a sight more beautiful than anything he had ever witnessed in his endless lifetime.

His fingers twitched, aching to reach for you, to trace those stains of red like brushstrokes on silk. You, trembling before him, so perfect, so untouched by anyone else’s taint—now his. His alone.

A slow, almost reverent exhale escaped his lips. No other nation, no other woman had ever sparked this feeling in him. In centuries of existence, through wars and alliances, through lifetimes of encounters, he had never felt this pull, this ache, until you.

The feeling was ancient, relentless, filling the depths of his soul like the tides. He had wanted many things, fought for many things, but this… this was different. A possession he had claimed, yet one he longed to cherish, to hold, to keep forever close.

He took a step forward, then another, as if entranced, his heartbeat finally catching up to the flood of emotions overwhelming him. You were his. And no one—no force, no man, no fate— would or could take that away.

His fingers brushed against the red phone in his pocket, pulling it out with a deliberate slowness. A dark smile curled on his lips as he held it up, his gaze never leaving you. His eyes traced every inch of your form, as if committing you to memory. His black suit was stained with crimson, the blood that had spilled from the chaos now forgotten, its significance drowned in the quiet tension between you.

The phone’s screen lit up, and with it, the soft click of the camera captured the moment. Another flash. The light illuminated your face, your trembling form, and your wide, fearful eyes. Kiku could almost taste the fear in the air, and he relished it, savoring every second.

You lay there, weak and trembling, your body unwilling to move but your mind screaming for escape. The dress you wore—delicate, lace-trimmed, a soft shade of pale pink—clung to your form, stained now with the same blood that marked his hands. It was a stark contrast to the nightmare unfolding around you.

Kiku’s smile remained serene, calm in a way that made your heart race, as if nothing were wrong. He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, slow, savoring the moment. The room was heavy with silence, your breathing the only sound filling the space. The blood spattered across his face, and yet his expression remained as composed as ever, as if this was some twisted art he was admiring.

"言ってみろ。もう二度と逃げないと言いな,"

Kiku whispered softly, his voice smooth, almost tender, but laced with an authority, a threat, a plea, a promise.

Say it. Say you'll never run away again.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even move. Fear had paralyzed you, and his gaze held you captive, making it impossible to tear your eyes away. Every instinct screamed for you to fight, to flee, but there was no escape. You were trapped in his world.

Kiku’s fingers pressed down on the phone’s screen one last time. Another flash. The light lingered, and in that brief moment, you saw the truth: he had captured you. Not just your image, but something deeper, something irreversible. You could never escape now. You were his.

And in that flash, it was sealed.

Forever.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

Shit, I just saw you had different accounts for different genres and I already requested on your main non smut(??) account😭😭 Okay, okay, I have a new totally original idea. What about.. male pervert yandere enemy x gn or female reader? Like enemies to lovers but one is only in on it because of their masochistic tendencies and they just love being dominated. And please add nsfw of him jerking off, finding her sweaty (sweet) gym tshirt and it being mentioned that he has, I don't know, JERKED OFF TO THEM IN FUCKING CLASS. (The oneshot could be in class👀👀)

- I'm 🙈 anon from your main account, you don't have to complete both of the requests, either one I know would make me cum, but please I'm so desperate for cocky ass bakugo katsuki like bitch guys who are so submissive and vulnerable on the inside IM BEGGING YOU.. omg, now I'm like them, fuck.

This got me pissing my pants ngl- but aaaaa yess. This came at a perfect timing! (long story short i got sum good news from my scholarship stuff in Ateneo) Your audience with me has been approved.

(also I don’t think I received your other request unfortunately uhu)

YANDERE! PERVERTED! RIVAL OC x GN! READER

tw/cw: dddne, yandere themes, male masturbation, semi-public masturbation, yun’s trauma with enrollment procedures.

MINORS/AGELESS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.

University was hell before it even started. Due to complications with your scholarship, you and your parents had to repeatedly go out to get a whole bunch of documents in searing summer heat to ensure you kept the damn thing from falling through.

It was safe to say, you weren’t going to just take all that for granted.

You wanted to be the best student in the history of the institution, no — the whole country. Anything less than perfect would tarnish the effort your family has put into you.

