#yandere captain puffy

[lovelybrooke]

Hiii could I please request a Jace x reader x aemond yandere love triangle with a platonic yandere alicent and rhaenyra plz???

Dragon Fire (Yandere HOTD)

So this is loosely based on my maid reader concept, except the reader is closer to Jace and Aemond's age instead of Rhaenyra and Alicent, if that makes sense. Some stuff might be scuffed since I have't watched the show in a second, but It should be fine.

masterlist

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Dragon fire, it always had such a distinct smell. It wasn't like a campfire, or the fire lit under a stove. It was intimating, threatening to melt your skin if you stood too close, devoid of all sense of comfort. But despite all that, it was alluring, warm but dangerous. You couldn't help but be drawn to it, smelling it as it wafted through the keep. It invaded your senses, overwhelming you, until your mind was hazy and you felt as though you were melting. 

That is how you felt in this moment, overwhelmed as you watched from a high window, Lady Rhaenyra and her family exit their carriage. You struggled to tear your eyes away from them, enraptured by their alluring presence. You knew it was wrong, the Queen wouldn't approve of you avoiding your work like this, but as you moved your eyes back towards the window, you locked eyes with the eldest prince, causing you to back away in a mixture of surprise and fear. You shouldn't be here, you knew that, but a part of you wanted to be, and it made your gut stir. 

The prince was a kind man, slightly peculiar in his own way. Before you were appointed maid of the Queen, you and your family worked for the Princess. You remembered the days before they left the keep, when you'd catch the eldest Velaryon watching you from behind walls of hallways, or when he'd sneak you out to the gardens to play, tempting you with food and toys. It was fun, nice to be treated so kindly by the prince, and you never really processed that the boy you were friends with would once be the King of the Realm. The Princess never seemed to mind as well, in fact the few times she caught you with her son she seemed pleased, amused by the playful nature of her son and the way you seemed swept up by him. She treated you nicely, giving you toys and accessories you would hide from your mother in fear of her reaction. 

Things were great for a while. Until your mother caught you with the Prince. It was a sight to behold, you were sitting in the grass, the young Prince as she showed you the first real sword he got to use, gifted to him by the Captain of the City Watch. You didn't see her come up, but you felt her grab you by the forearm, pulling you towards you as her face swelled with rage. You didn't hear what she said, the only thing you could focus on being the hand that struck you across the face. She paid no mind to Jacaerys as she dragged you back towards the maids quarters, lecturing you in hushed whispers the entire way there. 

You laid in your bed for hours as you felt the bruise swell up, your mother being called away for other duties hours ago. Your eyes were red and puffy as you drifted off to sleep, exhaustion overwhelming you. 

The news of your mother's death came quickly, you never knew for what, but you avoided her hanging body as best as you could as you moved throughout the Keep. Time passed quickly, things changed, but you kept your head down the best you could, and you avoided Jacaerys at every turn. After the death of their father, Rhaenyra and her family left for Dragonstone, and you were appointed to work for Queen Alicent. You hadn't seen the Prince since, until now. You knew this was a possibility as news of their arrival spread throughout the Keep, but you still felt sick as you thought of having to face him once again. 

"Are you lost, sweet maid?" The voice of Prince Aemond broke you out of your worries, your eyes moving away from the window finally. 

"No, my Prince." You say, voice wavering slightly. 

He doesn't look convinced "Then come." He says, and you follow him down the hall, leaving the sight of the prince behind. 

You and Aemond's relationship was one built on confusion, but neither of you seemed to mind. You met him a few hours after he lost his eye. He was a mess, his eye freshly sowed up, blood still stuck to his pale cheeks. But strangely enough, he was calm, when you locked eyes with him while leaving his room, you were frozen. You were told to tidy things up before returning, you didn't expect to see him. In your shock, the only thing you could say, 

"I apologize, my Prince." You attempted to bow and leave, but Aemond caught you before you could. His grip on your arm mimicked that of your late mother's, but instead of filling you with dread, his hold felt almost desperate, searching for any sense of comfort in you, a stranger. 

A quiet "stay" left his mouth, and so of course, you did. You sat with him throughout the night, helping him clean the blood from his face as he remained silent. Every few moments, he'd let out whispers about his newly claimed dragon, his words and actions delirious as he stayed close to you until falling asleep. You slipped out of his hold and left the room as quickly as possible, but since then, your involvement with the Prince hasn't ended. 

As his eye healed, the Prince changed and grew. The once quiet boy was now a confident man, gossiping with you about his family and the happenings in court. He'd seek you out, removing you from your duties, and take you wherever he pleased. A part of you wondered what his mother's reaction was to his behavior, but when she did talk to you, she never seemed to mind. 

"My son likes you, are you aware?" She asked as you folded the blankets in her room. You didn't dare look at her as she spoke to you, her presence an unwavering force. 

"Not particularly, My Queen." You respond, trying to focus on work. 

You hear her sigh. "Aemond he's--he's a sweet boy." There was a small sense of care in her voice, something she was trying to mask. "He doesn't mean anything by his behavior, you must know that..." She moved toward you, cupping your cheek and moving your face to look at her. "You are kind, genuine." She says, looking you in the eyes. "He is drawn to that." You didn't know how to respond, your mind racing. "You are sweet, my child." She said, and eventually he hand moved away from you, and all you could do was bow and leave. 

"You are distracted today, aren't you?" You hear Aemond speak and a part of you wants to rebuke the statement, but you knew there was no point. 

"I am just thinking about all the work that must be done for tomorrow." You say, a partial truth. Aemond hums in acknowledgement, taking your arm as you drift too far from him. 

"The legitimacy of the Velaryon child is none of your concern." It's like even the utterance of his name filled him with disgust, the words coming out through gritted teeth. "It need not concern you." 

"I know, my Prince, but there is still work to be done." You say, finally reaching the training grounds. You unlink your arm from his, facing him as the sounds of swords enter your ears. You feel eyes on you, but you assume it's due to the strange sight of a servant out near the training grounds. "I will be preoccupied until afterwards, My Grace." You bow and Aemond smiles. 

"We'll see." He speaks, backing away until he is out of sight. It felt like you could take a breath, leaving the grounds quickly and rushing toward the kitchens. The chatter amongst the halls was filling you with dread. What would happen if the Prince was found illegitimate, how would the Princess react? It felt strange to be worried for them, knowing your thoughts on the matter meant nothing. 

You turned a corner, entering an empty hallway, the whispers coming to a halt. It was strangely comforting in a way, the harsh silence. It was a rare thing. "(Y/n)." You hear a voice come from behind you, the voice of Jacaerys Velaryon. It was unfamiliar but familiar all at once, something you were terrified of but craving at the same time. "May I have a word with you?" His voice didn't waver, there was a familiar confidence in it that nearly made you smile. 

"My Prince-" You say, looking back at him. "I apologize I am--" You stuttered as he moved closer to you. "My presence is needed in the kitchens." You say as he stands in front of you. He was taller, more mature, and intimidating. 

He ignores your previous statement. "I do not wish to scare you." He chuckles slightly. "I simply wish to talk to you, that is all I ask." 

You go over the options in your head, and you deduce that you would get in more trouble disobeying the Prince than if you were late to your duties. "Please make it quick, My Grace." 

Jacaerys takes your hands, they were soft and warm "We have missed you, me and my mother." He whispers. "We would like you back, with us on Dragonstone." 

Suddenly, his hands feel cold, so cold you pull away. You felt him reach out for you, but you backed away. "Jace...we aren't children anymore, I have duties." Where was this coming from, you thought. You were but a maid, why did you feel the need to defend your position here? It must be paranoia, feeling eyes on you, causing you to lose all sense of titles with him. Your voice was strained, distant, and you could see the discomfort of Jace's face as you moved further away from him. 

"So do I--" his voice raises slightly, but he calms before anyone could hear him "--my mother is with child, once this is all over she would like you to come with us." You don't respond, but you also don't move as he moves closer. "Please just, come discuss this with her, she would love to see you." Jace takes your hands once again, and for a second, you look down the hallway towards the kitchen and wonder if you should go, but the feeling of warmth radiating off Jace is too overwhelming. You find yourself looking back towards him, and you sigh. 

"Of course, my Prince." Jace smiles, linking your arm with his and pulling you in the opposite direction. For a moment, you hear the clanging of swords back towards the training grounds and you imagine Aemond's reactions to the sight of you linked arms with his nephew. The feeling of anxiety sinks into you as you the sounds eventually quiet and you're led towards a room designated to quests, guards were posted outside, not sparing you or the Prince a single glance. Jace knocked on the door, entering with you a few moments later. 

The room was open and spacious, the wind blowing in making the room cool and comfortable. But the only thing you could focus on was the Princess. She didn't notice you until Jace addressed her, her gaze softening when you looked at you. 

"(Y/n)..." She hummed and you shifted your gaze towards the ground. 

"Princess." You whisper, hearing her move towards you. She takes your hand and holds it, causing your eyes to move towards her. She smiled, and you felt your heart warm at the sight. It was nice, even though you knew it was disrespectful. 

"I have missed you so, I trust the Queen has been treating you well?" You nod, stuck silent. You were treated well by her Majesty, but deep down you missed the Princess and her care. Maybe it is because of her connections to your mother, a part of you wanted her back. She smiles, moving a hand to place it on her stomach. "Jace has spoken to you, I assume." You nod again, and you realize that Jace hasn't let go of your arm this entire time, almost like he was stuck right next to you. 

"--He explained to me your situation, Princess." You didn't know if those were the right words. "--But I do not think Her Majesty will permit my leaving to Dragonstone." You say, hoping she understood. Her face shifts at your words, becoming cold at the mention of the Queen. You wonder if you had done something wrong, feeling fear wash over you as the Princess backed away. You remained frozen, stuck to the side of the Prince. 

