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fangdokja · 2 months ago

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🔞He says it’s love, but the scars on your skin tell a different story.

❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped in his obsession, your brother’s love is a cage—burning, possessive, and unyielding. Every kiss is a claim, every touch a warning. You’re his, and he’ll make sure the world knows it.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Older Brother x Fem. Reader

♡ Novelette. Sins of the Silent Heart - Part 2

♡ Word Count. 8,010

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, incest, non-con, rape, overstimulation, isolation, kidnapping, confinement, forced marking, dacryphilia, bondage, sexual punishments, BDSM, sadism, unhealthy power dynamics, loss of virginity, toxic relationship, spanking, emotional and psychological manipulation, social isolation, physical assault and abuse, sexual violence, knife play, blood play, permanent injury, choking / breath play

The room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn tightly to keep the prying eyes of the world at bay. You struggle against his ironclad grasp, but he's too strong.

He shoves you onto the bed with a force that steals your breath, pinning your arms above your head with one hand while the other clamps over your mouth, muffling your screams. "Shh," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

"You're only making this harder for yourself. You need to understand." His eyes bore into yours, searching for something—fear, submission, perhaps even love. But all you feel is a cold dread unfurling in your stomach, a horror that threatens to consume you whole.

Your brother's grip on your face tightens, his thumb digging into your cheek as he leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

"You're mine," he repeats, the words a chant that seems to fuel his rage. His other hand begins to roam, skimming over your body in a way that makes you feel violated and disgusting. You try to kick, to fight, but he's everywhere, his weight pressing down on you like a mountain.

"You think you can just go out there and give yourself to someone else?" he snarls, his eyes wild with jealousy. "You're too good for them. You're too good for anyone but me."

His hand slides down to your thigh, squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise. Panic sets in as you realize the full extent of his intentions, your eyes widening in horror.

You manage to break free from his hand over your mouth, gasping for air. "No, please, stop," you plead, your voice shaky with fear and desperation.

"I'm your sister! Please don't do this!" But your words only seem to fuel his rage further, his grip on your wrists tightening until you think your bones might snap.

"Your mouth will be the only thing that's used for speaking my language tonight," he sneers, his free hand ripping at the fabric of your shirt, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. The sound of buttons popping off and fabric tearing fills the room, echoing your own silent screams.

You feel a warm wetness between your legs, not from desire but from fear and the humiliation of knowing what's about to happen. "You're going to learn your place," he murmurs, his voice low and menacing as he straddles you, his weight pinning you to the bed.

You writhe beneath him, trying to find an inch of space, any way to escape, but his body is like a vice, trapping you in this twisted nightmare. He reaches for your pants, his hand fumbling with the button before he yanks them down with a rough jerk, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

"You're going to love me," he says, his voice a twisted mix of anger and lust.

"You're going to forget all about those other boys. They're nothing compared to me." His words are a knife to your heart, each syllable twisting the blade deeper.

Tears stream down your face as he pulls his own pants down, his erection straining against his boxers. You can feel his breath on your neck, his chest pressing against yours, his arousal against your thigh.

The room feels like it's spinning, the walls closing in around you. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of the monster above you, but his touch is everywhere, invasive and repulsive.

He pulls your panties to the side with a cruel efficiency, and you can't help but sob out loud. "Please, brother, no," you whimper, but your words fall on deaf ears.

He leans in, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispers, "You're going to scream my name. You're going to beg for more."

His hand moves to the back of your neck, pushing your head down into the pillow, the fabric smothering your cries. You feel his hand move away from your face and grip the base of his cock, guiding it towards your entrance.

The feeling of his bare skin against yours is a violation so profound, it feels like your soul is being torn apart. The tip of his cock nudges against your folds, and you tense up, trying to resist, but your body is too overwhelmed with fear to do much more than shiver.

With a grunt of effort, he pushes inside you, the pain tearing through you like a bolt of lightning.

You scream into the pillow, your nails digging into the mattress as he starts to thrust, each movement a brutal reminder of his dominance.

You can feel the fabric of your ruined panties wedged between your thighs, a sadistic reminder of your innocence lost. His rhythm is punishing, his hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that sends shockwaves through your body. You try to hold back the tears, to hide your pain, but they come anyway, soaking the pillow beneath your face.

He drives through your hymen without mercy, the fabric of your innocence ripping away as he claims you as his own. The pain is unlike anything you've ever felt before—sharp, searing, and unrelenting.

Your eyes fly open, and you scream into the pillow, your body arching off the bed as he buries himself deep within you. The sensation is a mix of agony and unwanted fullness, a violation that sets every nerve ending on fire.

His grip on your neck tightens, and you can feel his cock pulsing inside you, thick and demanding. "Look at me," he commands, his voice a harsh whisper.

You force your eyes to meet his, and what you see there is a twisted mix of satisfaction and rage. He watches you, his pupils dilated with lust, as he continues to fuck you without care for your pain.

"Say it," he hisses, his hips grinding against yours in a punishing rhythm. "Say you're mine."

Your throat is raw from screaming, but you manage to croak out the words he wants to hear. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice a broken echo of the defiance that once burned within you.

The lie tastes bitter on your tongue, but you know it's what he needs to hear.

His eyes flash with triumph, and he releases your neck, allowing you to gulp in a desperate breath. "That's my girl," he says, his voice a sick parody of affection as he starts to move faster.

You feel his hand snake around your throat again, squeezing gently before sliding up to cradle your face. "I'll always take care of you," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as he pushes deeper into you, each stroke a declaration of his ownership.

You whimper, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to focus on anything but the pain. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, punctuated by your muffled cries and his grunts of pleasure.

He's so deep inside you that it feels like he's touching your very soul, and you can't help but wonder if there's any part of you that will ever be yours again. You want to fight, to scream, to push him away, but your body feels like it's made of lead, heavy and unresponsive to your will.

He leans down, his mouth crushing against yours in a kiss that's more claim than affection. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, and you taste the salt of your own tears.

You try to pull away, to bite him, to do anything that will make him stop, but he only grinds against you harder, his hand on the back of your head keeping you in place. "You're mine," he says against your lips, the words a dark benediction that sends a shiver of revulsion through your body.

Your eyes flutter open, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the dresser. Your face is a mascara-stained mess, your hair a tangled halo around your head, and your body is a canvas of bruises already beginning to blossom.

The sight only seems to excite him more, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he watches your reflection, his eyes glinting with a malicious pleasure. You feel yourself start to detach, floating above the scene like a ghost, watching as your body is used and discarded by the person who's supposed to love you the most.

"Please," you manage to gasp out, the word a pathetic plea that hangs in the air, unheeded. "It hurts."

But he either doesn't hear you or doesn't care, his hips pumping faster, his breathing growing ragged.

The pain becomes a living entity, a monster that consumes you from the inside out, reducing you to a trembling wreck beneath him.

He shifts his weight, his hand moving from your face to your hip, his fingers digging in as he pulls you closer to him. "You're so damn tight," he groans, his voice thick with lust. "You were made for me."

His thumb slides between your thighs, finding the bundle of nerves that had once brought you pleasure, and you feel a spark of hope—maybe if you can just make him finish, it will all be over.

But his touch is rough, almost punishing, and any hint of pleasure is drowned out by the agony of his invasion.

You bite your lip to keep from screaming as he continues to thrust, his movements becoming more frenzied with each passing moment. "You're going to come for me," he says, his voice a mix of demand and question.

"You're going to come and show me how much you want this." You feel his thumb circle your clit, pressing down hard as he continues to fuck you, his other hand squeezing your hip so tightly that it feels like he's trying to leave a permanent imprint of his fingers on your skin.

The pain and the pleasure meld together into something twisted and unrecognizable, and you can't help but whimper as your body starts to respond despite your mind's screaming protests.

His eyes never leave yours, watching your every reaction, feeding off your fear and pain like it's his lifeblood. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "Show me how much you need me."

And you do—your body betrays you, arching up to meet his touch, your walls tightening around his cock as the beginnings of an orgasm build against your will.

You want to hate him for reducing you to this, for making you feel like a whore, but the pleasure is too intense to fight.

With a final, brutal thrust, he releases your hip, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand still working you into a frenzy. "You're mine," he says again, his voice a hoarse growl.

"Say it. Scream it." And as if on cue, your body shatters, your orgasm ripping through you like a tempest, stealing your voice along with your dignity. The only sound that escapes you is a strangled cry, a sound that's half-pain, half-pleasure.

His eyes widen with triumph as he feels your body clench around him, his grip on your wrists tightening as he starts to come, filling you with his seed. The feeling of his release only adds to the horror, his hot cum a declaration of his claim on your body.

You lay there, trembling and sobbing, as he collapses on top of you, his chest heaving with exertion. For a moment, the room is silent except for your ragged breaths and his own, his weight a suffocating presence that makes it difficult to draw in air.

As the fog of pleasure fades, the reality of what's happened crashes down on you like a tidal wave of despair. You feel soiled, used, and utterly broken. Your eyes fill with fresh tears, and you struggle to find the strength to push him off.

But he's still inside you, his cock now limp but still a violation of the most intimate kind. "Don't," he says, his voice suddenly gentle as he rolls off you and pulls you into his arms.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore." His touch is tender, almost loving, but it's tainted by the knowledge of what he's just done.

You can't bring yourself to look at him, your face buried in his chest, your body shaking with sobs. He strokes your hair, whispering sweet nothings that only serve to make you feel more disgusted.

"It's okay," he says, his voice soothing despite the horror of his actions. "You're safe with me. No one will ever hurt you again."

His words are a mockery of comfort, a twisted parody of the brotherly love you once knew.

You want to scream, to push him away, but all you can do is cry.

He gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he says, his voice a soft command.

"I'm not going to let anyone else have you. You're mine. You always have been." His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign of understanding, some spark of the love he believed you owed him.

But all you see is the monster he's become, the predator that's stolen your childhood trust in him.

"I know you didn't mean to," he continues, his tone earnest. "But you can't leave me. You can't love anyone else. Do you understand?"

You nod, the tears still streaming down your face, the taste of defeat coating your mouth like bile. "Y-yes," you manage to whisper, the words barely audible. "I understand."

It's not what he wants to hear, not the declaration of love he craves, but it's all you can give.

For now.

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The weekend stretches before you, a prison of his twisted love and dominance. Each moment is a silent scream of agony and degradation, as your brother takes you again and again.

The bedroom, the kitchen table, the living room couch—every corner of your shared home becomes a battleground for his obsession.

He fucks you in every position imaginable, his hunger insatiable, his need to claim you complete.

You feel like a ragdoll in his hands, used and abused at his whim, your body a canvas for his depravity.

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On the first night, he ties your wrists to the bedposts with the usual belt he uses to punish you, spreading your legs wide as he looms above you. "You're going to take it all," he says, his voice a dark promise.

"Every inch of me, until you're screaming my name." He pushes into you, his cock thick and unforgiving, and you bite back a whimper, your eyes squeezed shut.

He's gentle at first, almost loving, but as the night wears on, his strokes become more forceful, his grip on your hips tightening.

You're too tired to fight, too broken to resist. When he finally releases you from your bonds, you collapse onto the bed, your limbs trembling from the exertion.

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The next day, he takes you into the shower, the water a scalding caress against your bruised skin. He soaps you up with a tenderness that feels like a slap in the face after what he's done. "Look at me," he commands, his voice a low growl.

You do, unable to meet his gaze, focusing instead on the water cascading down your breasts. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Say you love me."

The words stick in your throat, a lie that feels like acid. But you whisper them anyway, because it's what he needs to hear, because you're too scared not to.

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In the kitchen, he bends you over the counter, your hands gripping the edge to keep from collapsing. You can hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled, the jingle of his belt loops echoing through the room. "You're going to learn to crave this," he says, his voice a harsh promise.

You feel the head of his cock against you, and your body tenses, bracing for the pain. "You're going to want me more than anyone else."

His hands are everywhere, pushing into your hips, squeezing your breasts, his thumb circling your clit.

You hate the way your body responds, the way your pussy clenches around him, begging for more even as you silently pray for it to end.

He enters you from behind, his hands on your hips as he pulls you back onto him. You grit your teeth against the pain, your knuckles turning white as you hold onto the counter for dear life.

He's deep inside you, his cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars, and you can't help but moan despite the fear choking you.

"That's it," he says, his voice thick with pleasure. "You like it, don't you?" You bite your tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, your eyes squeezed shut as you focus on the kitchen tiles beneath your feet.

But the orgasm builds, unwanted and unstoppable, stealing your voice as it rips through you, leaving you trembling and sobbing.

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Later, in the living room, you're forced to straddle him on the couch, his cock buried inside you as he watches TV. His hands are on your hips, guiding your movements, his eyes flicking from the screen to your face, watching you with a perverse fascination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a stark contrast to the horror of his actions.

You want to scream, to tell him to stop, but the words won't come. Instead, you stare blankly at the TV, trying to lose yourself in the flickering images, trying to forget the reality of your situation.

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On the second night, he takes you to the floor in the hallway, pushing you onto your knees. "You're going to suck me off," he says, his voice cold and demanding. "And you're going to swallow every drop."

You hesitate, your throat tight with fear, but his hand wraps around the back of your head, pushing you closer to his erection.

"Do it," he growls, and you have no choice but to comply, your mouth opening to take him in.

You can taste the salt and the bitterness of his lust, and you want to gag, but you force yourself to swallow, to keep going until he's satisfied.

When he finally comes, you feel his hot cum spurt down your throat, and you have to fight not to throw up.

He pulls out, his hand releasing your head as he watches you, his eyes filled with a perverse satisfaction. "Good girl," he says, his voice a taunting whisper.

You crawl away from him, your body trembling, your dignity shattered beyond repair. You can't believe this is your life now, that you're nothing more than a toy for his sick games.

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On the final day of the weekend, you're lying on the floor of his room, your body bruised and sore from his relentless attention. He's sitting on the bed, watching you with a strange mix of love and possession.

"Look at you," he says, his voice almost gentle. "So beautiful, even when you're broken."

You force yourself to meet his gaze, searching for any hint of remorse, any shred of the brother you once knew. But all you find is a monster, a creature consumed by his own desires.

He stands up, walking over to you with a predatory grace that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's time to go back to your room," he says, his voice a command.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, as he helps you to your feet. The room spins around you, the pain making it difficult to stand.

"You're mine," he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. "Always remember that." He gives you a final, bruising kiss before releasing you, his eyes never leaving your face.

You stumble back to your room, feeling his gaze on your back like a physical weight.

The door closes behind you, the soft click echoing in your ears. You collapse onto the bed, your body a mass of pain and despair.

You can't believe what's happening, can't believe that the person you trusted the most has become your worst nightmare.

But even as you cry into your pillow, a part of you knows that this is only the beginning.

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Days turn into weeks, and the abuse continues. You try to find ways to resist, to fight back, but his control over you is absolute.

He's always watching, always waiting for the slightest sign of disobedience. You start to feel like you're going mad, trapped in a cycle of fear and pain that never ends.

But you keep the secret, hiding your bruises beneath layers of clothing, smiling when you know he's watching.

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One evening, as you're serving dinner, a knock at the door pierces the tension that's become a constant in your home.

It's a friend from school, someone who's been worried about you since you stopped hanging out. You can see the concern in his eyes as he asks about your well-being.

Your brother's grip on your wrist tightens, a silent warning not to say a word. "She's just been busy," he says, his voice too cheerful. "Aren't you, little sister?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've had a lot of... stuff to do."

The friend's gaze lingers on you, searching for the truth behind the forced smile. "Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me," he says, before finally turning to leave. The door closes, and the room feels smaller, suffocating.

He pulls you closer, his grip painfully tight. "You're mine," he says, his voice a low growl. "You don't need anyone else."

His eyes bore into yours, demanding assurance, and you nod, the lie rolling off your tongue like a well-rehearsed script.

"Yes," you murmur, "I know."

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As the days go by, the lines between fear and obedience blur. You learn to anticipate his moods, his needs, his desires.

You become an expert at hiding your own emotions, burying your pain beneath a mask of submission. You go through the motions, cooking, cleaning, smiling when he enters the room.

But inside, you're screaming, a caged animal waiting for an escape that never comes.

One day, you're in the kitchen, your hands shaking as you prep dinner. The knife slips, slicing your finger, and blood wells up, a stark crimson against the pale flesh.

He's there in an instant, his eyes flickering with concern before they darken. "Careful," he says, his voice a low warning.

"You're too clumsy for your own good." He takes your hand, leading you to the sink to clean the wound.

But instead of the gentleness you expect, his grip turns cruel, his fingers pressing into your palm until you wince.

"You're going to be more careful," he says, his voice cold. "You're too precious to be ruined by something as stupid as an accident."

You nod, your heart racing as you watch the blood swirl down the drain. "I'll be more careful," you whisper, the words feeling like a noose around your neck.

He releases your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. "Good," he says, his voice softening slightly. "I'd hate for anything to happen to you."

But the way he says it, you know he's not just talking about accidents.

He's talking about you leaving, about you telling someone. The fear is a living thing inside you, a creature that feeds on your hope.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "Do you want me to kiss it better?" You can feel his arousal pressing against your side, his desire for you a constant, unyielding force.

You nod again, because what else can you do? He takes your injured finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the cut, the sensation surprisingly gentle.

The room spins around you, the line between love and hate blurring until you can't tell the difference.

His eyes never leave yours, his gaze holding you captive as his mouth works its magic. When he pulls away, you're left gasping for air, your body a battleground of emotions.

"Why?" you finally manage to ask, your voice shaking. "Why are you doing this?"

He looks at you, his expression a mix of anger and confusion. "Because I love you," he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Because you're mine, and no one else can have you."

You pull away, your heart racing. "But we're siblings," you protest, your voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't right."

He sighs, his grip on your hand tightening. "Don't say that," he says, his voice a low warning. "You're the only one who makes me feel alive, the only one who truly understands me. I'm going to marry you, make it official. No one can ever take that away from us."

His eyes are wild, desperate, and for a moment, you see the little boy who protected you from the monsters under the bed.

But the monster is him now, and there's no escape.

You nod, your voice trembling. "Okay," you say, the word sticking in your throat. "I'll be yours."

It's a hollow promise, but it's what he needs to hear.

His smile is like the sun coming out from behind a storm cloud, lighting up the room and your heart despite the fear.

That night, he takes you gently, as if you're made of glass. His touches are softer, his kisses more tender.

But the pain is still there, a constant reminder of the power he holds over you. You lay there, your body bruised and used, your mind racing with thoughts of escape, of telling someone.

But every time you open your mouth to speak, the fear clamps down, silencing you.

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As the weeks turn into months, the abuse becomes a twisted routine.

You find yourself craving the moments of tenderness he offers, the fleeting moments when he's not a monster, but the brother you once knew.

His love feels like a drug, an addiction that you can't shake, no matter how hard you try.

And he's always there, watching, waiting, making sure you know you're his.

One evening, as you lay in his arms, the room lit by the flickering TV, you feel something shift inside you. You've been playing along, pretending to be the obedient little sister and wife he wants, but the weight of the lie is crushing you.

You look up at him, his eyes closed in contentment, and for the first time, you feel something other than fear.

It's anger, burning hot and pure, a fire that's been smoldering deep within you. "I can't do this anymore," you say, your voice shaking with the force of your emotions.

He opens his eyes, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What do you mean?" he asks, his hand stroking your hair.

You sit up, pulling away from him. The words come out in a rush, the dam of your fear and anger finally breaking. "This isn't love, it's not normal. You can't just take what you want from me."

You can see the hurt in his eyes, but it's mixed with something else—a hint of anger.

"What do you know about love?" he snaps, his grip on your arm tightening.

"You're just a kid, playing games you don't understand." His voice is low, dangerous.

"You're mine, and you always will be. You don't get to decide who loves you, or how."

You try to pull away, but his hand is a vice, his nails digging into your skin. "Let go of me," you say, your voice trembling.

But he doesn't.

He pulls you closer, his eyes searching yours, looking for the submission he craves.

"You don't get it," he says, his voice a harsh whisper. "You're all I've ever had. You're all I've ever needed. And now that I have you, I won't let anyone else touch you."

His grip tightens, and you know he's not just talking about love anymore. He's talking about possession, about control.

You try to fight back, to push him away, but he's too strong. "Please," you whimper, the word a pitiful sound in the quiet room.

But it's not enough.

He's already decided what you are to him, and he won't be swayed.

He yanks you closer, his breath hot and sour in your face. "You're going to learn," he says, his voice a snarl. "You're going to learn to love me, to want this."

His hand moves down your body, cupping your breast roughly, his thumb flicking over your nipple. You flinch, the pain mixing with the fear and anger. "Look at me," he demands, his eyes boring into yours.

"Tell me you want it."

You can't find the words. You can't bring yourself to lie to him, not when you're so close to breaking free of this psychological cage of hoping he'd change.

Instead, you look away, your eyes filling with tears. "I can't," you murmur, your voice barely audible.

The anger in his eyes flickers, and for a moment, you think he might hit you again. But instead, he sighs, his expression softening slightly.

"You will," he says, his voice a promise and a threat. "You just need time." He releases your arm, his hand moving to gently wipe the tears from your cheek.

"But for now, you're mine. You're going to stay here, with me."

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But, that doesn't mean he's not vengeful.

Your older brother drags you down the stairs to the basement, his grip unyielding. The cold concrete floor hits your bare feet, sending shivers up your spine. You struggle, your body protesting, but his strength is too much.

He throws you into a dank, dimly lit corner, the scent of mold and dust thick in the air.

Ropes coil around your wrists and ankles, securing you to a rusty pipe that runs along the wall. You whimper as the metal digs into your skin, leaving a trail of cold, metallic pain.

"Why are you doing this?" you manage to ask through clenched teeth, the reality of your new prison setting in.

He paces the floor, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and disappointment. "Because you need to learn," he says, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"You need to understand that you can't just decide to stop loving me."

You stare at him in disbelief, the ropes biting into your skin as you try to pull away from the pipe. "This isn't love," you spit out, your voice raw with emotion. "What you're doing to me is sick."

He stops pacing, his gaze meeting yours with a cold intensity. "You think I don't know that?" he snaps.

"But it's all I know. It's all we have." He strides over to you, crouching down so he's level with your bound form.

"You're going to stay here, and think about what you've done." His hand comes up to caress your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

"And when you're ready to tell me the truth, when you're ready to love me the way you should, I'll be upstairs."

You feel bile rise in your throat at his touch, his words a twisted echo of the love you once knew. "I can't," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Please, just let me go."

He sighs, his expression a mix of frustration and something else—something that looks almost like regret.

"You don't get it," he murmurs, his hand dropping away. "This is for your own good." He stands, walking towards the stairs.

"You're going to thank me one day, when you realize what I've saved you from."

You watch as he ascends, the door at the top of the stairs slamming shut with a finality that makes your heart sink. The darkness of the basement envelops you, the silence deafening.

