thedarkestrivernymph

[thedarkestrivernymph]

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Concept: (secretly Y!) Monster!Tribe Head Husband x f!Human! Tribe Head Wife

genres: angst, comfort, fluff

warnings: mentions of death, hinting at abuse, manipulation, blaming parents death on the reader, arranged marriage

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

Chapter I.

Every baby’s first cry is a fear defeated

—is a night terror that passed to give way to a new beauty in the chapter of one's life—however you weren't one of these baby’s.

You weren't adored and praised because you babbled incoherently or slobbered oh-so cutely over your apron while you were being fed. No, even as a child, you weren't innocent as a doe, you had sinned. You were born to a traitorous mother and father—to a pair that shouldn't have ever been. Century old hatred between two clashing tribes pumped through your veins and hexed you with a fate that was worse than death.

Your mother died. On the day of your birth you were immediately brandished with parricide; the crime of taking your own mother's life. No older than a few seconds—you had already become a demon that only could take and destroy everything sacred. So your father, a broken shell of a man, was unable to look in the face of the murderer of his wife and therefore left you at the hands of your grandparents, before he ultimately tumbled into his own demise.

Unnecessarily to mention that the parents who just recently lost their daughter to the spawn of the enemy, wouldn't take kindly to it—and ,well, they didn't.

So shunned and shamed—shaped by the icy cold hands of your second set of guardians, you were forcefully pushed into a mold of diamond, dazzlingly beautiful—and yet misleadingly so; you either fit or the seams holding you battered soul together would tear apart under the weight of expectations.

As the future head of the Xen clan, you weren't just a political figure and a pretty face—you were also a trained puppy, and a trained puppy, sat when told do.

But you didn't.

That's when the trouble started, as a teenager you would rip apart your expensive dresses, shred them to nothing but scraps of fabric like the wild dog you ought not to be—you weren't ladylike like your mother, but stubborn and brutish like your father, you were like them; the other tribe, beastly.

It didn't matter though, you were all they had left, so with sheer force they drew your restraints tighter until you couldn't even lift a finger without their permission. It was suffocating, as a child you had cried often, pleaded with the gods high above for answers— just why were you so hard to love?

Now, sitting with your tail tucked between your hinde legs—you sat as the puppy, the sophisticated and educated groomed dog, they had wished for and stared straight at the man, no, creature, they wed you off to.

He was large, larger than any man you had ever met, probably rivaling some dainty trees that were no older than a century, with branches reaching out but not quite yet—like the two heavy horns that sat atop his head, twisting out in two different directions with a fluidity in their static that reminded you of the curves of a marble vase. They were a pale, creamy colour—like bones of the deceased. Beneath them scales piled to flare out into large singular pieces of heavy flesh behind his head that was reminiscent of the hairstyle the men of your tribe wore proudly.

He was blue like the sea—at least you liked the sea.

“—two souls will become one. The spirits, the gods, the heavens they all watch over you, as you both enter a sacred bond, that cannot be unsealed—even in your next lives, you shall be entwined.” the shaman, a young blind woman, finished her speech, its absurdity almost condemnable—you didn't know a single thing about the looming man besides that he wasn't like you, yet your customs ordered that your souls would be stitched together for half an eternity.

“—come” his voice was a gentle breeze, startling so, as he suddenly spoke up—the wedding had ended, your grandparents stood probably off to the side—it was hard to make out through the fog that coated your brain fuzzy, as you were suddenly led out to breathe in the fresh seasalt that swirled around in the air.

You couldn't see a thing, it was the middle of the night afterall, all you could feel was the gentle weight of his hand on yours—the smooth glide of scales; different textured skin caressing yours. It didn't take long for you to be seated on the back of a bizarrely large creature, who you could only assume through it's slimy skin would resemble a frosh in broad daylight.

“Hold tight” he whispered with the same tone—stretching out a large clawed paw across your waist, positioning you to sit with your legs dangling on one side, the lengthy process of wrapping you in meter long golden cloth having left you practically immobile to spread your feet wide enough.

You screamed as the thing you rode on leaped off the ground for the first time, swearing you would fall and reach an unexpectedly quick end with a split head. The rest of the painfully long ride thankfully wasn't as turbulent, the creature seemed oddly attuned with your fear and became gentler in his behaviour.

Nevertheless the very first thing you did as he helped you descend was throw up, followed by being startled by the rest of his servants that followed on their frog-like creatures.

“Come, let's lay you down.” the words seemed to dance around your head, and as he picked you up with ease that felt unnatural and like it shouldn't be—you realized for the first time the accent drenching each of his words in syrupy sweetness.

The halls were long you noticed—then you noticed he had halls when you had lived in tents your entire life, startled by the sight of bamboo stretching out to create simplicity—yet beauty, you figured. Where he lived, was damp, humid, far deeper in the exotic foliage than you had ever dared to peer in, your homes were colder and you usually traveled along the seaside.

“There. Rest, ceçe.” he called you something you couldn't identify—probably of his own mother tongue. It wasn't until he laid you down onto the soft beds of fur hidden behind a thin layer of cotton—a bed specially made for you—that you realized that he was planning to leave you just like that.

“Wait—” your arm shot up, moving to latch onto one of his fingers—as long as your entire hand. “Don't leave. Please.” earlier you had worried about laying together with such a monster but now, in the dim candlelight he had lit, you realized he was more human than you initially assumed.

“Rest. You need it.” he insisted, soft grays filled with gentle trepidation, as if he worried not just about your wellbeing. “It's best if we stay not together. For now, ceçe.” there was this rumble in his chest—similar to how your pet tiger you had as a child purred when you scratched behind her ear. He already started prying your hand off and pulling away when you spoke up once more—”At least, at the very least, tell me what's ceçe?” you uttered, wanting to be let in to what felt like a intimate secret between him and for now his own heart.

He only smiled, scales shimmering with different shades of blues and violets, reflecting the warmth of the candle, as he pulled back to his full height, feather-light garments moving to fall over his wrists again. “Rest.” your newly wedded husband reaffirmed—with a single blow, the room was tinted in a familiar darkness and lulled exhaustion to take your soul to a temporary rest, before a new day would start, with new responsibilities and new possibilities.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Soft Yandere! Clan Leader x Wife!Reader

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

genre: fluff, comfort

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thedarkestrivernymph]

It's The Season Of The Witch!

Mean! Warlock x Witch! Reader

warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of ghosts, briefly mentioning virginity and its loss, degradation/friendly bullying

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

word count: 2148

The seasons changed—the greenery losing its special glimmer, fading into muted oranges, soft browns and warm reds, while the skies turned gray, swallowing up the world in clouds and starless nights.

It was biting cold again with your fingers cracking and popping as if they were crusted with frost, trembling as you pulled your scarf higher. As always your nose was buried in a book, squinting trying to make out the words swirling in front of your vision, sparking a buzzing and drumming in your temple.

“Mag’, does this make any sense to you? Here— use two wizard spoons of frog slime, three pines, a strand of gold, the tooth of a vampire and a pinch of cinnamon— do they think I am rich or sumthing? Besides what is a wizard spoon? What does the professor want from me, ugh!” you groaned, visibly agitated, trembling, even though you adored a woollen pullover and a thick fur blanket wrapped around your figure, your dorm was still biting cold—and the cause was clear; the broken window facing the courtyard of the most prestigious wizarding school in the nation “The thirteen wonders” after the thirteen base rules of being a witch.

Sighing you let the lid of the heavy book in your arms fall shut, allowing dust to blow at your face, the howling wind mocking your misery as chuckling reached your sensitive eardrums, you were certain that it was one of the many spirits haunting this school—they loved to humiliate and mock students whenever they could. God since the window broke the protective charm had been broken and some cheap duct tape, and an inexperienced witch such as yourself failed to fix it, which is why you had to dreadfully wait two weeks until it could be repaired.