But a certain Ricardo Peralta was making that oh so difficult for you.

Not only was he already a member of the student council and potential president for the following years, he was oh so disgustingly well-rounded and rich. You thought you were a try-hard? Well think again. Ricardo had you beat in many aspects.

But not all of them.

You are a people person by heart. Charismatic, and sociable. You knew how to mingle, how to get a person wrapped around your fingers. Ricardo may have the vantage point with connections now but in the future? It wouldn’t be long before everyone will turn to you instead.

And so began your petty rivalry.

It was subtle at first. Smirking at the one who got a lower score. Congratulating the other for winning second place while having a golden medal dangling from their neck. Scoffing at their rival for having a life outside academics ( pfft imagine having good time management? The two of you can never! )

And then it steadily degenerated into full blown petty fights. Violence at times. Anything aside from murdering each-other was free rein and even then there were days you two took that sort of route. It was mostly you though. For some reason, his parents were quite fond of you and would always let you into their mansion. This gave you plenty of opportunities to drug his ass.

You didn’t know it was because of a deal his parents made with yours to give him access to your room.

Ricardo studied you harder than the academics he worshipped his entire life. He knew you far longer than you did him. You were the reason he strove so much to be perfect. The only reason he wanted to be perfect was for you.

He knew your parents would never think to pay for the outrageous fees the University you (and by extension him) wanted to go to, so he made his parents start a scholarship program for gifted students (Anything to make their son happy). You were already guaranteed to get in from the beginning, and he felt bad for having made you panic from the strings he had to pull so that you’d always have the same classes/schedules.

So he let you win some of the little games you two had. In any case, nothing beats the reward of your smile. And the smug smirk you’d give him as you loomed over the desk, your chest almost resting on his face.

He shook his head, he can save those thought for after he stole another set of used underwear.

He usually came to your locker after P.E. it was when your scent wouldn’t be covered by whatever you sprayed on yourself. Don’t get him wrong, Ricardo was a germaphobe and a half but those cheap perfumes and deodorants you slathered all over yourself so you wouldn’t smell half bad after your exercises couldn’t compare to the scent of your body.

In anycase, today Ricardo got greedy. Impatient. Something his parents were sure to have reprimanded him on. But he couldn’t help it. Could you really blame him? It suddenly started raining out in the field. The way the water made your shirt cling unto your clothes practically made you irresistible.

“Ngh . . . [Y/N]. J-just like that . . . use me . . .” Tears formed at the corner of his eyes as he mumbled in pleasure. If you just walked a little more, perhaps leaned your head around the corner. . . god, he could imagine the disdain on your face. The utter disgust you’d show him.

It didn’t help that you were slandering him just a few feet away.

“That piece of shit, Ricardo. He totally fucking cheated.” You cursed, so unlike your usual polite tone with your fellow batch-mates and the faculty. He hears a resounding thud right after wards.

The movement around his shaft only gets faster. His grip tighter, harsher, as he imagines the way you’d abuse his cock. If he added any more force he’d probably tear himself apart. The thought of disappointing you is the one thing keeping him from harming himself.

His hand only ever stuttered due to the sound of your friend’s voice, ear piercing and grotesque as it is in contrast to yours, “Aray! Nadamay pa talaga yung mukha ko-“

“Shut the fuck up!” You angrily replied, this time slamming the locker behind Ricardo, making him moan stumble forward a little.

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

Streams of white leave the tip of his cock, your threat shoving him off the ledge of pleasure. Your rain and sweat covered shirt now drenched with another type of liquid.

[Notes]:

Aray! Nadamay pa talaga yung mukha ko — Ouch! You really just brought my face into the fray.

[yandereend]

Yandere pretty boy

inspired by Dorian Gray

TW: typical yandere stuff, pretty boy, Dorian likes being mean

Please keep in mind that English is not my native language thank you 💛

P.1/? let me know if you want more

He was utterly beautiful, the kind that takes your breath away and makes you hate yourself. The kind that you envy and would kill to be like. The kind that everyone loves but nobody likes. The kind of man that is obsessed with himself.

Dorian was perfect he would describe himself as nothing less than that.