You try to scream, to call for help, but your voice is hoarse from the weekend's screams. You're alone, trapped in the cold embrace of the concrete walls.

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Days crawl by, each one a blur of pain and despair. He comes down to check on you, bringing you water and the bare minimum of food to keep you alive.

He doesn't touch you, doesn't speak of love. His eyes are hard, his expression unreadable.

But the silence is worse than the abuse—it's a constant reminder of the distance he's put between you. You beg, you plead, you scream, but he just watches with a detached air, as if you're nothing more than a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

On the third day, he finally speaks. "You've had your time to think," he says, his voice cold and unyielding.

"Now it's time for your next lesson." He crosses the room, his boots echoing on the hard floor.

You shrink back against the wall, your heart racing.

You're not ready for this, not ready to face the monster again.

But there's no escape, not here in the dark.

He unbinds one of your wrists, pulling you to your feet. You stumble, your legs wobbly from days of disuse. He leads you over to a dusty old chair in the center of the room, the legs scraping against the floor with an eerie sound.

"Sit," he commands, his voice devoid of warmth.

You do as you're told, the chair creaking beneath your weight, as he restrains your arms and ankles to the chair. He then stands in front of you, his eyes raking over your body with a hunger that makes your skin crawl.

"You're going to tell me you love me," he says, his voice low and menacing. "You're going to mean it, or you're going to regret it."

You shake your head, the words caught in your throat. "I can't," you choke out. "I'll never love you like that."

His expression darkens, and for a moment, you think he's going to hit you again. But instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a knife, the silver glinting in the dim light.

"You will," he says, his voice a promise. "I'll make sure of it." He flicks open the blade with a metallic snap, the sound echoing in the basement.

You try to jerk away, but the ropes around your ankles keep you in place, the chair digging into your back. "What are you going to do?" you ask, the fear in your voice clear.

He steps closer, the knife glinting in his hand. "I'm going to show you what happens when you deny me," he says, his voice a low growl.

"You're mine, and you will say it." His hand moves to your chest, pressing the cold steel against your skin just above your heart.

The threat is unmistakable.

You swallow hard, the fear thick in your throat. "I can't," you whisper, your eyes filling with tears. "Please, don't make me."

He sighs, his expression shifting from anger to something almost pitying. "You're so damn stubborn," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the blade's path along your collarbone.

"But I'll break you. I'll make you love me." He leans in, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck, just below your ear.

You shiver, trying to keep your revulsion from showing. "I'm sorry," you whisper, the words feeling like acid on your tongue.

"I love you." It's the first time you've said it, and you hate the way it feels—like a betrayal to every part of yourself that's been violated by his hands.

He pulls away, his eyes searching yours, looking for the truth he so desperately needs to see. You force a smile, hoping it's convincing enough. "I love you," you repeat, the words a little easier this time.

For a moment, you see a flicker of doubt in his eyes, but it's quickly replaced with satisfaction. "Good," he says, his voice soothing now.

"Very good." He reaches down, his hand brushing against the ropes that bind you to the chair.

"Now, let's see how much you mean it." He traces the knife along the fabric of your shirt, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine.

With one swift motion, he slices through the material, exposing your bra. The knife lingers for a moment before he cuts the clasp, the cups falling away to reveal your breasts. He cups one in his hand, his thumb circling your nipple.

You can't help the gasp that escapes your lips as he pinches it, the pain mixing with a twisted form of arousal that makes you feel dirty and disgusted with yourself.

"Look at how beautiful you are," he says, his voice a hypnotic purr. "So perfect for me." His other hand moves to the fly of his pants, the knife still in his grip. He opens them, freeing his erection, which stands tall and demanding.

You feel a fresh wave of dread as he steps closer, the knife still hovering near your skin.

"Now, tell me you want me," he commands, his eyes dark with lust. The blade presses harder against your flesh, the sting of it making you flinch.

You look away, unable to meet his gaze. "I want you," you murmur, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. You feel his hand tighten around your breast, his thumb flicking your nipple until it's hard and sensitive.

"Please," you add, hoping it's enough to satisfy his twisted desires.

He seems to consider your words, the knife pressing into your skin just enough to make you whimper. Then, with a smirk, he pulls away.

"Good girl," he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now, let's make it official." He grabs the knife again, this time bringing it to the waistband of your pants. With a quick jerk, he slices through the fabric, exposing you completely.

You struggle, trying to pull away from his touch, but he's too strong. He forces you to remain still, his hand moving down to cup your sex, his thumb stroking your clit with a brutal gentleness that makes you squirm.

"You're going to tell me you're mine," he says, his eyes boring into yours. "You're going to scream it."

You bite your lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I'm yours," you murmur, the words a defeated whisper.

He smiles, his grip on the knife loosening slightly. "That's my girl," he says, his voice a sickening blend of affection and triumph. He steps closer, the knife now tracing patterns on your exposed thigh, sending shivers of fear and anticipation through your body. You can feel his erection pressing against your leg, hot and insistent.

Without warning, he slams the knife into the chair, the blade sinking deep into the wooden frame. You flinch, your heart racing as you realize how close you just came to being sliced open. He grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Now, tell me," he says, his voice a demand.

"Tell me you're mine, and mean it." He repeats.

You stare into his eyes, the fear and disgust warring within you. But the knife, still lodged in the chair so close to your body, is a stark reminder of his power. "I'm yours," you murmur, the words barely audible.

His smile widens, and he leans in to kiss you, his breath hot and sour. You force yourself to remain still, to accept it, to survive. His hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss, his other hand still playing with your body.

You can feel the wetness between your legs, and you hate yourself for it—hate that your body can betray you like this.

He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes gleaming with triumph. You're panting, your heart racing from fear and the unwanted arousal his touch brings.

He takes the knife from the chair, the wood protesting as it's yanked free, and you can't help but feel a pang of relief that it's no longer a threat to your skin. But his gaze is on your thighs now, and you know that relief is short-lived.

"Look at me," he says, his voice low and commanding. You meet his eyes, trying to keep the fear and disgust from showing. "You're going to carry my mark," he continues, his tone matter-of-fact. "So you never forget who you belong to."

He grabs your chin, tilting your head back so you're forced to watch as he brings the knife closer to your skin. You flinch as the cold metal touches you, the tip hovering just above the delicate flesh of your inner thigh.

His hand is steady, his eyes never leaving yours as he traces the first letter of his name—a deep, painful groove that makes you try biting your lip to keep from screaming. The blood wells up, a crimson line against your pale skin.

But, it doesn't work.

The second you feel the searing pain of the knife digging deeply, your scream rips through the basement, echoing off the cold concrete walls.

He tightens his grip on your chin, forcing you to keep watching as he carves the next letter into your skin, the blood running down your thigh in a warm trickle. Your eyes are wide with shock and horror, your body sweating and shaking with pain and fear. He's methodical, taking his time with each stroke, his gaze never leaving yours.

The sound of your own cries is the only thing that breaks the silence, mixing with the wet, sickening sounds of the knife cutting into your flesh.

When he's done with the last letter, he pulls back, admiring his work with a twisted smile. "There," he says, his voice smug. "Now you're truly mine."

He reaches out to wipe the tears from your cheeks, his thumb coming away smeared with your blood. "You're beautiful, even when you're crying," he murmurs, his tone almost tender.

You can't help but flinch at his touch, the pain from the fresh wound making your stomach churn.

You look down, the sight of your own blood and his initials etched into your flesh making you feel like a piece of meat, marked and claimed. The pain is unbearable, and you can't stop the tears that stream down your face. "Please," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't do this to me. No more, please, I beg you."

He frowns, his expression one of disappointment. "You're supposed to be happy," he says, his voice tight.

"This is a declaration of love, not something to be feared." He grabs a rag from the floor, pressing it against the wound to stem the flow of blood.

"You need to learn to appreciate this, to cherish the bond we have." His tone is firm, brooking no argument.

You can't find the words to respond, your teeth chattering from the pain and the cold. You watch as he dresses himself, his movements deliberate and controlled.

He picks up the knife, wiping the blood off on the rag before slipping it back into his pocket. "I'll be back with something to clean you up," he says, his voice gentle, as if he's just finished giving you a present instead of violating you in the most horrific way.

He leaves you alone again, the door slamming shut like a tomb. The pain in your thigh is a constant reminder of his ownership, a brand that feels like it's burning into your soul.

You slump forward in the chair, the ropes digging into your skin, and sob into your knees. The basement is cold, the only warmth coming from the throbbing in your leg and the hot tears that fall onto the concrete floor.

────────────

When he returns, you're too tired to even look up. You feel him approach, his footsteps heavy on the stairs. He's carrying something, a first-aid kit maybe, but you don't care.

You're beyond caring.

He kneels in front of you, his hands surprisingly gentle as he takes the rag and replaces it with something cool and clean.

"Shh," he whispers, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheeks. "It's okay, it's okay."

The pain is overwhelming as he cleans the wound, the sting of antiseptic making you whimper.

You try to jerk away, but he holds you firm, his grip unyielding. "You have to let me take care of you," he says, his voice soft but firm.

"You're all mine, and I'll always take care of what's mine." He applies a bandage, his movements careful and precise, his eyes never leaving yours.

"It'll heal," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the bandage.

"But you'll always remember."

He stands up, his gaze lingering on your naked form. "I'll leave these off," he says, nodding to the ropes around your ankles. "But don't try to run. You're not going anywhere."

The door opens, and he steps back, giving you a view of the stairs leading up to freedom.

The temptation is almost too much to bear, but you know better than to try.

You nod, the reality of your situation sinking in deeper with every second.

He walks over to the stairs, his back to you. "You're going to stay here," he says without looking back.

"Think about what you've done to deserve this. Think about how much I love you."

The door closes again, and you're left alone with the echoes of his footsteps.

The ropes around your wrists cut into your skin, a constant reminder of his control. You try to tug them loose, but they're tight—too tight.

Your eyes drift to the bandages. Hiding the deep, scarring marks just right above your pussy, his initials branded onto you like your mere cattle.

You can't believe it—you can't believe he's done this to you.

But the pain in your thigh is all too real, a pulsing, raw ache that throbs with every beat of your heart.

You can feel the sticky warmth of blood seeping through the bandage, a grim reminder that you're not just his sister anymore.

────────────

List of Fandoms and Characters

Ace Attorney: N/A

Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa

Dishonored Series: Kirin Jindosh

Genshin Impact: Ayato Kamisato, Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima, Ushijima Wakatoshi

Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Chrollo Lucilfer

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru

Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zenin, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Se Jun-Lee

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Xavier

Naruto Shippuden: Kabuto Yakushi, Tobirama Senju

One Punch Man: Amai Mask

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: N/A

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans / Murder! Sans

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

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If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.

General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk-blog1

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yandere-romanticaa · 9 months ago

Text

Your relationship with Calcharo would be so low key that it would come to the point where you would not be even aware that you're together.

That's what the people around you think at least.

Everywhere you go, Calcharo will follow. Sometimes it's a lucky coincidence (and he totally did not personally hand pick a job in certain locations, goodness no!) or, he just flat out took some time for himself, took his hard earned cash and just. Decided to stick around for who knows how long. How are so many of your bills being paid all of a sudden? How come you've been getting a lot more free things as of late? And why are people avoiding you like the plague???

All you can do is stand there, confused on all of these strange outcomes as the imposing man stands behind you, like a dark shadow which tails your every single move. His tall figure, crossed arms and deadly glare have become all too common in your residential area.

Sometimes, if someone is brave enough, they'll comment on your guard dog boyfriend. "Tell him to relax." they'd say, their gaze laser focused on Calcharo as they start to ponder on whether or not they should just bolt in the opposite direction.

"Your boyfriend is terrifying!"

Hold on - boyfriend??? You had no boyfriend!

And everyone would just give you detailed descriptions of Calcharo but you would correct them in a heartbeat - no, he was not your boyfriend but that he was a sweetheart, despite his scary appearance.

... Many begged to differ but no one dared to inquire further.

Calcharo never bothered to correct or deny any of the things that were said about him. Deep down, he enjoyed being called your boyfriend.

Even if you weren't aware of the fact that you were dating yet.

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yandere-sins · 22 days ago

Note

shyly requesting a Yandere Jiyan x reader where both are in a arranged marriage and reader thinking that Jiyan does not want to be in this arrangement much like her tries her darn hardest to break off the engagement. from showing that she is very feisty and high maintenance to pointing out that they would not match personality wise. Even hinting that no offspring would ever be had since he always seems to be on the field working.

Thank you for requesting a very good boi ♥♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

♡ The first time you mention how awful and loveless this marriage will be, something inside him dies. Jiyan feels you slipping, distancing yourself, and although he knows you two are not in an ideal position where you'd marry him out of love and affection, his beliefs are shattered. You don't know how hard he worked on arranging this marriage or how much he paid to keep the reasons and unsettling doings hidden from you. Of course, you'd need time to warm up to the idea. But saying it is him who doesn't want it is completely tearing him and his efforts apart.

♡ Panic rises as you threaten to slip from his grasp, your refusal so harsh and to the point that it's like daggers into his heart. Nevertheless, he puts on a brave face just for you. A kind smile to cover the pain, and Jiyan gulps down the hurt. He can't close his eyes from reality—not when the reality is so beautiful since it's you, standing before him. He assures you that he'll do his utmost best to be the husband you deserve, even if the circumstances are... "unfortunate". Jiyan doesn't miss the way you flinch when he agrees with you, realizing too late that this only fuels your fire. You are not exactly begging, but pointing out the incompatible things about you two doesn't really help straying him from this path. In fact, he finds your feistiness and eagerness to be quite endearing, even though the topic is very serious.

♡ No matter what, you are already his. The marriage contract is signed, and in one more ceremony, you'll have no more excuses to make. For a while, Jiyan simply dissociates as you provide him with good and bad reasoning as to why you two would never work. It's unlike him to space out, but he can't help himself. His goals are finally in reach, and despite your doubts, he isn't concerned at all about having an arranged marriage with you. Instead, he thinks of your wedding gown, eating cake, and thanking all the guests attending the wedding. You, smiling and tearing up at the altar. Him, swaying you over the dancefloor. The honeymoon. The wedding night.

♡ "There won't be any intimacy." That does tear him out of his thoughts. He questions out loud why you'd think that, making you flustered with how straightforward he is about this intimate topic. You lower your voice as you explain that his work is important and exhausting, and with the marriage completely loveless, you are not going to wait up for him every night. Jiyan grows silent as you explain, not even having considered needing to be away from you for a prolonged time. It was true that he had to attend a lot of missions and important work obligations lately, which also prolonged your engagement. But with this point, you were actually right.

♡ "No can do," he concedes, nodding. "I'll have to step back from work a little."

♡ "Why would you do that?!" you question him, exasperated about how he didn't seem to share your concerns. This isn't the man you know who works harder than anyone else, and it's crazy how he could simply state he'd just drop some of his workload for you. Even like this, pouting and stressed, Jiyan has to hold back from not kissing you right then and there. You are adorable, no matter your emotional state, and he can't wait to see all the faces you make over the day. Faces only he gets to see, as your husband.

♡ "I can't allow my wife to be lonely," is his simple answer, knowingly lying through his teeth. Of course, it's not as easy as that. As much as he wishes to spend all his time with you, Jiyan feels dutybound, and there is no throwing away all his hard work if he wants to give you the life you deserve by his side. However, everything comes at a cost, and you are his well-deserved prize after all these years of looking out for other people. And if some words will finally make you his, he's not above lying to you, even if it hurts him. Even if it hurts you once you find out, he lied to you all along. But by then, it will already be too late. By then, you'll belong wholly and entirely to Jiyan and he doesn't plan to give you a way out even then.

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taintedbenevolence · 9 months ago

Note

general yandere hc for jiyan, please <3

Jiyan is a particularly protective yandere. It’s not necessarily with ill intentions either. Jiyan has lost many throughout his role as leading general of the Midnight Rangers.

It’s a dangerous occupation, and with that in mind, it’s very possible you will be eventually endangered in some way or another. This makes for fuel regarding his concerns, feeding his urge to protect you.

Jiyan does wish for your safety and preservation of your wellbeing, and he does mean well for you, but unfortunately, the means he does it by aren’t exactly comfortable.

It’s all too likely he’ll keep you confined within Jinzhou, and specifically only where he can keep you monitored.

He’ll do this without notifying anyone else, as that would prove unconventional. He makes sure you get exposure to the outside, but never outside Jinzhou’s borders unless you are with him.

Any attempt for you to try and leave the borders of Jinzhou without his presence will prove futile; Jiyan will be more than capable of finding you in a few hours, if not less after noticing.

If anything, he'll be upset and reprimand you for trying to leave, chastising you by telling you that his actions are to keep you safe.

Apart from being protective, though, it is unfortunately compound by a smidge of possessiveness. He isn't one to be selfish, or to act as such in front of all.

But behind closed doors, Jiyan shows more than the public sees. His urge to protect you is compound by the wish to keep you to himself out of fear of losing you.

Jiyan can't stand the thought of losing you, not after so many companions passed away in wars or battles against Tacet Discord outbreaks.

As such, Jiyan chooses to keep you where he knows you are safe and sound— where you are out of danger's reach, and where you will remain within his unyielding grasp.

It's not likely you'll ever be able to escape, and should you miraculously find a way to do so, it is without question that Jiyan will not rest until he has found you.

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rurann · 5 months ago

Text

Ruthless x Empathetic (Geshu Lin x Reader)

Chapters:

Previous: Chapter One

Next: Chapter Three

Tag list

Summary:

All you wanted was to help the wounded, to be a healer in a chaotic world. But after a fateful encounter with the cold and feared General Geshu Lin, your life takes a dark turn as he becomes dangerously obsessed with you.

[I made this because of the lack of Geshu Lin fanfics.]

Tags: Explicit

Love Triangles, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, General x Medic, Yandere Geshu Lin

[Tags will be updated as the story goes but I intend to have this story rated Explicit.]

Chapter Two

Under His Care

The next day began with an uneasy tension gripping your chest as you cautiously approached the base’s cafeteria. The lingering nerves from your interaction with General Geshu Lin the previous evening gnawed at you. You couldn’t get a good night's sleep as you tried to make sense of why it still left you feeling so unsettled. After all, the general hadn’t scolded you or even raised his voice. So why did the mere thought of crossing paths with him again fill you with apprehension?

Well, maybe not apprehension. Maybe you were just too shy to see him after the way you were being persistent with him.

You shook your head, trying to brush off the anxiety as you approached the cafeteria. Peeking around the corner, you scanned the room like a mouse surveying for danger. A few soldiers sat at scattered tables, laughing and eating breakfast as if there wasn’t a war looming over their heads in just a few hours. Everything seemed calm.

But you weren’t looking for just anyone. You searched for the tall, imposing figure with the long white hair. Your heart raced as your eyes flitted over each face, but the cafeteria appeared tranquil. If Geshu Lin had been there, you would have known. The air would be thick with tension, and the soldiers would sit in silence, careful not to draw his attention.

You sighed in relief, stepping out from behind the corner, ready to walk in—

“This is amusing.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around so fast you almost lost your balance. Your wide eyes landed on a familiar face, and your heart skipped a beat.

Jiyan’s tall form loomed before you, his expression dripping with amusement. He raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Didn’t know you were such a jumpy one.”

You let out an exhale of relief. As you tried to compose yourself, you said, “Jiyan, you scared me.”

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned casually against the wall. “Looks like you were scouting the cafeteria like you were preparing for battle. Expecting someone?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed at being caught sneaking around like a child. “No, I was just… making sure if there is a good seat.”

The tip of Jiyan’s lips curved in a subtle smile. He pushed himself off of the wall and stepped towards the cafeteria as he told you, “In that case, why don’t we find a table? I hope there is an empty one.”

You finally shook off your nervousness and followed Jiyan into the cafeteria, the breeze of his presence calming your jittery thoughts.

As you both found an empty table near the window, you sat down and tried to relax. After all, you had been so tense recently, caught up in the intensity of your heavy duties. Maybe it was time to loosen up a little.

Jiyan sat across from you. He had a natural ease to him, serious but approachable, as if he could carry the weight of the world without letting it crush him. You admired that about him, though you'd never say it out loud. You’re just getting to know him.

“I couldn’t find the right time to get to know you during the training,” Jiyan began, his voice a low rumble. “I was surprised to see your profile. It says you have just turned eighteen and have gotten your Tacet mark when you were much younger. That’s impressive.”

You averted your gaze bashfully. “I didn’t know they’d put that detail into my profile.”

Jiyan began tearing into his breakfast with his chopsticks. “I apologize if it’s an invasion of privacy to you-”

“It’s alright,” you cut him off with a rueful smile. “Such details might be important to the higher-ups.”

“But the details aren’t that specific,” Jiyan pointed out. “It did not state at what age your Resonance manifested.”

You stared at him in contemplation. “Hmm. I think I was ten when I got it.”

As you finally took the first bite of your breakfast, Jiyan blinked his eyes at you in amazement. “Were you scared?”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. As you chewed your meal properly, the teal-haired man before you finally had his first bite as well. He made no indication to rush the conversation, even though time was limited for all of you. Not when the war against Tacet Discords was looming over everyone’s head.

“I was frightened,” you stated, gazing at your breakfast. “I couldn’t control my Glacio at that time. I was scared that I would end up freezing my parents in a panic.”

Jiyan stared at you for a long while, chewing his breakfast soundlessly. His silence provided you ample time to respond. “Thankfully, there was another veteran Resonator nearby, and he taught me how to control it.”

“That’s good to hear,” commented Jiyan. “Was that the moment when you finally decided to use your Resonance as a support?”

You nodded your head, although you knew you had dreamt of it even before you got your Tacet mark. “Yeah. It feels nice to see someone you heal get back on their feet. I hope my support as a rearguard contributes greatly to the battlefield.”

Jiyan spoke, “I’m certain it does. Every ranger you tend to will come back to the war stronger. You and the rest of the support help a lot.”

A genuine smile blossomed on your face like a sunflower to the sun. Jiyan never failed to amaze you with his comforting choice of words. Talking with him was so easy and calming. He was like a cool breeze in a warm season.

“You say that as if you’re not a rearguard yourself, Dr. Jiyan,” you teased with a grin.

Jiyan chuckled. “I am just a normal doctor. Compared to a supporting Resonator like you, I am just a normal man.”

You laughed softly at Jiyan's modest words. “A normal doctor who’s highly respected among the Midnight Rangers. I don’t think ‘just a normal man’ fits you very well.”

Jiyan smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I believe you got the wrong man regarding highly respected. You’re probably referring to General Geshu Lin.”

Something dawned on you the moment the general’s name was mentioned. With your smile slowly dropping, you asked curiously, “I haven’t seen him in the cafeteria yet. Is he always this late to breakfast?”