“Mag—Mag! Magnus!” you called out again, huffing at the lack of response from your familiar, annoyed by his ignorance of you—as he did painfully often, tricking you, pranking you, jesting at your expense, sometimes you wondered if he was a fiend disguised as a friend.

Still no response, not even a soft flitter of paws across the old moaning tiles—nothing. Something hot and flashing suddenly cursed through you, a certain unease settling deep in you, it wasn't unusual for him to ignore you, yes, but you couldn't sense him, that was everything but normal. Rising to your feet ever so slowly, you were quick to grab your wand, fuzzy socks gliding over the floors. No one expect you was here—alright perhaps a few other students scattered around in different rooms all around the huge castle that was your school—yet no one in your year was present, no creaking of tiles, no thuds of footsteps, no laughter, no screams, no cries. Well it was to be expected, it was afterall autumn break, with Halloween just around the corner; a national holiday in the wizarding world. But with no place to go, you had been forced to stay here all alone—well with your familiar who now had suspiciously disappeared.

“Mag?” you called out again shakily, hot panic surging through your veins, face reddening as your heart threatened to burst out of your chest—there would be no one to hear you scream if something tragic had actually happened, no one to aid you in this wing of the building. Approaching the door to the hallway, you took another choked breath, lungs too deflated to properly fill up enough to avoid making your head all fuzzy. Clutching the iron doorknob, wand pointed sharply at the door, you ever so slowly, challenging a snail’s pace, twisted the handle and cracked a split of the door open to peek out with one eye. Judging it safe enough, you pushed the door open all the way, only to stagger the moment you were met with the sight of a stranger.

“Sup’ witchy.” exclaimed the tall shadowy figure of a man, dark locks trailed down his shoulders to his elbows—while his eyes were two piercing jewels of green, glimmering with the familiar silver of something devious in them, that you were certain you knew.

Nevertheless you shrieked-“Stay back!” and attempted to slam the door back in place, only for a large, clawed hand to forbid you from doing so. The corner of his plush lips curled into a toothy grin, pointed teeth showcasing in the display of mischief.

“Ya’re such an airhead, gosh. Were you fed marbles instead of peas as a kid? Why’d ya got that scowl on your face for? It’s me. Your Mag’.” he clicked his tongue in annoyance, an oddly shaped one at that, as was everything about him—more feline than human—but that wouldn't mean that menacing figure was actually your adorable Mag’, right? Magnus was a lithe black cat, with sleek sloped shoulders, piercing greens for eyes and a sharp tongue—he would never stop taunting you in your head. Well the stranger in front of you definitely had that in common with him.

You huffed, rolling your eyes, less defensive, more annoyed than anything, keeping your wand pointed at his chest as a not so subtle warning. “Yeah, so you're Mag’ huh? Newsflash you intruder, Mag’ is a cat that barely reaches up to my knee. If you wanted to lie, you could have at least claimed to be a human, not a cat! Now speak or I will hex your entire bloodline!” you growled lowly, trying out a tactic to intimidate the man clad in black in front of you, obviously a powerful wizard—powerful enough too see through your little guise.

“Oh, witchy. Amusing as always—ya really don't believe ya old ‘pal? I have been your familiar since seven full moons—and that's how you thank me? I am offended.” the man who claimed to be your familiar uttered, bulky arms easily peeling open the door, the rusty hinges crying out in pain as you stumbled back horror painting your face white as a sheet of paper.

“You're not Mag’ stop it! Get out! Right now! Or I will hex you! I am a powerful witch afterall—” his laughter cut you short, your display of bravery faltering as he pushed the wooden door gently close behind him, locking it, ensuring no one would disrupt the both of you. “A powerful witch? Sweety, you're everything but that. Ya are clumsy, forgetful, ditzy, naive, on the dumber side most definitely—” he listed off everything Mag’ usually teased you about, as malicious as the man in front of you, but—it couldn't be actually him, right?

“No—hey—wait, what? How do you know so much about me, you creep!” you demanded voice booming—not even the whistle of the breeze nor the usual giggles of ghosts long disintegrated into the air, only remnants remaining, could be heard—everything was dead silent, a gruesome foreshadowing along with the sick churn of your gut, screaming at your to run.

“Cuz’ I’m Mag’ witchy, duh. You're really dense sometimes y’know?” he chuckled, tilting his head to the side to stare at you as if you were the crazy one here.

“Then prove it! Tell me something only Mag’ could know!” you raised your wand higher, squinting, until your features morphed into a deep distrusting grimace, awaiting for him to speak up and prove himself a liar.

“Oh? Doll— ya really want me to dig up all the dirt I have on ya?” he cocked a brow up arrogantly, strong arms folded over his chest, shirt so tight it clung to each bump and dent of his muscular form.

“Alright, game’s on,” he grinned “Ya loathe your history teacher, you always call her an old hag, despite the fact that she's y’know, just thirty-two, but whatever witchy. And ya hate that one girl’s gut, the one two grades under you, just cuz’ she's got a picture perfect family. But actually her dad's an alcoholic and mommy’s got an twenty year old lover, but whatever dolly, unnecessary details, am I right?” he chuckled softly, the tone rich like velvet, pulling you under a spell, as you stumbled back, sinking onto your bed with your mouth agap, bewildered by just how much he knew.

He quirked a brow at you, staring at your wand still directed at him like an arrow ready to plunge into his blackened heart.

“Still not enough? Alright, anything for ya, doll,” he muttered, sighing as he looked down at you, seeing you sink into piles of furs and wools, decorated with autumn colours—which just fit you so fucking well, he had to bit down on the inside of his cheek “Ya hate grapefruits, but love anything with caramel. Every year on your birthday ya receive a sad little single letter from the orphanage. Cuz' of that—magic is ya obsession, ya strive to be perfect, am I right? And this fixation makes ya so fucking jealous of others—you hate a fuck ton of people, doll, slightly concerning, but nothing condemnable.” he was inching closer with each sentence, stalking closer like an animal ready to pounce on his prey—eyes flickering with something that caged your breath in your lungs.

“Ya kissed only one boy your entire life and get all skittish just at the thought of sex. Despite—ya still touch yourself, whenever your roommate brings over a boy to fuck, like the little fucking pervert you are? Ya dream of being robbed of your virginity, am I right? And doll, here I am, to do so, after hundreds of years of being caged in that awful body, I am finally free and the ditzy little witch that freed me is you, so let me show ya how grateful I can be.” he leaned down, hands splayed across the fur on both sides of your head, breathing into the shell of your ear, as one of his knees softly pressed into the ache between your thighs.

“C’mon let loose, your Mag’ will take care of ya.” honey dripped from his lips, making your head spin from the suffocation—robbed of air and space to breathe, feeling suddenly hot under all that itchy wool, your head was far too heavy to register all the new information rivaling in importance inside of it. So Mag was actually a powerful warlock and he had been hexed, but somehow you lifted that spell and now as a thank you, he wanted to what—fuck? Huh.

You could feel Mag or whatever his real name was lower himself, textured skin brushing against your cheek, while his sharp claws enclosed around your jaw keeping you in place—squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to ground yourself with the feeling of the wool beneath your fingertips, the soft mattress sinking from the weight of the two of you. So that was how you were going to lose your virginity? To a random warlock you had taken as your familiar—who even was he? The black-haired man definitely was your type, and getting your cherry popped by someone who knew you so well, felt sort of soothing, so perhaps this wasn't so bad.

You felt a playful nimble on your bottom lip, okay so this was it, he was starting now, you grimaced, puckering up your lips and readying yourself for a night full of passion.

Until you felt him shake—followed by deep rumbling laughter that ripped from his chest, boisterous and booming, clutching his stomach with one paw while he kept himself from falling onto you with the other as he slumped forward and over you. Prying your eyes open you stared at him perplexed, baffled by his sudden amusement, detecting twinkling droplets of tears rolling down his cheek from how hard he was wheezing.