"I will have a word with my father, he--" The Princess speaks, but is interrupted by the door opening. You, along with Jace, turn towards the sound, eyeing the Queen in all her glory. You quickly address her, moving away from Jace, trying not to look at him as he reaches out for you. 

"My Queen." You say, embarrassment washing over you. "--My presence was requested by the Princess."

She doesn't respond, but you don't dare expect anything from her. "You are needed in the Kitchens, my dear, go." She says, her voice unwavering. You bow, towards her, Rhaenyra, and the Prince, not wasting a second before leaving. 

You don't wish to hear what they speak about, you don't want to imagine it. All you really know is that you feel tired, exhausted even, and cold. 

You were ordered to stay late and clean the kitchen as punishment for avoiding your duties. The kitchen was cold at night, a stark contrast to the warmth in the morning. The smell of wine and bread was a nice comfort as you scrubbed the floors, a part of you wondering if you should sneak something for all of your work. 

"Sweet maid, what are you doing up?" You look up to see the face of Aemond staring down on you. You place the sponge in the bucket near you, standing up to meet him. 

"I could ask you the same thing, My Prince." You say, watching him smile. 

"Is this your punishment for mingling with my nephew?" You nearly choked, surprised that he knew. Truthfully, it wasn't that shocking, him and his mother were close, she would've told him. That didn't make it any less embarrassing. 

"I apologize, My Prince--"

"It's always "My Prince" with me." He moved closer, to close, causing you to back away. He follows. "You call him by his name, not me." You hit a counter, hearing Aemond hit the bucket, the water splashing on the floor, his eyes still locked on you. "Why is that?" He asks as he stops in front of you. 

"I-I've known him as a child." 

"You knew me, longer than you knew him." You feel his breath on your face. "But you treat me like a stranger, sweet maid." 

You look away from him, "the Queen would not permit that behavior, My Prince." 

"The Queen is not here." He speaks, cupping your chin to look at him. "Try it." 

You remain silent, his hold becomes tighter. "Say my name." 

You wait, his hold moves towards your neck, and he squeezes. "Go on." 

You can't breathe, you doubt you could speak, but you squeak out his name. He looks satisfied, finally releasing you as you gasp for air. You fall to the floor, clothes becoming soaked in water from the cleaning bucket. You wondered if he'd comfort you, if he wanted to comfort you, but as he leaves, the thought leaves your mind. You don't cry, you don't call out for him, you just feel empty. 

Aemond was a man who wanted intimacy, that you knew. He wanted you to watch him train, watch him fly that mighty dragon of his. But he did not know how to reciprocate. He was never shown love, real love, but he craved it desperately, that you knew. He wants to be acknowledged by you, he wanted to be the only man in your life, but he wasn't able to provide you with that same intimacy. He wasn't soft, he wasn't thoughtful, he wasn't warm, but you knew a part of him wanted to be, that you knew. It almost made you feel bad for him, if it wasn't for his behavior.

You finish cleaning and make your way back towards the sleeping quarters, your eyes locked to the ground. You felt the bruise on your neck swell, causing you to hug yourself, hand gripping your forearm tight. 

You find yourself stopped in front of the same window, looking out onto the night. It was dark, quiet, but peaceful, comforting was the word. Your hand gravitates towards your neck, hissing at the slightest touch. "(Y/n)" someone calls your name, you cover the bruise the best you could. 

It was Jace, his brows furrowed as he looked at you. "Are you well?" You nod, looking back toward the window. 

"Yes--I'm just distracted." You respond as he moves towards you. 

He stands close to you, moving your hand away from your neck. His jaw tightens as he looks at you. "What happened?" He asks, touching your neck carefully. 

"It's nothing, don't worry yourself, My Prince." He moves his hand away from your neck. 

"I always worry about you, ever since we left here." He whispers. 

You smile slightly, "that is a long time to worry about me." He smiles as well. The air was playful, nice, it made you forget about the pain of the bruise for a while. 

The atmosphere changes when you move away from him, the playfulness is gone. He's stern, intimidating, cold. "My mother has spoken with Her Majesty, you will come with us after all this is over." He spoke, there was no room for argument. 

You mind flashes with memories Aemond, his hand around your neck, "Jace--My Prince I can't--" 

"You can, and you will." He says. "My mother, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms demands it of you." Your heart sinks, you feel like you're trapped, so you look back toward the window. The sky is beautiful, the stars so far away but so alluring. 

You're ripped away from the window once more, Jace forcing you to look at him, his hands were warm, like dragon fire, but you felt like you were melting. "Things can be good again, I promise." He whispers to you, the light of the moon reflecting off his face. "I will treat you well, like back when we were children." He smiles, but you don't recognize it. 

You fear for tomorrow, when Rhaenyra is put on trial. You fear for Lucerys, and what might happen to him. But most of all, you fear for yourself, completely consumed by Dragon fire, trapped in a cage and melting. How long will it be before there is nothing left of you, you wonder. 

You breathe, looking out the window once more, this time towards the city, far away but so alluring. You look back at Jace and for a second, your mind flashes with memories of your mother, her red hot face as she pulls you away from your friend. Her disappointment as she watches you cry yourself asleep was the last thing you saw of her, you wonder what she thought of you now, you wonder if she was still disappointed in you.

"Yes, My Prince."

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A/n: Wow, something that isn't a Drabble, who would've thought. Hope you enjoyed it. I feel like I didn't get enough Alicent and Rhaenyra stuff so sorry about that.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon

[recreationalfanfics]

An Unstable Atmosphere

Part 1

Summary: You attempt to escape when you wake up in the captain's quarters of the Morrigan.

Note: Yandere themes, somewhat unserious banter at the end, this is a strictly platonic yandere x reader story

When you wake up, your eyelids still feel heavy and you feel like a stranger in your body as you feel all sorts of pains and aches. Your stinging eyes have a harder time adjusting to the light, your muscles ache and creak as if they will give out from under you as you pull yourself up, and you touch your lip which feels puffy and bruised. When the dull pain makes you flinch, everything comes back to you. The mass murder of everyone you knew, the way you were beaten around by Templar footmen and…

  And Shay. 

Now in a panic, you throw the blanket off of your form and inspect the area around you. The first thing you realize is that you were below deck on a ship, and the second thing you realize is that it was specifically the Captain’s quarters judging from the desk of a scattered yet neat pile of paperwork and the giant portrait of the dreaded traitor himself. If you recalled the rumors and stories to be true, Shay was about only two or three years older than yourself when he became an official Assassin, but seeing the portrait and remembering his face honestly made it hard to picture. You had to give credit to the artist where it was due, they captured his imposing and austere eyes rather well that it sent shivers down your spine, but it only made it harder for you to picture that his aged and hardened face was ever an assassin. He truly looked like a Templar, hateful and evil. 

You hesitantly step your feet onto the ground as you sit on the edge of the bed, taking in more details of the area. You still bore your robes and your hood seemed to be sitting on the back of the chair. Your paranoid eyes look at the door and then towards the window; as if a Templar was randomly going to jump out and attack you, but once you gain the piece of mind; you stand up and walk towards the chair to grab your robes and make your outfit whole once more. Despite the pounding in your chest and the overall awfulness of the situation, there is a small amount you gain as you pull your hood over your head and it gives you motivation.

You’re alive…for now. May as well keep testing Lady Fate.

You briefly glance over the papers but find nothing of use, you also realize that your wrist piece with your hidden blade was not attached to your robe and was nowhere to be found, but you weren’t really surprised by that realization. It wouldn’t have done you much good anyways, seeing as you were never really handy with weapons, but your mentors often told you that you had a gift for stealth and having the element of surprise on your side. The very least you can do for those mentors is believe in their words and in yourself as you get your boots on and walk towards the door, pressing your ear against it. The chatter is rather low and soft and you don’t hear the sound of many scuffling feet, not to mention that you still hear the sound of seagulls which is a very good sign that you’re still nearby land but the ship is definitely still moving.

They’re in the middle of casting off.

With a closing time gap, your thoughts come together to come up with a very poorly thought out plan but one you felt would be your best bet. You would certainly be outnumbered but if you were quick enough, you’d be able to escape the remaining guards below deck and everyone else above deck would be too busy readying the ship to notice you escaping right away, and that once you managed to get to shore; you’d either buy yourself enough time to get a headstart before they turned their ship around or they’d simply deem you unimportant and continue their sailing to do whatever high ranking templars as Shay did. Grabbing your pillows and blankets, you take a deep breath before slamming the door open and throwing them at the first two templars you see guarding your door. You don’t catch their panicked yelling and you knock over everything in your path until you find the stairs. 

A little earlier, Shay was steering the boat; pondering over his own morals and choices. It was clear that while his crew didn’t voice it, they were all very confused why he of all people allowed the little assassin who was currently asleep in his quarters to live. Now that Shay thought about it, he couldn’t really understand it himself; obviously, it was unfortunate that someone that young became an assassin but you weren’t exactly the first novice assassin he had to face. Although, there was a huge difference between you and your unfortunate peers; while they foolishly overestimated their abilities and underestimated his experience because they equated their youth to superiority, you were just…helpless. Like a baby bird with a broken wing, at the mercy of the wolves around you, Shay just couldn’t help but want to take you under his wing and keep you safe. Unlike the others who were too arrogant and humbled in their last moments, there was something inside of him screaming at him to not let you die, and that in such a short amount of time; you’ve endeared yourself to him. 

It was wrong, he thought to himself. The very thought of you being killed despite being a part of the organization that betrayed him long ago felt…wrong. As he tucked you in the bed of his quarters, his hand gently caressed the side of your face, and for a brief moment; he felt a sense of familial connection. One that he hadn’t felt in a long time since his dear friend Liam and he realized he could not lose it. He could not lose you. There was no doubt in Shay’s mind that you needed him, especially as his eyes glazed over the injuries on your face with disgust, but he also knew that he needed you in his life just as much. He needed to protect and watch over you. He needed to teach you the ways of the world and softly introduce you to harsh truths. He needed you to look up at him and see him as not a disgraced assassin or as an untrustworthy Templar but as an idol, a mentor, and maybe even a father. There was an oddly warm feeling in his heart at that thought but he is pulled out of that daze the moment he hears loud clattering coming from the hatch that led below deck and that soon enough, your hooded figure pops out from it and immediately darts towards the side of the ship.