“He never comes to the cafeteria,” Jiyan apprised. “The cook will prepare breakfast for him at five in the morning, and a ranger will deliver it to the general’s tent.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment. “At five in the morning?”

Jiyan replied, “He usually wakes up early and trains after breakfast at five. Everyone can see him training at a hidden spot just northeast of the base, but no one dared to disturb him.”

Taking in that information, you harrumphed, “Hmm, I see.”

The calmness of the morning was soon replaced by the hum of soldiers preparing for the battle ahead. The cafeteria quickly emptied as the Midnight Rangers moved with purpose, heading toward the central courtyard where everyone was expected to gather. You and Jiyan joined the steady stream of soldiers, and the air grew thick with tension as anticipation for the day’s war against the Tacet Discords loomed overhead.

Once outside, soldiers were lined up in their respective formations. You stood among the rearguards, a smaller group that would stay back to heal and provide support when needed. Despite your efforts to stay calm, your heart thudded in your chest as you looked around. Everyone was so focused. Even the lighthearted conversation you shared with Jiyan earlier now felt like a distant memory, replaced by the cold reality of war.

The moment was broken when you spotted a shift in the crowd. General Geshu Lin had arrived.

Your eyes were instantly drawn and glued to the imposing figure moving through the ranks. There he was – the general himself, tall and commanding, with his long white hair flowing as he walked. His presence rippled through the assembled soldiers, their backs straightening, heads turning as if drawn by an invisible force. The air around him seemed to crackle with tension, and it was clear that even the most battle-hardened rangers were on edge in his presence.

It was hard to comprehend that this was the same man whom you tended to last night. You were being an annoying little medic to him – he even muttered ‘insolent’ to you – and yet he did not chew you out or yell at you for overstepping. It was then you realized that, yes, he was cold and unapproachable, but you had never once seen him raise his voice to anyone. He merely intimidated everyone around him.

Geshu Lin wasted no time. He headed straight for the veterans and battlefield strategists who had already gathered in a small circle nearby. A hologram of a specific spot in Norfall Barrens was prepared beforehand. It appeared that that’s the site where everything would go down. You, standing close enough with the rearguards, couldn’t help but overhear bits of their discussion.

“—Intel confirms their movements near the northern valley. They’ll likely use the terrain to their advantage,” said one of the strategists, his voice clipped and precise.

“The Discords won’t move in a predictable formation,” another chimed in. “They’ve shown signs of erratic behaviour. We need to prepare for an ambush.”

Geshu Lin’s voice cut through the conversation like a blade, calm but with a quiet authority that demanded attention. “They’ll try to flank us at the first opportunity. We’ll divide the forces into two main fronts. One to hold their attention in the valley, and another to sweep in from the east.”

You swallowed hard, absorbing the gravity of the situation. The Tacet Discords were dangerous, unpredictable creatures born from the chaotic disruptions in frequency energy. They appeared to be creatures with nothing on their mind but kill. You had seen some of them before and noticed how mindless they behaved. Annihilation was the only thing in their head.

As the discussion continued, another veteran spoke up. “What about the rearguard unit, sir? We have advanced further into Norfall Barrens, where the rearguards’ camps were miles away from the site. Our wounded soldiers will have a problem reaching the medics.”

Geshu Lin’s cold eyes flickered with thought before he declared, “Five rearguards will join each vanguard unit. They will stay close enough to provide immediate support but out of sight. This way, they can tend to the wounded before the Discords have time to overwhelm the frontlines.”

You felt a sharp pang of anxiety as you processed his words. This meant some of you would be much closer to the battlefield than anticipated. You exchanged nervous glances with the other rearguards, who had overheard the same decision. This was how it felt like being in a war. You did not know what would happen. One day, you could be at the back, providing support. The next day, you could be at the very front with a greater risk of death. A war had always been unpredictable and merciless. You could not say no. It was your duty, after all.

One of the more seasoned strategists, an older man with a scar running across his cheek, frowned profoundly and said, “General, with all due respect, that area is riddled with uneven terrain. There are countless places for the Tacet Discords to hide. If we send rearguards with the vanguard, they could be ambushed from behind. We’d be putting them at risk.”

Geshu Lin’s eyes were steady, unwavering as he turned to face the strategist. “We’ll use the terrain to our advantage.”

A murmur rippled through the strategists, a mixture of surprise and curiosity at the general’s unshaken confidence. Geshu Lin continued, his voice firm but calm as ever.

“We will claim the terrain before the Discords can. If we take the high ground and secure key points along the ridges and slopes, we deny them the chance to use it for ambushes,” he said as his gaze swept across the group. “The rearguards will hide in the natural alcoves and rock formations. That will give them the advantage of cover, and they’ll be prepared to receive any wounded rangers immediately. At the same time, other troops will ensure there are no blind spots. No place for the Discords to flank.”

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed his plan. It was risky, but the more you thought about it, the more sense it made. By taking control of the terrain quickly, the Midnight Rangers could turn the area’s natural features into their stronghold rather than leaving them as potential hiding spots for the enemy.

The older strategist, after a long pause, nodded his head slowly. “Understood, General. We’ll adjust our formations accordingly.”

Geshu Lin gave a curt nod in return, and without another word, the strategists and veterans dispersed to relay the new orders to the rest of the troops. One of the strategists relayed the plan to Changmin, a senior medic, right away.

In the latter’s hands, he held a list, the paper slightly crumpled from being rolled and unrolled several times. He studied it for a moment, his brows furrowed in concentration. Then, taking a pen from his pocket, he began marking off names with quick, decisive strokes.

After a few minutes of marking the list, he straightened up, his stern expression giving nothing away. He turned to face you all, his voice loud and commanding as it rang out over the crowd. “Five rearguards will be assigned to each vanguard troop, including the main force led by General Geshu Lin himself.”

You held your breath, nerves coiling tighter in your stomach as you waited to hear the names. The silence was almost unbearable as he began reading from the list.

“Yin Lei, Liang Mei, Hua Jin, Bai Yu, Song Lin,” he called out in a firm tone. One by one, each rearguard whose name was called stepped forward with varying expressions as they joined their assigned troops.

Changmin continued down the list. “Feng Li, Xian Zhi, Chen Min, Zhou Ping, and (Y/n).”

Your heart skipped a beat as your name echoed in the air. You weren’t sure whether to feel proud or terrified. All you knew was that you were now among those selected to stand closer to the frontlines. Your legs felt heavier than usual as you stepped forward, joining the others who had been named.

There was a slight murmur in the crowd as those not selected exchanged glances of relief or disappointment. You couldn’t help but glance over at Jiyan, whose name had not been called. He stood silently, his gaze meeting yours for a brief moment, offering a silent nod of encouragement. The calm steadiness in his eyes was reassuring, even as you felt the weight of your new assignment settle on your shoulders.

Changmin continued, “The other rearguards will stay with the secondary line or wait in your tents. Dr. Jiyan will be in charge of all of you. Listen to any incoming orders. You might be asked to provide backup for the primary troops. Stay alert and be ready to move if necessary.”

Jiyan nodded his head, prepared to take on the new duty. With that done, Changmin turned to the selected rearguards and said, “Now, to those who are selected, I have chosen which troop you will be assigned to.”

Changmin cleared his throat as he began assigning the selected rearguards to their respective vanguard troops. His eyes scanned the list once more before he started.

“Yin Lei, Liang Mei, Hua Jin, Bai Yu, and Song Lin,” he announced. “You will join the main force under General Geshu Lin’s command. You are to follow closely, provide medical support from enemies’ sights, and remain hidden until called upon.”

The five rearguards nodded solemnly. They gathered their gear and stood off to the side, ready to integrate with the main troop led by the formidable general himself.

Changmin moved down the list, his pen tapping against the paper as he assigned the rest. “Feng Li, Xian Zhi, Chen Min, Zhou Ping, and (Y/n), you will be assigned to Vanguard Troop Two, led by Captain Shen Xue. This troop will be stationed to the east of the battlefield. Your task is the same – stay close, provide support, and be prepared for any unexpected developments.”

You nodded before you and the rest hurried to meet up with Vanguard Troop Two. Captain Shen Xue, a stoic man with short, dark hair and sharp features, was already waiting for you in the queue. He gave each of you a once-over with a quick, assessing glance.

“Rearguards,” he greeted with a curt nod, his voice steady but firm. “Feng Li, Xian Zhi, Chen Min, Zhou Ping, (Y/n), I expect you to stay vigilant and act swiftly. We’ll be stationed in a high-risk zone, so there won’t be much room for mistakes. Do your job, and we’ll keep the frontlines intact.”

You and your squadmates nodded in unison, absorbing his words. The captain didn’t linger on formalities or small talk; he was straight to the point. After a few more brief instructions, Shen Xue gestured for all of you to line up with the rest of the troop.

It didn’t take long before the familiar figure of Geshu Lin strode to the very front of the gathered forces, his presence as commanding as ever. The general’s long white hair moved gently with the wind, and his cold, piercing gaze swept over the assembled rangers.

Geshu Lin stopped in front of his main troop’s line and blinked, something shifting in his expression as if realization suddenly dawned on him. His sharp voice cut through the silence. “Rearguards, raise your hands.”

The rearguards assigned to his main force obeyed immediately, raising their hands without hesitation. The general’s eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized them. After a moment, he asked, “Are any of you a Resonator?”

The rearguards exchanged brief, uneasy glances before answering in unison, “No, sir.”

Geshu Lin’s expression remained unreadable as he processed the rearguards’ response. Then, without warning, he walked past his own troop and strode down the lines of assembled rangers. His long hair trailed behind him as his sharp gaze swept over the troops. His eyes moved purposefully, scanning each soldier with an intensity that made the air feel even heavier.

You watched him carefully, your curiosity piqued. What is he looking for? You could feel the tension ripple through the ranks as he approached closer to your position. You braced yourself, hoping that whatever was on his mind didn’t involve you. Yet, as if drawn by some unseen force, the general’s footsteps led him directly toward Vanguard Troop Two.

He moved with quiet precision, his eyes glancing past several of your fellow squad-mates. For a moment, it seemed like he would continue walking, passing your troop without incident. But then, just as he neared, his gaze landed squarely on you. Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety shooting through your veins as he suddenly stopped and stood right in front of you.

You looked up at him, your wide, startled eyes meeting his cold, piercing gaze. His towering presence made you feel impossibly small, his expression giving away nothing. You wondered what you had done to draw his attention. Did you make a mistake earlier? Did he disapprove of something? Your mind raced as you tried to decipher the reason for his sudden focus on you.

Then you realized. Is he going to scold me in front of everybody for being insolent to him last night?

Before you could react further, Captain Shen Xue noticed the interaction and quickly approached. He stopped beside Geshu Lin and asked, “What’s the matter, General?”

For a moment, Geshu Lin didn’t respond. His cold gaze remained locked on you as though he were assessing something beyond what you could comprehend. The silence stretched uncomfortably, your anxiety climbing higher with every second that passed.

“You,” Geshu Lin said to you, his voice cutting through the tense silence. “You will join my troop. Your Resonance skills are better suited for the frontlines.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The shock of his words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, all you could do was stare up at him, unsure if you had heard him correctly. You, reassigned to the main force? His troop at the frontlines? A whirlwind of thoughts spun in your mind, and you couldn’t decide if this was an honour or a punishment.

Geshu Lin paused, his cold gaze flickering away from you as he looked elsewhere, his sharp voice ringing out again. “Who was in charge of reassigning the medics?”

Changmin, the senior rearguard, cautiously stepped forward. His posture stiffened as he spoke, “It was me, sir.”

Silently, Geshu Lin turned his back on the assembled troops and began walking toward his main force. His long white hair breezed after him as he moved. Over his shoulder, he commanded, “This Resonator will be in my troop. Swap her in.”

“Yes, sir,” Changmin replied, his voice steady as if he was glad he didn’t get scolded.

As the general disappeared into the distance, Changmin pulled out the same list and scanned through it. With a quick pen stroke, he made an adjustment, then looked at you and gestured for you to follow him. Still reeling from the sudden change of events, you found yourself moving without thought, your feet carrying you forward as if on autopilot.

You ended up standing in front of the main force, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of your new reality began to sink in. This was no ordinary assignment. You were now in the presence of Geshu Lin’s elite. The responsibility, the danger, all of it felt heavier than before.

Changmin offered a brief explanation. “Song Lin, you have been reassigned to Vanguard Troop Two. (Y/n), you will take over her place.”

Song Lin, one of the rearguards originally assigned to the main force, stepped forward. Surprise was vivid on her face. She gave you a slight nod before heading off to join Vanguard Troop Two, leaving you standing in her former spot.

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. This was happening. You were now part of the general’s troop, standing at the very front of the battle line.

You couldn’t help but glance at Jiyan, who was standing in the rearguards’ queue. He was already looking at you. Once you two made steady eye contact, he mouthed to you soundlessly, “Be careful.”

You nodded, feeling pale all of a sudden. You couldn’t believe this. One moment, you were back there, and now you were at the very front. You felt your heart being seized by a cold, gripping sensation. Fear. Anxious. Horror. What did you do to have brought yourself here? Was it because the general had seen what you were capable of last night? Is this called a butterfly effect?

A noise from the front snapped you out of your thoughts. You lifted your head, and there he was – Geshu Lin, standing before you, his back broad and imposing. He had a large, deadly broadblade in hand, its cold metal gleaming in the dim light. You watched in awe and nervousness as he calmly attached it to his back, his movements precise and practised. The blade seemed almost too large for one person to wield, yet in his hands, it looked as natural as breathing.

Then, his voice rang out, commanding and unwavering. “Rangers, it’s fight or die. We move forward.”

The response from the troops was immediate and unified. “Yes, sir!”

With that, the entire troop began to move, marching steadily toward the battlefield. You felt your legs moving, too, but the cold grip of fear hadn’t loosened its hold on your heart.

As you approached the site, a vast stretch of rugged terrain came into view. You recognized it from the hologram you saw previously. It was an unforgiving landscape, littered with jagged rocks, uneven slopes, and scattered ridges that would be perfect hiding spots for the Tacet Discords. The wind howled through the valley, giving a sense of foreboding.

But the Discords had yet to appear.

A senior strategist, a man with greying hair and sharp eyes, quickly approached Geshu Lin’s side. Keeping his voice low, he said, “General, TDs are nowhere to be seen yet. This could be the perfect opportunity to set up our formation.”

Geshu Lin, who had been surveying the landscape with a cold, calculating gaze, nodded slightly. Without a word, he moved ahead, his broadblade still resting on his back as if anticipating the moment he would need it. His presence, as always, felt larger than life, keeping your gaze glued to him almost all the time.

The strategist began issuing commands swiftly, relaying the formation plan the group had discussed earlier. As planned, the vanguard troops were divided into two main fronts – one to hold the Discords in the valley and the other to sweep in from the east.

You were part of the rearguard that would stay close but out of sight, hidden in the alcoves and rock formations along the ridges. It was a strategic position, covering the injured while keeping you near enough to assist when needed. But it also placed you dangerously close to the front lines, and that frightened you. You might not show it, but you were terrified.

As the troops began to take their positions, you scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of movement. The Discords could strike at any moment. From the corner of your eye, you saw Geshu Lin moving with purpose, positioning himself at the forefront of his main troop.

The wind picked up, carrying a distant, unsettling sound. You weren’t sure if it was the TDs or just the valley playing tricks on your ears, but it made you shiver. Beside you, one of the rearguards muttered under their breath, “It’s too quiet…”

You couldn’t agree more. Every second of silence felt like the calm before a storm. You glanced at Geshu Lin again, feeling reliant on him now. He stood motionless as though he was waiting – listening.

Just as the silence began to stretch, a piercing scream shattered the stillness, causing everyone to jump. Instinctively, you turned to see a gigantic, mayfly-like creature burst forth from a hidden crevice, its iridescent wings glistening in the dim light.

Panic surged through you as the Tacet Discord, known as a Cruisewing, zeroed in on Hua Jin, one of the medics selected for Geshu Lin’s troop. It swooped down with a terrifying speed, its long, stinger-like appendage aimed straight at him.

Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror. The creature stung Hua Jin in the ribs, and he gasped, collapsing to the ground in an instant. Chaos erupted as soldiers shouted, their voices mingling with the frantic beating of wings. You could feel your heart racing, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Without a second thought, you instinctively dashed forward, urgency propelling you toward Hua Jin. You had to reach him; you had to heal him. But the Cruisewing loomed dangerously close, its wings buzzing ominously. You knew you had to act quickly, but fear gripped you tightly.

Then, something shot past you, a blur of motion that made your breath hitch. It was General Geshu Lin. He appeared beside Hua Jin in the blink of an eye, his cold demeanour unshaken even amidst the chaos. With a swift and practised movement, he drew his broadblade and swung it with deadly precision. The Cruisewing barely had time to react before the blade sliced through the air, cutting it in two.

The creature crumpled to the ground, its body collapsing lifelessly beside Hua Jin. You stood frozen for a moment, disbelief washing over you as you processed what had just happened. Everything was too fast. Your poor medic self couldn’t keep up.

That was the first time you had gotten so close to a Tacet Discord. And that was also your first time seeing a powerful Resonator in action before your eyes. General Geshu Lin… was outstanding in his own way.

Hua Jin's pained groan finally snapped you out of your trance. Your heart raced as you rushed to his side. Kneeling beside him, you inspected the wound. The Cruisewing's sting had left a deep gash, and you could see the traces of venom spreading around it, dark and pulsing ominously against his skin.

“Rangers, bring him behind that boulder,” Geshu Lin commanded. He pointed to a large boulder nearby, its sheer size providing a potential shelter. “And get back to your formation. Enemies incoming.”

You glanced up, following his gaze, and your heart dropped. A horde of Tacet Discords surged toward you from the distance, their grotesque forms moving with a disturbing grace. They poured down the hill like a dark tide, some of them massive, their bodies armoured and imposing. One of them stood out with thick, shell-like plating, a true embodiment of terror that sent a chill through your bones.

This was the first time you had seen such a horrifying army of Tacet Discords up close, and the sight was enough to make your blood run cold. The sheer scale of their numbers and the brutal power they exuded filled you with dread. If there were no Midnight Rangers and no Resonators, this army could take down Jinzhou easily.

You joined the other rangers as they lifted Hua Jin, struggling to keep him steady as they manoeuvred him toward the boulder. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt the ground tremble beneath you, the approaching Discords growing nearer with every passing second.

Once you reached the boulder, you quickly set Hua Jin down and crouched beside him. The rest of the rearguards were about to tend to Hua Jin with their tools, and you quickly interjected, “It’s okay. I can handle him from here. Save your tools.”

The rearguards gave you a nod of acknowledgement before they moved to another location, readying themselves for the next wave of wounded. You turned your attention wholly to Hua Jin, your hands already glowing with the familiar resonance of your healing ability. The cold energy surged from your palms, sinking into his flesh, gradually closing the venomous wound inflicted by the Cruisewing. Hua Jin winced but gave no further sign of pain.

Suddenly, a deafening roar reverberated through the air, followed by a blast so powerful it nearly knocked you off your feet. You jerked your head toward the battlefield, eyes wide with shock. Dark purple flames crackled and danced across the ground, leaving scorched earth in their wake. Geshu Lin had unleashed his Resonance Liberation – an overwhelming surge of power that ignited the battlefield just as the Tacet Discord army closed in.

The war had begun.

The vanguards met the advancing horde of Discords with fierce determination, their guns firing like crazy at the twisted monstrosities. The air was thick with the sounds of battle – metal against bone, the screeches of the Discords, and the shouts of rangers giving orders and rallying each other.

You poured more of your Resonance into Hua Jin, sealing his wound completely, leaving behind a pale, icy scar of Glacio. He studied it briefly, then looked at you with a grateful nod.

“Thanks,” he murmured before getting to his feet. His eyes were wide, scanning the battlefield as he hurried off to another boulder, ready to assist the wounded as they came.

You remained behind, pressing your back against the gigantic rock that provided you with a great hiding spot. This was your spot now. You had to stay here, waiting for the inevitable flood of injured rangers needing your healing. The sounds of battle raged on, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at the chaos unfolding before you.

Geshu Lin was at the forefront, his movements precise and deadly as he cut down Tacet Discords left and right. The purple flames from his Resonance Liberation still lingered on the battlefield, creating a scorching barrier between the vanguards and the incoming horde. But despite his overwhelming power, more Discords poured in, seemingly endless.

One of the armoured beasts, its hide impenetrable like stone, charged at a group of rangers. Its massive, clawed limbs dug into the earth as it barrelled toward them, and for a moment, you feared for their lives. But just as it was about to reach them, Geshu Lin was there, his broadblade flashing in the air. With a swift, decisive strike, he cleaved the monster's head clean off, sending its body crashing to the ground.

You watched in awe, barely comprehending the sheer power of the man leading the vanguard.

Before you could gawk any longer at the general’s skill, movement from the corner of your eye snapped you back to reality. Wounded rangers were limping toward the rearguards, struggling to reach safety. You blinked, refocusing, and quickly rushed to meet them. The battlefield thundered around you, but you blocked it out, setting your focus entirely on the task at hand.

With a deep breath, you called upon your Glacio Resonance, feeling the familiar cold energy surge through you. Your hands glowed faintly as you began healing the wounded soldiers, patching them up one by one.

“Another army of Tacet Discords incoming from the left!” someone shouted, their voice hoarse with alarm.

Your head snapped toward the left. Eyes wide, you spotted it – another wave of Discords charging from that direction. Larger. Fiercer. Your stomach dropped.

Fear coursed through you like ice, but you didn’t let it take hold. Not now. There were soldiers in front of you, hurt and bleeding. You couldn’t waste time.

You pressed your hands against a ranger’s arm, sealing his wound shut. You couldn’t afford to think about what was coming. The only thing you could do was keep healing. Keep them alive.

The ground trembled again as the new horde grew closer. You could hear their shrieks now, their guttural howls mingling with the cries of your fellow rangers. But you forced yourself to stay calm, to keep working.

“Stay with me,” you told another ranger, his breathing ragged as you closed a nasty gash on his leg. He nodded, though his eyes were glazed with pain.

All around, the sound of gunfire and metal clashing with Discord flesh raged on. You cast a quick glance at the battlefield, spotting Geshu Lin once more. He hadn’t stopped, still cutting down Discords like a force of nature.

But that didn’t make the army charging from the left any less terrifying. They were coming, and fast.

The sight of the monstrous horde surging toward you made your heart pound painfully in your chest. Panic clawed at the edges of your mind, threatening to overwhelm you. You quickly averted your gaze, focusing back on the wounded soldiers at your feet.

One breath. Then another.

Suddenly, a blast hit the battlefield with a force that shook the ground beneath you. It was so powerful that even the rushing rangers halted in their tracks. A hot breeze followed, washing over you and filling the air with heat and dust.

Your head snapped up, curiosity sparking through the fear. What was that?

It was Geshu Lin.