“Eh— eh?” you blinked, once, then twice, then thrice, your mind blank.

“Witchy, ya're gold! Ya really believed I would ravish ya, huh? Comedy gold! I tell ya—” he couldn't contain his tears, gasping for air, tumbling over to sink into the spot on the bed next to you, the old construct creaking. “By Satan! Ya really are the most entertaining thing ever! I wonder if ya were just always this way or ya were dropped after your birth.” he joked, only slowly did his choking on his own spit die down, as he curled his hands beneath the wild curls that adored his head, staring at you, tilting his head again. “Or would ya actually want to?—”

“Shut up!” you screeched, red in the face, whacking over his devilishly handsome features with a pillow.

He laughed again—and so came the day to an end, with your new very human familiar having caused you a pair of beet red ears and a deep scowl.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Spooky Scary Skeleton!

Yandere! Jack Skellington x Gn! Reader

warnings: yandere themes, abduction, not accurate depictions of characters

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

“Oh my, Oh my! What do we have here? An earthling, here, in the land of shadows?” the fleeting sound of a man taunted, gravelly rumbling voice tinged with amusement as it rung deeply in your sensitive eardrums.

The night was one dangerous itself; gnarly shadowy figures dancing all around, as the breeze rustled the last leaves of autumn, creating a graveyards all across the forest grounds for them to rot on. Cries echoed—the laughter of foreign tongues cursing, while the wind was all time furious, his scream the most piercing as it traveled through the knobby branches intertwined into eachother.

“Who—who is there? Show yourself!” you demanded, voice swallowed by the cool of the night, silence quickly falling over you, hanging like a thick could over your head, as you frantically whipped your head around, squeezing the handle of your broken flashlight.

“If you don't—I will have you know that I own a weapon, and I am not afraid to use it!” you threatened whoever was toying with your sanity so deep in the woods, only the silver of the moon guided you through the maze of oddly shaped trees; crowns tilted downwards as if they themselves felt uneasy in the cold of the night.

“He, I would love to see you try, mortal.” the voice continued to your chip sanity away, his tone so rough and hoarse, as if the only air he breathed was smoke and he had forgotten he possessed a throat to growl through.

“I am serious, you sick fucking weirdo!—” you snarled, right before you felt twig snap beneath your shoe and the sudden jolt caused your foot to catch onto one of the many roots breaking through the earth’s crust like spidery legs. Your high-pitched terror rattled through the thicket, twisting yourself to the side, while squeezing your eyes shut as you prayed to not fall face-first into the dirt.

Yet you never felt the embrace of the lumpy ground, because something or rather someone was swifter than any human ought to be—with hands too lithe that they were poking the subtle flesh of your arms.

“Tsk, earthling, now look at you. So helpless, so mortal, so endearing. You're like a little fawn! Are you searching for the thrill of Halloween? Why else would a weak thing like you ever enter my lands.” the stranger rasped, purring the words, while he pressed you to himself—to a you who ripped open your eyes to stare at not a man, but a mask, or at least what you assumed to be one.

“Let go off me, you crazy fucker! I have got a life to live!—” you protested assuming the creature you were looking at, was some creep living out his fantasy of murdering on Halloween night as a cartoon character. However no matter how much you writhed, kicked and scratched his grip didn't falter, it didn't even ease.

The skull head tilted to the side, features twisting and moving around—morphing so smoothly as if this wasn't an animated mask some nerd had designed. You were sure of it, his towering height, the glow in his eyes and the odd skeleton hands, with his fingers curling around you like vines, were all just part of a costume.

Until you tried to kick him between his thighs and realized one thing; there wasn't anything soft down there—in fact there wasn't anything down there except bones to begin with.

You screamed and upon noticing Jack couldn't help but laugh boisterously. “Oh human! How fascinating creatures you are! What were you trying to do? Stick a hand through my hips? Is that a little hobby of yours? Such odd specimen.” he cooed, pinching your cheek before swiftly picking you up by the scruff and throwing you over his shoulder—and only then did you notice the little creatures all around you, hiding in the shadows, encircling you both, fascinated by the sight of you.

You finally realised—that you were no longer in the human world, that this guy wasn't just another costume but a real living, perhaps not breathing, skeleton—and the realisation choked you with fear, ensnaring your heart in a gilded cage of fear.

“Don't worry, I will take good care of you, afterall I am Jack Skellington! I look over the lands here—all these monsters are under my protection. And since you’re a mortal, a grave danger to all of us, you will have to stay here for quite some time, all alone with me.” he spoke overly energetic—until his voice faded out with his last words, something sinister tinging his mischievous tune.

Well he had always found humans just so fascinating, and after catching sight of you, a little fawn with bright eyes, a mundane life and odd customs, on another one of his missions of mischief in the human world, he had made sure that you would find your way into his, and therefore into his arms.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

The shadow in me

Yandere! Vampire x Depressed! Gn! Reader

warnings: suicidal thoughts, low self-worth, mentions of blood, kidnapping, unhinged vampire, cursing

genre: angst, comedy

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

Darkness. That’s always been your life. Consumed by a black fog penetratingly looming over your shoulders. The years just flew by and slipped from between your fingertips, escaped your grasp and suddenly everything spiralled into a mundane repition of the last day. When you were little you used to daydream about being royalty wearing big extravagant gowns with a darling prince head over heels for you.

Only that wasn’t the reality. It never would be. No matter how hard you tried, how much you did—it was never enough, you were never enough. You couldn’t do anything right. It wasn’t just that you were clumsy, you were downright unlucky, paying the wrong amount, missing the last bus home, being ignored even as you spoke up for the sixth time. It seemed as you were like a flower, rooted in place, with your fate carved out for you even before your birth. Perhaps that was just how it was meant to be, losing and losing again, while gaining so little to amount for it. Maybe you were just greedy, whining for something better when you yourself deserved so little. You weren’t sure anymore.

It was another mudane day, you just got off from your part-time work, exhaustion so strong you could feel the ache of it in your bones. You usually kept your head down while walking home, uninterested in anything other than the thought of your warm welcoming back and the silence needed to calm you down, however that day something was off.

Something icy run down your spine, eliciting a shudder from you as your skin prickled, goosebumps forming all over your arms. You hugged yourself, suddenly walking a pace faster, pulse picking up while frantically glancing around—no one, empty streets as far as the eye met with the single street lamp flickering right in front of your home. It was just a few blocks away, you could even see your family’s front porch, you didn’t need to panic,

you would be right there and—

The next thing you knew you were on the hard ground, poking into your spine, with your head drumming a painful beat. Squeezing your eyes open—you finally felt and saw it, or rather caught a glimpse of him, pressing his heavy weight onto you, fumbling with your collar and apologizing profously. “I am sorry—so sorry, little human. I just can’t do it anymore, just one ounce will be fine, or maybe a tea spoon of it? Fuck I can’t think straight—I hope the hypnosis didn’t wear of yet.”

You should have been creeped out, screamed for help, struggled, tried to kick him in his shins—but you did neither of those, you didn’t push the creep off of you because you were tried. Tired of it all, and now with your life threatened by someone insane talking about drinking the very essence of you, everything came crashing down onto you. You didn’t want this life, no one would. A slave to the system—a slave to bad habits, a slave to the guilt of living, trying to make it up to other people by crawling on your knees and hands in hopes that it would appease them into at least tolerating your existence. Never once had you been the first pick, always the second, always the loser. You hated it—no loathed it. Death, death was what you wanted.

You smiled. It was a loopsided grin directed at the stranger on top of you, letting the pain of the bite curse through you, forcing you to feel alive for the last few seconds of your miserable existence. “Your teeth are quiet sharp.” you mumbled as the frantic vampire just kept on draining you of your life force, bringing you closer to what you had desired, even if it was painful, making tears breach your lashline and escape down your cheeks.