“STOP THEM!” Shay roars, he feels his body instantly become hysterical.

Side-eyeing the dock, it was far away that you couldn’t jump on it and make your escape back to land but it was close enough that it would take just a few strokes and a climb up and you’d be gone. By yourself, all alone, in the big cruel world. While some part of Shay expected you to pull something like this, a large part of him was slightly impressed but mostly worried. After all, once you got off his ship; where would you run to? All nearby guilds were already killed and the ones who managed to flee had escaped and erased all tracks for you to follow. You weren’t even armed with a weapon and you had no money. 

As he questioned your poorly thought-out idea after ordering his men to stop you, he also instantly turned his wheel to steer his ship further from the dock and more into the ocean. He yells out another order to go full sail and that immediately heightens the sense of urgency you had already. One of his men tries to tackle you but you duck out of the way and slide between the legs of another who tried to grab you in his arms. You reacted quicker than you did yesterday and it definitely impressed him and even reminded him of himself when he was younger. 

“I’ve got ‘em, Captain!” The navigator beside him shouted, Shay heard the sound of him withdrawing his pistol and he immediately turned around to grab his arm and quickly aim it anywhere else that wasn’t you.

As the two men scuffled, you yelped when you heard the gunshot. Failing to realize that it was nowhere near you but also not really caring, you dodge the last of his men near the edge and you reach the edge and perch yourself on it. Shay catches a glimpse of you as you try not to think about the water below and that the distance isn’t getting any shorter the longer you wait. 

“FULL SAIL!” Someone yells.

It doesn’t take long before the wind fills the sails and the change of speed is drastic. Much so that you stumble from your spot and yell as you fall over, your hand managing to grab the side.

“NO!” Shay cries, immediately bolting towards you.

The sea spray kisses your boots and you look back at the dock, amazed and upset by how quickly the ship got away but if you let go right now, maybe you could still make it. You pinch your nose and close your eyes to ready yourself for the water but as you let go of the side of the ship, two large hands grab your wrist. You’re nothing more than a rag doll as you’re roughly hoisted away from the side and onto the ship’s floor. You stare up and your heart drops in your chest as Shay kneels in front of you, much like he did yesterday, but this time he put a hand on your shoulder. It was a tight grip, one that despite his gloves and your robes, you could feel his nails digging into you like a predator desperately clutching onto its prey. His face looks worried but you don’t know why, maybe because his prisoner or hostage or whatever he saw you as nearly escaped. 

“Do you know how reckless that was!?” He hisses at you, his eyes now narrowing.

Still coming down from the adrenaline rush, your throat runs dry and you can’t seem to find a response. However, it didn’t really matter if you could or not because Shay quickly pulls you up to your feet and leads you back down below deck. He takes in the turned-over tables, chairs, and other miscellaneous things. His door swung a little most likely from the event that just occurred above deck. Then he finds his anger calming down and he briefly feels amused when he sees the blanket and pillow from his quarters haphazardly strewn on the ground outside, quickly gathering that you most likely threw them at the guards. Meanwhile, you struggle against his grasp and demand he let you go, knowing that it’d fall on deaf ears. Regardless of how you try to squirm out of it, it is all in vain.

He soon sits you on the bed as he slams the door shut, his other hand now grips your free shoulder and now it’s just you and him.

“What were you thinking?” He demands, trying not to be threatening but the frustration in his voice was clear. After a night of rest, you’re able to fake a brave face as you mimic his expression, furrowing your brows and trying to form your lips into a scowl as equally severe looking as his.

“Where are you taking me?” You shot back.

His expression changes, seeing you doing your best to look threatening, and he fights the urge to pinch your cheek fondly and tease you for it. Already, he feels an old part of himself reawaken, a more softer and tender side that he had thought years of being a Templar had washed away. When he pulls his hands away from you and crosses them over his chest, he becomes noticeably less angry but he still keeps his somber appearance.

“Do you really think you’re in the position to ask questions?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You simply respond with a, “Don’t care. Where are you taking me?” 

The silence is loud, uncomfortably so. However, your apprehension soon turns into frustration. This man had murdered your found family, this man was a selfish self-righteous traitor, and not to mention that for some sick reason; he kept you alive. The very least he could do is give you some answers. You open your mouth to once again demand answers but he beats you to it.

“Here’s how this is gunna’ work now.” He begins finally, “I ask a question, you answer. Then you ask me, and I’ll answer.” 

“How do I know you’ll be honest?”

The corners of his mouth upturned into a little smile, one that only increased the rage and fear brewing deeply within you.

“I’ll be as honest as you are. And trust me, I’ll know when you tell me a lie.” He answers, sounding somewhat genuine but your mind remains ever skeptical. Leaning on the side of his desk, arms still crossed, he gives a look that almost reminds you of a parent staring down their child, “Do you understand?”

You stay silent out of malice and spite for a while but then your eyes look to the side in defeat, “Yes…”

“Good. First question: What’s your name?”

“Hezekiah Needleman.” 

His head lops to the side a little and he gives you a long stare, clearly not amused by your false answer, and you couldn’t help but feel a teensy bit smug at his reaction before you say: “Alright, fine…It’s (Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n).”

“See how easy that was? Now, (Y/n), it’s your turn to ask a question-”

“Where are you taking me?” You demand once again.

“Home.”

It was a simple one-worded answer in any other situation, but in this context, it was like a baffling riddle. Raising more questions than answers, your expression becomes bewildered, “What do you mea-”

“Ah-ah, (Y/n). S’my turn,” He chides as unfolds his arms, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he leans further onto it. You glare at him but stay silent so he can get his question over with, “Why did you join the assassins?” 

This question takes you off guard and your hand reaches to your other arm and grips it, a visible sign of discomfort, and your eyes quickly sadden in such a way that Shay almost wants to take back his question, unsure of what wounds he might’ve just opened.

“They raised me, why wouldn’t I?” You say, hatred once again growing for the man who stood across from you.

“What happened to your parents?” He asked, his intrigue growing.

“Isn’t it my turn to ask a question?” You snapped. He wants to say something, to have the last word, but even he admits to himself he walked into that one. So he silently nods, a quiet gesture that lets you know it’s your turn to ask a question.

“What do you mean you’re taking me ‘home’? Where is this ship going?” 

Shay tries to figure out what he’s going to say, how he can explain it to you even though he struggles to really explain it himself. 

“Back to my estate. Where I will train you and show you what the Brotherhood really is.”

You open your mouth, again frustrated with how vague and confusing his answers are but then you close your mouth, not wanting to set yourself up for another pointless tease from him. Shay, quite pleased with your lack of rebuttal, then asks you: “Now, what of your family?”

“Dead. Because of you,” Your tone is bitter and your eyes harden again, “but if you’re talking about my real family, I don’t know. I was told the Templars were responsible for my becoming an orphan.”

“Did the Brotherhood tell you that?”

“Yes. And if you think the words of an old traitor are gonna change my mind, then I wish you the best of luck.” You snarl at him. 

Something about you calling him a “traitor” enrages him, definitely not towards you but that bitterness towards the Brotherhood grows at your words and you can see that your words stung him.

“You’ll find out very quickly, (Y/n), that I don’t need luck. I make my own.” He then straightens his back and goes towards the door of his quarters, “Question time is over.”

You stand up indignantly, demanding that he returns, but you’re only answer is the sound of the door closing; this time you hear it locking and you stand in silence before you growl and kick the leg of his bed.

Putting the keys to his quarters back into his pocket, Shay now understands just how tangled you are in the Brotherhood’s webs and how it’ll be hard work to get you to see the truth, but he is now more than certain that it’ll be for your own good. When he returns to the top of the deck, he feels raindrops and immediately looks up at the sky above.

The sky is grey and the clouds begin to darken. He knows that it'll just be a day or two of rain but he still thinks to himself that it'd be better to sail with caution. After all, he had precious cargo on board.

#yandere assassin's creed x reader #yandere assassin's creed #yandere shay cormac #yandere shay patrick cormac #yandere shay cormac x reader #shay cormac x reader #assassin's creed x reader #shay patrick cormac x reader #yandere ac #yandere ac x reader #ac rouge x reader #yandere ac rouge x reader #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #platonic yandere imagine #yandere x gn reader

[mamamittens]

Oh Sweet Child of Mine (+18 Luffy)

Yandere Luffy X G/N Reader

Main series predominantly platonic yandere with au ends

Warnings: Rough sex, oral, unsafe sex, possesive behavior, yandere behavior, dubious consent, authority kink, power imbalance, haki and devil fruit shenanigans for sex (inflation, sorry if that triggers an flashbacks for some of ya'll), as well as Gear 5 spoilers, technically.

As requested by obsessedwithstardress on AO3, consider this a continuation of the Luffy ending.

Word Count: 1,581

It was an exhaustive chase that left you dizzy and collapsed onto a bed in a suspiciously knew looking room aboard the Thousand Sunny. Lungs aching from laughing so hard at the various antics Luffy engaged in to keep you in his arms as he ran from your crew—although technically they weren’t your crew anymore you supposed.

It wasn’t entirely clear? Oyaji’s recruitment was weird, so for all you knew, tossing someone over your shoulder and running off with them for long enough counted. Guess you’d figure out later. For now, you were just exhausted.

You leaned up, rubbing your face as you started to remove your glasses to find Luffy leaning against the door, hand on a pretty serious looking lock.

“…What’s up, Luffy?” You asked, noting that the tips of his black hair seemed more gray and puffy than the roots, a red glint heavy in his gaze as he grinned. His footsteps sure and heavy as he walked to the edge of the bed, crawling up between your legs to loom over you. There was a palpable tension in the air between you as he chuckled deep in his throat.