The general had unleashed another wave of his Resonance Liberation, an attack so fierce it obliterated half of the incoming Tacet Discord army in one devastating blow. Dark purple flames coated the ground where his energy had struck, their eerie glow lighting up the chaos.

You stared in awe as the aftermath settled, and Reverberations of the fallen Tacet Discords flickered faintly, ghostly echoes of their defeat. But what struck you most was Geshu Lin himself. His broadblade now burned with those same dark flames, and the air around him charged with energy, almost crackling. He looked unstoppable.

But it wasn’t over.

The other half of the Discord army still pressed forward. You felt the tension in the air shift, the other rangers glancing warily at the oncoming monsters. Even with Geshu Lin’s power, the fight was far from won.

You turned back to the soldier beneath you. His wounds were closing, but the exhaustion was beginning to wear on you. Each use of your Resonance drained you a little more. But you couldn’t stop. Not yet.

Another wounded ranger stumbled toward you, blood running down their arm. You waved them over, saying, “Please lie down. I will tend to you in seconds!”

There was no time for fear. Just survival.

Hours blurred into each other as you worked. You barely noticed time passing. Your focus was on the wounded soldiers in front of you, one after the other, each needing your Resonance to close their gashes, mend their broken bones, or seal deadly stings. The battlefield was a blur of chaos and noise, but you had no time to let it sink in.

Every now and then, you’d feel the familiar surge of energy in the air – Geshu Lin unleashing yet another mighty blast of his Resonance. The waves of dark energy crackled across the battlefield, buying precious seconds for the rangers to regroup, though each blast seemed to echo a grim truth. The Tacet Discords weren’t stopping.

You were exhausted, barely catching your breath between wounded rangers who stumbled toward you, bloodied and broken. Still, you pressed on, the icy Glacio Resonance flowing from your hands like second nature. You had to keep them alive.

And then, out of nowhere, a soft beep cut through the din. A message.

Your Terminal buzzed at your back, and you quickly wiped the growing Glacio and blood off of your hands on your uniform before tapping it. A small hologram popped up, floating in the air beside you. Jiyan’s message. You checked the time, your eyes widening in shock. Six hours had passed since the battle started.

His voice was calm, but the urgency in his message was apparent.

“Intel reports the waves of Tacet Discords aren’t stopping anytime soon. I’ve been cleared to move the other rearguards closer to the site. Let the injured know they can head to our makeshift tent, just down the road from the battlefield.”

You quickly glanced around, spotting more wounded rangers struggling to move, some on the verge of collapse. Relief washed over you. Finally, backup. But the never-ending onslaught of Discords meant the battle was far from over.

You sent a brief verbal response to Jiyan before you turned to the nearest ranger. His arm – which was bent abnormally – was devoid of pain for the time being since you had tended to him using your Glacio skill briefly. It helped him withstand the pain as you helped the other injured rangers who were in a much more critical condition. You spoke quickly, “There's a makeshift tent down the road. Can you walk?”

He nodded weakly.

“Good. Head that way. More medics are there, and they’ll take over.”

One by one, you began directing the wounded yet capable soldiers toward the tent while you received those with critical conditions. As you watched them stagger toward safety, you couldn’t help but feel a knot of dread forming in your chest.

The waves were unrelenting. What if they never stopped?

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a veteran strategist sprinting toward the centre of the battlefield, weaving through the chaos. He halted just shy of Geshu Lin, who was locked in combat with a swarm of massive Tacet Discords, their grotesque forms looming over him. The general, undeterred, was carving through them like they were nothing.

“General!” the strategist shouted, voice strained as he fought to be heard over the clamour. “Intel reports the waves won’t stop! More are coming! We need to pull back and regroup our forces!”

For a moment, you held your breath, watching as Geshu Lin dispatched the last of the ten towering Discords with a few lethal swings of his broadblade. Dark flames still clung to his blade, crackling ominously. He didn’t even glance at the strategist when he spoke, voice low but resolute.

“No retreat,” he said. “We reclaim this site at once.”

The strategist’s face paled, but he didn’t argue. You felt the weight of Geshu Lin’s decision settle over the battlefield like a heavy fog. Retreat was not an option. Not under his command.

Your heart pounded as the enormity of the situation sank in. The Discords kept coming, their numbers seemingly endless. But retreat wasn’t on the table.

You continued tending to the wounded, hands trembling as your Resonance took its toll. The constant use of Glacio was wearing you down, and the signs were showing. Ice crystals began to form at the tips of your fingers, slowly creeping toward your palms. You tried shaking it off, clenching and unclenching your fists to restore warmth, but the frost always returned.

With each passing second, the cold intensified.

A sudden scream cut through the chaos, sharp and panicked. It wasn’t far from you. Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your hands pressed against the wounded ranger in front of you, your Glacio healing him just enough to stabilize the bleeding. Still, your gaze darted to the battlefield.

There, not too far away, a ranger had fallen, sprawled on the ground in a heap. Standing over him was a Tacet Discord you recognized all too well – a Fusion Warrior.

The monster was humanoid in shape, but its arms were grotesque, massive limbs made of Fusion-infused rock that tapered to a sharp, deadly point, like a giant spearhead. It moved with terrifying speed, faster than anything its size should. You’d seen these before. They didn’t just attack. They targeted. They locked onto their prey and struck with a speed that made escape nearly impossible.

The wounded soldier scrambled to his feet, sprinting toward safety, toward you. But then you saw it – just behind him, the Fusion Warrior braced itself to strike.

"Behind you!" you screamed, your voice raw with urgency.

The ranger barely had time to turn before the Fusion Warrior zipped forward, faster than anything that large had a right to be. Its jagged, stone-like arm pierced him straight through the abdomen. His scream tore through the battlefield as the Tacet Discord lifted him off the ground, his body hanging limply from the monster’s spear-like arm.

Panic surged through you. Without hesitation, you shot to your feet, heart hammering as you darted toward them. The battlefield felt different once you stepped into its heart – a visceral wave of death, blood, and decay hit you all at once. The stench was suffocating, but you pushed through. Your mind was fixed on saving the ranger.

With a swift motion, you summoned your weapon. Your rectifier materialized in the air beside you, its form glowing with the icy blue of your Glacio Resonance. You didn't waste time. With a sharp flick of your wrist, you unleashed a gust of Glacio, a chilling blast that slammed into the Fusion Warrior, shoving it away. The monster released its grip, and the ranger fell to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

You rushed to his side, quickly forming a Glacio shield around you both. The shield shimmered, a translucent barrier of ice standing between you and the horrors outside. You barely had time to breathe, hands already embracing him in an attempt to help him get on his feet.

Then, you felt it – a sudden impact. Your shield shuddered but held. You glanced up. The same Fusion Warrior. It had recovered quickly, and now it was striking at your shield, trying to pierce through. Its rock-hard arm bounced off the ice, but the cracks spreading through your shield told you it wouldn’t hold much longer.

"Get down!" one of the rangers shouted.

You didn’t hesitate. Instinctively, you ducked, grabbing the injured man beside you and pushing his head down with your hand. Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as gunfire erupted around you. The nearby rangers unloaded their pistols at the Fusion Warrior, bullets bouncing off its stony form like pebbles against a mountain.

It didn’t flinch.

A golden light began to seep from the monster’s body, a faint glow that quickly spread across its jagged surface. Your stomach dropped. You knew that light. This wasn’t just any Tacet Discord. This was a Phantom. Rare. More robust than most, with a resilience that bordered on invulnerability.

You didn’t have time to think. The Fusion Warrior locked onto you, its glowing form charging up for another attack. You watched in horror as it prepared to strike, so focused on you like a predator eyeing its prey. Your Glacio shield flickered, barely holding.

And then – it zipped forward.

The world seemed to slow as the Fusion Warrior’s rock-hard arm slammed into your Glacio shield one last time. There was a sharp crack, like ice snapping in a frozen river, and your shield shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. The shards evaporated in the air before they could even touch the ground.

Your breath caught in your throat. The Fusion Warrior braced itself, ready to strike again. There was no time to react, no time to form another shield. You were defenceless.

But before the monster could land its fatal blow, a broadblade, dark and deadly, pierced through its abdomen with brutal force.

You blinked, stunned. The Fusion Warrior froze in mid-attack, its body impaled by the blade. Slowly, it was lifted off the ground, suspended in the air by the sheer strength of the one who wielded the weapon.

It’s the general.

With a swift, ruthless motion, the general slammed the Fusion Warrior back down into the earth. The monster let out a low, echoing shriek before its form disappeared in an instant, enacting a loud ‘poof’ sound. In its place, the faint echo of its presence – the Reverberation – flickered unmovingly.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The danger was gone, just like that. The ranger you were shielding groaned, still in pain but alive. You firmly held him to your side as you began to head towards your spot, knowing he needed immediate attention.

Still, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at the man who had saved you. Geshu Lin moved with the calm precision of someone born for this kind of chaos. His broadblade gleamed, still carrying the eerie glow of the monster’s end. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow down. Just strode right back into the heart of the battle as if he hadn’t just saved your life in a single, devastating blow.

You tore your eyes away. Focus. There are more lives on the line. More wounded rangers need your help.

The injured ranger at your side groaned again, his weight sagging heavily against you. He was in bad shape, barely conscious, and his breathing laboured. You shifted your grip on him, pulling his arm tighter over your shoulder, and forced yourself to push through the exhaustion.

“You’re going to be fine,” you murmured to him, though it felt like you were saying that to yourself too. To convince yourself. Your body was screaming, your Glacio Resonance draining your energy with every passing second. The icy numbness creeping up your arms was spreading faster now, and your fingertips had long since lost feeling.

But you couldn’t stop.

You managed to get him back to your spot behind the boulder. You eased him down carefully, and your hands moved on instinct, channelling more Resonance you had left into healing him.

The ice crawled up your palms, biting at your wrists. You grit your teeth, suppressing a shiver. The cold was relentless, but so was the battle raging around you. It felt like it would never end.

An hour crawled by. Grueling. Endless.

Your hands trembled from the effort of healing, your body aching from the constant drain of Resonance. The numbness was spreading past your wrists now, ice biting deeper with each spell you cast. Still, you kept going. You had to. There was no other choice.

Then, a voice rang out over the battlefield – clear, commanding. It was the veteran strategist again.

“This will be the last army, everyone! Stay strong!”

The words echoed like a lifeline.

A chorus of cheers and battle cries rose from the Midnight Rangers, their spirits lifting despite the exhaustion etched into their faces. Even you, buried behind your boulder with your hands freezing solid, felt a spark of renewed energy.

The end was in sight.

You could do this. You could hold on. Just a little longer.

The ranger lying down behind the boulder with you stirred, his breathing steadier now. You glanced at him, relieved to see the colour returning to his face. He’d live. He might not walk right for a while, but he’d live.

Your eyes scanned the battlefield, catching sight of the new wave approaching. The last wave. It was bigger, more ferocious than any before, but something about knowing it was the final one made it bearable.

“Hang on, everyone,” you whispered to yourself.

As you prepared to brace for the oncoming horde, a blast of heat swept across the field, accompanied by a deep, rumbling roar. Your head snapped toward the source, and you spotted him once again. Geshu Lin.

He stood at the front lines, flames erupting from his Resonance Liberation, his broadblade ablaze with the fire of battle. His presence alone was like a beacon of power, a promise that this was the final stand.

But the Discords were relentless. You could see them closing in, their grotesque forms twisting and screeching as they rushed forward.

Your muscles tensed, cold sweat mixing with the icy numbness spreading through your limbs.

One more push.

And so, you pushed through, your focus narrowing to the wounded soldiers at your side. The biting iciness that had crawled up your arms was a distant, muted ache now. Your hands were nearly numb, but it didn’t matter. Not now. You just had to keep going.

The sounds of battle raged on in the distance – the clash of metal, the shrieks of Discords, the roar of flames. But you forced yourself to block it out. The rangers in front of you needed you more. Their bloodied bodies and their laboured breathing all demanded your attention. You couldn’t let them down.

Minutes dragged into what felt like hours. The cold was creeping into your bones, making every movement feel like a battle in itself. But you didn’t stop. Not until the last wound was sealed, the last breath stabilized.

Then, something changed.

The sounds of battle began to fade, bit by bit. The furious din of clashing steel and monstrous howls ebbed away, replaced by…silence. Almost eerie at first. But then, you heard it – the distant cheer of voices rising in unison.

You paused, blinking in disbelief. Is it over?

Looking up from the wounded ranger beneath your hands, your eyes scanned the battlefield. The Tacet Discords… they were gone. Annihilated. Where once their grotesque forms had filled the landscape, only the shimmering echoes of Reverberations remained. The Midnight Rangers were erupting in cheers. Some of them embraced, others patted each other on the back. The relief was palpable, like a wave of hope washing over the field.

We won. A tired grin tugged at your lips. We actually won this time.

The weight of exhaustion hit you all at once. Your half-frozen and tired hands threatened to fall to your sides. The battle had been brutal and relentless, but it was over – finally.

Then, the veteran strategist’s voice cut through the noise. “Everyone, let’s head back to base! Bring the wounded on stretchers so they can be treated properly. The rearguards off-site will come to retrieve the bodies.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, the tension leaving your body all at once. Slowly, you stood and began organizing the rangers under your care, helping them onto makeshift stretchers.

And as you watched the last of the injured being carried off toward safety, a quiet, weary sense of victory settled over you.

Fortunately, you survived another war.

That’s when you heard your name being called. You turned, catching sight of the rearguards in the same main troop with you rushing over. Their eyes flickered to your half-frozen arms; concern etched into their faces.

“Are you okay?” Liang Mei asked, her voice edged with worry.

You tried to wave it off, quite literally, lifting your arm into the air. But the action felt ridiculous. Your limb, encased in ice, barely moved, the frosty layer clinging stubbornly to your skin. You attempted a reassuring smile as you said, “I’m fine. A proper rest will thaw these out.”

Liang Mei raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. Beside her, Yin Lei shook his head. “Let’s get you to the base. The sooner we reach it, the sooner you can rest.”

Hua Jin stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “I’m worried about your hands. Is this... because of your Resonance? Too much usage?”

You nodded, still flexing your fingers, trying to regain some sensation. “Yeah. It’ll go away, as long as I don’t use my Resonance again for today.”

Liang Mei took a step toward you. “Can you walk? I can help.”

You smiled at her, appreciating the concern. “I can walk, thank you. Now, let’s go.”

With that, the group fell into step, letting you follow behind. Most of the Midnight Rangers had already begun the long trek back to the base. Some rushed, eager to leave the battlefield behind. Others moved more slowly, burdened by their injuries or simply drained of strength. The trail of soldiers stretched far ahead, a sombre line of survivors.

You fell into the rhythm of walking, your breath coming out in short, cold bursts. The icy numbness still crawled up your arms, but you clenched your hands into fists, trying to push it away. You could make it. You just needed to hold out a little longer.

As you trudged forward, lost in your thoughts, a sudden warmth radiated from beside you. A familiar broadblade engulfed in dark flames appeared near your side. Startled, you glanced over and saw him – the formidable general, Geshu Lin, walking next to you, his weapon still burning with the intense heat of his Resonance.

You faltered, coming to a stop as surprise and confusion flooded your mind. The rest of your group continued ahead, but you stood still, your gaze locked on the imposing figure beside you. Geshu Lin, too, halted, his broadblade still ablaze with those strange, dark flames.

You stared up at him, unable to read his expression. His towering frame cast a shadow over you, and his face remained as indifferent as ever – cold, detached, as though the chaos and destruction of the battle hadn’t fazed him at all. Even when he had obliterated the Tacet Discords earlier, and when he had saved you from the Fusion Warrior, his demeanour hadn’t changed.

For a short moment, neither of you spoke. You couldn’t understand what he was doing or why his broadblade was so close to you. But the warmth... it seeped into your frozen hands, offering a relief you hadn’t expected.

Then, in that low, commanding voice of his, Geshu Lin finally spoke. “Warm your hands with these.”

His words, though unexpected, held no room for argument. You hesitated only for a second before slowly extending your hands toward the fire. Once your frozen hands were raised over the flames, the warmth hugged around your fingers, melting the ice that had encased them. Relief flooded through you as the numbness faded.

You cast your gaze up to meet his, still unsure why he was offering this small kindness. The general didn’t strike you as the type to concern himself with others, least of all a medic like you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, unsure what else to say.

Geshu Lin didn’t respond. His expression remained unreadable, but he kept the broadblade steady, letting the warmth flow toward you as you absorbed the heat. The silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of unspoken words.

As you stood there, you felt the ice around your hands thawing at a steady pace. You flexed your fingers repeatedly, willing the warmth to spread faster. The general watched quietly, his grip on the broadblade steady, ensuring its flames remained just close enough to provide relief.

In no time, the last remnants of ice disappeared, and you pulled your hands away from the heat. Geshu Lin also withdrew his weapon, the dark flames flickering out and dissipating into the cool night air. He strapped the broadblade securely to his back, a seamless motion that spoke of years of practice.

That’s when your eyes fell on his left arm. You froze, your heart sinking at the sight of several long, open cuts marring his skin, each one a stark reminder of the battle. Scars crisscrossed over old wounds, a testament to the violence he had faced. You couldn’t help but gasp, your concern spilling out before you could rein it in. “General, you are hurt.”

“It is nothing,” he replied, his voice flat and dismissive.

“Sir, I can heal you,” you insisted, urgency creeping into your tone. “It’ll only take a moment.”

He turned to you, his expression as unreadable as ever. “I refuse.”

You blinked, taken aback by his stubbornness. “But-”

“Not every injury requires treatment,” he interrupted, his tone brokering no argument. “Focus on yourself. Your Resonance ability will be needed in the upcoming battle. We might go to war tomorrow again.”

You fell silent, contemplating his words. Maybe his stubbornness came from knowing you had pushed yourself too hard today. If you heal him, the biting ice will materialize again, and his effort to warm your hands will go to waste.

You flexed your fingers again, feeling the sensations return slowly. As your breath steadied, you looked up and caught the general’s gaze. He was watching you quietly. But when your eyes met, he turned his attention to the horizon, where some of the Midnight Rangers faded into the distance.

Without another word, he resumed walking, his broadblade resting casually on his back. You fell in step beside him, your legs moving almost on autopilot as you kept pace with him. The remaining soldiers of Midnight Rangers were behind you two, heading toward the base as well.

It felt strange. Surreal, even. Here you were, walking alongside the most formidable figure in the army. The general didn’t seem bothered at all by the fact that a typical medic was at his side. A twinge of discomfort crept in. Did he see you as an equal, or was he merely indifferent?

Fearing you might be annoying him, you instinctively stepped to the side, increasing the distance between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was to be an unwelcome distraction, especially to the man who had saved you.

As you and the general walked toward the base, the night seemed to grow quieter, the weight of the recent battle settling in. Every step felt heavy with unspoken thoughts, but neither of you broke the silence. It wasn’t long before a few veteran Rangers made their way toward Geshu Lin, falling into step beside him.

One of them, a tall, grizzled soldier, cleared his throat before speaking, “General, what are your orders for tomorrow? We’d like to prepare ahead of time.”

You watched them, walking a careful distance from your side. Geshu Lin didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the path ahead, his face as unreadable as ever. He seemed to be lost in thought, though whether about the question or something deeper, you couldn’t tell.

Then, his voice cut through the stillness. “We’ll rest tomorrow. Full rest.”

The soldiers around him exchanged surprised glances, clearly not expecting that response. Geshu Lin continued, his tone firm but calm. “Those who wish to return to Jinzhou will be granted leave. But station a troop at the reclaimed site. We can’t risk a Tacet Discord ambush.”

One of the veterans blinked in disbelief before responding, his voice filled with gratitude, “Understood, sir.”

The veterans intentionally slowed down their walking pace to let the general walk ahead. As you kept up to pace with the white-haired general, you processed the discussion. Rest? It wasn’t a word often heard in the general’s vocabulary. The soldiers had clearly been taken aback too, and you couldn’t blame them. Geshu Lin was known for pushing his forces – and himself – beyond the limits.

You glanced at Geshu Lin, his focus still trained straight ahead. His long white hair fluttered slightly in the wind, a striking contrast against the night. There was something you wanted to say – needed to say, really. He had saved you from the Phantom Fusion Warrior. You owed him more than just your thanks.

But the words stuck in your throat. You were shy, and for a very good reason.

The Midnight Rangers surrounded you, still marching back to base. Their presence made you hesitate. You knew they'd wonder why someone like you would dare speak to the general. Would they mock you for it later? Or worse – would Geshu Lin himself dismiss you?

Still, you couldn’t shake the growing need to express your gratitude. You owed him that much. Just say it, you urged yourself.

Minutes later, the base’s outline appeared on the horizon, its flickering lights casting shadows across the barren landscape. As you approached, the familiar clatter of soldiers preparing for rest or practice broke the quiet – metal against metal, boots on gravel, and the occasional sharp bark of commands.

One by one, the Midnight Rangers peeled away, disappearing into various corners of the base. You glanced around and realized the two of you were nearly alone. It was now or never. But before you could work up the courage, you noticed Geshu Lin was already looking at you.

His eyes locked with yours for a heartbeat. Then, without a word, he broke the gaze and veered off, taking a different path.

Something snapped inside you.

“Sir!” you called after him, the word escaping before you could second-guess it.

Geshu paused but didn’t turn around immediately. The silence stretched, making your heart race. You wondered if you had made a mistake, if you had crossed a line. But then, slowly, he turned his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder.

You took a breath. “I just… wanted to thank you. For saving me earlier. I don’t think I’d be here… if not for you.”

The words tumbled out faster than you intended, your nerves making your voice a little shakier than you’d hoped. For a moment, you felt the weight of your words hanging in the air between you, vulnerable and raw.

Geshu Lin’s expression remained unreadable. His sharp features held that same indifferent, almost cold look, eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. For a long, unbearable moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched, and you began to second-guess yourself, a knot of regret tightening in your chest.

Then, out of nowhere, he spoke with his voice low but clear, “From now on, you will no longer be stationed with the rearguard in upcoming battles.”

Your heart sank for a second, misinterpreting his words. Had he decided you were a liability? Were you being removed from the battlefield altogether?

But then he added, “You will maintain your position as a medic... in my main troop.”

You blinked, stunned. Your eyes widened in disbelief as the weight of his words hit you. Main troop? The general's own unit?

“I’ll inform the person in charge about your reassignment,” he continued without waiting for your response. His tone was matter-of-fact, as though he hadn’t just upended your entire world with a single sentence.

Before you could gather your thoughts, before you could process the implications of what he’d just said, Geshu Lin turned and resumed walking, his broadblade gleaming faintly in the dim light as he disappeared into the camp.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, the realization slowly sinking in. The main troop. His troop. It was an honor, one reserved for the most elite soldiers and specialists, those the general trusted with the most critical missions. And now, somehow, you were one of them.