Finally. Finally this was the end—you thought as your world faded into nothingness, only to return the next day.

“H-Hey, you hearin’ me? Satan—I am so sorry!” someone mumbled, as you were gently awoken by someone caressing your hair like your mother had done when you were a child how much you missed those times and how wonderful soft this bed was, was this truly how heaven felt like? Then what was this buzzing pain though—

Wait a minute. You shot up, wide eyed, with an ache in your bandaged neck. “Ha—what?” Right in front of you stood the creep from last night, anxiously shaking as he suddenly pulled you into a brone crushing hug only to release you seconds later. “I am sorry human! I didn’t think I would take that much—” he continued rambling and then you finally saw where you were. Furniture from a hundred years ago, dark velvets and rich reds, with rotten roses laying on the foot of your king-sized bed, ha. “What—what the fuck?” you croaked out, voice hoarse as you attempted at pushing away to rise to your feet, man had you been just kidnapped, big yikes. “Look—I am not good for ransom. I won’t make a lot and this is too fancy for a kidnapee.” you stated, pointing at the room. “So let me go. Because you haven’t killed me, I gotta get back to my duties.”

Silence. Only two large red orbs stared at you, snow white curls trickling down his shoulders, framing a nearly perfect face, fair sharp features. “So you aren’t scared of me?” the creepy dude, you now realized was at least a foot taller than you questioned, his lanky form clad in a fine suit—he fit right in with the decor of his home. You shook your head, standing to look him straight in the eye. “You’re just a creep with some weird blood fetish, didn’t even kill me. So why should I?” you grumbled, now pinching your temples. “Look I have a job unlike you, which I have to return to and—”

“Marry me” he fell to his knees, sliding a fat diamond heirloom ring on your finger, staring at you as if you were the sun to his moon, the lost fragment of his soul, his one and only love.

“Wait-What?! Hey stop that! Stop licking my fingers! Hey what the fuck—!”

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Touchy Touch

Obsessed!Bf x Chubby!Gn!Reader

genre: fluff, crack

“Darling c’mon! Let me touch the pudge.” he groaned making creepy grabby motions in the air as if he was some sicko from a movie running behind you, while making sounds like a zombie, roaring, grunting and panting.

“Please..” the blonde begged pathetically, word stretched out trying to make you laugh and reveal your hiding spot with his sluggish speech. “Just one time, please? I just want to feel heaven just one time.” he began chanting, and you couldn't hold your laughter in anymore and before you knew it he was on you kneading your belly as if he was a cat making biscuits on their favourite human, because he kind of was. His eyelids felt heavy and suddenly even after your protests and groans he let his head fall on your stomach, burying himself in the softness of it. “That's the good stuff.” he said, sniffing in deeply before sighing in bliss, relaxing against you with soft purrs. “That's life, babe, the good life.” he mumbled before falling into a slumber onto you, as if you both weren't on the floor, while the horror movie continued to play in the background. You caved in to your fate, sigh, that was just your lover to you, a hyperactive lovesick puppy, the man of your dreams.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Monster

Heian period!Sukuna x fem!Reader

warnings: heavy angst, blood, gore, misogynistic thinking

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

You would do anything.

You're begging, crying, pleading, doing everything in your power to showcase your genuine obedience, to prove yourself to be a truly spineless bundle of nerves, cowering at his feet. Hoping and praying he will relent that he isn't such a grotesque monster, that he just isn't a hollow black hole consuming everything only to spit it out foul and rotten.

But he is. And you know that he is.

That's why your begging wasn't enough, nothing was, nor ever would be enough for him, because human emotions were fickle, to be played and abused to his own enjoyment.

So he did what he did best, being a monster.

Flicking his wrist he sealed the fate of the only thing dear to you, ripping it all away from you in just one nanosecond.

He didn't even allow screams to ripple from her throat, as he slashed her fragile body in half, letting crimson paint your lap, soaking your nightgown in this ugly despicable red that painted you like a warning.

A warning.

That was what this was.

He had ended the life of the crying and screaming little bundle of joy, so oblivious to everything, innocent with big pooling eyes that could have reflected the stars, as a warning.

Sukuna had ended your daughter's life to prove a point.

To warn you to bear him a boy or your limps were the next to be snapped in half, with your gaze as bleary as hers.

Silence engulfed you, a painful agonizing one.

The room already reeked of blood—of that metallic note, and sweat, because just hours prior, you were in the process of pushing her out of your womb, eager to already welcome your little darling into the world, you were too blinded by your own eagerness to embrace her, that you failed to see the truth.

He didn't even allow her to suckle on your breast, to taste her first meal out of the safe heaven that was your belly, to gaze upon you with heavy eyelids and sticky lashes, all weary and exhausted, coming to find rest against your soothing heartbeat.

Her skin was still an odd colour, bright and vivid, with her head shaped like a cone, alien-like and yet so familiar, he hadn't even allowed her to adjust to her new life, hadn't allowed her anything.

He robbed your daughter of everything there could be to be robbed of, her first taste of milk, of water, of food, her first word, first time walking, first time feeling the sun graze her features, first time making friends, first love, first heartbreak, first time experiencing a relationship, marriage, perhaps even her first time of being a mother herself— and all you could do was only cower and mourn, fat tears running down your face, sweat-covered, cradling what remained of her.

Sukuna had robbed her, he robbed her and you had been powerless to go against him.

What a fool you had been to be excited, to feel joy, fantasizing about being a happy family, blissfully ignorant about the fact that he was a lunatic.

You had failed her.

All you could do was regret ever allowing her to escape the safety of your womb. You should have kept her inside, safe, away from the monster hovering above you, his sheer size casting a shadow on the little heap of misery you were on the floor.

“That will teach you.” Sukuna exclaimed, as if it was your fault and he was in the right. Well truth be told it was, it was your fault for lying to yourself that he wouldn't be cruel to you, or to his own flesh and blood. It was your fault for ever seeing him as a man instead of the abomination he was, it was your fault.

“We will try again. This time I know you won't disappoint me.” he uttered, so devoid of remorse, of any ounce of guilt, as if he had a clean conscious. All you felt emitting from him was endless coldness, an icy flood threatening to drown you beneath its strength. He had swallowed you whole, and allowed you to wallow in an illusion, all up until this point, he took off the mask off—only he never wore a façade, you were just too blinded by your own delusions to take notice of his true nature.

He didn't even spare you another glance, neither caring for the limp body of his daughter in your arms, her body sliced clean in two— nor the state you were in, exhausted, tired and just having witnessed something so soul-crushing, fom which you knew you could never recover from.

He just didn't care, you were only a body, a means to an end, another piece of meat that would grant him his wish for a male heir—and if you didn't he would just discard of you like you were nothing but a lamb to be slaughtered.

So it wasn't unsurprising, nevertheless did it only plunge the knife deeper and twist it as he spun on his sole, turning away, leaving you there all by yourself, letting maids rush in through the door, causing the world around you to halt and fall into an inescapable endless silence as your gaze focused solely on him.

They were all fussing over you, one more worried than the other but all you could do was blankly stare at his back that was becoming smaller and smaller as he further moved away, descended away from the crime he just committed, only if it was the King of Curses, it wasn't a crime, but god-given and to be accepted, it was the truth he would force down everybody's throats.

And in that exact moment that's when you felt it for the first time.

Such a raging fire clawing up your insides, squeezing your heart, that you might have recoiled from the intensity in any other situation, but not in this moment, no. You embraced the flames, let the thirst for revenge, for vengeance, swallow you whole and hopefully when you burned enough, it would spit you out as a changed woman, ready to gift Sukuna his heir he desired so dearly, only to meet death in the hands of his own flesh and blood.