“Finally… You’re right where you need to be.” Luffy declared in a low grumble, leaning down to press his lips to your throat. His hands sliding over the blankets to grip your waist. Pinning you in place as he nipped and ran his tongue over your racing pulse. You gasped, gripping his open shirt in shock.

“Luffy?!” You huffed, barely restraining a moan as heat raced down your spine. His hot breath washing over your cheek as he leaned in close to whisper into your ear.

“It’s Captain, to you.” A shockwave washed over you, instantly taking away your breath as you collapsed flat onto the bed. Pressure squeezing down like gravity as Luffy—Captain—grinned hungrily down at you. His eyes glowing red as black hair turned to smokey white. You tried to sit up, maybe ask some sort of question, but the intense feeling in the air only grew thicker as you fought to breath.

“C-Captain…?” Captain sighed, shuddering as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. Then to your lips in a slow slide, his thick tongue parting your lips in a shallow sweep. You panted, dizzy and despite yourself, excited.

“Sorry for the wait. I’ll make it up to you. Just lay there and take it.” Captain whispered, tongue growing long and thick as he lapped up your neck. The tip pressing into your lips as you whined. He dipped in slowly, letting you feel every inch as it dominated your lips and throat. The drums thudding against your skin and racing your heart as you stretched around the intrusion beyond reason.

You swallowed hard as you panted through your nose, eyes sliding shut as he groaned, his tongue massaged in the motion. Your body utterly failing to move underneath the conqueror’s haki pressure and thundering beat of your Captain’s devil fruit.

Your Captain raised his hand, pressing down on your swollen throat as you whined, squeezing down as you felt the constriction double between his grip and tongue. But still, you could somehow just barely breath. Enough to wheeze a moan as his other hand swept over your bare skin underneath your shirt.

He pulled away slowly, your eyes hazy and teary as he watched his tongue roll out of your throat from under his hand hungrily. The wet muscle dripping over your chin and chest as he rolled it onto his mouth with a lewd smack. His grin pleased and hungry still as you panted hard.

Captain roughly ripped away your clothes until you were bare and trembling underneath him. His hands all over you as he fondled your body. He took your ankles in his hands, gently probing the delicate skin thoughtfully as he looked at the bedframe.

“You’d look good tied up in knots…” Captain murmured to himself, kissing your heel before scooting backwards. His grip not letting go as he went. Instead of dragging you with him, your legs stretched out slowly, the drums echoing in your chest as he twisted your ankles around the bedframe posts. Tying them in knots to spread your thighs wide apart under his hungry gaze.

“L-Luu—ooooh~!” Captain squeezed your open, trembling thighs hard and you swiftly corrected yourself. “C-Caa—aaahn—ptain~!” You moaned, hands weakly fisting the pillow under your head.

“Not now… I’m eating~” Captain admonished you, tongue sliding up your thigh and immediately pressing against your quivering rim. Between the thrumming drums and his slick spit, your walls parted easily—the stretch still making you gasp as he buried himself in deep. Your lower body distending as he growled. One hand gripping your thigh hard and the other pressing down against the swell.

Even under the immense pressure on your body, you began to shake and gasp, arousal dripping onto the bed. Your Captain’s tongue unrelentingly pressing against your walls and expanding the tight, cramped space beyond human bounds. The sound lewd and wet with his pleased groans. Lips sealed over your wet skin as he kissed your body intimately.

Your thighs shook, vibrating against the knot around the bedpost as you jerked and moaned louder. Gasping and whining against the pleasure of your Captain’s hungry tongue. You shrieked, spine arching sharply as you broke open, drenching your Captain who completely ignored you save a deep snarl as he went deeper.

Cold sweat broke out over your skin as you weakly writhed underneath the onslaught that never seemed to end. Your Captain’s sheer gluttony astounding as he split you open under his tongue alone with loud, wet smacks.

Your body began to burn as you came for the fourth time with no signs of stopping, a harsh whine ripping through your throat.

“C-Captain! Caaptain~! Stop! Stop! T-Too much—ooh~Ooh~! Fuck~!” You keened, clenching down onto his writhing tongue again. You cried, actually cried, as your Captain slowly withdrew. Smacking his lips as your trembled at the overstimulation.

Even without his haki pressing down on you, destroying your will to move, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything but cry and pant for air with a low whine.

Captain looked down at you with a smirk, panting for air himself like he would have kept going—your pleas be damned—if he didn’t have another goal for the night.

“No it’s not. It’s not nearly enough… gotta make sure you know who you belong to.” Captain grinned, baring his teeth down at you as he slapped your thigh, your ankles instantly popping off the bedposts and snapping back to normalcy. “Remember who’s your captain~” He plucked your glasses and tossed them away.

Your Captain gripped your waist and flipped you over, drums thundering against your chest as he lifted up your hips. Pulling them up into an impossible arch as he slammed into you, hilting his thick cock in one move. You swear your ass folded over as he leaned over your spine. Face burying into your shoulder as he pressed your head into the pillow. Suffocating you as he railed you open in an unrelenting pace.

Your walls burning and quivering around him as he seemed to inflate inside you.

But your walls didn’t expand supernaturally along with his cock.

Your wails muffled into the soft pillow as he spread you open, carving your body to his hard cock with every thrust. Thighs slamming into you ass with wet, sticky slaps from your arousal. You opening began to burn, your sobs jerking with every hilt.

“C’mon~ Who am I? Say it~!” Your Captain giggled into your damp skin, nipping hard as you wailed, drenching his cock as you struggled around his thickness.

You squirmed, forcing your face out from the pillow to look at him.

He was close enough that all you could see was the manic gleam in his burning red eyes. White hair whipping around his head as he grinned inhumanly wide, his hands keeping your waist propped up for his rough thrusts.

“K-King~! M-My King~!”

His expression froze in shock, hot cum bursting instantly into your sore walls as he whined, face red like his eyes. His smile trembling as he groaned, hips grinding against your ass.

The snarl was deep and like thunder against your back, his teeth bared like he was about to take a bite out of you.

He yanked you back against his chest, allowing your body to return to normal besides his thick cock still splitting you open. Your King rested his chin on your shoulder gently, hands caressing your thighs like you were made of glass as he lifted them up with his forearms. Hands reaching behind your head as you were folded in half—still utterly human and trembling in his arms as he sat up on his knees. Lifting you entirely with his own strength.

He kissed your lips almost playfully, licking across your hanging tongue as you moaned with a sneer.

“Exactly. And you’ll take everything your King gives you, won’t you?” Your King sighed before laughing, the drums in your blood now as the burning between your thighs lessened despite his cock growing inside you. A chuckle tickling your sore throat as euphoria raced against the heat. “Of course you will~! You’re my perfect subject~”

Your King laughed and laughed, slamming you onto his impossible cock.

And you wailed with uncontrollable laughter with him.

#one piece #one piece smut #yandere smut #one piece yandere #yandere luffy #luffy X reader #gear five #oh sweet child of mine

[thecuriousquest]

Can I request a part 2 (more like a prequel) of this fic please:

https://www.tumblr.com/thecuriousquest/727912708774690816/yandere-levi-making-his-favourite-cadet-cockwarm?source=share

Like their relationship and dynamic before this, how they got into this arrangement, their first sexual encounter, etc. NSFW please.

Little Pet (Prequel to The Favorite)

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, spanking punishment, finger fucking, vaginal sex, thigh riding, reader is a crass little thing, reader is 18 and short, Master/Pet, overstimulation, edging, manipulation, breaking reader down, dominance, sadism, submission

Master List here.

The Favorite here.

—————————————————————————

It was your own fault really. You were just a puffy little mess, too big for your own britches. You declared wildly that you would be the one to kill more Titans than anyone in history. You were going to be the one to even END the Titan war!

Levi couldn’t contain his shock. Sure, he’s heard things like this before from young and strong men who could easily lift a boulder if needed. Yes, he’s heard these drunken ramblings on the nights where soldiers were allowed to drink.

Never has he heard it from a little slip of a thing like you, though. You, just about as short as him while lacking muscle and any sort of special abilities, think you can manage such a feat.

Oh, he’s going to enjoy breaking you down, and he does.

You have the loudest mouth in the squadron. Always shouting, always fighting, always leading to your inevitable punishments.

Levi really likes singling you out, letting the people you fought with get off lightly. He likes to give them one day of kitchen duty while you’re to report to his office for some…special attention.

And his ministrations aren’t light either. Oh, no, ma’am. He takes you in an iron grip, firm discipline delivered right to your door.

You end up ass up over his thigh while he relaxes on the couch, a hand on the middle of your back, keeping you from moving around too much.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? This isn’t right, Captain! You can’t fucking do this to me! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna raise hell once I get off of your knee! I’m telling Commander Erwin about this! You can’t do this to cadets-”

And you go on and on and on. He listens to you like a child telling their parent a make believe story. He listens with little interest, still hearing your words, but not necessarily finding any meaning or bite in them.

How cute you are.

He lets you tire yourself out. “Are you done? Good. Let me tell you what’s going to happen. You’re going to settle down for a long night because I can’t imagine this will be a quick session. You’re going to take this spanking, brat, and then I’m going to break you down. I’m going to make sure that by the time you leave this office, you’ll barely be able to walk straight.”

You try to push up again. It’s futile. You can’t get past his heavy hand on the middle of your back.

The spanking, true to his word, is long because you make it that way. You fight tooth and nail, thrashing around, punching the couch. You scream volatile threats at him.

You’re like a feral animal, too wild for your own good.

Yes, this will be so much fun.

He strips you of your pants and panties, letting you lie bare over his thighs. You’re humiliated. Tempted to bite him and try to run.

What if he catches you? Will it be worse if he gets his hands on you before you get out the door?

The captain’s palm is heavy against your blazing rear, and you simply can’t stand it anymore. You buck, your hips squirming.