Your hands trembled slightly – not from the cold, but from the sudden rush of adrenaline and disbelief. The steady life continued around you, oblivious to the monumental shift in your fate. It was hard to comprehend. One moment, you were thanking him, and the next, he had placed you in the heart of the battlefield, under his direct command.

Why? The question burned in your mind. Was it a test, or a show of faith? Or was this simply his way of repaying a debt for the lives you’d saved?

Worry gnawed at you, a sharp edge of fear creeping in. The front lines. It wasn’t just a promotion – it was a death sentence in disguise. The gruesome Tacet Discords, with their twisted forms and relentless attacks, would be your new reality. Every battle would place you face-to-face with them, and every moment would carry the risk of not coming back. Your life, fragile as it was, would be hanging by a thread.

You were scared. Terrified, even.

Your hands trembled again, this time from the weight of that realization. Could you handle it? Could you really survive in a world of constant danger, where hesitation could get you – or worse, your comrades – killed? Doubt clawed at your mind. For a moment, you wanted to march right back and beg Geshu Lin to reconsider.

But then, somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered.

You’ll be fine. Just like how he had saved you back then, he would save you again.

That thought somewhat calmed you down. Maybe, you will survive under his care.

Please leave a comment on what you think about this story/chapter. I really want to know your thoughts on this.

#geshu lin #geshu lin x reader #wuthering waves #wuwa #yandere geshu lin #yandere x reader #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves fanfic #wuwa fanfic #geshu lin x f!reader #geshu lin x female reader

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dark-romance-yan · 7 months ago

Text

Make Me Forget

Yandere Jiyan-First Time meeting since you broke up.

A/N; This is just a one-shot of Jiyan from Wuthering Waves as a yandere. I'm in a writing mood so plz send requests if you'd like. Info about requests n stuff are on the pinned post in my profile.

Warnings; It's basically just pure smut about half way into it, p in v intercourse, slight choking(?), dirty talk, coercion, afab reader, UNEDITED

Wordcount; 6,800+

You and Jiyan broke up about two years ago, well, you broke up with him. He wasn't willing to let you go, fought endlessly to convince you to stay with him, promised you that he would change his possessive and overly protective nature. But he never did, he couldn't, not with how dangerous the world is. You had to stay home where it was safe, stay within the city of Jinzhou, not to step a foot outside the walls. He'd always make the excuse that it's far too dangerous for you to leave despite your arguments of how you can take care of yourself. You just wanted to explore but he wouldn't let you. And it's not like he could go out with you very often due to how busy he is with his duties as General of the Midnight Rangers. So you made the decision to end the relationship with him, moved out of your shared home while he was out on a mission and left a sincere letter for him on his desk.

During the first couple of months, Jiyan pleaded for you to come back home to him, to be his again, but you refused. He'd write love letters to you whenever he had a moment to spare but you never wrote back, never gave him the time of day anymore. So he let you go, or at least that's what you thought when the letters stopped. Within the past two years, Jiyan had been keeping tabs on you, gaining information from a certain information broker he's acquainted with. Anyone you dated mysteriously disappeared or passed away.

At present, you're sitting on fallen log outside the city walls of Jinzhou gazing at nothing in particular as you try to cope with the deep pain of losing your boyfriend due to a tacet discord attack a week ago. You don't even know how it could have happened, the guards had cleared the area he was exploring but a tacet discord happened to appear out of thin air and killed him. It had to be a coincidence this was the third time this happened to someone you were dating, right?

For the past two years you've felt nothing but pain and loss, only having brief moments of happiness but it's all snatched away when someone close to you vanishes from your life suddenly. Is this karma for something you did in your past?

Before you could continue with your thoughts, there is a deep and low growl behind you. Slowly turning to look behind you, there is a wolf tacet discord behind you, growling as it charges to attack you. You close your eyes and raise your arms to brace yourself for the impact but it never comes. Instead you're greeted with a familiar voice that you haven't heard in so long. "Are you alright?" You peak out from behind your arms to see Jiyan rubbing his shoulder and the fading tacet discord behind him. Sighing, you drop your arms back to your sides, trying to not act amused to see him meanwhile inside your heart flutters in a way it hasn't in a long time. "Yeah, I'm fine." You mutter, tearing your gaze away from him. Truthfully, you're not fine. You were terrified that you were about to meet the same fate as your previous partners, and Jiyan seemed to notice your fear as your body trembles and your shaking hands clench into fists.

He reaches out his hand and gently places it on your shoulder, trying to comfort you while acting friendly as he sits beside you on the log. He is about to speak but you beat him to it in an effort to act strong, making him shut his mouth. "What are you doing here?" You ask in a harsher tone than you intended, but you couldn't control it with all the emotional turmoil you're in. Jiyan stares at you for a moment with a raised brow, surprised by the harsh and stand offish treatment with him. He should be the one treating you like that after you left him with no explanation and broke his heart. But he gave you grace, knowing exactly why you're upset, he's the cause of it after all. He clears his throat, moving his hand off your shoulder and you felt colder. "Well I was on my way to the city to rest for a of couple days before I leave for another mission until I heard the TD and someone in danger. I didn't realize it was you I was saving at first." He spoke, only telling mostly the truth, knowing fully well it was you. He could spot you from miles away, even sense your presence. "What are you doing here? I can see that something is haunting you, darl-...I mean, Y/n." He cleared his throat as he corrected himself to using your real name instead of the one he used during your relationship. Deep down you ached to hear him call you that again. "It's nothing...well, it's not nothing. It's just.." You struggle to find the words, fighting with yourself on whether to confide in him. But you didn't have anyone else to help you through your pain, the aching pain that never seemed to end.

You let out a shaky breath as you cross your arms over your chest as if hugging yourself. Then you feel the familiar warmth of his hand on your shoulder, his thumb gently caressing your skin. "I know I'm not the best person to open up to, being that I'm your ex and we didn't end on the best of terms but, Y/n, I'm always here for you and I want you to be happy. You can tell me anything." He reassures, you peer up at him for a few moments, your eyes searching his for any sign of deceit but even if there is one you wouldn't care at this point. Your eyes fill with tears that threaten to spill at any moment with just being given the chance to vent your feelings, quickly turning your gaze to stare down at your lap. Sniffling, you finally speak in a croaky voice, "My...My boyfriend died last week. I just can't believe he's gone." His heart aches as he hears the pain in your voice, all over a death of a boy who isn't even worthy of breathing the same air as you.

But he can't help but feel victorious, you're finally opening up to him, finally talking to him again. His plan that he's put so delicately together is finally unfolding and working in his favor. "Oh, Y/n..." He coos in a soothing tone as his thumb strokes your shoulder, a subtle gesture to comfort with a dark intent to assert himself back into your life. "That's tragic, how heartbreaking. I am so sorry for your loss." He adds as if he's not the one who indirectly caused your pain, waiting for a moment to gauge your reaction, only seeing you nod as you lean into his touch on your shoulder. He takes a chance to move closer, his leg subtly brushing against yours in an attempt to re-establish that intimate connection with you. "But just know, you have me to turn to. I'll always be here for you." Hearing the words you longed to hear from someone to help you cope from your pain, you struggle with your emotions.

Feeling overwhelmed by the mixture of emotions that have been building up within you, you turn and nuzzle your face into his chest as you finally let your tears slid down your cheeks, sobbing quietly. He wraps his arms around you gently, holding you close as he strokes your hair. He hopes you don't hear his heart racing against his chest, all of his own pain of the past two years melting away as he holds you in his arms again. His hand caress your back soothingly as he speaks in a soft, reassuring tone. "Shh, it's okay Y/n. I'm here for you." He wants to make it clear to you that he is the only stable person in your life, the only one who can comfort you, hold you, love you. He's finally re-establishing an emotional connection to you. "Let it out, darling. I've missed this so much." He holds you tightly, his grip comforting but firm as you sob into his chest. He hates to see you so upset but the relief of feeling you in his arms again over riding any of the heart wrenching emotions.

After a few long moments pass and your sobs come to a stop, he pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes, his own glistening with longing and concern. He lightly brushes a strand of hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. "I've changed, Y/n. I'm not the same guy who hurt you in the past. I want to prove that to you. Please, Y/n, let me take care of you now." He speaks with sincerity, but carry an underlying obsession, struggling to hide his obsession for you. You sniffle as you gaze up at him, his hands moving to gently cup you cheeks while his thumbs wipe away any remaining tears. "Jiyan..." You start in a weak voice, your heart aching for his love but it just didn't feel right. "I'm not ready for a relationship again, not after what just happened." You watch his reaction carefully, but he just gazes at you with loving, understanding eyes as he nods slowly. "Of course, Y/n. I don't expect anything from you, just consider my presence as a gesture of support." His hand finds yours, squeezing it gently as a sign of reassurance while his underlying intention is to reestablish their intimate connection. He has an insatiable desire to win you back, he's just waiting for the right moment as he's reentering your life under the guise of support.

He stands, offering his hand to help you stand up which you accept. "We should get back to the city before it gets dark, I'll take you back home. But only if you want me to." He speaks in a gentle tone, meanwhile there's a hidden meaning that implies you're his to take care of and protect. You give him a small sad smile, nodding as you place your hand in his and stand. "Sure, I don't really want to be here anymore." You reply as you let him lead the way back to the city. The walk back to the city is quiet, yet comfortable.

Once you enter the city again, the streetlights shine above the two of you as stars fill the night sky, reminding Jiyan of the many strolls you two shared when you were together. His hand brushes against yours, taking the opportunity to hold your hand in his gently, his thumb caressing over your knuckles. You can't stop the small smile that tugs at your lips, reminiscing their sweet and tender moments they've shared. "I've missed this. Just the two of us, together like this." Jiyan breaks the silence, his head tilting to look down at her with a loving smile. You almost smiled back as you gazed up at him, but hesitate as you remind yourself of the aching pain in your heart after losing your partner. "Jiyan.." You sigh his name, as if scolding him as you turn your gaze away from him, looking anywhere but him. "Please don't say things like that. Not now." You mutter as a mixture of emotions swirl through her chest while you pull your hand away from his.

He looks at you with a wounded expression, his hand hanging in the air for a moment before retreating back. "You're right, I apologize. I forgot myself for a moment there." He speaks with a contrite tone, a frustration starting to brew deep within him as you're still wasting your emotions on that pathetic boy. "It's just...being close to you again feels so natural. Like it hasn't even been two years, no time has passed." He downplays his obsession to gain your trust and love again. The two of you approach your front door to your home, Jiyan stays a couple steps behind you to give you space. You unlock your door but hesitate to step inside of your dark, quiet and lonely home. You turn to look at him with a small smile as you nod towards your open door, your mouth moving before you could even process what you were saying. "Do you want to come inside? I...I don't really want to be alone right now." He is ecstatic. You need him right now and even voiced it to him. He's finally breaking down your defenses by providing you with comfort and support.

"Of course, I'd never leave you alone again if that's what you wished." His tone is gentle and concerned, yet also carries an unspoken implication that he's the only one who can truly understand and support you. He watches your movements intently as you step inside and begin removing your jacket. He can't help but notice how your blouse clings to your curves, the fabric seeming to glow in the dim light of the entryway. His eyes linger on the swell of your breasts and the slender line of your waist, his throat constricting with desire. He shifts his gaze to admire your home, not wanting to be caught ogling you, but his cheeks are flushed. "Can I help with anything?" He's is concerned, but there's an undercurrent of hunger beneath the words. He wants nothing more than to worship your beautiful body, to remind you of all the pleasure he can provide. He imagines peeling that blouse off you slowly, revealing the familiar body underneath, too caught up in his own imagination to notice you disappear into the kitchen.

Finally, he notices you again when you hold up a wine bottle as you pear out from the corner of the kitchen. "You can help me finish this bottle of wine." You speak up with a dull cheerful tone, coming off as more awkward and shy. His eyes light up as you offer him the wine, a smile spreading across his face. He takes the bottle from you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he does. The subtle contact sends a jolt of electricity through you. "I'd love to join you in a glass... or two." His tone is playful, but underneath lies a hunger to be closer to you, to recapture the intimacy you once shared. He pours two glasses, handing one to you as he leans against the counter across from you. His thigh accidentally brushes against yours as he does, and he makes no move to pull away, savoring the contact. "So tell me, how have you been? Really been? I know it's been tough losing... him." He says the name carefully, not wanting to upset you, but also subtly asserting that he's the one who truly understands your pain.

You take a sip of your wine, a sharp pain in you heart as he mentions your recently deceased boyfriend. You exhale, staring down at the red liquid in your glass. "Honestly, I don't know how I feel. Sometimes, it hurts to even breathe, and other times, I...I just don't feel anything." You answer, your voice cracking. You stay silent for a moment before tilting your head back slightly as you drink the rest of the wine in your glass, attempting to drown the pain. "But I don't really want to talk about that right now...Um, how have you been? How's work?" You ask as you fill your glass again with more wine, momentarily glancing at him with a half smile. Feeling a wave a heat, you pull your hair out of it's ponytail. He watches as you let your hair down, the sudden movement releasing a cascade of hair that frame your face perfectly. His heart races at the sight, remembering all the times he used to run his fingers through your hair, the way the soft strands would fall against your skin. He feels an intense urge to do the same now, to recapture that intimacy, that control over your beauty. "Work has been...steady. Nothing exciting to report." He replies, barely paying attention to his own life at the moment. His focus is entirely on you, on rekindling the connection you two once had. "But enough about me. You look lovely with your hair down, Y/n." He says sincerely, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. He notices the way the wine has slightly flushed your cheeks, making your skin glow, and he imagines all the other intoxicating ways he could make you lose yourself in pleasure. "Perhaps I can help you forget about your pain, just for a little while. If you'll let me." His voice is a low, husky purr, filled with longing and a subtle undercurrent of possessiveness.

You stare at him with an intense gaze, your eyes trailing over his fit figure with a growing desire from his suggestion. But you snap yourself out of your daze, forcing yourself to look away as you shake your head. "Jiyan, we both know where that will lead..." You mumble, even though you wanted to forget your pain, to lose yourself in him like you did all those years ago, but it didn't feel right. "I'm not really ready for that right now." You add, staring down at the wine as you take another sip. He feels a sting from your rejection, but quickly pushes it aside. He's not going to let a little thing like resistance stand in his way. "Darling..." He says softly, gently taking your chin in his hand. His thumb strokes your jawline, a feather-light caress meant to comfort, yet also subtly assert his dominance. "You don't have to make any decisions now. Just let me hold you. Let me take care of you." His tone is a soothing balm, promising safety and intimacy, but also carrying an underlying current of insistence. He wants to hold you, to have his body pressed against yours, to feel your warmth and scent and know that you're his again. "I know it's been tough...but you don't have to face it alone. I'm here for you." He says the words you've been aching to hear from someone for so long. You confuse comfort with desire, your eyes staring up to his with uncertainty. "I don't know..." You whisper, your gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips, your own wine stained lips parting. His free hand gently guides your hand to lower the glass onto the counter as he sees the moment of weakness, the way your lips part ever so slightly as you struggle with yourself. He knows he has you right where he wants you. "Shhh...it's okay, my love." His tone is soft, soothing as he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Let me hold you. Let me take care of you. Just for tonight." His words are a gentle persuasion, an insistence that's hard to resist when you're in this vulnerable state. He's offering you comfort and affection, but also a chance to belong to him again, to let him have control over you and your well-being. "Please, Y/n. I need to hold you." He whispers the plea, his breath hot against your skin. He's not giving you a choice, not really, not when you've stepped into his delicately laid trap so willingly.

Your hands lightly grip his shirt as you feels his hot breath against your skin while your breathing turns uneven, your tipsy state working against you to make you more desperate. "Just for tonight." You repeat his words in a whisper. His grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He knows he's got you, that your pain and sorrow are making you desperate for any distraction, any source of pleasure. And he's more than happy to provide it, to reclaim ownership over your body and desires. "Just for tonight..." He echoes softly, his lips still brushing against your ear. He slowly lowers his head, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck. He kisses you softly, gently, but with a subtle possessiveness, as if staking claim to you once again. "I've missed this...missed you. Please, let me make you feel good again. Let me show you how much I care." His words are a seductive promise, a guarantee of pleasure and intimacy if only you'll submit to him again. His lips trail lower, teasing the top of your blouse as he breathes hot against your skin. “I can make all the pain go away, Y/n. Just let me in." He whispers the temptation, his hand sliding down to grab your hips and pull you against him, your soft curves molding to his fit frame, a faint familiarity both of you desired to reignite.

Without saying another word, you move one of your hands up to cup his cheek, pulling his head up to meet yours, your eyes meeting for a split second before closing as you close the gap between your lips. He returns the kiss with a hunger that's been building for months, no, years. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you, reminding you of all the times he's tasted you before. He feasts on your mouth, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, the damp heat of your breath. His hands roam over your body, grasping and kneading the soft flesh, reacquainting himself with every curve and dip. Your hand presses to the back of his neck, slowly sliding up to tangle your fingers in his long blue hair while your other hand lightly grips the fabric of his shirt over his chest. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrates against your lips, a primal claim of possession. "Mine..." He mouths the word against your lips, his eyes dark with desire and obsession, a promise of all the ways he'll reclaim you tonight. "Every inch of you belongs to me."

You freeze momentarily, blood running cold as his words remind you of the reason you broke up with him in the first place. You let out a shaky breath, slowly pulling back from the kiss as you hesitate and he sees it, the glimmer of doubt in your eyes as you remember the reasons you left him. His fingers tighten in your hair, his grip just short of painful. He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "I know I fucked up before, Y/n. But I'm different now. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy." His words are a honey-coated lie, a promise meant to soothe and reassure. "I just want to make you feel good again. Want to be the only one to touch you, to pleasure you. I'll show you how much I care..." His voice drops to a whisper, the words dripping with sensual promise. His hands slide lower, grasping at your ass, pulling you against him once more. He's going to remind you of all the ways he can pleasure you, of how he's the only one who truly understands your body and its needs. "Please, darling...let me make you feel good...You know I'll take good care of you. That I'll make you feel better than you have in months. Maybe years." His words are a seductive promise, a lure meant to entice you into surrendering to your desires, into submitting to him again and its working. His hand slides up your back, his fingers finding the nape of your neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin as your eyes stare into his while you battle with yourself.

But the way golden his eyes stare into yours with longing and temptation, you could no longer find the strength in yourself to deny him. "Jiyan, please make me forget the past two years." You whisper. The corners of his lips curl into smile, you've finally surrendered yourself into him again. His grip on your neck tightens, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin in a possessive caress. He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Anything for you, Y/n. Tonight, you forget about everything...and remember how good we are together." His voice is a husky purr, filled with promise and intent. His hands slide down your body, grasping at your waist as he pulls you against him. He's going to make you forget about any other pathetic man or woman that ever dared to call themselves your partner since he's been yours. "No more thinking, Y/n. Only feeling.” You only nodded to his words, your eyes closing as you focused solely on feeling his hands caressing over your body. His hands slide up your body, grasping at your breasts, his fingers teasing the sensitive nipples through the fabric of your blouse. "Do you remember how I used to touch you, Y/n? How I could make you scream my name?" His voice is a husky whisper, filled with dark memories and twisted desire. A shaky breath entwined with a moan slips past your lips, as you gaze up at him with a half lidded eyes while you whisper, "Yes, but you should remind me." Your words were like a subtle beg for him, a dark smile spreading across his face, your desperation and surrender clear in the force of your words.

"Anything for you, Y/n. Anything you need, I'll provide." His voice is a seductive promise, a vow meant to soothe and reassure. But beneath the smooth words lies a twisted intent, a promise that he'll take what he wants, no matter how you might later regret it. "I'll make you feel so good, baby. Gonna fuck you 'til you forget your own name." He growls the words, a feral promise that speaks to the obsessions burning in his veins. "Gonna show you what you've been missing. What you need." His hands slide down your body, grasping at the hem of your skirt. With a rough tug, he sends the fabric flying, exposing your bare legs and panties to his hungry gaze. "No more clothes, Y/n. I want to see all of you.”

You pull at your own blouse, tugging it off quickly not caring if it ripped at the seems. You tug at his shirt, a silent plea for him to take it off so you can see his body again, to see if anything has changed about him. "Yes, please make me forget about it all. I only want to feel you." You whisper in desperation, leading him to your bedroom, now standing in front of your bed with him while your hands still tug insistently at his shirt. He feels your desperation, sees the plea in your eyes. His hands move to his shirt, pulling it off over his head in one swift motion. His body is a canvas of lean muscle, his skin tanned and smooth. But for the scars, they've grown in a noticeable number and they'd seemed fairly recent with the pink hue to them. You wouldn't know the violence that simmers beneath his surface but he has grown reckless and aggressive in his battles since you left him. "I'll make you forget, Y/n. I'll make you remember only the pleasure I can provide." He takes your hand, pulling you down onto the bed with him. His body covers yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He's claiming you, reclaiming you, making you remember the power he holds over you. "No more thinking, Y/n. Only feeling." He repeats softly as his lips crash against yours, hungry and demanding. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you, reminding you of all the times he's tasted you before. He feasts on your lips, drinking in the sweetness of your mouth, the damp heat of your breath. "I've broken you into pieces, my love. And now I'm going to put you back together again...my way.” He confesses against your lips but you don't even seem to comprehend a word that comes out of his mouth as your tongue glides across his in a dance of desperation from both partners. Your hands slide up and down his chest, massaging and feeling his toned abdomen to reacquaint yourself with it, noticing the slight changes that occurred during the years you've been apart.

He feels your tongue, tastes the sweetness of your mouth, the desperate heat of your breath. His hands roam your body, grasping and kneading the soft flesh, reacquainting himself with every curve and dip. He pulls away from the kiss, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "You've missed this, haven't you Y/n? Missed my touch?" His voice is a seductive purr but beneath the smooth words lies a subtle edge, a hint of possessiveness and control. "I've missed you too, darling. More than you know." His hands slide lower, grasping at your thighs, pushing your skirt up around your hips. His fingers dance along the lace of your panties, teasing the sensitive fabric. "Let me show you how much I've missed you. Let me remind you of all the ways I can pleasure you.” You let out shaky breaths as he pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you look up at him with a flustered look. "Yes, I've missed you, so much. Should've never broken up.." You lift your hips up off the bed slightly to help him slide off your panties. He tosses the damp cloth aside, his gaze devouring the sight of your naked sex. "You haven't regretted it, Y/n. Not really." His voice is a silky snake, smooth and inviting, yet coiled with danger and intent. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "But don't worry, baby. I'll make you forget all about your regrets. I'll remind you of why you loved me in the first place." His hand spreads you open, exposing your wet, eager flesh to his hungry gaze. His finger circles your clit, teasing the sensitive bud. "I'll show you how much I've missed you. How much I love you." He dips his finger deeper, swirling the tip of his finger in your slick folds, gathering your arousal. You let out a whiny moan, sending him an impatient glare that looked more desperate by the second. "Damn it, Jiyan...please stop teasing me already." You speaks in a whinier voice than intended, your legs spreading a little wider, desperate to be utterly suffocated by pleasure.