His blond hair framed the delicate features of his face and made his hazel eyes shine like the sun. His toned body was described by his admirers as breathtaking. And his deep voice sounded like that of an angel or an prince.

He was the most popular guy in school and had a group of fans in almost every class. When he was a junior seniors asked him out and now that he’s one himself he rejected everyone who ever asked him out. Everybody hoped to be his first.

Since even if he seemed like a player his standards were too high to be one. He saved himself up to find the perfect match for himself that would rival his beauty.

But now that his senior year was halfway finished he wondered if the right person would ever came. His father would always encourage him to keep on looking for the one, like his father did with his mother.

And thats when you came into the picture. You didn’t have high expectations for your new school, you just wanted to find friends and get decent grades. And everything went surprisingly well until you got asked out by the most magnificent man you had ever seen. You knew Dorian since you shared a few classes with him where he did nothing but stare at his phone (and you).

So you quickly went from the new student to the partner of the most popular guy in school. Many wondered what was so different about you when Dorian rejected everyone else. But Dorian knew, in his eyes you were as beautiful as him, and after he got to know you better after a few dates he finally realized what people meant with „what’s on the inside matters“.

You were more beautiful than him, of course not on the outside because let’s be honest nobody is. But your character was better than his, you are nice, empathetic, friendly and every other positive trait he could think of. And he wanted to reward you.

So he talked with his father and decided to take you to your new home.

You didn’t expect much when he invited you to his house, especially not the biggest mansion you have ever seen. But it wasn’t the outside that caught you off guard, it was what was inside.

Before every window was a thick curtain so that no sunlight was visible inside.

On every wall where either pictures of Dorian and a beautiful woman or mirrors. They were big and small, and you felt like they were following your every step. Dorians room was no different being filled with mirrors and a giant portrait above his bed. The picture of Dorian Gray.

You like it, my angel? He asked seeing you staring at his portrait, while hugging you from behind.

It was made on my 18th birthday to capture my beauty forever.

You looked in awe at the sheer beauty infront of you. So you were surprised when Dorian pulled you out of his room and you went to a separate one.

It had no windows and the only thing in it was a portrait of a family. You felt hypnotized by the sight. The woman in the picture even outshined Dorians beauty

Thats my mother.

The toddler which you made out as Dorian had a lot more cuteness to him than Dorian had now with his more often stern expressions. Just the man stood out like a sore thumb with his just average appearance.

You look just like her. He said like in trance.

You were so enamored with the picture that you didn’t realize that the servants threw away all your belongings which you brought with you and locked all the doors.

You were captured by the most beautiful man, with the darkest desires.

💛Thanks a lot for reading, feel free to share. I don’t think I ever had more ideas to write in a story 💛

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Power

Yandere!Noble x Gn!Servant!Reader

warnings: power imbalance, death of animals, implied noncon, murder, gore, blood

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

You were convinced you were born unlucky.

Crawling up the social ladder, working day-in day-out for a speck of the luxury the wealthy had—you were still nothing but an insect that could be crushed under a noble’s shoe.

You were slaving your life away as a measly servant—head hung low when someone of higher ranked passed by, always rushing, scurrying to another back-breaking task whether it was scrubbing the mansion's floors or something as emotionally taunting as having to rinse the young master’s soapy bundle of raven locks.

It was exhausting, to say the least. So it wasn't unsurprising that when the demands for you overtook the physical labour and turned into emotional terrorising, you couldn't uphold the quality of your work any longer.

The young master, you had known him all his life, was one of peculiar taste and character, to say the least.

You still vividly remembered when you both were eight, you were awed by the size of your mother's new workplace, duckling behind her, fighting the urge to clutch onto her skirt because of how the nobles regarded you with nothing but indifference or revulsion.

That's when you were first introduced to, or rather you met him in the garden on accident. He had sneaked out between his endless tutoring lessons, climbing down from his room to sit in the grass.

You blinked once then twice at the sight of him, feeling somewhat a flutter of your heart—which wasn't strange considered he was living the life your mother had always wished for you.

However as much as you felt intrigued and eager to approach him, the only other child in this whole mansion, you hesitated, opting to watch him from behind a tree as you discovered the ball of white fluff in his lap. You felt giddy, seeing the kitten rub all against him, as he regarded her with something akin to a gentle smile.

