#yandere upppermoon

[yandere-kokeshi]

— How dare you?

Pairing: Yandere Douma x GN reader

Summary: While Douma is busy with other things, he has assigned a follower of his to watch you. But, what if they dislike you?

Warnings: Yandere behavior, details of decapitation, and a dead body, abuse towards reader (not by douma), threats.

The room was uncomfortable. It was quiet, odd… different from when Douma was here. 

You were used to his loud and teasing voice, physical touches that were too tight, and his playful tricks that always warmed your heart. But this quietness was…. A difference. 

“Nyaa~!! You’re so cute!” Douma expressed while pinching your cheeks — his grin showing off his very pointy teeth and reflecting eyes. You hummed in response, gently pushing off his pointy claws before rubbing your cheeks. “That hurts, Douma.” 

“I couldn’t help myself! You’re just so adorable,” He stated in excitement, his black crown tilting to the side with his head as his hand rested on his cheek, looking at you with his rainbow eyes. 

Your body and face were hurting, bruises forming from how mad and irritated the so-called ‘follower’ had hit you. When leaving, Douma had summoned a follower — a trusted woman who promised to adore and watch over you as he went out. 

But as the hours went on, the more irritated she was; looking at you with such hatred and jealousy. While you did try to make conversation with her, she never replied or did blunt ones; an occasional hum or a ‘yeah’ thrown your way. 

While she was quiet and ignoring you, she had left a few minutes ago to retrieve food for you. Which you were grateful for as you were hungry. 

It felt like hours — days even since Douma was gone. You wanted him here, gently caressing your skin as he kissed your forehead.

His sweet lotus and warm sun to an amber fragrance that always helps you calm down. 

“Your hair is so dirty, Douma-san,” You say loudly while helping with Douma’s hair, brushing the knotted blood and leaves stuck in his hair.

He hummed in response, leaning more into you as he let your mind run — either letting you know he listened to what you said, or simply agreeing with your statement. Who knows?

But, the minute he saw you looking at him in the vanity mirror, watching you smile to yourself while brushing his hair. It made him feel somewhat special — a feeling he’s never felt before. 

“You’re so mean!! Pet me, darling!” He states with a smile, his rainbowed eyes shining in the orange lamps nearby as he pulls your waist close to his face, which makes his teeth nip at your torso. 

A tear ran down your face, which you quickly wiped. Wondering how long you’ve been locked in this small, crowded room. You do miss him, don’t you? 

Suddenly, the shoji slammed open, causing you to flinch and let out a pity yelp. 

“Why are you still on the ground? You’re haori will get dirty.” The follower snickered.

She walked in and placed a food tray onto the small-lowered table, consisting of miso soup, soba, some side tangerines, and a rice bowl, along with a steaming cup of green tea. 

It looked somewhat appetizing.

“Eat up, this is all yur’ getting.” She stated while turning her back towards you, walking to the mirror to fix up her hair.

But as you continue staring at her, she makes direct eye contact with you in the mirror. 

Gulping, you looked away and averted your gaze to the floor, unsure of what to do. This is very awkward.

You heard a sigh coming from her, “Really? What a waste of food. Y’know, people would die for that kind of stuff.” She scoffed, almost unbelievable at you ‘wasting the food’. 

It’s not that you weren’t hungry — you very were. It’s just… you were intimidated by the woman.  

Hesitantly looking at the dish, you reached over and grabbed the tea, smelling the cup.

It was steaming — you felt it on your nose and cheeks, grazing against it. You were hesitant to drink it, it smelled off. 

“Stop worrying so much, it’s like I didn’t poison it!” The woman stated, pushing the drink more down your throat, forcing it to pass your sealed lips and into your mouth.

It burned. 

You couldn’t breathe. The taste violated your throat, burning and crawling at the insides as it went down.

It sunk into your tongue, choking and corking it.

You spat out the hot water, ruining your outfit and staining the floors. 

“Hey! Watch it!” She screamed.