He sees your desperation, hears the plea in your voice. "Oh, I'm going to tease you, Y/n. I'm going to torture you with pleasure until you can't think straight." His finger continues its wicked dance, circling and teasing, dipping and swirling. He's stoking the flames of your desire, building you up only to deny you release. "I'm going to make you beg, baby. Beg for my cock, for me to fill you up." He leans down to brush his lips against yours with every word he spoke. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only be able to accept the pleasure I give you." You couldn't think straight anymore, only focusing on the way his fingers continue to tease your pussy. You're nothing but a whiny and moaning mess, your cheeks pink and eyes half lidded as your gaze flicks from his hand between your legs to his face repeatedly. "Oh fuck...please, Jiyan. Please I need you inside me." You whine softly, his teasing driving you crazy. He sees your desperation, hears the plea in your voice, you could even feel his lips curl into a wicked smile. "Not yet, Y/n. I'm not done playing with you yet." His fingers continues its wicked dance, circling and teasing, dipping and swirling. "You need to beg for it, baby. Beg me to fuck you." He whispers against your lips "Tell me how badly you need my cock. How much you crave it." He slides two of his fingers inside you but just barley, moving the digits in a scissoring motion to prepare you.

Any walls you once had up for him broke down as he kept teasing you, building up your arousal but never giving you release. "Jiyan...fuck...please fuck me. Please fill me up with your cock." You beg, your eyes staring into his with a pathetic desperate look on your face. "Please stretch me and fill me, no one has ever compared to you. I miss your cock so much." You plead in a whiny tone, any shame you once had is gone. He sees your desperation, hears the pathetic plea in your voice. A dark smile spreads across his face. "Oh, my love...you want my cock so badly, don't you?" His fingers pause their movements momentarily, his hand pulling back from you and you think that he's finally giving you what you desire. "I can give you that, Y/n. I can fill you up with my big, hard cock." He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "But you have to promise me one thing..." His hand slides up your body only to wrap around your throat. His grip is firm, possessive, a threat underlying the words. "You have to promise me that you'll never leave me again. That you'll be mine, completely, forever." His other hand fists in your hair, forcing your eyes to meet his. He's demanding your surrender, your complete and utter submission. "Do that, and I'll give you the pleasure you crave. I'll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk straight for a week."

Your eyes widened, your heart beating faster as your eyes met his during the intense moment. Even with the slight fear, you didn't hesitate to answer, his suffocating warmth better than your cold painful life. "Yes, I..I promise. I'll never leave you again, I'll be yours. Forever." You promised, a shaky breath following your words. A chill runs down his spine and his heart beats faster as he hears the words of promise that he set out to hear the moment you left him. "Good girl, Y/n. You won't regret this." His hand loosens around your throat, sliding down to lace with your fingers. He brings your joined hands to his lips, kissing them soundly as his eyes gaze into yours. "Now, are you ready for me, my love?" His other hand reaches over to grab his pants, pulling out his massive erection. It's thick and long, pulsing with need. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby. Gonna make you scream my name." He positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock notching against your slick entrance, eliciting a gasp from you. The feeling is familiar, something you thought about often late at night whenever any of your latest boyfriends couldn't please you. Your hands grip his shoulders, preparing for what's to come, your pussy wet and welcoming his cock. "Oh...yes, Jiyan." You mutter softly, your gaze focusing on the space between their bodies and the way his hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he begins to push inside. "That's it, baby. Take my cock. Let me fill you up." He throbs inside you, his thickness stretching you in all the right ways. He's claiming you, reclaiming you. "You're so tight, Y/n. So wet and slick for me." He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "I'm going to fuck you good, baby. Gonna make you forget about everything, everyone else." He begins to thrust, pulling almost entirely out of your pussy before slamming back inside, making you nearly choke on a gasp from the impactful feeling and squeak out a high pitched moan. . But you throw your head back, back arching and nails dig into his shoulders. "Oh fuck, Jiyan...oh yes." You moan out, your pussy clenching around his cock as he stretches your soft walls.

"That's it, baby. Moan for me. Let me hear how much you love my cock." He thrusts inside you, brutal and possessive. "You're mine, Y/n. Completely. Forever." His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you hard and fast. His cock throbs, a demand for your total surrender. "Give in to me, baby. Give up everything else for me. I'm the only one who matters now." His words are a seductive promise, a lure meant to draw you deeper into his web of desire. Your nails dig into his back creating a long line of scratch marks to his shoulders, a hiss escaping his lips from the slight pain. Your eyes squeeze shut from all the pleasure, your lips staying parted as your moans seem endless, if it wasn't clear you've surrendered to him, it is now. "Gonna make you mine in every way, Y/n. Gonna ruin you for anyone else." His hands leave your hips, sliding up your body to wrap around your throat and grip your hair. He forces your eyes to meet his, demanding your complete focus. "Look at me, Y/n. Tell me you're mine." He squeezes your throat gently, just enough to remind you of his strength and control. Your breath hitches, your eyes focusing back up onto his face again, his eyes boring into yours. The feeling of being so controlled by him only intensified your pleasure. "I'm yours." You answer quickly in a desperate tone, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel close.

He feels your submission, sees the desire in your eyes. "Good girl, Y/n. You're so close, aren't you? So close to coming apart for me." He continues to fuck you with fasts thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars that no one else could reach. "Let it happen, baby. Let yourself go. I want to feel you shake and scream for me." His hand tightens around your throat slightly, just enough to add pressure and intensity to your building orgasm. "Cum for me, Y/n. Cum hard. Cum all over my cock.” Your nails dig deeper into the skin of his back, leaving deep red marks as you moan out his name, your pussy fluttering and squeezing around his cock as you came. He feels your orgasm, sees the ecstasy on your face and he his lips curl into a slight smile. "That's it, baby. Cum for me. I love watching you fall apart." He continues to thrust inside you, his cock throbbing with each motion. He's savoring your pleasure, prolonging your ecstasy. "You're so beautiful when you cum for me, Y/n. So fucking beautiful." He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to fuck you through another one, baby. Gonna make you forget your own name." His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of your spent pussy.

Your lips part with a whiny moan as he continues to thrust into you, not letting you have a moment to breathe after your orgasm. "Oh fuck...Jiyan, I cant.." You whine out softly as your eyes squeeze shut, your body twitching from the overstimulation but he doesn't stop. One of his hands lift off your hips and grabs one of your hands, intertwining your fingers while he tilts his head to press sweet little kisses down your neck. "Yes, you can, my love. You can take so much more." He speaks so softly while he thrusts his cock faster into your pussy, groaning as you squeeze around him. "You're so fucking tight, Y/n. So wet and slick for me." His hand slides down, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs the sensitive nub in circular motions and in time with his thrusts. "Cum for me again, darling." He whispers softly and as your body writhes in pleasure beneath him. He grunts, feeling the familiar squeeze and pulse of your pussy as you came, his eyes lighting up with such intense love and desire, so pleased to finally have you a mess in his arms once again. And he finally comes undone soon after you, tucking his head in the crook of your neck as he bites down on your soft skin to muffle his moan as he came deep inside of you. Both of you lay still like that for a few moments, panting lightly to catch your breath.

He seems to recover quicker than you, slowly pulling out his cock, making you shiver from the feeling of being so empty again. You thought he was done, opening your eyes to gaze up at him with a sweet smile but that quickly fades as you notice he's grabbing your legs, lifting them up onto his shoulders and he aligns himself with your entrance. He grins down at you, chuckling softly. "You didn't think we were done, did you? Oh, my sweet darling, we have two years to make up for."

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gifimay · 16 days ago

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16+ only

NSWF brant idea's/headcannon's

feel free to use these(and I actively encourage u to do so fanfic writers)

fem reader but can be imagined as male reader

tying up brant and pleasuring yourself in front of him or sucking his dick until he finally snaps, breaks through the ropes and either eats you out mercilessly or goes to pound town until you can't walk. (I slightly stole this idea from marzia98 on Ao3 from there fic Tides of Desire)

Being insecure so brant decides to tie you up with gold ropes he found on his adventures, through you on his piles of treasure as if your one of them, and then fuck you in front of a mirror. either not letting you cum(or not letting you stop cumming) until you admit just how perfect and beautiful you are.

my man brant would be so into roleplay, whats that? you've always wanted to be a princess? well guess what he's the pirate who kidnapped you, with the obvious goal of 'deflowering' you. Mermaid roleplay, siren roleplay, officer-criminal roleplay. all of it.

slight Exhibitionism kink(like only if he truly knows no one will find you guys, especially children) just the thought of it, not actually wanting it to happen.

shibari? likes it on you but will let you harness up his chest.

speaking of chest, can and will get revenge on you for always ogling and touching his. you'll definitely get your chest massaged and tortured as revenge.

despite all of this, I know damn well brant will always ask for consent, has a safe word, and will stop when you need him too. My man is a woman respecter.

and thats all i have.

authors note:sorry if this is badly written, I never really ever write smut even slightly so I don't have experience making that kind of content but these ideas sneak up on you so i had to make this.

#wuwa #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves x y/n #wuthering waves brant #brant wuwa #wuwa brant #brant #brant x reader #brant x you #brant x y/n #yandere #smut #wuthering waves smut #brant smut

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venusinthesun · 12 days ago

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Sanhua watches you from afar more often then you think.

You’re vaguely aware of her presence, how she watches you from the top of buildings and stalks you from afar. You never see her, but you just know she is there, watching over you.

What you don’t know is that it’s much more than you think. She lets you feel her nearby, lets you know she’s there when she wants too. She works a lot, so when the hairs on the back of your neck don’t stand up, you assume she is at work. And she likes it that way, it lets her see a more natural you.

Her eyes don’t work like everybody else’s, but in her opinion it only makes you more beautiful. Your frequency isn’t pure like Jinshi, but it’s gorgeous in its own way. Sometimes when you sleep, she allows herself to slip into your room, just to get a closer look. You never know about that of course, just like you don’t know about how often she follows you to work or to different shops.

One day you actually catch eyes with her, staring at her ontop of the building with terror. You didn’t even feel her at all that time, and maybe it finally clicks that she lets you feel her presence when she wants you too.

I don’t really expect this to do well, because my audience is mostly Genshin/obey me players and generally Genshin players hate wuwa players. But I love both games (and my wifes in both games). I just started wuwa too and I’ve decided Sanhua is the best character no notes 10/10

#yandere wuthering waves #wuthering waves #sanhua wuthering waves #yandere lesbian #yandere #cw yandere #yancore #yandere woman #yandere sanhua #this game is too new to have yandere lesbian stuff yet #I will fix that #starting with my frosty stalker wife #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #wuwa x you #wuwa sanhua #yandere wuwa

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fangdokja · 2 months ago

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You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Older Brother x Fem. Reader

♡ Novelette. Sins of the Silent Heart - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 6,926

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, incest, unhealthy power dynamics, toxic relationship, spanking and slapping, emotional and psychological manipulation, social isolation, non-con kissing, physical assault and abuse

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

The dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp painted long, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting the once-familiar room into a grotesque parody of safety. His room—a chaotic vortex of textbooks, rumpled sheets, and the faint scent of stale cologne—now felt like a predator’s den, with you caught squarely in its jaws. The door clicked shut behind you with an almost mocking finality, the latch’s soft groan a promise of no escape.

He stood near the bed, his back to you, shoulders tense as if bracing for an internal war. His silhouette was a study in contradiction—strong, protective lines now cast in a menacing, foreboding light. The distant hum of the world beyond the house seemed to mock the thick silence between you, punctuated only by the rasp of his uneven breathing.

“Why are you here?” His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, low and clipped, every syllable weighted with restraint.

“I… I just wanted to talk.” Your words wavered, the carefully rehearsed lines evaporating under his icy stare when he turned, his eyes locking onto yours.

Those eyes, once a sanctuary of warmth during countless childhood nights, now held a glacial fury, as if he blamed you for some unseen torment. But beneath the chill was something darker, something that churned like a black hole, swallowing reason and morality whole. You couldn’t name it, but you could feel it—a suffocating, primal pull that made your stomach twist and your legs stiffen.

“I’ve been busy,” he said curtly, turning back to his desk, dismissing you as easily as one might swat away an insect. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.” The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, a desperate attempt to breach the widening chasm between you. “I thought—now that we’re both here—maybe we could…” Your voice faltered as he turned again, this time slowly, deliberately, like a predator circling prey.

“Miss me?” he repeated, his lips curving into a bitter smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

The accusation hit harder than you expected, making your chest tighten. “That’s why I’m here,” you murmured, your hands clenching at your sides. “To know you again.”

He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Know me?” His gaze raked over you, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. “You wouldn’t want that. Trust me.”

His words were a warning, but they only fueled your resolve. You stepped closer, driven by the memory of the brother who once held your hand during thunderstorms, who stayed up late helping you with your homework, who always told you everything would be okay. “You’re still my brother,” you said softly, pleadingly.

“Don’t,” he growled, his voice suddenly sharp, his hand twitching as if to reach for you but stopping short. “Don’t call me that.”

The air between you grew oppressive, thick with unspoken truths. Your heart pounded as his gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide as they drank you in. For a moment, his mask of indifference cracked, and what lay beneath made your stomach churn.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was low, almost gentle, but it carried the weight of a confession. “The way you look at me? The way you follow me around like a lost kitten?” He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed into the wall, your breath hitching. “You’ve always needed me. Always depended on me. And now you think you can waltz in here and what? Fix everything? Fix me?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Shut up.” His voice cut through your protest like a whip. He was close now, too close, his breath hot against your cheek. The smell of him—faintly metallic, tinged with sweat—wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. “You don’t know the first thing about me, about what I’ve done. About the things I think about when I look at you.”

The room seemed to tilt, the floor buckling under the weight of his words. “I… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he sneered, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall beside your head, caging you in. “Because you’re pure. Untouched. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this...this sickness. To want something you can never fucking have.”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the frantic pounding of your heart. His confession hung in the air like a noose, tightening around your throat.

“I tried,” he continued, his voice shaking now, the cracks in his facade spreading. “I tried to stay away. To forget. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked trying to scrub you out of my head? But it doesn’t work. It never fucking works.” His hand slid down the wall, his knuckles brushing against your shoulder. “You’re in here,” he said, tapping his temple, then his chest. “In here. Like a damn parasite.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Why are you saying this?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why now?”

“Because you’re here,” he said simply, his lips curling into a twisted smile. “Because you walked into my fucking room and looked at me like that. Like I’m still the hero you remember. Like I haven’t been corrupted.”

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he replied, his tone soft but laced with menace. “You should be scared. Because if you stay, I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room charged with a tension so thick it was suffocating. Then, with a suddenness that made you flinch, he stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “Get out,” he growled, his voice rough and uneven. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands fumbled with the doorknob, your legs barely supporting you as you stumbled out of the room. As the door slammed shut behind you, the last thing you heard was the sound of his ragged breathing, a haunting symphony of longing and despair.

────────────

It began in your first year of university, with a joke. A harmless, stupid, throwaway line.

"Hey, your sister's cute. Maybe I'll ask her out when she’s older."

You hadn’t been there to hear it. Maybe that was for the best. He’d laughed then, a sound so casual it might have fooled anyone listening. “Don’t even think about it,” he’d said, shoving his friend’s shoulder as if it were all a joke. But deep down, something had snapped into place.

It wasn’t anger, exactly—not yet. Just a quiet, simmering unease that he didn’t understand.

You were always close to him, always lingering just at the edge of his vision, a constant part of his life. He was your older brother; it was natural. He was protective—maybe a little too much so. But wasn’t that what older brothers were supposed to be? That’s what he told himself whenever he felt the strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

It only became a problem the day he saw you with someone else.

It was late autumn, and the world was painted in muted tones of orange and gray. He’d been walking to the library to pick you up when he saw you standing beneath a streetlamp with a boy.

The sight froze him in place.

You were holding a notebook, pointing to something on the page, explaining something with that calm, patient expression you always wore. The boy leaned in, his eyes never leaving your face.

And that was when he felt it. That sick, twisting feeling in his gut. The way the boy looked at you—like he wanted something. Like he thought he deserved something.

His hands clenched into fists, the sharp bite of his nails grounding him just enough to keep him from storming over. He didn’t know what he’d say if he did. What excuse could he possibly give?

Instead, he stayed hidden in the shadows, watching as you finished your tutoring session. The boy lingered too long, said something that made you smile faintly, and then finally walked away.

You didn’t even notice him standing there. You just closed your notebook, adjusted the strap of your bag, and walked off as if nothing had happened.

He followed you home that day, keeping a careful distance.

After that, it was as though something inside him had cracked open.

He told himself it was normal to be worried. You were too trusting, too naive. You didn’t see the way people looked at you. You didn’t realize how vulnerable you were. Someone had to protect you—someone who knew you better than anyone else.

But it wasn’t just about protection anymore.

It was about possession.

He tried to ignore it at first. Tried to tell himself it was nothing. But every time he saw you leave to meet that boy, his anger simmered just a little hotter. It didn’t matter that you were only tutoring him. It didn’t matter that you weren’t interested. He could see the way the boy looked at you, the way he lingered when you weren’t paying attention.

He started watching you more closely after that. You didn’t notice—of course, you didn’t. You never seemed to notice anything when it came to him.

When you weren’t around, he buried himself in distractions. He went out with his friends, dated girls who were nothing like you, did anything he could to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Every laugh, every touch, every kiss felt wrong. None of them were you.

By the time you started your second year of university, and him at his Master's, he’d perfected the art of keeping his distance. He didn’t want you to see the way he looked at you, didn’t want you to know the things he thought about late at night when he was alone.

But keeping his distance didn’t mean he stopped watching. He always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.

You were his. Even if you didn’t know it.

Another day, he caught you talking to someone else. Another boy. It didn’t matter that the conversation was casual, that you barely even smiled. All he could think about was how easily someone else could take you away from him.

When you came home that evening, he didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask why he was so quiet, why he avoided your gaze, why his knuckles were red and raw as if he’d been punching something—or someone.

You never asked questions like that.

Maybe you should have.

Now, standing in his room, he runs his hands through his hair, staring at the picture of you on his desk. It’s an innocent photo, one taken years ago during a family trip. But to him, it’s more than that.

It’s proof. Proof that you belong to him. Proof that no one else has the right to take you away.

He knows he can’t keep this up forever. He knows the truth will come out eventually.

But when it does?

You won’t have a choice.

────────────

It began with distance. He thought it would fix things—make him normal again, make you normal again. He pulled back, growing cold and indifferent, watching you from a distance as you stumbled through life. You didn’t even notice, did you? How he deliberately stopped answering your questions with warmth, how he only gave you clipped, efficient replies. How he didn’t teach you the things he should have, the things that would have made you stronger.

You didn’t need friends. He made sure of that.

He liked it that way—your awkwardness, your inability to connect with others. It kept you safe. It kept you his.

But then...

Then, he saw the change.

You became distracted, eyes far away, your lips twitching into little half-smiles when you thought no one was looking. At first, he ignored it. Told himself it didn’t matter. But then he started noticing the way you doodled during your free time, how your handwriting softened, curling into childish hearts.

And then the name.

Daniel.

The rage that erupted in his chest was immediate, primal. He wasn’t proud of how quickly he found your diary, how thoroughly he read every naïve, saccharine line.

"Daniel held my book today! He smiled at me, I think! Maybe I’ll ask him to the dance? Would he say yes? It’s stupid, but I think we’d make a great match."

You wrote about your future. About marriage. Little plans you hid in the margins of your notebook like some ridiculous fairytale.

Marriage, when you didn’t even know what it meant. When you’d never spared him, the one who’s protected you your entire life, that warm, shy smile.

He could’ve broken your door when he threw it open that night. You weren’t even there to hear the sound splinter through the silence, or see the way he stood there, shaking, fists clenched white-knuckled. He tore through your things after that—pictures, scraps of paper, clothes—he wanted to find anything, anything that might explain why you’d betrayed him like this.

You didn’t have the right to want someone else. You barely knew what you wanted! That boy didn’t even like you. Couldn’t you see it?

The world saw you as the awkward, strange little thing you’d always been. And he liked it that way. It kept the wolves at bay. He kept the wolves at bay.

But this boy? This Daniel? He didn’t even look at you the way you thought he did. He didn’t deserve your thoughts, your shy little fantasies. He deserved nothing.

When you finally confessed to the boy, he was there.

He’d hidden in the shadows like a predator waiting for the right moment. Watching as you stood there, clutching that stupid notebook to your chest, stammering over your words.

Daniel’s rejection was inevitable. His awkward laugh, his half-hearted apology—it was all so predictably pathetic. But you didn’t stop there.

Even after being turned down, you followed him. Like a kitten, tail wagging, desperate for scraps of affection. The same way you used to follow him.

That night, he didn’t go home. He didn’t sleep.

His body ached, torn between the raw heat of his anger and the cold clarity of his realization.

You’d never shown interest in romance before. Never spared anyone those soft looks, those quiet smiles. Not until now. And the thought of you giving that warmth—his warmth—to someone else?

He didn’t just want to destroy Daniel.

He wanted to destroy you.

You traitorous, ungrateful little bitch.

The next time he saw you, you didn’t notice anything was wrong. How could you?

“Hey,” you’d said softly, the same way you always did when you weren’t sure if you were bothering him. He didn’t reply.

Instead, he crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps. You flinched when he cupped your face, his fingers rough against your skin.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice was calm, too calm, each word slicing through the silence like a blade.

You blinked up at him, confused, your lips parting to stammer out a reply. But he didn’t let you.

“Do you think he could protect you the way I have? Do you think he even sees you? You’re so... stupid.” His grip tightened, just enough to make you gasp. “But I’ll fix that.”

That night, he showed you what it meant to belong to someone.

There was nothing gentle in the way he touched you. Nothing kind. It wasn’t love—not in the way you’d dreamed it would be.

It was sharp edges and whispered threats. The suffocating weight of his body pinning yours to the mattress, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured things too dark to repeat.

“I’ll make sure you never think of him again,” he growled, his voice low and venomous.

You cried. He didn’t stop.

Because you were his. And no one else deserved to have you—not even you.

The next morning, he watched as you sat silently at the table, your hands trembling as you picked at your breakfast.

You didn’t look at him.

Good.

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a satisfied smile.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he said, his tone light and conversational, as if nothing had happened. “You’ll see.”

But in the dim light of the kitchen, his eyes glinted with something darker.

Something permanent.

────────────

He hadn’t kissed you that night. He hadn’t touched you—not in the way he craved. That would come later.

Instead, he had punished you.

The memory played like a cracked film reel in his mind, skipping over the sound of your muffled cries, the way your body jolted with every strike of his hand. He’d treated it like a lesson, hadn’t he? A father disciplining a wayward child, nothing more.