Your eight year old self was almost tempted to reveal itself, step closer and admire the little fangs of the creature from close-up, yet you didn't and you were glad so, because what you saw next was chilling to the bone.

With the same smile on his face, large pools of brown staring down at the fluff in his lap, he slowly crept his hands up and up the kittens body, gently rubbing and scratching behind its ears, before suddenly clasping his fingers around its neck and snapping.

It was an ugly, screeching sound that left the animal as it immediately fell limp, died without much protest.

And perhaps, if you had just being able to stay quiet, keep the startled squeal in, bite down onto your lip and hadn't stepped onto that twig that snatched beneath your foot—perhaps he wouldn't have seen you.

Perhaps he wouldn't have lifted his head, gaze snapping to your direction, focusing on you and smiled.

Sometimes you wonder if he smiled because he knew that the dead kitten in his lap would someday be you.

You shook your head, you never liked to dwell in the past, why start now? Enduring the torturous labour wasn't so hard when you just turned your brain off, really, it was quite simple actually.

If it wasn't for the young master's constant presence, breathing down your neck, that is. As if he was hoarding you, lingering glances causing chills to climb up your spine, and that awful unsettling little lift in the corners of his mouth everytime he saw you.

You couldn't bend over, get on your knees nor simply stretch to dust the headboards without feeling like having to protect your dignity—that’s how horribly bad his staring was, it was unrelenting and uncomfortable.

It had always been like that, it was as if he was taunting you for ever daring to have witnessed him commit such a brutality as a child and then many more—you found dead birds on the foot of your bed, their bellies ripped open to allow everything that should be kept inside to spill, mice and rats smashed into a puddle of blood on the floor of your room, yet the most vile trinket still remainded the mangled-up body of a dog placed onto you.

You knew who it was—and the culprit knew too, but no one else did, and even if the head of the house, the young Master's Grandpa, found out, he would rather act upon the same violence to keep the family secret sealed—that the handsome young man graced with equal intelligence as looks was sick in the head.

Your ability to endure it was strong, you were resilient, you were given a roof over your head and a job for life and sometimes once in a blue moon you were granted as something sacred as a hairpin albeit not out of jade, but it did it, the bribery worked and you kept scrubbing out all mistakes the young master did.

That was until that fateful day.

You were used to all his mistakes by then, but this was probably his most grave one out of them all.

“Young Master? Young Master!” you cried out, raw unfiltered fear in your shriek screams, trying to wriggle out of his grasp—moments prior you had just been scrubbing his back, working in the rich soaps and oils into his skin and now you laid on his bed pinned beneath his naked figure.

“What is it? What is it that I can't have? You're so far away—I can't reach you.” his voice was unusually erratic, that kind of tone that declared of the impending meltdown that followed.

“Young Master—” you squeaked trying to put on your bravest front, swallowing your fear, you just had to stay calm, just stay calm—

“Why can't you be mine?” he slapped you right across the face, causing tears to prick your eyes. “You're so shameless! You flirt with that foreign guard—you bat your eyelashes at him, but you never even thanked me for the gifts I left you! How could you be so cruel?” he screamed in your face, his own flush with anger, panting and heaving rapidly, his chest pressed into yours, with the thing between his thighs pressing into your abdomen stiffly.

“Please young Master—” he didn't allow any more protests, wrapping his hands around your neck, planning to wring it like he did to that innocent kitten, but you didn't let him.

Gasping for air, you struggled against his strength, hands kicking and punching, clawing at whatever you could as the panic put you in a frenzy. It was as if your brain split from your body and gained its own heartbeat that sent currents through your entire being, down to your fingertips.

It wasn't until you clutched onto one of his candle holders and dragged it over his head, did he release you with a hiss, stumbling back, touching the dent on his head only to feel blood while you rolled off already scrambling to run away.

However the sight of blood only turned him more into revealing his true face, an unruly monster.

So he lunged.

Tackling you to the ground like a wild beast, keeping your hands pinned above your head, having learned that much from the bleeding spot on his head, this time he didn't let go until he was satisfied that evening.