Your body slowly starts to slump from all of your exertion, all of your fighting. It’s too much to keep going, and you press your wet nose against the calf of Levi’s pants as he raises and spanks your bottom. Your thighs, oh, they’re so sensitive! He really takes the time to pay special attention to the curve of your bottom and the backs of your thighs. He even orders you to spread your legs so that he can smack, smack, smack the insides of you thighs, where they are somehow even more sensitive than the backs.

It’s excruciating, mortifying. You feel like a small child, helpless. You don’t like it. Don’t like it one bit.

“Please, I’ll be good, sir!” you sob.

And his hand stops. It takes you a few short seconds to register that his palm is no longer inflicting damage on your backside.

Instead, now, he’s rubbing your tenderized flesh, and this somehow doesn’t feel relaxing. No, it hurts still. You would like for him to stop rubbing your overworked and burning bottom.

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. As he rubs the insides of your raw thighs, you hiss on a sharp note, trying to calm yourself so as not to stir your captain’s anger again.

And then you think to yourself that he wasn’t angry. He was calm, smirking devilishly at you when he took you over his knee. There was no disdain or disappointment in his eyes. It was almost like he wanted to do it this way for another reason.

You find out what that reason is quickly as he works his deft fingers all the way up to your slit, gathering juices on the tips as he plunges them inside of you.

Your eyes widen, widen so much that they might pop out if you open them anymore. You can’t help it.

And fuck, it just feels too good. His fingertips slip in and out, in and out against your walls which squeeze around his digits.

It’s slippery for him. Fuck, he likes that a lot. A little too much for a cadet maybe.

“You’re a loud mouth because you want attention. Just a fucking kid looking for someone to listen to them. Well, go on and cry, scream for me. I’m all ears.”

And he is. His cock pays extra close attention to every guttural moan falling from your wet lips. Your chest puffs up in a different way and you lie half naked over your captain’s lap.

For a moment, a singular moment, you attempt defiance.

It doesn’t work in your favor as he speeds up the pumping of his fingers, adding a third one, slipping in and out, in and out, in and out.

You squeeze and squeeze, a raspy cry paired with the shake of your head. There’s fingers on your little button with thousands of nerves which makes you feel so, so fucking good.

You pant heavily, chest heaving, spanked backside long forgotten with his nice feeling hands.

You swear upon the walls that this man is the creation of an angel making wild love to a demon.

Levi pulls you up on his knee, forcing you to straddle it, making you ride it.

Your clit rubs against the fabric of his white pants, and you can’t imagine the stain you’re going to leave.

Will he be upset? You know how much he likes to keep things clean.

You throw these thoughts away when your head snaps back, his hair tangled in the mess of your locks.

“You tell me when you’re about to come, cadet, or I’ll take you down to one of the classrooms and cane you.”

No, you don’t want a caning. A caning might mess everything up. You, especially, don’t want this to end, these sexual pleasantries.

You ride his thigh, ride it back and forth, hard with the intention of making yourself feel good.

“What a fucking bitch. Such a loud mouth when you came in here. Look at you now. You’re just a come hungry cocksleeve. Such a little thing. Could make you do anything I want. Wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t you like to please me, cadet?”

“Yes, sir! Oh, fuck!”

“Yes, sir?” he tuts. “No, you’ll call other captains and commanders that. You’ll call me ‘Master’.”

And you don’t even think about it. “Yes, Master! Please, Master! Anything you want, Master!”

You’re so greedy for a climax.

“I’m gonna, Master, I’m gonna!”

Nothing. He lifts you off of his thigh and places you next to him. It causes you to squirm on your battered and raw ass, but you also huff in frustration at him. You whine, blatantly whine right to his face. You bring your fingers down to your throbbing pussy, aching with the loss of an orgasm.

Your captain grabs your wrists and shakes his head at you, tsking at you for being such a naughty little girl.

It makes you embarrassed. It makes you blush.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, cadet. I’m not done punishing you. Remember what I said? I’m going to break you. You won’t be able to walk out of here on your own when I’m done with you.”

———

He doesn’t know just how much of a submissive little thing you could be until he’s through punishing you, and true to his word, you’re unable to even walk alone.

He spanks you raw, fucks you with his fingers, lets you ride his thigh, punishes you with his cock in all sorts of ways, slaps your ass some more. He even threatens to shove his dick down your throat if you don’t settle down like a good girl.

Of course, you sharpen up and calm yourself. You like how good he is making you feel, don’t want to stop even for a single second. Don’t even like the thought of stopping. He edges you and overstimulates you, letting you build up orgasms just to rip them away, and then making you come too many times in a row afterwards.

You don’t get a break. Not for water, not to pee. Mean Captain Ackerman.

——���

Levi fixes his own clothes and then dresses you, puts your clothes back on like a child would a doll. You’re too fucked out to do it yourself as you lie down on his couch while he buttons your pants and then your shirt.

So cute. Such a submissive little thing.

Where’s the rough edge? The bite to your threat and declarations? Where did all of that bravado go?

It went straight out the door with all of your orgasms.

Knowing you’re way too tired, he picks you up and lets you settle against his chest, watching you breathe through your nose, your hair falling into your eyes.

You look softer now that you’re asleep. Less feral. More vulnerable in a sense. He chuckles to himself, and you stir, hearing the thunderous rumble in his chest.

You quickly still and continue your soft snooze as Levi takes you to your quarters. He’s quiet, slipping you into bed.

He doesn’t exactly want to leave you. He feels something stirring his insides as he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest.

His. You’re his and his alone. He’ll make sure of it, make sure you know it deep down. He’ll fucking break that lesson into you, punish it into you hard. You’ll call him “Master”, and you’ll be his little pet.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #attack on titan requests #attack on titan #yandere attack on titan #levi attack on titan #levi smut #aot levi #levi aot #captain levi #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi ackerman #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman aot #levi is a short king #levi is hot #choke me daddy #spank me daddy #drooling for that cock

[jessamine-rose]

⋆‧͙˚*✧•̩̩͙*˚  Fairytale  ˚*•̩̩͙✧*˚‧͙⋆

I thought that writing Herbarium would free me from the Capitano agenda. But I was wrong and now we have a side story + epilogue written from Capitano’s POV…….pls don’t expect much from this, as it’s just a collection of dark fluff and bonus scenes which take place throughout Herbarium. Also, three cheers for Sumeru update ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

To those who previously enjoyed Herbarium, I hope you enjoy this fic and don’t mind me tagging you. I will forever be grateful for your feedback!! And thank you once again to my dear friend @diodellet​ for peer-reviewing another self-indulgent fic :’>

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping, violence, blood, murder, psychological trauma, mention of child abuse, mention of nsfw, spice, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female reader described as physically weak and smaller than Capitano, pre-release characterization of Capitano which will likely be obliterated by canon lore

♡ 3.3k words under the cut ♡

i. Once upon a time, an unlikely romance blossomed between a Monster and a Damsel.

The battlefield is a merciless place. A corner of the world nourished by violence and bloodshed, a place where only the strong could lay claim to honor and victory. For as long as he had been a Fatui Harbinger, Il Capitano had full control over this domain.

On the battlefield, there is no chance to appreciate the beauty of the natural surroundings, not when all would eventually be sullied by blood and death.

And yet here he is, standing in a peaceful meadow so far removed from the reality of the world. Having fallen victim to an opponent like no other, whose weapons take the form of melancholic glances and immortalized flowers.

“This is for you.”

She gives him flowers again. The dandelions are pressed between two sheets of parchment paper, puffy seeds flattened and denied of their promised liberation.

And just as he had done with that fateful bunch of windwheel asters, Capitano accepts her gift.

“The flowers are preserved this time,” he notes. “Are these from your personal collection?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t share my flowers. I picked these two weeks ago and pressed them for you.”

“And for what reason have you taken pains to offer this gift to me?”

She looks up, directly facing him. “You don’t seem to be the touristy type. I just thought that you might like a souvenir of Mondstadt to bring home. Or think of it as compensation for helping me read those Snezhnayan classics.”

How strange. Many a soldier have looked at him with fear or hatred, oftentimes as the light faded from their eyes. On the other hand, there is a sense of privilege to be felt in occupying ______’s gaze. The melancholy look in her eyes is a mystery which he has yet to uncover.

“Your gesture is greatly appreciated.” He keeps the parcel in his coat pocket, careful not to crumple the flowers. “I shall see to it that your gift is properly maintained.”

“That is good to hear.” She looks away, ending that brief moment of recognition. Then she sits down on the grass and opens her library book, quickly absorbed in her newest story.

For her to put herself in such a vulnerable position before him…he cannot tell if her trust is a matter of blind naivete or foolish courage. Had she met a lesser person, she would have quickly fallen prey to the cruelty of the world.

His appointment in the Goth Grand Hotel will begin in a few minutes. It is time to resume his mission.

Capitano walks over to the edge of the meadow, nodding at a hidden subordinate. They bow and run deeper into the forest to prepare his carriage.

He looks at ______ one last time. She is still staring at her book, completely apathetic to his departure. Among the flowers, she presents the perfect image of ethereal beauty.

It would astonish many to hear that the Captain had fallen victim to the charms of such a delicate little flower. But that was the reality of this battlefield.

ii. The Monster, having fallen under the spell of true love, sought to become the Damsel’s protector.

Procuring information had been child’s play.

“My lord, the Maier son was spotted leaving the Angel’s Share! He will arrive in an hour.”

The Fatui agent is careful not to step on the blood. The cleaners already have their fair share of evidence to dispose of.

Capitano is still standing inside the Maiers’ office. “Keep an eye on him henceforth. Should he ever suspect the involvement of the Fatui or ______, eliminate him at once.”

“Yes, my lord!”

They rush out of the room. Capitano glances at the bodies on the floor.

The Maier couple had been cowards to the very end. Up until their slaughter, they had begged for mercy and spoken ill of their former foster child.