Because you would do anything for your little bundle of joy.

You would do anything.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Comfort

pairing: toji x f!reader, warning: body image, weight, suggestive at the end, enjoy

“Woman—” he groaned, rubbing your back in feigned annoyance. He was worried, to say the least, since you came home you didn't spare him a glance, stubbornly burying yourself into your bed, stuffing a pillow between your arms and shoving your face into the softness of the filling.

“C’mon—you can't sulk forever. Talk to me. What did I fuck up this time?” Toji sighed in frustration, his brows knitted together in visible agitation, tired of trying to pry the truth out of you for the last thirty minutes.

But you just wouldn't budge. He grunted. You were so damn stubborn sometimes that it both infuriated him yet concerned him, making his hard shell crack to reveal vulnerability beneath.

“Baby—Baby, fuck, talk to me please. I am going crazy over here.” your partner pleaded for the nth time tonight, yet with no response other than soft sniffling. Now he couldn't wait any longer, big brawny hands clutching your shoulders to forcefully turn you around like a puppet, facing him.

“Baby you cryin’. What happened—goddamn what is it?” he urged, brows further knitting together, staring at the pillow you clung to hiding your face. “Oh c’mon!” he hissed, prying the pillow out of your arms and throwing it onto the floor in a fit of pent-up aggression only to immediately soften as he was met with your puffy teary-eyed sulking.

Cupping your cheeks in calloused hands he brought you closer to him, whispering, still desperate to figure out what got you in such a bad mood. “Baby—is it work? Did someone do something to you?” black orbs darkened further, something menacing appearing on the face of your boyfriend, something akin to bloodlust.

Finally. Fucking finally you opened your mouth, smacking your lips together between choked sobs. “Toji—stop—it’s not that.” you sputtered, hiccuping from all the crying, fat tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

“Then what is it—baby—fuck just talk to me.” he breathed against your face, genuine concern clear in the glint of his eyes. You could feel the tremor in his hands, practically shaking you with him.

You bit down onto your bottom lip, staring up from beneath wet lashes, before finally, after a small eternity, confessing to what got you in this state.

“Toji—did I get fat?”

He stared—hard at you, unsure if he should laugh or cry that you were this upset over whether you gained a pound or two.

“Baby—what? All this about—that?” he tried, really tried not to laugh, but he couldn't help it, letting out a chuckle which only made you more upset, curling into yourself and pulling the covers over your head.

“Stop actin’ like that c’mon, don't be a brat, pretty.” he muttered between chuckles, easily peeling off the covers from you before pulling you into a big hug.

Both his arms embraced you, tightly, nearly bone-crushing, one hand rubbing your back in circle motions the other cradled your head.

“You're gorgeous y’know that? So fucking beautiful my eyes hurt when I look at you, pretty. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky—like damn you’re perfect.” he whispered into your ear, rocking you gently back and forth—you could feel every breath of his, the warmth of his skin, as he caged you in his arms in a protective manner.

“But Toji you didn't answer—” you tried to protest with a quivering bottom lip, yet were shut off by him.

“Sh, Sh—Baby I don't need to answer that. I already told you, you're divine. What does it matter if you're a few pounds heavier? You're my woman, I love you no matter what. Besides—” mischief played into his tone as he suddenly slapped your ass, eliciting a gasp from you.

“I like you fuller, gives me something more to grab on when I have you bend over for me.” he chuckled gravelly into your ear—making your cheeks flush for an entirely different reason now.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Power

Yandere!Noble x Gn!Servant!Reader

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

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

You were convinced you were born unlucky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was until that fateful day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he lunged.

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

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

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

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

Your escape was the trigger.

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

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

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

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

Because born unlucky stays unlucky.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Caught

Yandere!Demon x Gn!HauntedReader

warnings: mentions of bullying, sleep paralysis, mentions of hallucinations, paranoia, drugging, attempted kidnapping, attempted murder, murder, gore, death

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

Slender gnarly hands slithered over your exposed skin, curling around your throat, squeezing so tightly that black spots floated around your vision.

You were being chocked.

A silent scream was caged in your throat, while your eyes ripped wide open and death was awaiting you, and you couldn't do a single thing other than stare into two large orbs of never ending black depth.

This was your final moment, the last seconds on earth, you had to do something, anything or else you were going to die—

Or were you?

Hiccuping and gasping you awoke to your sheets drenched in sweat, trembling all over with the sensations of needles pricking your limps, all of them heavy and uncomfortable.

You were always a weird kid, since childhood to be precise. You see things that are not there, feel things that shouldn't be able to be felt and hear whispers in the dead of night. You know of things that you should not know of, things that no one else has discovered yet.

Groaning you drag yourself up, swinging one leg over the other, ascending to your numb feet, barely catching yourself before you fall down again. It's horrible, each morning you awake to a body exhausted and aged, as if you were never granted rest.

Another day of your boring job, simmering away in an office, an occupation you loathe, with coworkers regarding you with the same disturbed glances and hushed whispers that have haunted you your whole life.

Perhaps you may feel strongly, stronger than any other person in the room, but they can sense it, the air of animosity around you. That cursed energy emitting from you.

Maybe that's why every single man you were interested in, killed himself after the very first date.

The hours in the office rolled around painstakingly slowly, yet somehow the seconds faded into minutes and then into hours. You were used to the lingering judgement around you, that none of your colleagues meant it when they smiled at you waving you goodbye as you finished for the day, yet what you weren't used to was for him.

He, your office crush, to approach you.

“Good work today.” he mentioned casually, dropping praises onto you as if you were a golden hen instead of the mascot for all things depressing. You knew what they whispered behind your back, how unbearably edgy you were.

“Uh, Thanks.” you sputtered overwhelmed by the sudden attention, which wasn't unwelcomed by any means but definitely alarming. Alarming in that sense that you now feared for this man’s life.

“Would you like to join us? We’re going out to eat at the new Italian. Might be fun.” he offered lightheartedly with the same picture perfect smile that you fell for.

Instead of joy, you felt your fear now unfolding infront of your very eyes. You just couldn't allow him to also commit the same mistake as all the others. So you flashed him an anxious smile, acting as if you were oh-so busy, apologizing profusely and thanking him.

Yet he was more stubborn than you initially assumed.

“It's really not that expensive if that's what you're worried about! And the food is great. Besides I think it wouldn't be so bad if you opened up more, would make you certainly more popular among our colleagues!” he exclaimed energetically, overly confident, with such a glimmer in his eyes as if he knew, knew about those gnarly fingers that kept trying to choke you. You shook your head at yourself, you were succumbing to paranoia again, this had to stop besides he was right though, you needed to at least try to make this better for you, and it wasn't a date anyways.

So it was win-win, right?

That's at least what you had hoped for. And yet it turned out yo be a disaster. Their burning gazes never leaving you, so penetrating with unfiltered judgement bordering on almost hatred, you couldn't stand it.

Admittedly as the night progressed and you after you managed to pull yourself together after a mini meltdown in the bathroom did things starten to loosen up, well your colleagues certainly did through the help of alcohol. So you started to be drowned in the mass of boisterous laughter and messy gossiping, making you finally stop sticking out like a sore thumb.

Perfect that's what he wanted.

While everyone was too occupied, it was easy to watch you in silence, face a perfect facade, he knew you, that knew the moment you staggered, blinking slowly.

“Hey—everything okay?” asked one of your colleagues who was intimidated by you, yes, but not heartless enough to not notice the odd way your eyes moved, pupils dilating and shrinking, while you felt fuzzy all over, as if you were the one that chugged two beers instead of her.

Before you could even answer, your colleague who had been so kind to invite you jumped up in concern. Worry lacing his tone as he suddenly laid his palm flat against your forehead, startling you with the sudden intimate gesture.