Except it was so much more.

Each tear that slipped down your cheeks, each broken sob, fed something primal inside him. It made him feel strong, in control—your trembling figure draped across his lap, your protests falling to deaf ears.

“You need to understand,” he had murmured between blows, his voice calm, deliberate. “You don’t need anyone else. You don’t get to have anyone else.”

It wasn’t until your body went limp, your resolve shattered, that he finally stopped. His hand lingered against your flushed skin, his breathing uneven. He could feel the temptation coiling inside him, the desire to leave more than just a warning.

But he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Not yet.

You were still too young, too delicate, and he loved you too much to break you completely.

In the days that followed, you clung to him like you always had. The defiance in your eyes was gone, replaced by a docile obedience that filled him with both satisfaction and guilt.

It was better this way. No friends, no distractions.

Just the two of you, the way it had always been.

────────────

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the suffocating quiet of his room.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp as he exhaled sharply.

He could feel the cracks spreading, the fragile dam of restraint he’d built over the years threatening to shatter. You were older now—no longer the awkward, wide-eyed girl he’d once protected. You were beautiful, maddeningly so, and every time he looked at you, he could feel his self-control slipping.

But what was he supposed to do?

His parents had never cared, not about him, not about you. The only thing that mattered to them was the profit you both could generate. He doubted they’d even notice if he crossed the line.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

His gaze drifted to the doorway you’d just passed through, his chest tightening with something dark and suffocating.

He could take you now if he wanted to. No one would stop him. No one would care.

But he cared.

He loved you in a way that terrified him, a way that left him tangled in knots of lust and guilt and longing. He wanted you—to keep you, to claim you, to destroy anyone who dared look at you the wrong way. But more than that, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you.

And that’s where the conflict lay.

Would you still look at him with those soft, trusting eyes if you knew what he was thinking? Would you still cling to his arm, still smile at him, still call him brother if you knew the truth?

Or would you hate him?

The thought sent a shiver of rage and despair through him, his hands clenching into fists.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal.

What was the point of waiting?

Every moment he held back felt like agony, his need for you consuming him piece by piece. You were already his, in every way that mattered. You’d been his from the start, long before you even realized it.

He stopped in front of the mirror, his reflection glaring back at him—a predator barely leashed, a man fighting against the very instincts that defined him.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a dark, humorless smile.

“As long as I don’t get caught, right?” he muttered, his voice dripping with bitter irony.

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

When he finally left the room, his mind was made up.

He’d wait, just a little longer. Long enough for you to grow even more dependent on him, long enough for you to forget whatever fleeting fantasies you’d once harbored about other men.

And when the time came, when there was no doubt in your mind that he was the only one who could ever love you, he’d take what was his.

Until then, he’d bide his time.

But God help anyone who got in the way.

You were his. And soon, you’d know it too.

────────────

Classes had started like any other semester. Despite sharing a dorm, he and you had kept your distance—a mutual, unspoken agreement that suited both of you.

On the surface, things appeared normal.

He excelled as always, juggling academics, sports, and a parade of temporary girlfriends like it was nothing. You thrived in your own way, delving into the competitive grind of your entrepreneurship course with an unrelenting focus. To the outside world, you were two strangers, bound only by circumstance. No one would guess you were siblings, much less tied by anything deeper.

And that was fine by him.

As long as you stayed close—within reach—he could tolerate the cold distance between you.

It began as a flicker, a subtle shift in your demeanor that most would have missed.

You’d always been poised, calm, your expressions muted and unreadable, much like his own. But lately, there was something else—an irritation simmering beneath the surface, barely contained. You’d still wear that neutral, aloof mask, but he could see through it.

At first, he dismissed it. Maybe you were stressed. Maybe it was nothing.

But then he noticed the reason.

It was another guy.

The bastard was a thorn in your side, a so-called academic rival who had taken to hounding you relentlessly. He was obnoxious and petty, constantly goading you with thinly veiled insults and challenges.

Initially, he’d thought it might be a good thing—an opportunity for you to toughen up, to learn not to rely on him or anyone else.

How fucking naive he’d been.

The longer he watched, the more he understood.

The interloper didn’t even realize he liked you, not yet, but the signs were there. The way he hovered around you, the excuses he made to stay close, the looks that lingered too long—it was all obvious to him.

What infuriated him most was you.

You, who never cared about anyone. You, who had always kept your distance from people, brushing off their advances without a second thought.

You weren’t pushing the bastard away.

You tolerated him, even seemed to accept his presence, and that made his blood boil.

He told himself it didn’t matter.

No need to make a scene. No need to draw attention.

But it gnawed at him, day by day, that stupid fucker sticking to your side like a damn parasite. He could feel it building inside him, a storm of frustration and possessiveness he couldn’t fully suppress.

And then it happened.

You were late for dinner one evening, and his annoyance was already simmering by the time he went looking for you. He’d told himself he was only checking in because it was still his responsibility to take care of you.

That’s what he told himself.

He found you in an empty classroom.

And you weren’t alone.

────────────

The moment he saw you with him, it was as if the ground beneath his feet had shifted.

At first, it was confusion—a fleeting, disorienting moment where he didn’t fully understand what he was looking at. The interloper, leaning closer, his expression soft and open, the kind of look reserved for someone you cherished. You.

You, standing there, not moving, not rejecting him. Your hand was still, almost brushing against his, your lips parted as if you might speak—or worse, respond.

The first spike of jealousy hit him like a blade.

Not the dull ache of annoyance he’d felt when you first started tolerating this bastard’s presence. No, this was different. This was visceral. It clawed at him, shredding through his carefully constructed self-control until all that remained was raw, unfiltered rage.

His pulse roared in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out reason. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He could feel the metallic tang of it on his tongue, sharp and bitter, mixing with the bile rising in his throat.

He’d always prided himself on being in control. He wasn’t some reckless animal, driven by instinct or emotion. He was better than that. Smarter than that.

But watching that fucking bastard lean closer to you—watching you let him—it unraveled something inside him.

This wasn’t just anger. This wasn’t just possessiveness.

This was a deep, gnawing sickness, a jealousy so consuming it felt like his very soul was being eaten alive.

He couldn’t stand the way the interloper looked at you, like you were something pure and delicate. Like you were a prize to be won.

That was his.

You were his.

The thought burned through him, scorching and absolute.

He’d spent years keeping you close, making sure no one else could reach you, molding your world so that he was at the center of it. And yet, here you were, letting this pathetic excuse of a man step into the space that only he should occupy.

It was a betrayal.

And you—oh, you—were just as much to blame.

You, who never cared for anyone. You, who always kept your distance, your heart locked away. You, who had followed him like a shadow for so long, who had looked at him with that shy, adoring gaze that made him feel untouchable.

Now you were looking at someone else.

And it wasn’t just the look—it was your body language, the way you leaned ever so slightly into the interloper’s space. The way your eyes softened, your lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

He wanted to rip that expression off your face.

Not because it didn’t suit you—it did. It was beautiful. It made his heart ache.

But because it wasn’t for him.

The jealousy twisted, dark and monstrous, until it became something else entirely.

He didn’t just want to destroy the interloper.

He wanted to destroy you.

Not completely—no, never completely. You were his, after all. But he wanted to shatter this version of you, the one who dared to look at someone else with warmth. The one who dared to let someone else get close.

He wanted to strip you down to nothing and rebuild you in his image, piece by trembling piece, until there was no room for anyone else.

And then the bastard leaned in closer, and the room seemed to tilt.

The distance between you shrank, his lips hovering just above yours.

────────────

You were letting it happen.

Something inside him snapped.

Before he realized it, he was moving. The door slammed open with a deafening crash, and the interloper jerked back, startled, his face paling when he saw the storm etched into his expression.

“Hey, man—”

The words barely left the bastard’s lips before his fist collided with his jaw, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the empty room. The impact sent the other man sprawling, blood pooling from his broken nose as he groaned in shock and pain.

“Stay. Away.” His voice was low, lethal, the kind of tone that promised far worse if the warning wasn’t heeded.

The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the crumpled figure at his feet.

He turned to you then, his chest heaving, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

You stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, your lips parted in disbelief.

“Get up,” he barked, his tone sharp, brooking no argument. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t move, still staring at the man on the floor, and something in him snapped again.

He crossed the distance between you in two strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him with enough force to make you stumble.

“I said, we’re leaving.” His voice was quieter this time, but the edge of danger was unmistakable.

Your gaze finally shifted to him, your eyes searching his face for something—an explanation, a reassurance, anything.

But all you found was rage.

As he dragged you out of the room, his grip unyielding, his mind raced.

This wasn’t over. Not even close.

You had betrayed him. Again.

And this time, he wasn’t sure he could let it slide.

No one else gets to have you. No one.

────────────

The door to your shared dorm slammed shut behind you with a bone-jarring finality. The echo reverberated in the small space, amplifying the oppressive silence that followed. You winced, clutching your throbbing wrist where his grip had bruised it. But before you could pull away, his hand was on you again, relentless and unyielding.

“Let go,” you hissed, yanking your arm back, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound resolute. The command only seemed to enrage him further.

His response was immediate, a blur of motion and a sting that burned like fire across your cheek. The force sent you staggering, your knees hitting the cold floor as your vision swam. Pain blossomed, sharp and unrelenting, and you tasted copper on your tongue.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” His voice, usually so measured, so cold, was now raw and trembling with fury. He loomed over you, a monolith of rage, his shadow swallowing you whole. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see? Wouldn’t know?”

You pressed a trembling hand to your face, the sting of his slap radiating through your skull. You glared up at him, defiance flickering like a dying ember in your tear-filled eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice quaking as you pushed yourself up. “I didn’t do anything!”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand shot out, tangling viciously in your hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, unhinged gaze.

“Didn’t do anything?” he snarled, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that sent chills racing down your spine. “You let him touch you. You let him. Are you that desperate? That much of a pathetic little whore?”

You choked on a gasp as he tightened his grip, pulling hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your neck. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “I saw it. You didn’t push him away. You didn’t stop him.”

“You’re wong,” you bit out, your voice trembling with fury and fear. “You’re imagining things that aren’t there—”

Another slap cut your words short, sharper this time, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You crumpled again, your cheek pressed against the floor, and before you could recover, his hand was back, dragging you up like a ragdoll.

“Do you spread your legs for anyone who pays attention to you?” he hissed, his voice venomous, laced with a dangerous kind of desperation. “Are you really that easy? That desperate for it?”

You glared at him through the haze of pain and tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. But he wasn’t looking for defiance. He was looking for submission.

For proof that you were his, and his alone.

His free hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was a terrifying mix of fury and something else—something far darker, far more possessive.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Say you’re mine. Say it, or so help me, I’ll make sure no one ever looks at you again.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to scream, but the words caught in your throat as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.

“Say. It.”

The room spun, your vision blurring as the oxygen left your lungs. Panic set in, and your resolve began to crumble. You clawed at his arm, your body trembling with the effort to stay conscious.

“Yours,” you gasped, barely audible, but it was enough.

His grip loosened just enough to let you breathe, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a sickening mix of relief and terror. His grip in your hair eased, but only to drag you closer, his arms encircling you in a cage of muscle and iron will.

“Don’t make me do this again,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less threatening. “I don’t like hurting you. But I will if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

You stayed silent, too shaken to respond, your body trembling in his grasp. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. This was only the beginning of the storm.

────────────

Without another word, his lips slammed onto yours, a bruising, punishing kiss that stole what little breath you had left. Your eyes widened in shock, and you squirmed, thrashing against his iron hold, but it only seemed to fuel him further. His teeth bit down hard on your lower lip, drawing blood, and his tongue invaded your mouth with an almost feral desperation.

Every movement was a claim, a declaration, his hands gripping you like you might vanish if he let go. He growled against your lips, his voice a low, guttural snarl as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning yours effortlessly.

“Since you’re so eager to spread your legs for any man who looks your way,” he hissed, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, “why not for me? Your own older brother. Or does that only make you more of a filthy little slut?”

You shook your head vehemently, tears spilling down your cheeks, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want your consent; he wanted your submission. Your humiliation. His lips crashed against yours again, his teeth marking you, biting and bruising as though he could etch himself into your very being.

His hips pressed against yours, the weight of him inescapable as he ground against you with a possessive growl. Every word that left his mouth was venomous, dripping with jealousy and rage.

“Do you know how sick you make me?” he spat, his voice trembling with fury. “How fucking jealous I get every time I see someone else looking at you? Touching you? You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

Your protests were muffled, your struggles weakening under the sheer force of his assault. His hands roamed your body with an almost methodical cruelty, every touch a reminder that you belonged to him and no one else. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air heavy with his dominance, his possessive need swallowing you whole.

“No one else gets to have you,” he growled against your ear, his voice a deadly promise. “No one.”

His lips crashed against yours again, bruising, punishing, and suffocating. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only raw desperation and rage poured into every motion. His teeth scraped against your lips, a deliberate, cutting edge to the kiss that made you whimper, the taste of blood sharp and metallic as it spread across your tongue. He wasn’t just kissing you; he was claiming you, forcing his presence into every corner of your being.

When you tried to pull back, his hand was there, tangling in your hair with a bruising grip, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Every gasp you took was his to steal, every sound you made swallowed by his insistent, devouring mouth.

His tongue pressed into you, hot and invasive, tasting, consuming, as though he could erase any trace of anyone else with sheer force alone. The kiss deepened with every passing moment, turning darker, hungrier, as his free hand gripped your waist hard enough to leave marks, pressing your body against the wall with an unrelenting pressure.

The sharp pain of his bite pulled a gasp from your lips, and he seized the moment, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that felt almost mocking. It wasn’t enough for him to take; he wanted you to feel it—to feel the way he dominated every inch of you, every sound, every breath.

“You taste like lies,” he growled against your lips, the words vibrating through your chest as his teeth grazed your bottom lip again, threatening another sharp bite. His breath was hot and ragged, mingling with yours, and the fury in his eyes hadn’t dimmed—it had only sharpened, focused entirely on you. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone else have this? Have you?”

Your hands pushed weakly at his chest, but it was like trying to move stone. He laughed, a low, bitter sound that sent chills racing down your spine. “Pathetic,” he sneered, the word dripping with venom. “Look at you. Fighting when you know you’ll lose. You always lose.”

He kissed you again, harder this time, his teeth sinking into your lip just enough to sting before he licked the blood away with a slow, deliberate motion. “Mine,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “Every inch of you. Every breath you take. Don’t forget it.”

He shifted slightly, his hips pressing against yours, trapping you further as his mouth moved with calculated cruelty. Each kiss was an invasion, each touch a brand, his lips trailing down to your jawline and then to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, sending a jolt through your body that you couldn’t suppress.

“You think they could kiss you like this?” he hissed, his voice rough and filled with bitter jealousy. His lips latched onto the base of your throat, sucking hard enough to bruise as his hands roamed your sides with deliberate possessiveness. “Think again.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face inches from yours, his breath fanning against your swollen lips. His thumb brushed your cheek, almost tender, before he pressed it against the raw bite mark he’d left. You flinched, and he smirked, leaning in to whisper against your ear.

“You’ll remember who you belong to. Every time you see these marks, every time you feel them—” His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “—you’ll remember me.”

Then his lips found yours again, relentless, brutal, as though he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into your waist, his nails biting into your skin, and every movement was a reminder of the storm raging beneath his skin.

“You make me like this,” he growled between kisses, his voice thick with fury and something darker. “You make me fucking crazy. You make me want to ruin you, just so no one else can even look at you.”

His words blurred with the heat of his kiss, the tension between you a heady mix of fear, pain, and something far more twisted. And in that moment, you knew there was no escape—not from him, not from this, and certainly not from the obsession that burned in his eyes every time they met yours.

"You're a such a fucking cheating bitch. But, you're my cheating bitch."

List of Fandoms and Characters

Ace Attorney: N/A

Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa

Dishonored Series: Kirin Jindosh

Genshin Impact: Ayato Kamisato, Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima, Ushijima Wakatoshi

Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Chrollo Lucilfer

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru

Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zenin, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Se Jun-Lee

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Xavier

Naruto Shippuden: Kabuto Yakushi, Tobirama Senju

One Punch Man: Amai Mask

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: N/A

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans / Murder! Sans

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

Yandere! Older Brother & Little Sister

Novelette 1 : Sins of the Silent Heart

You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

🔞He says it’s love, but the scars on your skin tell a different story.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.

General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk-blog1

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yandere-romanticaa · 9 months ago

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It was a dangerous thing for a man to fall in love. Men lose all rationale, all meaning and thoughts if they were to merely catch a glimpse of the object of their affection.

Such a thing was even more precarious if the man in question was Calcharo.

Calcharo, in lack of words, did not know how to love. He was unfamiliar with the soft touch a lover was required to have, the thought of having to constantly shower you with gifts and praises made his stomach churn with nausea.

So, he settled with being a silent observer. In his head that was the best possible outcome he could have. This way he would never taint you but he would also be capable of having you to himself.

Loving you brought no pleasure to Calcharo. He was often found crouching near the group campfire, his gaze distant and heavy, the grip on his weapon was so tight that the men around him were positive that if anyone dared to even approach him in such a daze, their head would be chopped off clean from their shoulders. His heart would ache so badly, Calcharo felt as though thorny vines had manifested deep inside of him and conquered his soul, leaving him powerless.

He made a rule that he will never, ever, allow you to touch him.

If he felt the gentleness of your skin on his own, there would be no going back. He would be lost deep in the abyss.

His love only brought him pain. And like the madman that he was, he continued to fall even deeper under your spell.

He was not sure if he was ready to face the pain of the absence of your presence.

#once again The Vibes™ have prevailed #which means that this post isn't heading anywhere it's literally just my mindless rambling #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere male #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #yandere wuthering waves #yandere wuwa #wuthering waves x you #wuwa calcharo #yandere calcharo #wuwa calcharo x reader

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yandere-wishes · 9 months ago

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I know we're all lusting after Scar. But hear me out..

#wuthering waves #calcharo has just as much yandere potential #and jiyan would be the most protective boyfriend ever #these two have my heart #😍♥️😍♥️#wuwa jiyan #jiyan #calcharo #yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere x you #yandere aesthetic

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loriannbowman · 3 months ago

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Jiyan | The Teal Dragon

A dragon is strong. A dragon is proud. A dragon is wise. A dragon is powerful. A dragon is...

Jiyan opens his eyes, the sunlight of a new day's dawn filtering through his thick lashes. He breathes a sigh, a steamy fog escaping his mouth as the morning's cold clutches still cling the dew soaked earth. Jiyan runs a hand down his face, waking up every nerve that is part of his pale, yet unmarred skin.

The Tacet Discords have been quiet for a while now, and the Black Shores give no reports of potential cases of Retroact Rain. Everything, for the most part, is calm, calm enough to be able to breathe.

Sitting up, Jiyan rolls his shoulders, shaking off the sleep from his muscles and bones. He does his best to suppress a yawn, but ends up giving in, letting his jaw stretch as he rolls his head.

Jiyan quickly gets up from his cot and grabs his greatsword and spear. On the battlefield, your weapon should always remain within reach, especially when one is under the assumed precedence of peace.

"Good morning, General Jiyan!" a chirped voice says.

Only a small handful of people are awake this early in the morning, and most of them are from the night shift, eagerly waiting for their turn to rest. There is only one person, other than the general himself, that would be awake at this hour.

"Good morning, Sergeant (L/n), you're up early today. I thought maybe I could beat you, guess not."

A bright smile shines on the young sergeant's face.

"Nope, not today, General. I've already warmed up some porridge for you," they say, a soft chuckle escaping their lips.

Jiyan can feel a throb in his chest. His hand moves before he realizes and clutches his heart. Jiyan feels a sweat build up on the back of his neck.

"General Jiyan, are you alright?" the young sergeant asks, standing quickly and rushes to Jiyan's side.

"I'm... Fine..." Jiyan pants out.

He knows this feeling, this throbbing in his chest, he's felt this same feeling for a while now, and it's all because of them.

Every time they smile. Every time they laugh. Every time they stand proud over a defeated enemy, sweat dripping down their brow with a glowing appearance. Every time... they come close to him. Every time they do a kind gesture out of their way for him. Every time... Every time...

He knows this feeling, this throbbing in his chest.

But does he really?

Is this love he feels for someone? Is this a desire to be with them? The want to protect someone and stand by their side till time's end? The longing for companionship no other person can fulfill? Or is this a carnal need soldiers often get after being on the battlefield too long; the craving for sexual intimacy with anyone you might find even slight romantic affection for? His head spun every time he thought about what this emotion might be; whenever they got too close.

"You don't look fine. Come, let's get you a seat," they says, pulling Jiyan's arm over their shoulder and leads them to where his prepared meal sits.

The scent of their skin made its way to Jiyan's senses, causing his eyes to cloud over slightly.

The young sergeant sets Jiyan down on a small stool, making sure he's well enough to sit, gently pushing him forwards to lean on the table.

Jiyan's body fills with shivers at the feeling. Their fingers, although barely, grazed lightly against his Tacet Mark, sending waves of pleasure through his longing body. Jiyan has to restrain himself from turning around and pinning the young sergeant.

It's not their fault. It's not their fault. It's not their fault.

Trying quickly to sooth his mind, Jiyan quickly starts to eat the bowl of rice porridge that sits before him, steaming.

You've got to control yourself. They're just being helpful.

Jiyan uses his utensils to pick up the egg that sits on the side and quickly swallows it, the light yolk dripping down his soft lips. Noticing it falling, Jiyan uses his tongue to swipe at the runny yellow goo.

"Are you doing any better, General? For a second, I was worried you were having a heart attack! If not, I can always wake up out healer."

"No. No... Like I said, I'm fine. I just had a minor heartache, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

"A heartache should still be looked at. You never know if it could lead to something more serious."

Jiyan looks up and makes contact with their eyes. They're bright, beautiful eyes are wide with worry. Their plush lips in a soft pout. Their hands fiddle with one another, playing with the seams of their gloves.

"Thank you, Sergeant (L/n), for your concern, but I really am alright. Trust me, if it was something to worry about, I would visit out medic without hesitation. I'm really okay, I promise."

The young sergeant hums with doubt but nods their head.

"If you say so. I have put all my trust in you before, General, and I will continue to do so until I pass."

A smile graces Jiyan's lips and a soft hum escapes his throat. It's deep and melodious, sending away the negative energy that once surrounded the two far off.

"And I put all my trust in you, too."

The young sergeant's eyes widen like saucers.

"Th-Thank you! You're trust is important to me." They look away with a sense of bashfulness in their handsome features.

That look... it's all for me... and should always be only for me...

A dragon is selfish. A dragon is greedy. A dragon is possessive. A dragon does not share. A dragon hoards. A dragon is cunning. A dragon is...