You weren't the same after that—and who would blame you for that?

The very next day you tried to quit and got refused. It didn't work, they didn't let you, because no one wanted to gain the wrath of the young Master and his elders especially cared for him, which is why they allowed his childish fixation with you.

That's why you escaped, you couldn't continue this, you refused to be a toy for some noble that had plagued you for most of your life already.

Your escape was the trigger.

Dragged back by your hair, fingers trying to hold onto the wet earth, you were promptly shoved inside the manor, thrown in front of the young Master standing amidst a bloodbath so gruesome you wished you he taken your eyes with the countless lives.

“There you are!” he exclaimed pulling you into a bone crushing hug, as his breathing finally fell into an even rhythm, relaxing with you in his arms. “Why—why—” you were choking out but he just hushed you, making you stare long and heavy at all the familiar faces—the servants that were your friends, the guards ordered to keep you inside the manor and lastly a white kitten that resembled the first one of his many kills, like some sort of anniversary present for you.

“Just don't go—this is all your fault—don’t leave me again.” he didn't allow you to breathe, crimson soaked fingers digging into your back almost bruising.

You remained an insect, now caged in gold, a toy to be played with, used and abused that could only dream about fleeing and regaining some resemblance of normality.

Because born unlucky stays unlucky.

[intynidad]

Yandere otome au

TW: yandere tendencies, kinda suggestive in some part, talking about death and violence (not towards reader)

(All characters are 18+)

Long post

Part 2!

You wouldn't call yourself an otaku, although you enjoyed games and anime, you weren't like those hardcore fans... that was until you got your hands on a copy of "By Love for Love: The Game."

This game was just your cup of tea, and you might or might not have become obsessed with it.

The game consisted of the heroine trying to win the heart of one or more suitors before her rival. It sounds cliché, but the twist of the game was that the heroine had to manipulate the chosen love interest to get rid of her rival, so they could take revenge or something like that. You honestly stopped paying attention to the plot halfway through because you were more interested in talking to the cute boys and girls!.

You were playing when you fell asleep at your computer.

You woke up to the feeling of soft silk and the scent of vanilla, and wait, what?

Your sheets were definitely not made out of silk, and your room smelled like cup noodles, not vanilla!

You woke up in a flash and looked at yourself in the mirror.

Y/N L/N, heir of the L/N company, and the rival of the heroine.

Oh for fuck’s sake…

Okay, okay, don't panic. Yes, apparently, you have been transported into the game "By Love For Love," but not as the heroine, but as the rival!

That was very bad news. You tried to remember some of the plot as to why the heroine wants you dead, but your mind just wouldn't work right now.

You knew you were the competition for the heroine, and you would surely lose if you chose to actually fight against her for the love of any of the love interests. So, you came up with a plan.

You would try to maintain friendly terms with all the love interests and choose a route that the heroine wouldn't take. This way, the tension between the two of you wouldn't spark.

But nothing could be as easy as it seemed, right?

The childhood friend

He was your favorite among all the potential love interests. He was sweet, caring, and a true sweetheart to be around.

He was absolutely delighted when you showed an interest in spending more time with him and started paying attention when he talked about his day.(what are this feeling?)

Initially, he stuck around because your parents were friends, and you had known each other since you were both in diapers. But now, it seemed like there was something more between you.

Your sudden change in attitude and the way you became so sweet and caring towards him caught him off guard. He couldn't fathom how he hadn't noticed your true nature until now.

He firmly believed that your destinies were intertwined, as if they were star-crossed. In his eyes, you belonged together because you had been together since childhood.

("Hey, we're going to stick together until the end, right?")

("You wouldn't leave me, would you?")

The older family friend:

He was a business partner of one of your parents, despite being just a couple of years older than you.

The older family friend that you were terrified off because beneath his charming facade lay an extremely sadistic nature.

You vividly remember how he ruthlessly disposed of the rival when the heroine chose his route, which made you extremely wary of him.

The older family friend that failed to comprehend that whenever you two met, you dared not make eye contact with him. Your fear and unease were palpable.

the older family friend that began to see you as a small, cute bunny in need of protection. "Aren't you the cutest!" he would remark, as if finding amusement in your vulnerability.