“Lord Harbinger, it is all a misunderstanding!”

“That brat! What kind of lies has she been telling everyone?!”

To think that he even granted them the mercy of a quick death. The Tsaritsa would forgive him for turning their mere interrogation into a spontaneous massacre. The suffering of his soldiers is nothing compared to what his darling had been forced to endure.

“My lord!” Another agent appears, holding up a worn folder. “We were successful in obtaining all records of ______ from Mondstadt Orphanage. All available personal information is listed in this folder, with the exception of the adoption papers.”

“Has the orphanage been sworn to secrecy?”

“They promised to never speak of her moving forward.”

Another pathetic lot. For a safe haven to be easily silenced with bribery and threats…he is already aware that injustice flourishes beyond the battlefield.

Capitano wipes the blood off his gloves and opens the folder. By now, he already knows most of his darling’s past through earlier background checks and careful deductions. There is nothing romantic to be found in her melancholy; it is simply the byproduct of a tragic story.

-

NAME: ______

STATUS: Dismissed at the age of 18.

-

How pitiful. All her life, she has been a powerless damsel deprived of hope and a kind savior. She was only able to leave her prisons once her tormentors were done with her.

“My lord.” The agent is still bowing before him. “We have already completed our other task. The purchased books will be delivered to your home shortly.”

“Confirm that the books will arrive before my return. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir!”

He can still recall the titles and stories of every book his darling had read in the meadow alongside him. She has a fondness for fairytales, from the classics to dark fantasies to creative subversions. It is easy to tell which archetype Capitano would be associated with.

He would never be regarded as her hero or knight in shining armor. To claim that his love is honorable and pure would be a falsehood.

But he would protect her. He would place her in a tower so high that it would be impossible for anyone else to reach her. And regardless of her feelings, his darling would never be exposed to the violence of the world ever again.

He only hopes that she will quickly adapt to the merciless winters of Snezhnaya. A flower does not take kindly to being uprooted from its natural environment. However, she has shown him that it is more efficient to claim ownership over a pressed flower.

“My lord.” The cleaner gives him a brief bow. “All evidence of your involvement has been erased. What should we do with the bodies?”

“Leave them as they are. Let their deaths become a public spectacle in Mondstadt.”

So she may know of his resolve to destroy all of the monsters in her story, with himself as the sole exception.

Capitano closes the folder and turns to his darling’s slain tormentors.

“Let the consequences of their dishonor be put on display."

iii. Following the Monster’s profession of love, the couple was married in a faraway land.

There is no grand proposal or wedding. A few weeks after their arrival in Snezhnaya, Capitano presents his darling with a simple ring crafted in the likeness of flowers.

She doesn’t resist. She simply allows him to slip the ring onto her finger, flinching at their brief skin contact. Following that short ceremony, he begins calling her his wife.

His darling has adjusted to her new prison but she remains a silent captive. She denies him of her flowers and friendliness, instead offering her obedience as the bare minimum. It is a futile strategy, but Capitano can respect her logic.

She knows that she is locked in a one-sided battle. Eventually, she will concede defeat.

On occasion, he is granted small victories. He often catches his darling polishing her wedding ring despite it being a dreaded mark of his ownership. At one point, she had even dared to inquire about his real name.

“I’m curious, that’s all,” she whispers. “I just want to know your surname.”

He only stares back at her. “For what reason? Do you intend to use my family name?”

“...Never mind. Forget that I asked.” She opens her notebook to the newest flowers. The white roses make a lovely addition to her collection, including the one that has been permanently stained with her blood. “Can we visit the woods later? I would like to pick more roses.”

Capitano’s mask hides any hint of his smile.

iv. The Monster, however, could only dream of the Damsel’s requited love.

Another stack of books is delivered to their manor.

His darling gives him a confused look. “You bought more books for me.”

Capitano is already unboxing them for her. “That is clear.”

“But why?”

Her confiscated book is still fresh in their memories. After that minor dispute, Capitano had limited his book purchases and her interlibrary loans to reserve his darling’s time and attention. His sudden bulk purchase only serves a similar purpose.

“Is it indecorous of me to support my wife’s hobby?” He sets the final book on her desk. “I trust that you will be reading these for your personal enjoyment and not as a means to avoid me.”

Her collection of books is steadily increasing. Perhaps he should set up a bookcase or even a personal library.

“...Of course.”

She uncaps her pen and opens each book, writing “Property of ______” on the front pages. Then she selects a leatherbound novel and flips to the next page.

Capitano remains in the bedroom.

He can already ascertain the moment she realizes his tactic.

The books are all printed in native Snezhnayan at a level far too advanced for her comprehension. Her dictionary would prove useless in translating the archaic words and figures of speech.

To her credit, his darling makes a noble attempt. She takes out her dictionary. She mutters words and phrases. She flips through the other books and does not even acknowledge his presence.

Her shield has become another weapon for him.

Her favorite books have served as an excellent source of psychoanalysis. Capitano’s new pastime of reading his book purchases beforehand has even equipped him with an arsenal of story spoilers. He wonders if his darling has noticed the recurring themes in his choices.

After an hour of her fruitless endeavor, she finally approaches him.

“Capitano.” She gives him the book. “Can you please read this to me?”

“Would you like me to start from the beginning?” He adjusts his sitting position in the armchair and pats his thigh.

She only sighs before taking a seat on his lap.

She is practically weightless to him. It would only take a tight embrace to crush her.

“Yes, please.” She stares ahead at the pages. “You…it has been a while since I last asked you to translate for me.”

The Snezhnayan classics have been untouched ever since she labeled them. Perhaps Capitano will reread those to her one day.

He does agree with the sentiments of the stories’ villains.

v. Yet he persisted in his efforts to win over the Damsel’s heart through priceless treasures and chivalrous acts.

The battlefield is red with dendrobiums this time.

The flowers bloom across the ravaged scenery, vermilion petals demanding the soldiers’ attention. Some survivors have taken the opportunity to rest and admire them.

“My lord, the Inazuman forces have retreated! A few survivors have been captured for interrogation. Shall we…?” The sergeant’s voice trails off.

Capitano picks the dendrobiums and stands up. He had chosen only the prettiest, most vibrant trio for his darling.

“Sergeant Agapov.” He holds up the flowers, careful not to get blood on the petals. “See to it that these flowers are safely transported to Snezhnaya along with my luggage. They are to be kept in fresh condition.”

“Yes, my lord!” They take the dendrobiums and rush to their tent.

Capitano turns around.

Two soldiers are staring. They look away immediately.

By now, he is already used to this. The Fatui headquarters is rampant with whispers of the Captain’s despondent darling and his punishments for minor offenders. Some even claim that she has cursed him with moments of weakness.

He has no response to those allegations. If not for his loyalty to the Tsaritsa, he would have left the battlefield ages ago to devote his strength to his ethereal flower.

Though a chat with those soldiers would effectively remind them of his earlier show of strength.

✿ ⚘  

“Sergeant Charon, your status report.”

The spy enters the tent and kneels. “My lord, you will be pleased to learn that your wife is in good spirits.”

Capitano looks up from his report. “Do elaborate on what you mean by ‘good spirits.’”

He had already expected his darling to act differently while he was away. If she has been eagerly awaiting news of his death, their reunion will be rather disappointing.

Charon shakes his head. “I…I was referring to her health! Your wife spends the majority of the time reading her books, and she rarely speaks to Sergeant Fames. She looks neither joyful nor sullen in your absence.”

“I see. You are dismissed.”

Charon leaves immediately.

So his darling seems unaffected by his absence, at least to outsiders.

He has only been gone for a week. He can still recall their conversation from the night before his departure.

-

“Will you miss me?”

In that moment, she had never looked more vulnerable.

She was beginning to show signs of defeat.

It had taken everything in Capitano not to abandon his position and swear his undying devotion to her. Instead, he had knelt before her and made a sacred promise.

“There is not a single moment when I do not think of you or your safety. Let these be your words of comfort until I return to you.”

His hand was caressing her cheek, the other clasping his darling’s own hand. And for once, she did not flinch from the contact.

“All right.” She averted her gaze. Her free hand wrapped around his wrist, but she made no move to remove his hand from her face.

Her touch was so delicate. A sensation so light and insubstantial that it left him wanting more.

“I’ll trust you on that.”

-

His collection of Mondstadt souvenirs is safely stored amongst his luggage. Capitano unlocks the box and takes out his preserved calla lilies.

vi. As the seasons passed, the Damsel slowly succumbed to the same curse that had befallen the Monster.

She welcomes him home this time around.

“Welcome back.” She closes her notebook and leaves her desk. “Ceres didn’t tell me that you had arrived. Has she left?”

Capitano enters the room. “Sergeant Fames was dismissed a few minutes ago.”

“I see.” She stands in front of him, head lowered. “How was your mission in Liyue?”

Liyue had greatly improved their military defense. What was originally a three-week mission had been extended to a full month apart from his darling.

The flowers of Liyue pale in comparison to the one he already has at home.

“Liyue boasts of a scenic landscape and unique flora.” He walks over to his closet and takes out a change of clothes. He has already removed his coat and armor. “Your souvenirs are in the living room. I was able to procure wild Glaze Lilies for you.”

“Thank you.”

He unbuttons his shirt.

A quiet gasp. “Are you hurt?”

The wound on his chest is only a scratch. But his darling is already rushing to his side to inspect the bandages.

She must have gone mad in his absence.

“The pain was only fleeting,” he assures her. “The wound will heal in time.”

“But it could leave a scar.” Her touch is gentle. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

Capitano only shrugs. “A scar is but an everlasting reminder of the past.”

“Exactly. Do you…can you still remember the pain until now?”

She looks up.

Her gaze is clear. The listless veil has been replaced with pure concern. All that he can see in her eyes is his own singular reflection.

“Darling,” he tells her, “this pain is incomparable to what you inflict on me daily.”