Jiyan

-----

❥ Yandere!Jiyan loves you

❥ Yandere!Jiyan always wants to be with you

❥ Yandere!Jiyan will do anything to keep you by his side

❥ Yandere!Jiyan doesn't like having to send your team off to fight Tacet Discords

❥ Yandere!Jiyan would rather have you stay as a statistical analyzer, something far away from the battlefield

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who has to hide the burning desire inside his chest every single time he comes to see you

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who's nightmares used to consist of all of his comrades dying, now consist of you and only you dying in his arms

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who hangs around your tent after you fall a sleep for only a moment, for that is all he allows himself to have

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who itches to touch you

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who doesn't know if this is love or of this is simply sexual desire built up over time

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who in the end, doesn't really care, convincing himself its the former

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who can do nothing but glare and itch at the other soldiers who look at you, especially your little team of four

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who drags his nails down his face every time the passing thought of you with someone else crosses his mind

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who can feel his heart throb and can't seem to breath when he thinks about you passing away on the field

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who manages to get you alone

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who, after sometime, reports you as missing

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who has you tied up, away from prying eyes

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who explains everything that's been happening to you. You should still be allowed to be informed as to what's happening on the frontlines

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who loves you the most, but is not cruel enough to not care for his other soldiers, he just has a favourite

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who, after finally having you broken, needing him, will report having found you

When everyone is worried and sees the state your in, they as ❥ Yandere!Jiyan to take you back home

You're forced to retire from the Midnight Rangers which brings ❥ Yandere!Jiyan so much joy. You'll finally be safe at home

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who takes you back to his home, locking you up there

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who asks to marry you, not giving you a choice to refuse

❥ Yandere!Jiyan who, once he's finally able to leave, can stay with you

❥ Yandere!Jiyan always wants to be with you

❥ Yandere!Jiyan loves you

#wuthering waves #wuwa #jiyan #wuwa jiyan #jiyan wuwa #jiyan wuthering waves #wuthering waves jiyan #yandere jiyan #yandere wuwa #yandere wuthering waves #headcanon #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere jiyan x reader #yandere jiyan x you #jiyan x reader #jiyan x you

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taintedbenevolence · 7 months ago

Note

I loved your posts about wuthering waves! If it's not a problem, could you do more hcs with yandere calcharo and yan geshulin with a fem reader like acheron (hsr)? If you can't, that's okay!

a/n. thank you! <3 it's no problem at all, I'm honestly in love atm with calcharo, so I'm more than happy to write for him. As for geshulin, I'll put him on hold for now since I need to study his character a bit more, but I'll come back to write this request once I'm more familiar with him!

warnings. stalking, attempted murder, toxic behavior.

pairing. calcharo / f!reader

notations. reader is based on acheron from honkai: star rail.

CALCHARO

The mercenary is intrigued. Typically, his interest isn't piqued by anything at all, let alone a person, so he's rather.. unsure of what to make of you.

After all, it's rare someone of your caliber and skill passes by with such an impassive expression.

He has made a habit and stalked observed you quite often, and he is interested, put it lightly, in the way you easily handle any sort of TDs or threats.

It's as if you've got all your combat skills committed to memory. Something about it (and you) seems off to him.

At first, he held a smidge of hope that you wouldn't be as complicated to deal with, but as it stood, your ability to hold your ground in the battlefield was as infuriating as it was fascinating, and it would well prove to be an obstacle if he wanted to get a chance at making himself known to you.

And truth be told, you knew well who he was; you merely couldn't care less.

He was strong and he was capable, but he was just one man in one giant world. You had better things to do than gawk at him.

That did not go by well with him.

So one morning, when you're just walking about with your blade in hand in the outskirts, you hear the crackling of electric pulses sizzling the grass, and when a blade nearly grazes your cheek, you glance behind, seeing the silver-haired mercenary.

And as if he hadn't tried to kill you, he stares back, observing as you unsheathe your blade, his voice impatient.

"Caught your attention yet?"

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rurann · 5 months ago

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Ruthless x Empathetic (Geshu Lin x Reader)

Chapters:

Next: Chapter Two

Tag list

Summary:

[I made this because of the lack of Geshu Lin fanfics!]

Tags: Explicit

Love Triangles, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, General x Medic, Yandere Geshu Lin

[Tags will be updated as the story goes but I intend to have this story rated Explicit.]

Chapter One

The Ruthless General

Your dream was to heal as many people as you could. You had witnessed your older brother take his last agonizing breath in the clinic, and since then, you harbored the dream to become a medic and bring recovery to everyone.

It was probably due to your immense determination towards your goal that you soon became blessed with a Tacet mark and the Glacio attribute at a very young age. By the time you reached your older teenage years, you became a well-known, reliable medic in Jinzhou. This popularity aided you in getting a spot among the Midnight Rangers. As soon as you reached eighteen, you received the military letter of recommendation.

After undergoing the necessary programs, you were finally thrust into the real, harsh battlefield as a rearguard, a combat unit specializing in healing the wounded.

Wounded soldiers, who had faced the gruesome Tacet Discords in Norfall Barrens, came rushing into your tent. Each of them elicited their own noises of pain - either by grunting, groaning, screaming or wailing. You had seen and heard it all. It reminded you of your dear big brother.

After numerous waves of TDs, it finally stopped. All of you were given a chance to rest at the main base in Desorock Highland.

You dragged yourself to refill your bottle with water somewhere in the base. You almost chugged everything in that bottle in one drink. It finally dawned on you that you were sweating lightly all over.

“You may take a full rest if you need to.”

The masculine voice staggered you out of a trance. You looked over to see it was a man with rather long teal hair, tied high in a ponytail. You recognized him in an instant.

Jiyan. He was one year older than you, and he was very wise in your eyes. He impressed you so much at first sight. He was still a young adult and he already joined the Midnight Rangers as a doctor. His medical prowess and knowledge were astounding as well. He helped you a lot during your training as a newly enlisted soldier. It was safe to say that he was your mentor when it comes to medical subjects.

“Oh, Jiyan, it’s you…” you let out a sigh. You refilled the bottle again and addressed him. “I’m doing fine. How about you?”

He approached you calmly, his teal eyes soft with concern. “I've been through worse. But you… you've been working nonstop since we arrived. Even healers need to rest.”

You gave a small nod, though your mind was still racing with images of the wounded soldiers. “I know, but… I can’t. Some of them were so close. If I hadn’t…”

You trailed off, gripping the bottle tighter as your knuckles turned white.

Jiyan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. His grip was very gentle, the same way he’d guided you through your toughest moments during training. “You did more than enough. You’ve saved lives today. That's what matters.”

You glanced up at him, the tension in your chest loosening slightly. His presence was like a calming wind, as it had always been. Still, the weight of responsibility pressed down on you, relentless. “I suppose… but it's hard to shake off these images…”

Jiyan gave you a small smile. “That's the burden of a healer. You feel every loss as if it's your own, but you mustn’t forget the ones you saved. You need to take care of yourself, too. Otherwise, how will you keep saving others?”

You stared at him for a moment before sighing, your shoulders finally relaxing. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Other than being a knowledgeable medical healer, Jiyan proved to know how to get someone’s spirits up as well. As you watched him walk away, his words lingered in your mind, offering a sense of reassurance that you didn’t know you needed. He had a way of grounding you, reminding you of the balance between healing others and caring for yourself. You felt the tension in your body ease a little more, and for the first time since the battle ended, you walked with the weight on your chest lightened.

You went back to your tent and took the time to clean up and prepare for what little rest you could get. As you scrubbed away the grime of battle, you felt the tension in your body slowly ease, and for the first time in hours, you felt a glimmer of peace.

“General Geshu Lin!”

The sudden call outside snapped you out of your thoughts. You peered out of the tent to see a figure approaching—the renowned General of the Midnight Rangers, Geshu Lin. His presence commanded the space around him, with his flowing white hair and sharp amber eyes that seemed to cut through anyone who dared meet them. The subtle scar that crossed his lips only enhanced the intensity of his expression. Dressed in his signature black uniform, he was a striking figure, one that demanded both respect and fear.

The atmosphere shifted the moment he arrived. The rangers in the camp stood straighter, their expressions turning tense. Even the wounded seemed to gather some strength, driven by the authority that surrounded him.

“General,” one of the rangers stepped forward with a hesitant but respectful tone, “the Tacet Discord attacks have weakened significantly. What are your next orders, sir?”

Geshu Lin stopped in his tracks, his sharp gaze surveying the area before finally resting on the ranger who had spoken. His shadow loomed over them, casting a cold and imposing aura.

“We will seize this opportunity to strike them while their numbers are diminished,” he said, his voice as steady as it was commanding. “Prepare everyone within fifteen minutes.”

Your heart dropped at his words. The idea of going back into battle so soon, after barely having the chance to rest, sent a wave of dread crashing through you. As if reading your thoughts, another ranger dared to voice the concern on everyone’s minds.

“But, sir, many of us are still recovering. We’ve barely had a moment to rest.”

Geshu Lin’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing with a cold edge that silenced any further complaints. His gaze cut through the ranger who had spoken as he replied, “If you value Jinzhou and your families, you will not question my commands. The enemy will not wait for us to recover. We must stand tall against all threats, no matter the cost.”

A few of the rangers straightened, their fear replaced by a grim sense of duty.

“Yes, sir!” they answered in unison.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle heavily in your chest. The call to battle had always been relentless, but with Geshu Lin leading, there was no room for hesitation. His resolve was as unwavering as the cold steel of his broad blade.

You and the other rearguard rangers sprang into action, accelerating your efforts to heal the wounded with a newfound urgency. Every second mattered now. The faster you worked, the sooner the vanguard rangers could press forward under General Geshu Lin’s command.

In no time, the vanguard rangers stood in formation behind the general, their faces set with grim determination. You watched from the side, heart heavy with unspoken prayers for their safety as they marched deeper into the Norfall Barrens. The barren wasteland seemed to swallow them whole, a black abyss that held nothing but danger. You could only hope that every single one of them would return.

As the vanguard disappeared from sight, you hurried back to your tent, located in a safe zone at the edge of the barrens. This area had been reclaimed just days ago, a hard-fought victory led by General Geshu Lin and the Midnight Rangers against a seemingly endless army of Tacet Discords. You prepared yourself for the inevitable—more wounded would be coming soon.

Minutes later, the first wave of injured rangers arrived at your tent. Bloodied and bruised, they stumbled in, collapsing onto the makeshift beds. You didn’t hesitate. With your Resonance abilities, you quickly got to work, healing torn flesh, mending broken bones, and soothing the aches that came from battle. But as you worked, you overheard bits of conversation from the injured, and your heart sank.

“They ambushed us,” one soldier muttered weakly, his voice trembling. “Came from every direction the moment we entered the deeper territory…”

“They were waiting for us,” another added, his eyes wide with fear. “We didn’t stand a chance.”

But what struck you most was the mention of Geshu Lin. The soldiers spoke of him with awe and… resentment. They recounted how he had single-handedly cut through half of the Tacet Discords in a single swing of his broadblade. His power was unparalleled, but he kept rushing forward. He did not glance at his soldiers as he advanced ruthlessly. Tears fell from the eyes of some as they recalled comrades who had fallen, struck down before they could even raise their weapons in defense.

Your hands moved faster, desperate to heal them all, to keep them alive so they wouldn’t be added to the growing list of casualties. Exhaustion began to claw at you, each burst of healing taking a little more out of you. Your arms felt heavy, and your vision blurred, but you couldn’t stop. No. Not yet. You mustn’t faint when everyone is relying on you.

The last ranger staggered out of your tent, his wounds healed, and you slumped against the side of the cot. Just as you were about to call for backup, your Terminal beeped. A message flashed across the screen: Mission success. We’ve reclaimed a large territory in Norfall Barrens. Casualties are heavy, but we’re retreating.

Relief washed over you, but it was bittersweet. The message confirmed their victory, but also hinted at the price they had paid. You knew you couldn’t relax just yet. There would be more wounded on their way back, and likely more stories of loss.

The relief of victory quickly vanished as you saw the true cost of the battle. As the soldiers returned to the base at Desorock Highland, their weary, hollow expressions told the story of a pyrrhic triumph. There were no celebrations, no cheers of success—only the quiet murmur of soldiers, weighed down by exhaustion and loss.

You moved quickly through the base, checking on the survivors as they trudged back from the battlefield. But as you passed by groups of rangers, you couldn’t help but overhear the low voices filled with bitterness.

“It’s the general, you know...”

“Yeah, he just charged forward, slaying monsters like nothing, but he didn’t even glance at us. We were left to deal with the Tacet Discords coming from all sides.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks. He’s the reason we lost so many this time.”

You swallowed hard, the murmurs sinking into your bones. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard whispers like this about Geshu Lin. His reputation was as cold as the steel of his broadblade. A ruthless leader, famed for his unmatched power on the battlefield, but infamous for his lack of concern for his comrades. Many admired his strength, but few respected the way he wielded it—without mercy, without hesitation, even if it meant his soldiers paid the ultimate price.

No one dared to voice these complaints openly, though. Despite the casualties, despite his seemingly callous leadership, General Geshu Lin was the strongest Resonator in the Midnight Rangers. He alone had faced and obliterated the Tacet Fields and Overlord Discords that would have otherwise wiped out entire battalions. His power was undeniable, and the Rangers needed him—even if it meant enduring his relentless, unyielding command.

That’s when you heard your name called sharply, breaking through your thoughts. You turned to see a familiar figure approaching—Changmin, a seasoned rearguard ranger. He was easily twenty years your senior, his graying hair and weathered face telling the story of decades spent in the field.

“The general is injured. I need you to heal him pronto,” Changmin said urgently as soon as you reached him.

Your heart skipped a beat at the request.

“General Geshu Lin?” you asked, and then you realized how dumb you might sound.

Changmin confirmed with a firm nod. “I saw it myself. A deep cut on his left arm. But, as usual, he’s refusing treatment.”

Standing beside Changmin, another senior ranger chimed in with a sigh, “He insists he’s fine. Says he doesn’t need any assistance. It might be hard for her to heal him without his consent.”

Changmin's brow furrowed deeply, frustration was evident in the creases of his weathered face. “He always refuses help. But have you seen the wound? If it isn’t treated properly, it’ll just add to the many scars he already has.”

The other ranger let out a weary sigh before looking at you. “Just do your best to convince him. If he still refuses… well, maybe he prefers handling his injuries alone.”

You nodded, feeling a growing unease in the pit of your stomach. The thought of approaching Geshu Lin, someone who exuded both power and distance, was daunting. You imagined him yelling at you the moment you stepped foot in his tent.

As you made your way toward Geshu Lin's command tent, the soldiers gave you wary looks, likely surprised to see you headed in that direction. It wasn’t often that anyone approached the general for anything outside of official orders.

When you arrived at the entrance, you hesitated for a brief moment, gathering your resolve. Then, with a steadying breath, you stepped inside.

The tent was sparsely lit, the faint glow of lanterns casting long shadows across the room. And there, seated at a makeshift desk, was Geshu Lin himself. His back was to you, but you could see the tension in his posture, the way his left arm hung stiffly by his side, the bloodied bandages around it doing little to hide the extent of the damage.

“General,” you called softly, your voice barely breaking the silence.

He turned slightly, his amber eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You could feel the weight of his gaze, sharp and assessing, as though he could see straight through you.

“I was told you’re injured,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Please allow me to help you.”

“Go back to your station,” he replied coldly, turning back to his desk.

You threw a short glance at the bloodied bandage on his arm and said, “Respectfully sir, I can heal your wound almost instantly. It will take only thirty seconds.”

In his deep voice, the general replied, “Do not waste your medical equipment on me. I can do it myself.”

“I am a Resonator with healing Glacio abilities, sir,” you informed him. “I can heal you without any tools. It will only take seconds.”

He fell silent and for a moment, you thought he would refuse again. Then, to your surprise, he turned to face you fully. His eyes scrutinized you as if trying to gauge the degree of your determination. His gaze was intimidating, an invisible force that made you feel vulnerable under his scrutiny.

He spoke, “I don’t see a Tacet Mark on you.”

You got shy right away. Oh, so he was looking for my Tacet Mark.

With your eyes looking to the side, you answered with a pale blush, “I have one, but it’s just hidden under this uniform.”

“Your abilities can be better used on anyone else,” the general said dismissively, either ignoring your sudden bashfulness or not noticing it.

Feeling fed up by his stubbornness, you retorted, “Please, general. I insist.”

Then, there was a long moment of silence as he narrowed his eyes at you. The silence made you realize how rude you might sound. Uh oh, was I being forceful? Did I sound disobedient to him?

His eyes were like orbs of glacial fire, unyielding and fierce. With every passing second, your heart pounded against your chest. You couldn’t hear anything, not even the hustle and bustle outside of this camp, except for your own heartbeats.

“Fine,” Geshu Lin suddenly spoke up. “You have one minute.”

The relief washed over you like a wave, followed instantly by nervousness. Healing the general was not a small task, but doing so under his watchful gaze? That was a whole new level of pressure.

You moved swiftly, standing by his side, and began to inspect the wound. As you peeled back the bandages, you saw the deep gash—far worse than he had let on. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath to compose yourself and then began. Time seemed to still around you as you focused all your energy on the task at hand.

Summoning your Resonance ability, you felt the characteristic Glacio coldness spreading through your veins, reaching your fingertips and palm. You placed your palm on that large gash. A pale blue glow enveloping your hands illuminated the night air around you.

You observed as your Resonance skill utilized Glacio properties to heal the gash. The general would have surely felt the intense cold, but he remained stoic, his attention solely on your healing abilities.

The wound slowly began to close; the torn flesh seemingly stitching itself back together under the icy, healing touch of your hand. It was a spectacle that would have induced gasps from the onlookers, had there been any. But at that moment, it was just you and the general.

Suddenly, you felt a twinge of pain zip through your head. You barely winced, trying to withstand the pain so as not to alert the general. It was a side effect of intensive healing you had been doing that day - a reminder of the power you were wielding and the toll it took on your body.

“Enough,” Geshu Lin commanded out of the blue. Apparently, your wince did not go unnoticed.

He withdrew his arm away from your hold. You noticed the bright glow of your Glacio connecting from your palm to the gash on his arm, and you saw it stretched to nothingness as the general pulled away more and more.

You looked directly into his eyes, and in this close proximity, it looked as if you were scowling at him. You persisted with a tiny firm tone in your voice, “I am fine, general.”

You paused to grab hold of his arm and pulled it back to the previous spot where you could see it clearly between you two. You said, “It’s about to finish, so please do not move.”

The general’s brows furrowed in anger and you quickly averted your gaze to the gash. The Glacio properties were glowing and reconnecting your palm to the wound. It resumed its healing progress steadily.

Meanwhile, you began to feel intense warmth under the general’s intense glare. You could sense his burning stare. You could feel it burning a hole through your skull. Apparently, he was unamused by how forceful you were.

You couldn’t help but feel a wave of fear under his icy cold glare.

“Insolent,” you heard him murmur, but he made no move to withdraw his arm.

In your mind, you thanked the Sentinels above that he did not yell at you and kick you out of his tent. With that, you focused back on your Resonance skill.

In the dimly lit tent belonged to the general, the two of you were standing there closely with him leaning slightly on the makeshift table. He held his arm in the air between the both of you, and you had one hand holding his arm steady from below and another hand hovering over his wound, connecting your healing Glacio properties to his injury. You two were so close to each other, yet you both only focused on the healing process.

You channeled the last rush of your Resonance skill toward the wound. The flesh knit together faster under your touch, and within moments all that was left was a pale line where the deep gash had once been. The glow subsided around your hands, and you took a step back, pulling back both of your hands.

The general raised his arm close to his eyes, scrutinizing the healed injury. You clarified, “It is done. The pale line will fade away in a few hours, sir.”

Geshu Lin remained silent, his gaze still focused on his healed arm. A range of emotions flickered in his eyes, but not one of them was decipherable. It was as if you were looking at a painting crafted by a masterful artist who wove shades of emotions on a canvas too complex to discern.

The silence stretched on as Geshu Lin examined his arm. You stood there, your hands clasped tightly in front of you, unsure whether you should say something or simply leave. The tent felt stifling, the air thick with unspoken tension. For a moment, you wondered if he would dismiss you without a word, if all your effort to heal him would pass unacknowledged.

Finally, Geshu Lin lowered his arm, his sharp amber eyes locking onto yours once more. The intensity in his gaze hadn't lessened, and it dawned on you that perhaps you had overstepped by being persistent like a fly and grabbing his arm as if they were friends. You internally cringed.

“You’re persistent,” he said, his voice low but carrying the weight of an unspoken challenge.

Your pulse quickened, but you met his gaze with as much steadiness as you could muster. “I am here to do my duty, general. Whether it's healing you or the soldiers, I won’t back down from what’s necessary.”

For a brief moment, you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch—almost a smile, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. Geshu Lin stepped away from the table, rolling his newly healed arm with a precision that spoke to the countless battles he'd endured.

“You’re bold,” he added, this time with a hint of something like approval in his tone. “Most wouldn’t dare speak to me the way you just did.”

You gulped down nervously. It had occurred to you once again that your persistence, bordering on defiance, might have come across as insubordination. Your heart raced again. You half-expected him to file a harsh complaint about you to a senior rearguard member of Midnight Rangers.

“If I overstepped…” you began, but he raised a hand, silencing you.

“You did what needed to be done. That’s more than I can say for most.”

He turned his back to you, his long white hair flowed briefly with his movement. For a moment, you thought he was dismissing you non-verbally. But then you noticed him turn his head to the side, indicating that he still wanted to address you.

“You fought me today,” he said, not looking back. “But don’t make a habit of it.”

There was no malice in his words, but the warning was clear. He would tolerate your defiance this time, perhaps even respect it. But that respect was something you’d have to navigate carefully.

“Yes, sir,” you replied softly, feeling utterly relieved.

The general turned his head to the front and said, “You are dismissed.”

With that, you bowed your head, turned and left. The rush of the past few moments finally caught up to you, and your knees almost wobbled as you rushed back into your tent. You zipped the tent fully closed and sat down, catching your breath, the weight of the interaction settling on your shoulders.

The general was unlike anyone you had ever encountered. His power, his cold demeanor, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the entire world on his back—it was overwhelming. You could understand why no one dared to lash out at him about his ruthless behavior on the battlefield. He was ruthless to the enemies and, according to the soldiers, also ruthless and uncaring to his allies if he felt they were too slow. And yet, he was okay with you. You had definitely overstepped your boundaries, but he disregarded it. Why?

As you sat there, catching your breath, a thought began to form in your mind. Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason behind Geshu Lin’s relentless nature—something that drove him to push others and himself beyond their limits.

But for now, you allowed yourself a moment of rest. Perhaps you were just lucky to escape his wrath unscathed. And hopefully, that would be your last interaction with him. You hoped so. You couldn’t deal with this kind of stress and nervousness again in your life. No way. That fear of overstepping your boundaries to a general was too much for you. All you wanted was to heal everyone.

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