“What is wrong with you!” She yelled at you again, getting up while brushing her dress that was drenched in hot tea. “You ruined it! Look at it, you imbecile!” 

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, coughing at the burning taste as your eyes water. “I– am, let me help!” Grabbing tissues nearby, you reached over to start dabbing at her clothing before she pushed you away.

Hitting the ground, you let out a small ‘ouch’ before yelling out in pain as the woman kneeled and grabbed your hair, yanking it back with a fist full of your hair. 

Struggling against her grip, you tried to scream but she slammed a hand over your mouth. 

“I’ll kill you right here and now!” She screamed at you, looking at you with her face turning cherry-red. “I don’t see why Douma-san likes you! You’re worthless, idiotic, and a piece of garbage that deserves to be burnt!”  

You stopped struggling. Tears soon form in your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You grasped her hands as they tightened against your scalp. 

“Please let me go, it was an accident!” You requested against her rough palms.

At this point, she went crazy. Her other fist balled up, making its way toward you with such speed that you didn’t even feel the wind graze against your skin. You expected — almost felt the punch. 

But, the hit never reached you. Instead, you were greeted with her entire arm being held in a tight grip by Douma’s hold. The sounds of the woman's failed gasps could be seen and heard.

“How dare you.”

Douma’s rage was indefinite. His eyes highlighted sharply in the lamps, and his veins and stoic face showed so violently as his fan was raised to his face, closing with the golden marks shining. 

“How could you say something so cruel, Kimiko?” He asked, his head tilting. His eyes were completely emotionless — a different look from how he looked at you. 

Her face dropped. A look of fear rose instead of anger. Immediately, she started stuttering, words failing to come out in a complete sense. “Do–uma! I’m so sorry, p-please forgive me!” 

But, her words were drowned out by the sounds of her bone cracking, her agonized screams shot through the room as she tried pulling away from his tight hold. But to no avail, he kept holding and tightening his shift to make sure she hurt. 

He continued crushing her arm, his face staying the same as she continued screaming.

Screams that were begging, pleading — horrifying sounds that were telling him to ‘let go!’ and ‘I won’t do it again!’. 

Finally, after what felt like an entirety, he let go. But continued staring at her with his emotionless eyes.

Stumbling upward onto your knees, you reached over and pulled his shirt; slightly catching his attention as you saw his hand twitch.

However, he ignored you.

Within a second, he raised his hand with his fan and blood splattered throughout the walls and floor. Her head was separated from her body, disappearing and exploding in confetti amongst the walls in deep red.

It happened so fast that you didn’t get the time to blink.  

“What else did she do?” He asked bluntly.

Turning towards you with an angered face — his veins popping out, his engraved number growing in size, and fangs barring with a slight hiss.

Although they immediately shrinked the minute he sees your stressed-out face. 

He reached down for you, in which you were swept into his big arms and carried to the bed. As Douma plopped you down onto the soft mattress, tears started forming in your eyes again, falling from the event that took place.  

The tears were wiped away with sharp fingers. As you reopen your eyes, you connect with bright ones.

Sitting down in front of you, Douma gently grabbed your face, turning it to the side to examine the forming bruise. 

“What else did she do while I was gone, hm?” He asked, but sounded more like a demand by the tone of his voice.

His playful tone came back, watching you as you reflexively pull at the damped haori.

He looked at the haori and saw what you were doing, which he grabbed it, and peeled it off from you.

“I’ll call the maids to clean this–” He smiled and hinted at the scene behind him, “–and get you some new clothes.” 

Suddenly, he grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips. He licked your finger, and you winced at the slight sting; not noticing you had gotten a cut. 

He giggled, laughing at your reaction. His hands slid behind your back and pushed you closer to his chest, making you lean on him. Taking a deep breath, you were assured of safety with his presence.

Feeling his slow heartbeat, it was calming — something you needed.

His chin lays on top of your head, his grip tightening as his other hand traveled to the back of your head, slightly massaging your sore spot.

“Nobody touches you without my permission.” 

—

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