“Are you sick? I wouldn't have suggested you join us if I knew you were sick.” he muttered seemingly more to himself than you, while all you could do was watch in silence, your voice refusing to work no matter how hard you tried.

From then on it was all a blur, you heard all of the noise at once, everything overwhelming and overly stimulating your senses as a arm was draped over your waist, squeezing your midrift slightly as the restaurant faded into nothingness.

There was something like a breeze softly tickling your nape, no, it was someone breathing down your back—it was him, you made out, the colleague who was guiding you to his car.

“Don't worry.” you felt something wet against your neck, body so numb you were uncertain how you were even able to walk. “I will be gentle.” he breathed into your ear, reminding you of same haunting voices that whispered into your ear every night.

You didn't even understand what was happening, his words failing to properly register into your mind, as he dragged you into his car, placing you in the passenger seat like a ragdoll while you couldn't even keep your head upright.

There was only this silent scream deeply plunged in your chest, some sort of instinctive panic, that tried to wake your body up, but nothing, you could only sit there trying to fight off sleep as the engine started.

“Took some time.” he groaned, starting to laugh. It wasn't a laugh you ever heard from him before. That laugh was unhinged, squeaky and something you would hear from a killer in a horror movie.

“Y’know how hard it was to get my fingers on that drug? Phew! Took ages to be discreet! But it worked! God it worked!” he laughed, his tone starting to sound like nails scratching against those green boards you saw in school.

“Fuck—you’re a real weirdo but so hot, god! No one would miss you anyways—easy. And you're just so dumb too! You didn't even think twice about trusting me—or well you didn't have another choice with how drugged you are right now!” you felt your chest tighten, thoughts muddled yet one was clear, concreted in the forefront of your mind—that you had to find a way to escape.

And that opportunity presented itself to you so swiftly, so brashly and so painfully you regretted wishing for it.

You couldn't even make out what occurred, only the sudden flickering of lights, something indescribably loud ringing in your ears, making you want to claw your eardrums out and before you realized it the car tumbled over and crashed.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in Breathe out—

For a moment there was only this ringing, similar to that of a buzzing of a phone, before you glanced over at what remained of you colleague; a pulp of red, raw flesh.

You gagged, but before you could lose yourself in a sea of despair you felt slender, gnarly, icy cold fingers caress your cheek.

“You're mine, human.”

it was an omnipresent voice, words not uttered but received by you nevertheless.

Cursed with the gift of knowing things others couldn't, you were also cursed with living with the owner of those gnarly fingers that gently wrapped around your throat squeezing so tightly until peace crept inside every nook and cranny of your brain, lulling your eyes back into your skull.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Masterlist

If you're interested in more yandere Oneshots, I actually have a collection of them on Wattpad:

Yandere! Short Story Collection

Oneshots:

Infatuation

Yandere! Highschool Sweetheart is still undeniably infatuated with you

Betrayal

Yandere! Ex longs to feel your touch again, so what better than to murder for his dear?

Death

Yandere! Kidnapper is so concerned about your suicidal tendencies that he just becomes more deranged than he already was

Burn

Yandere! Husband that is so obsessed with the thought of you being only his that he doesn't stop at anything

Caught

Yandere! Demon who is more dangerous than simply being a nightmare

Power

Yandere! Noble swears he will never let you escape his grasp

The shadow in me

Yandere! Vampire falling for a depressed mortal

Soft Yandere! Clan Leader x Wife!Reader

Obsessed! Clan Leader comforting you, his lovely wife, on your first night together

Jjk x reader:

Comfort: Toji x reader

Monster: Heian period!Sukuna x fem!Reader

Other fandoms:

The nightmare before Christmas:

Spooky Scary Skeleton!: Y! Jack Skellington x Reader

Drabbles:

yandere!SeaMonster x nymph!Reader

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Burn

Yandere!Husband x gn!Reader

warnings: abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, manipulative tendencies, gaslighting, murder, gore

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

It burns, so agonizingly much, that uncertainty about this whole ordeal crept up your spine and settled in your chest.

Was this the right thing to do? To flee? It echoed in the emptiness that took over your head. It was perplexing and uncomfortable. You shouldn't feel empathy for him. He was crazy, deranged! Gone, a maniac, a bastard—

But maybe he was innocent and you were running away from the ghosts hunting you.

He was all that was left of your family. You didn't want to do this, you wanted him with you, loving and sweet, but it seemed that fate had different plans for the two of you. It seems that fate didn't favour you.

He had wormed himself into your life—then into your sacred family bonds, destroying what was already fragile. The mask he wore was that of a kindred spirit that sought for love, yet you never knew better than to believe the artificially crafted facade.

Prior he was an orphan, abandoned by his mother at six, which admittedly tugged at your heartstrings, even more so after learning the horrible foster parents, which was followed by the straight up ignorant adoptive family that took him in only for prestige matters.

So it wasn't that you didn't understand his desire for family, and you were even happy for him! Glad he found love in yours, yet all your hopeful dreams of finally peace settling in had vanished the moment the first of your relatives cut you off. Then a second followed, a third, a fourth until even your mom shunned you, refusing to see you any longer. They absolutely adored your husband but hated your guts.

However he didn't seem to hold the same adoration for them, no, he didn't even possess an ounce of sympathy with them as he watched them turn to ashes Infront of his very own eyes, laughing, like the maniac he was.

“Love!” he would jump up and down you remembered, seemingly over the moon by your dad praising him or your sister gifting him something meaningless as a cookie.

After he had burned down everything holy to you, he had just slipped back into your shared bed, stinking horribly of that kind of smell that reached your nose every time you left your omelette too long on the stove.

You hadn't understood then, but you did now, that that smell was foreshadowing to the petrifying news that had reached you the next day.

Everything spiralled out of your control after that day. You were completely scattered, forgetful, permanently teary-eyed, clumsy and visibly distraught.

So it started with your inability to hold up your job, which made him offer you to stay at home, while he financed you both. He was so devilishly sweet, messaging your shoulders when you were completely stiff, guiding you through breakdowns, cooking for you, feeding you. You hadn't know how you got so lucky with him.

However things became odd quickly, your friends seemed to disappear one by one, their numbers blocked, deleted or erased from existence. You were unbelievably mad, was this because of your new miserable state—the friends that swore to go through thick and thin with you, leaving you in your most vulnerable times—how could they!

Although you were burning with anger, even that was quickly forgotten thanks to him. He was your absolute everything, your entire world and you were much obviously his. You two were a match made in heaven—or at least that's what you believed until that one phone call.

“Stacey?—”

“You have to get out of there! He isn't what he seems to be— your husband, he’s crazy! He threatened me! If I didn't stop being in contact with you then he would have also murdered me like he did with your family—” your heard your friend over the phone, voice unusually frail, breaths laboured with sniffling in the background.

Your heart leaped in your chest at the sound of her frantic claims, completely unbelievable and baffling, even if your trust for her had completely evaporated, uncertainty still poisoned you and infiltrated your mind like a sickness.

Nevertheless you did end the call before she could spew anymore nonsense, sealing her terrible fate, because unbeknownst to you, that was the last time she would ever talk to anyone.

Things didn't feel normal anymore after that, suspiciousness spread through you, gnawing at your already highly sensitive nerves, you instability just making you waver back and forth from completely denying the unapparent truth and panicking that perhaps it was true. She was your friend for years after all, what reason did she have to lie?

That was until you found Stacey’s childhood diary in his possession with dried splatter of blood decorating it—as if this wasn't terrifying enough what met you on the inside made you drop the book, completely mortified and stunned into silence.

Every entry that contained your name scribbled over with hearts, anything that had to do with you underlined, things that you liked circled in like a madman.

You were terrified to say the least—she was right, she was right and you didn't believe her.

Tears welled up in your eyes and before you knew it, your feet carried you out of your shared home, still in your PJ's with slippers adorning your feet.