He removes his mask and kisses her.

She has weakened him. How could he go a day without the blessing of her touch?

She is more responsive this time. She clutches his shirt and kisses back, careful not to touch his bandaged wound. She smells like flowers, the combination of different fragrances mixing into her own intoxicating scent.

Her hips still bear marks from their last night together.

Capitano touches one of the bruises. His darling whimpers and looks up at him.

Their first night of intimacy had been an enlightening experience. He quickly learned that it is much easier to garner noises and reactions from his darling during lovemaking. Her own scars had been covered up with his marks of affection.

When they are connected, neither does she fear his touch.

His own love bites had disappeared weeks ago. If he could choose his scars, he would willingly carve his darling’s marks into his skin.

“Capitano.” She steps away from him, head lowered. “You…shouldn’t you rest first? We don’t want to agitate your injury.”

He only laughs and tilts her head upwards, claiming her gaze once more. “My beloved flower, you truly underestimate my strength.”

vii. And so the Monster and the Damsel lived happily ever after.

The flowers of Sumeru are beautiful. Nilotpala Lotuses glowing in the dark, Padisarah with purple-tipped leaves, Kalpalata Lotuses blooming across treacherous cliffsides, fragrant Sumeru roses bereft of thorns. And beyond that region, there are still so many other flowers to admire in Teyvat.

Capitano still prefers his own ethereal flower.

“The Sumeru roses belong to a different family from the classic rose. They are just as lovely, aren’t they?”

His darling snips six purple flowers and presses them inside her notebook. Each rambler rose takes up two whole pages.

Capitano is standing beside her. “You already picked numerous Sumeru roses near the bookstore. For what reason do you desire such a bountiful collection?”

She merely faces him. “I told you before, didn’t I? I don’t share my flowers. These are for you.”

Her gaze is as mysterious as ever. Some claim that it has changed over the past year—that her eyes have become completely consumed by darkness and melancholy, only to light up whenever she looks at the Captain. She only sees him.

She has gracefully lost to him. But Capitano could argue that he had been defeated first.

He holds her wrist. “We should return to the hotel. The remainder of my time will be devoted to my mission at hand.”

She does not flinch this time. “Good luck with your negotiations. I’ll just be reading my new books in our room, I guess.”

“Do not even think of trying to sneak out,” he warns. “I have guards stationed all over the hotel. Until we find a suitable replacement for Sergeant Fames, you will rarely leave my side.”

Her pulse continues its steady rhythm.

“I know.” A small smile forms on her face. “If I ever run away, my husband will capture me immediately. Can you promise that?”

She has truly become his one and only weakness.

There are also rumors of the changes to Il Capitano, the Fatui Harbinger who dyes the battlefields with blood then proceeds to pick the loveliest flowers for his darling.

To the entire world, he may be nothing more than a monster. But in the eyes of his beloved flower, he is her loving protector and knight in shining armor.

“You have my word.”

♡

Author’s Note ๑ Epilogue 1 ๑ Epilogue 2

Askndkfnaddk I am very surprised with myself for completing Fairytale in just a little over 24 hours. I can’t say much about the quality of this addition to Capitano and Darling’s twisted story, as I only focused on fairytales as the primary theme. But it was worth it to write about Capitano’s yandere tactics and give him back his flower rights <3

Once again, thank you all for reading and I hope you liked my work Σ੧(❛□❛✿)

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @shumidehiro @dear-yandere @northcafe @dulcetthorns @nicebonescomrade @lambdrop @lolnoone @uhhhh-hi-im-sorry-for-this  @poetics-of-fuubutsu @p214ven @elixir-de-silence @loleah @springtidewaves @frostedclementine @literaree @the-dreaming-city @something-was-here @shadowthief78 @lyra-mew @siphite @blankussy​ @xreaderarchive

#il capitano #capitano #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader #the capitano agenda #capitano x reader #fatui x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #spicy warning #mdni #fem reader #jessamine-writing

[peachymilkandcream]

How about them attending a dinner party and Levi keeps fingering her under the table?

Levi x Evelyn -> Keep Quiet

(A/N: Aside from fucking with Petra, humiliating Evelyn is my next favourite thing, part of me is tempted to do something where Evelyn is fucked publicly but that's probably just my demons :P)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc

==============================================

For someone who absolutely hated being late, Levi always insisted on making her late. He had "accidentally" not told her about a very important dinner party with all upper rank officers. She had only found out as he cleaned up the creampie he had given her just a few moments ago. Now she was rushing around like a mad woman trying to find just one clean pair of panties. Levi had made it a habit of either ripping or cleaning off with them and now she couldn't find any. As she picked up the last clean pair she could find Levi snatched them from her hands and put them safely in his jacket pocket, of course he was already dressed and ready to go. The smirk ever present on his face.

"Levi I need those I don't have any others."

"You won't be needing these, don't worry."

"So help me Levi if you do this again-"

"Or what?" He cut her off. "What are you going to do? Got something to say? Speak up."

The words die on her tongue, now is not the time to risk his wrath.

"That's what I thought, now get dressed." He shoves a forest green dress against her chest and waits for her to get dressed.

With no other choice she does as he says, noting the real reason he wanted her bare when he lifted up her skirt three times.

=============================================

By some genius and diabolical plotting on Levi's part, they make it only five minutes late. Embarrassingly though Levi's answers as to why don't hide the reality of what kept them from being on time. Thankfully everyone else was wearing rouge so the blush on her cheeks wasn't out of place.

"I told you we'd be late." She whispers in his ear.

"Of course not. I just made sure to miss all the annoying small talk before dinner was served." As if on cue their hosts motions for everyone to take their seats. "See?" What she wouldn't give to slap the grin off his face.

=============================================

The start of the meal went off without a hitch, Levi seemed to be in a relatively good mood and from what she could tell she hadn't slipped up and found herself out of his good graces. His hand hadn't left her thigh, so either no one had noticed or just chose to ignore it, not willing to risk Levi's wrath. It was uncomfortable and made her self-conscious, but what was she to do? Best to let him be, although the heat from her core wasn't helping the situation at all.

"Mrs. Ackerman, it's so nice to see you around more these days, it seemed like Captain Ackerman had you locked away for so long."

Evelyn opens her mouth to answer but all that comes out is a gasp and a twitch when Levi suddenly runs his finger over her clit.

"Are you alright Mrs. Ackerman? What's wrong?"

Levi gives her a fake concerned look. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

She sees the warning in his eyes, as well as the arrogance, challenging her to call him out. "Nothing, I just brushed my foot against Levi's and it startled me."

Levi seemed satisfied with the answer, rewarding her with a finger rubbing up and down her folds.

"Oh I see, it's nice to see young couples so in love with each other."

She tries to slap his hand away but his grip is iron. "Yes it is-" She pauses to hold in the heavy breathing caused by him rubbing circles in her poor puffy clit, her legs twitching ever so slightly. "And I can just say that Levi and I were just adjusting to married life."

The speaker seems satisfied with the answer and turns to speak with someone else, giving Levi an opening to lean down and whisper in her ear.

"Nicely done. No one would know how wet you are."

"Stop it Levi we're in public."

"Do you think that will stop me? Now be a good girl and stay quiet or I'll push you onto this table and fuck you in front of everyone."

"You wouldn't-"

He raises a brow. "You could very easily find out." His finger plunges into her entrance, making her toes curl as it twists and thrusts into her.

"It's not funny Levi-"

"Then keep quiet. You might think I'm bluffing but I can and will throw you onto this table on all fours like a dog and breed you in front of the entire general staff."

A small part of her heated up at the thought, giving his finger the tiniest of clenches. Whether he noticed or not he didn't say.

"So Mrs. Ackerman." A woman asked, a bit of mocking in her voice, one of the ladies who was not impressed with handsome young Levi being snatched up by a nobody like her. "When will we get the announcement of the next little Ackerman? Or are you one of those women who doesn't want to ruin her body?"

For once Evelyn was grateful for Levi, his movements distracting her from the anger bubbling up. "We're trying for one now if you must know-" Her jaw clamped shut quickly after, as a second finger entered her, scissoring and thrusting into her wet cunt.

Even with just his fingers he was reducing her to a puddle of messy pleasure, if he didn't stop she would cum in front of everyone, and that she couldn't hide. Her dress was a furnace to the heat inside her, she was getting close, so close, she could feel herself almost at the edge.

Somehow, Levi found mercy within him and stopped before she could climax. Removing his fingers completely and wiping them on the napkin. Mischief glinted in his eyes, following by the hint of a wink.

"Good girl." Was all he said as he resumed his meal.

Evelyn's body went weak with relief, able to continue mingling as best she could. Until she felt his hand snake back up her thigh, and she knew she had a long night ahead of her.

#attack on titan #break me slowly #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x oc #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #oneshot requests

[cindernovadoesart]

Fun facts about Twisted Wonderland Oc’s lets go

Ren Yū is capable to overblot, it’s not the whole self sacrifice thing they do in the STYX chapter but there is a chance.

Yuuko and Yuuki have been referred to a nickname in their home town surrounding around the Japanese urban legend. They’ve been compared to Hanako due to some seeing Yuuki cosplaying the character from toilet bound Hanako Kun a couple of times and one halloween Yuuki being the manga adaptation while Yuuko went more realistic to the actual legend.

Ophelia has a laugh similar to a witches cackle as she developed it from watching hocus pocus a lot in the human relam. She even dressed up as Winnie for halloween multiple times.

Jadiel is just a yandere like a more of yandere that is very charismatic and can charm people into getting what he wants and it usually works (except on Azul, Sia, Ami, Lilia, and Rook)

Sia and Ami love to watch rom com anime series, they tend to binge multiple shows and sometimes lets Ophelia join in. Vil is very disappointed but can’t stop them. Trust me once he’s tried to get in the way he almost got punched in his beautiful face.