The Older family friend that almost broke the hand of one of his coworkers that insinuated that he would ask you on a date

The older family friend that starts to fantasize about taking you to his place and adorning your body in strong silk ribbons so you wouldn’t be able to escape his love (even tho something thinking of you pleading for help was something that made him all giddy)

The older family friend that slowly sharpens his pencil and fantasies about stabbing it on the eye of any bastard that dares to look at you

The heroine

The heroine, initially, despised you with a fiery intensity.

She couldn't fathom how you had the audacity to show up with your attractive appearance, seemingly disrupting her path to finding the love(s) of her life.

Every time you smiled at her with genuine kindness and inquired about her day, it only fueled her anger further.

Her resentment grew to the point where she started to keep an eye on you, not out of genuine interest but rather hoping to uncover some sort of compromising information that she could potentially use against you.

After some time -totally not stalking you- she ended up craving even more about you

She just needed to know everything about you!

The heroine that starts to use her influence and pretty face to spread rumors of HER love interest,hoping that it might reach your ears and you back down and go running into HER arms

The loner

They were honestly the one you knew the least about. Despite encountering this love interest in the game, you found yourself drawn more to the other characters and their storylines. Their appearance, personality, or initial interactions simply didn't capture your attention or ignite that spark of curiosity within you.

Didnt you know he was a huge masochist and the fact that you ignore him just make you want you more!

Oh how they wish you could look at them with disdain and call them a freak and told them how you despise them and-gosh they are drooling aren’t they

They are just a Pathetic little person that is begging for you to step on their throat and push until it cracks

[hana-no-seiiki]

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIVE STAGES OF YANDERE ࿐: HERO

“𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃.”

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere/tsundere! modern hero x villain! reader

✧ status: unedited

✧ tw/cw: yandere themes, violence, morally dubious reader, horny hero, tsundere hero.

✧ a/n: both character’s genders are up to your imagination. also i’m making this my permanent theme now for general yans fics (consistency/recognizabilty’s sake)

[series masterlist]

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE ONE. ✧ DENIAL

“You’re getting a bit sloppy aren’t you, lil hero?”

“Shut up, wretched being! C-Come back here!”

You and Yandere! Hero have been nemeses for what felt like lifetimes. Ever since you became a sidekick as a kid, up until the present time as adults.

You saw them as a sibling. You’d fight once in a while but neither truly hurt each other. In fact, you never once attempted to kill them, and they in turn never attempted to put you behind bars. The cycle always repeated.

You were relatively close in terms of power. More times than not, things would end up being a tie where the two of you would be too tired to continue. But recently your cutie patootie hero has been getting sluggish. Their attacks lacked any sort of vigour, and their reflexes dulled.

You would offer to talk and assist them, but another one of your hidden rules in this relationship of sorts was that you two would never interfere with life outside of crime and fighting thereof.

Unbeknownst to you, Yandere! Hero fought another villain (cheater!) whose powers were related to nightmares and fears.

Their greatest nightmare . . . was losing their status as a hero — losing you.

You have been such a huge part of their formative years and beyond that the thought of even retiring and losing contact scared the hell out of them. The idea of never being able to banter as you sparred, the concept of losing sight of that smug grin of yours on the times you won, and the very notion of you being dealt with by someone else — their chest would tighten to the point of being unable to breathe.

But they always shook their head, drowned themself in tasks as to avoid the anxiety that threatened their focus. After all, you were a villain. A monstrous creature that have hurt and killed people. The only reason they haven’t taken you down yet was because they were instructed by their predecessor not to.

Yeah, the fear of losing you? Probably just an extension of their desperate and zealous view on their position as a hero

They prayed it was.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE TWO. ✧ ANGER

“I told you that they were mine to take care of! You gave me this duty!”

“You and I both know you’ve been losing your fights more often than not. Look at how many people they’ve started to hurt again! I can’t leave you with a responsibility you, can’t, handle.”

Yandere! Hero couldn’t believe their ears. Everything they feared was starting to come true and it was only getting worse.

They started disobeying their mentor/predecessor’s commands. Commands that they used to referees — worship even. They knew they were making things go from trash to absolute shit, but they couldn’t care less anymore.