Which leads to this moment in the present.

Unfortunately for you, he had knowingly bought a house with your inheritance, in the middle of nowhere. You were stumbling over twigs, leaves crushing beneath your weight and before you knew it, you were running.

Yet you did forget one crucial aspect—running didn't help when he could track you down with the GPS clipped under your skin so subtly you didn't even realise he had done so.

Bang.

Pain shot through your thigh, an excruciating amount, making you instantly stumble, before tumbling down, face first into the wet earth, crying out in pain.

Blood seeped out from where he shot you, painting the forest floor a warning crimson. You tried to crawl, you attempted to flee, but all was for nothing, no one and nothing could have tear you two apart, even if it was you.

Fingers roughly whipped your head back, scalp burning from the abuse.

“There you are, love.” he spat out, the familiar warmth gone replaced by an indefinite disdain.

“You saw it, huh? You learned about everything I did for you and that's how you thank me? By running away just cuz’ I committed some petty crimes?” he shook your head violently, before shoving your face into the mud. Before he ripped your head out of the earth, starting to fall into a pattern, repeating it over and over again till your vision faded with only his words ringing into your ears, as blood ran down your presumably broken nose, eyes swelling with unshed tears of a gruesome future that awaited you.

“You're weak. And dumb. But don't you worry, I will take care of you. I will love you, look after you, clean up each mess you make, be there to rock you back and forth when you have one of your meltdowns again. So don't worry your stupid little head about anything,

just trust me, love.”

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Death

Yandere!Kidnapper x f!Reader

warnings: fanatic behaviour, kidnapping, unreliable narrator—split perspectives—contradictions, mentions of self-harm, suicidal tendencies, mentions of sexual topics, touching without consent, heavy religious themes, yandere has taken somewhat the role of a caretaker, forced infantilization

Note: Read at your own risk tbh, I perceive this story as pretty disturbing, however if you can handle heavy topics, then enjoy. :)

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

He was righteous, has been all his life, or well, had been until he met you.

There just wasn't a way to stop himself, no, to stop the demons haunting him from taking you in his grasp, imprisoning you in his humble home.

Perhaps he was doing you a favour? Chaining you to the bed placed in his basement just for you, white ruffles decorating the sides of the countless pillows and the duvet cover. Everything pristinely white—linen, handpicked for you.

He even dusted it and cleaned it, installed an old-school TV and even got you coloured pencils and endless amounts of paper of all kind!

And it all was just for you. How romantic, don't you think?

Your captor was nice—he was soft, even his edges didn't hurt you. He never raised his voice, couldn't even imagine hurting you, even if it was just a hair on your precious head.

You were his entire life. His gift from God himself.

However he quickly realised that you didn't quite share his opinion. You weren't horribly hostile, tried to appease him in fear of his sometimes rash and almost fanatic behaviour, fearing one day he might just flip the switch and obsess over breaking a bone in your body, yet you never were overly soft. There was this wall between you two that bugged him greatly, but he just didn't know how to destroy it.

To top it off, you feared death at his hands, at first. However as days faded into weeks and then into months—and before you knew it a year had passed with no one succeeding in rescuing you from the obsessive stalker clinging to you—you started fearing a life with this man.

It started off with small things, like you eating less, your leftovers slowly increasing in size or you would leave the paper completely blank instead of scribbling something onto it.

Until it started affecting other areas of your very limited life like you starting to lose interest in watching TV, the only luxury that connected you to the outer world. Until that penetrating dark cloud hanging over your head affected you more severely, so much so, that it worried him.

You his sacred bride losing your excitement for life was terrifying. He couldn't imagine a life without you—he refused to even think about it, the sheer thought was too painful.

You refused to eat, laid around all day, didn't even fidget when he would not so subtly try to seduce you. Well he was a kidnapper, but he would never force you to spread your legs for him! So he was still waiting for your heart to warm up to him, however instead of warming up, you started fading away from his grasp.

It was so petrifying, so much so that he started asking his pastor for help, then his colleagues—he even searched through the internet at the computer of his local library!

Depression.

in big bold letters was what popped up first, a page dedicated to mental health. He was mortified reading through everything, the symptoms and what it could possibly lead to. Death. The word daunted him and haunted him.

He rushed home, your captor breaking out in a cold sweat, only experiencing sweet relief seeing you curled up beneath the covers, pale in the face as always.

Days have passed and now he clung to you like glue. “Sweetheart—Sweetheart you have to eat!” he whined, the spoon once more missing your mouth as you twisted your head away. He bound you to the chair to keep you still and yet you kept on avoiding his attempts at feeding you.

“Say Ahh love! C’mon for me! Be good? Please, sweetheart!” he pleaded and begged to no avail, you gazed at him empty-eyed and shook your head. That was when he finally caught sight of the red streaks down your neck and collarbone.

At first he thought it was an allergic reaction, then he remembered you hadn't consumed anything but water in the last few days. Then with a glance down at your shaking fingers, feeling over the broken and bloodied nails he realised.

Your own nails. You hurt yourself with your own nails.

He lost it. The bowl of boiling hot soup landed on the ground, porcelain shattering as he lunged forward, grasping your hair and tilting your head back to gauge the damage to your holy skin.

“How could you?—” he spat in revulsion, face mirroring the rage that was consuming him inside, yet he never could be mad at you for long.

“Sweetie—Sweetheart—” your kidnapper's voice faltered, face pulled into a grimace, he let go of your hair, easing the sting of your scalp, sinking to his knees in front of you, pleading with his eyes.

“Please talk to me baby, please tell me what's wrong. Is it the TV? I can buy you a new one. Do you want new pencils? Do you want crayons? Maybe watercolour? I can get you new clothes if that is the problem!— Sweetheart please, please talk to me.” he broke down, fat tears running down his cheeks, pathetically clinging to one of your calves, licking a strip up your knee.

“Baby—baby.” he whimpered, crying into your two knees, fingers now grasping your lap in such desperation that if it wasn't the man that kept you captive you might have felt more sympathy for him. It wasn't as if you hadn't considered just carving in by now and accepting him as the person that would be beside you till death, yet the thought hurt. It dug a hole in your heart and left you wanting to pluck each individual hair follicle out of your scalp.

You just couldn't bear stand his constant whining and begging, humping you dry from behind like a dog when he thought you were deep asleep, preaching that he was a devoted believer to god, when he had kidnapped you, forced you down here, kept you still chained up, with only limited times when you could use the restroom and then always with the door a split open to ensure you didn't flee from the narrow window placed over the toilet. Showering was even worse, he would insist on staying, waiting behind the shower curtain, eyeing your shadow. When you would step out he would be bright red, averting his eyes and adjusting himself before finally draping a towel over you that always managed to smell like his musk. It was disgusting.

Even though he claimed that he would never hurt you, he had overly violent episodes, where he would just throw things around, rip up the extensive pages upon pages of your emotional rant, threaten you with a broken glass bottle, before always falling to his knees, crawling on the floor begging and pleading for forgiveness.

All in all he was a walking contradiction and never could be trusted. So wasn't it clear why you would prefer death over being stuck with the constant fear of what's to come?

“Baby” he whined incessantly, clinging to you like a lifeline. Bastard. You kept on ignoring him. It wasn't just this day, but all the following days, opting to just leave yourself to rot away.

However it seems you didn't calculate that he was so transfixed with you, that he would protect you from anything and anyone, even if that someone was yourself.

“Sweetie” he whispered oh-so sweetly into the shell of your ear, still weary from your restlessness the night prior, you didn't even want to turn in your bed to face him. Big mistake.

Before you could see it, you felt it. Fingers grasped your jaw, some sort of fabric draped over the lower half of your face, a strong scent engulfing you all while he rocked your head back and forth, stroking your hair lovingly.