So what if you hurt those people? From what they understood, those people were a bunch of assholes at best; Crime-lords, all types of traffickers, and violent thugs. In fact, the very reason you aren’t in cuffs was because you often took justice into your own hands. You were just quite cruel and brutal when it came down to it.

One of their more unforgettable moments of you together was the time you saved them from another villain. You in your blood-soaked glory as you grinned, an attempt to comfort them while they neck-deep in voices that screamed failure. They were barely hurt while you could barely stand, yet you were the one hushing them as you rubbed circles on the small of their back. Shared whispers they’ll die before they talk of it to anyone else.

Yandere! Hero keeps meeting you again and again. Doing duties they were already forbidden from completing and abusing the favor of being a sidekick for so long.

Things get from worse to oblivion when they get news of being replaced.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE THREE. ✧ BARGAINING

“At least let me accompany them on patrols! What if they get hurt?”

“You worked alone just fine.”

“That is an entirely different story!”

This newbie didn’t know you for several years. This newbie never experienced fighting you much less alongside you. You would eat them alive.

Granted, it would be the newbie’s fault for being so incompetent but they digress.

While on patrol with the newbie, they do their best to sabotage them in every way they can. Giving them the wrong intel, alerting the enemy of their arrival if they do figure out the proper location, and above all making sure you two never cross paths at all. A peer of theirs hurting you would kill them.

Of course, with their frantic and frankly stressed out mind, it wasn’t long before you and the newbie encounter one another.

And, the two of you got along quite well. Your moves like a beautifully choreographed routine in the battlefield. More importantly, it looked as if you were having so much fun.

They really couldn’t help themself

When they stepped in and interrupted the two of you

A glaze in their eyes as they walked ever so slowly to the newbie and strangled them.

That horrified look on your face. They didn’t know if they liked it or hated it.

But what they did know is that from that moment forward, they can never call themself a proper hero again. Their mentor’s words echoed in their head.

“You are staying at the base and that is final. If I see you again out on the field, I’ll be the one to put you behind bars.”

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FOUR. ✧ DEPRESSION

“Breaking News: A new vigilante has been spotted! Has our favorite hero been replaced? Well our sources say yes!”

“And would you look at that, they’re even worse at hiding their interest in their nemesis! Is this the love story we’ve all been waiting for?”

Yandere! Hero doesn’t remember when they last saw the sun anymore.

Their days were spent deep within the basement of the hero HQ, scrolling through any information they could find of you.

Their head constantly replaying the memories you shared, written in a systematic obsessed manner on a journal. From the very second you two first met, to the time you looked at them with eyes full of horror.

Your image had been scribbled, drawn, painted, carved, broken down, and built back up again hundreds of times.

But it just wasn’t enough.

Yandere! Hero used to wish that there would be a day you two would stop fighting. Whether it’d be them finally ending your streak of misdeeds, or you quitting. Anything would have satisfied them.

But now, now they just couldn’t see the appeal of it all.

All they could see was eternity with you.

And they’ll have that one way or another.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FIVE. ✧ ACCEPTANCE

“I never could have imagine this to happen.”

“Really? You must have thought that I’d put you behind bars one day.”

“My fantasies were always, well — the other way around.”

You wore a calm expression.

Yandere! Hero, ever the fragile ego they had, would have seen this as an insult. A slight to their prowess.

But right now they couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Of course you wouldn’t be mad if they did this. You were you after all. You’ve been through much worse than being tied up and forced into a small cage more fit for an animal than a human.

And you being you, knew the many other ways to unnerve your poor rival.

“Wouldn’t it be ironic? If your replacement were to save me that is.”

You fought the anticipation from appearing on your face as you continued.

“Then they would truly become my hero.”

But your hopes were dashed, your giddiness dimmed as they simply replied.

“Then I’ll just kill them, and the next replacement after that. Until I go through every single capable human this planet has to offer and then more.”

Perhaps there was a reason why Heroes wore a mask aside from hiding their identities. That would certainly explain the chill you felt crawl up your limbs and spine as they lovingly stared at you.

“Because now I know that I love you. I’ll save you from everyone else but myself.”

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023