When you woke up, unbeknownst to you, you succeeded in losing all your privileges.

“Sweetheart! How are you feeling?” he chirped, the basement now completely padded, decorated in pink, filled with toys and plushies. That wasn't all—because you regretted looking down.

A diaper. You were wearing a diaper. You breath staggered, horror written across your features.

He snickered, stepping closer to you, kneeling down to your level on the floor. “Sorry Sweetheart, but— you just wouldn't listen to me. You were starving yourself! It was obvious that no one ever taught you properly. You didn't receive proper parental care—they didn't care for you enough, they didn't love you as I do. So I am just going to start from zero and reteach you everything! How does that sound? Good right? You will love it!” he cupped your wet cheeks, the real nightmare starting just now, with the prospect of being saved already having slipped from your mind, understanding that this hell was your new reality.

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your scalp as he whispered something so gut-wrenching you hoped that he would swallow his own tongue and choke on it.

“Cuz’ Sweetheart I gotta teach you real good, so when we get our own baby you will be a good mother, yeah? A great mother! The best mother!”

he laughed.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Betrayal

Yandere!Ex x f!Reader

warnings: gore, includes slight religious themes

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

It hurt. Terribly so. From the tip of his nose to the end of his toes, it burned. His entire being was set aflame through one miniscule act.

He had witnessed the unthinkable; you in the arms of another. The pet he had so carefully tamed, chained to him, made you dependent, cut off everyone and everything to keep you in his grasp. You had fled.

Not only did you escape the golden cage he had build for you, break off his hold on your psyche, but you also found new love.

Love.

Just the thought of it made his stomach churn in repulsion. It was vile of you to claim to have found something so sacred in someone else besides him. It offended him.

How could you? How dare you? After everything he had done for you, you ran away, humiliated him, undermined his efforts—all for what?

For this pathetic excuse of a man that couldn't even contain his tears as he plucked out his nails from their nailbeds as if they were weeds hidden between grass?

He admittedly couldn't contain a giggle as that scum twisted and squirmed, trying to worm himself out of the chair he had strapped him to, begging and pleading with fat tears in his wet eyes.

The way he so easily carved in, accepting defeat instantaneously, not even arguing about seeing you anymore, valuing his life over you. Pathetic.

He would die for you thousands of deaths only to claim you his, yet this man, this creature, that couldn't even care that much about you to die for your name and honour, was your lover?

Really dear?

He laughed as his corpse dropped to the ground with a thud, the scream still ringing in his ears, the fresh scent of blood wafting through the air, caressing his nerves and easing them.

“Don't worry my little dear.” he crouched down besides the head of your former lover, fingers hovering above his eye sockets. “I will be your salvation once again. I will show you the light—the righteous way. We're Adam and Eve after all, dear, the only man and woman, no one else—no one else matters.” he rambled as he brutally forced his fingers into the squishiness, poking out the very eyes that had dared to look at you.

Because no one, no one else besides him, was allowed to bask in the serenity that was you.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Infatuation

Yandere!Highschool Sweetheart x gn!Reader

warnings: gore, unreliable narrator

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

It was sickly, well almost. Or perhaps it was already dangerous and he just missed the last opportunity to clutch onto his fading sanity like a lifeline.

He genuinely didn't know. What he did know was that you, adorable, sweet, pristine,angelic, beautiful, ravishing, mystic, alluring, dazzling, misleading, annoying, irritating, a grotesque form of living had dared to reject him not once, but twice.

What did you mean by you didn't love him anymore—that he was a toxic prick?

He wasn't, he swore! He just couldn't help but keep you all to himself. You were highschool sweethearts after all, no one should have the balls to pick your relationship apart, and yet you did, you dissected the dynamic of your relationship, questioned if it was healthy for the both of you, even going as far as questioning if he was genuine with his loving or simply wanted a little trophy to keep by his side.

That night he was so enraged, he could have smashed your head against the doorknob, in the hopes of the handle poking out one of your eyes and leaving you wounded and in his care. But he didn't.

He was unusually quiet, collected, passive even. It wasn't the first time you tried to escape the grasp of his slimy hands, yet his fangs were far to deeply sunken into your flesh for you, little bird, to free yourself.

“Look at you now, withering and wailing. Didn't take my sweetheart for such a weakling.” he laughed, briskly briefing mania, on the verge of insanity swallowing him whole.

He crouched down, the epilogue that played in his head coming to a fade-out as he squeezed your broken chin in his hand, admiring his handiwork, the severed fingers laying in a pool of blood next to your crumpled up body, blue decorating your ribs, while he made sure to crack both of your knees real good.

Ha, maybe he wasn't on the brink of insanity, but was already mad? Could be.

He chuckled again, watching you in your delirious state, sobbing, only half conscious.

“Now Love, what about our relationship? I think this is just right. You love me and I love you. I am just a little itsy bit mad whenever you question that and have to remind you of my undying devotion, right my dear?”

He purred in delight, forcing your head to bob before your world turned blank with the sound of metal crashing into your skull.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Yandere!Sea Monster x nymph!reader

warning: mention of kidnapping, deceiving, very obsessive

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

Y!Monster that's unsightly, something grotesque and large, inhuman and daunting with long slender claws growing out from boney fingers, with a massive upper body, that's surprisingly lean, with long tendrils, odd shapes, fins and a thick, girthy tail adorning his lower half. That aimlessly swats around in the water until one day his eye catches you–the prettiest nymph he’s ever seen, with your big doe eyes, bright smile and doughy thighs.

Y!Monster that gawks at you from beneath the waters, shamelessly, slithering in the deep almost restlessly as he tries to figure out how to approach such a delicate little thing, without frightening her.

Y!Monster who one day, peeks up from beneath the waters, catching you alone without your sisters, ever so slowly approaches you, in order to not scare you away, who speaks surprisingly with a dark and somber tone. “Pretty nymph–stay, please, don't be intimidated by the foreign, for I simply find myself intrigued by the lives of the land dwellers.” His chest vibrates wich each word so enticing and tantalizing, that you almost forgot to fear.

Y!Monster who from then on regularly has small chats with you–oddly enough only when you're alone. You're a docile little thing, the youngest out of your sisters, bearing no evil within you, nothing to find suspicious of the ancient creature, who only ever shows you his face and slender fingers, who barely talks about himself, and listens to the mundane stories of your life. Truly what was weird about that?

So you don't question it when Y!Monster one day swims just a tad bit closer to you, fingers grasping your knees, claws ghosting over your skin as he pries your legs open, as his face comes dangerously close to you. You don't even know how it happens before he lifts his shoulders, and chest out of the water, causing your face to gradually fall, as you catch sight of the seemingly endlessly long tail behind him, weird tendrils, as well as fins growing out of it, one small appendage latching onto your thigh. So you scream, finally realizing your little friend, wasn't at all how he portrayed himself to be.

Y!Monster who instantly drags you down beneath the water, tail coiling around you, as tendrils latch onto you, screams drowned out by the water. Since you're a nymph, you possess the ability to stay far longer beneath the surface level than the average human, yet it doesn't make the experience any more pleasant. He drags you so far down until you reach an underwater cave, slipping you into an air pocket which allows you to finally breathe, lungs filling with the sweet air you craved.

You stare at your friend in terror, scrambling away the moment he releases you from his grasp. However he seems calm, not bothered by your pleads or cries, as you cower in a corner of the cave, pitifully sobbing. All he does is watch and wait–wait till you have exhausted your capability to cry any more, and then he will latch onto you, like a good mate should, attach you to his hip, finally ease the ache of his lonely existence through you.

And even if one day you will die, even if you have to part from him, don't worry your pretty little head about it, he will make sure to keep each limb and fracture of your cold body to himself refusing to let even the decaying pile of meat rot away, as he stuffs you in his mouth, swearing to keep his pretty nymph with him forever. ♡