Yui Poppins has lived a long time like Lilia and has met Lilia before. Being the mysterious teacher for the Princesses and Great Seven and just disappeared when they all learnt a good lesson that the teacher thought each needed to know.

Pirate Captain! Yuu has played multiple tabletop games and dice games, would definitely join the board game club.

Erza is not actually human,one day he was created out of frosting and gingerbread and a bit of fairy dust and fae magic and boom. Erza learns quite quickly and was just dropped off on the Clover family doorstep but keeps his last name of crumble.

Twst!Eret is definitely a decent of Belle/Beauty or Meg because our queen definitely deserves it.

Twst!Hannah she is the one that tends to the botanical garden and would join the Mountain lovers club because yes.

Twst!Puffy is obviously a decent from Captain hook, and no one can convince me otherwise and would just join a boating club.

Twst!Ranboo often is referred to as Mallus’s long lost sibling. just because they act similar and are intimidating at the same time. Ace and Deuce both screamed on the top of their lungs when Ranboo went into enderwalk for the first time being there in their full form just clinging onto their friends saying said word happily in ender. Cuddling up to the braincell duo acting similar to a cat with a slight purr coming from them. It definitely took the Heartslabyul dorm by surprise to see this odd creature before Puffy came in and claims it to be Ranboo.

#twst #twst oc #twst au #twst yuu #twst wonderland #twst wonderland oc #twst wonderland au #twst wonderland yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland au #twisted wonderland yuu #yuuki kai #yuuko kai #Ren Yū #whispers of amphibia #ophelia botan #jadiel kingsley #sia davenheart #ami davenheart #yui poppins #pirate captain!yuu #dsmp x twisted wonderland

[chocolatte-and-despair]

Yandere Dream SMP Headcanons: Part 4

Skeppy

Skeppy is a possessive yandere. He gets jealous almost every single day, for the smallest thing. He also tries to spend as much time with you as possible, not wanting to spend a second without you. When he finds out that you have been spending time with other people, he would go to those people and threaten them about spending time with you, before acting like nothing is wrong with you. The moment that he would be rejected, he would completely lose any facade he had near you. He would grab you and not let you go anywhere, saying that you had no right to reject him and that you better accept him if you don't want him to break your arms.

Technoblade/Techno

Techno is a possessive yandere. It took him a little bit to get used to you, but the moment that he did, he wanted to have you only for himself. The moment that he decided to stop fighting, he took you with himself, as he really wanted to start a life with you, even if you were less than willing. He was just happy that Phil understood his love for you and helped him keep you a secret. The moment that you gave him up to the butcher army, he returned and he was angrier than you would have thought. You didn't even think that he would return, but here he was. I just hope you are ready to lose your limbs, tongue, eyes, and vocal cords. It seems that he was too good for you.

Captain Puffy/Puffy

Puffy is a worshipper yandere. Honestly, in her eyes, you are absolutely perfect. There is nothing wrong with you, and if you don't feel the same about yourself, she will make sure that you will be showered in compliments. And of course, in exchange for that, she would secretly take some of your things, seeing as it's only right, yes? If you would ever reject her, she would act you over and over why. In the beginning, you just felt uncomfortable, but the moment that she started to get more aggressive with you, you started to get scared. She was the king's knight for a reason. She can seriously hurt you if you don't give her the answer that she wants.

Girl Dream/Mamacita

Mamacita is a harmless yandere. She would never hurt anyone for you, but you can bet your bum that she would ask her counterparter, Dream, to do something like that. Almost immediately after meeting you, she made it very clear that you are someone that she wants and that anyone who tries to take you will end up killed by Dream. If you would ever reject her, she would be a crying mess, as she would run away. The next thing that you know is that you are being kidnapped, and wake up in Mamacita's room, as she looks more than happy, hugging and kissing you, before thanking Dream, saying he was the best.

Nihachu/Nikki

Nikki is a possessive yandere. Nikki might be a soft-spoken person, she stands firmly by her beliefs and knows what she wants, when she wants them. That's why, when she fell for you, she wasn't shy about it, and told everyone to stay away from you because none of them were good enough for you. Seeing as Nikki was quite a cute person, you never paid attention to that and simply let Nikki do whatever she wanted. The moment that you would reject Nikki, she would probably act like everything was okay, but the moment that you would eat something made by her, things would start getting blurry, before you would wake up in her basement, saying that you should have accepted her when she was still willing to play nice.

Ranboo

Yandere is a platonic worshipper yandere. Since the moment that he met you, he knew that you were the best person around. You were always sweet to him and actually tried to help him with his memory. You were always also patient with him and never treated him like a child, instead, as someone worth respect. The moment that he would find out that you are moving somewhere far away, he would get hysterical. You can not move away! The world is too dangerous for you to do that! You must stay somewhere where he can always see you and protect you!

Tommyinnit/Tommy

Tommy is a possessive yandere. After he had been exiled, you were the only person who was there for him. You took him into your home, you fed him your food and you comforted him from his nightmares. You were the only person in the world that was by his side. It really wasn't a surprise that he got possessive over you, hating whenever anyone would visit, saying that you don't need anyone but him. The moment that he would find out that you believe he should go back, he would get angry. Are you throwing him out? He isn't going anywhere! You and he are going to stay together forever, do you hear him?! He isn't going to listen to your bullshit anymore. And come on, and help him in the garden.

Tubbo/Toby

Tubbo is an obsessive yandere. Ever since he became the president, you were always there, showing the way to do things, and always standing behind his choices, never blaming him for anything. You were always there when he needed you most, so how could he not be your biggest fan? You are absolutely the best, the wisest person he knows. And trust me, he knows a lot of people! The moment that he heard that you are on the opposite side of the revolution, he would be distraught. The only person that was always by his side finally left him... No... You must have been seduced by one of them... No worries!... Quackity was right, if you want to protect people, you need to be violent. So, don't worry! He will protect you!

#yandere dream smp imagines #yandere imagines #dream smp imagines #yandere headcanons #dream smp headcanons #yandere dream smp headcanons #yandere dream smp #yandere #dream smp #skeppy #yandere skeppy #technoblade #yandere technoblade #captain puffy #yandere captain puffy #nihachu #yandere nihachu #ranboo #yandere ranboo #tommyinnit #yandere tommyinnit #tubbo #yandere tubbo

[kirozai]

Hey there

If I remember correctly I sent two one about how would the acolytes react to reader respawning after they died an not remembering the whole witch hunt and the second was about how would the archons react to reader coming from a abusive home and having no self value

If you could do the request when you feel better

Love you

💧anon

yep thank you! i wasn’t quite sure so im glad you sent this re-request

is it?… over?

CW: genshin, sagau, religious themes, yandere, angst with comfort, death, cult, self awareness, villian au

characters include: xiao, zhongli, kaeya

type of reader: gn!reader, god!reader

zhongli

it felt different, how you were so, quiet. he never expected it like this. zhongli was a very powerful and sophisticated archon, yet he couldn’t pinpoint precisely what you were upset about. also, it didn’t really seem like you wanted to talk at all. maybe this was just how you acted as a god? or maybe something was wrong with your food, or maybe the color of your room.? but then you told him. about everything, about what happened at home, school life, how your parents acted, how you felt alone. now if you told that to morax, he would go on a rampage. but zhongli, is more calm. of course, that doesn’t mean he would immediately torture the people that hurt you if he saw them. he would offer you comfort, be there for you. it really does help.

xiao

every single time you two went out, you would never speak unless spoken to. maybe it was just a respect thing? he didn’t really understand. unlike zhongli, he would go up to you and ask you is everything okay.? obviously not. whether you explain it the first time he asks or the fifteenth time he asked. he will get it out from you. let’s say, your “family” was spotted nearby, but you were there. if he saw them first he would bring them to zhongli. to keep until he can remove them of course. in what world what he let those animals survive? you wouldn’t know if course. he fears that they would try to manipulate your kindness or gaslight you. you are a merciful god, and he is truly grateful for that, but. some people don’t deserve second chances. so let him do his work and then you two can spend the rest of the dah doing whateverrr you want :)

kaeya

kaeya worshiped you as a child, so when he saw the obvious puffy eyes of yours that hinted to you, no wait sorry, showed that you were crying, he could not just stand there and say nothing. he would get you alone. maybe a picnic. with your favorite foods and drinks. then around the end when you both were finished eating, he asked you. why were you crying? the atmosphere became, heavy. why? he didn’t know. but he intended to figure it out. once you explained that you cane from a terrible family, and what they did to you. he hugged you, saying things like, i’m here for you, it’s over, it’s okay to cry. now the second thing to do is ask if they are here, you know, just to have a small chat, educating them. if it’s a no then things would be focused on keeping you happy, if it’s a no, then someone else will care for you. he isn’t the calvary captain for nothing… you can guess what happens next :)

thank you for your request and apologies for taking so long! i have 2 more request that i most likely ( if im motivated ) finish both tomorrow, then ill start opening my asks ONLY for drabbles, the event is coming soon and i want to focus on preparing for that :)

if you enjoy my works, considering tiping me at my ko-fi!

kirozai out!!

edited: no

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin self aware #genshin x reader #sagau #yandere genshin impact x reader #zhongli #genshin sagau #genshin imapct #zhongli yandere #zhongli x reader #yandere xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao #kaeya #yandere kaeya #kaeyagenshinimpact #genshin self aware au #self aware #self awareness #yandere #soft yandere #angst #comfort #💧 anon #help me im dying #help me #stuff for you

[thesunicarusfellfor]

What if Yandere!Tubbo,Yandere!Tommy AND Yandere!Ranboo fell in love with the same person- and at the same time-

YALL JUST LOVE CHAOS. Sorry this took a while. I was focused on writing longer stories. Unfortunately this one is a liiiiittle short because brain has committed no work any longer.

Yandere!Plat!C!Bench Trio x GN!Reader Headcanons

Chaotic

That's all that really needs to be said.

At first, none of them knew that they actually felt this way about you.

Tommy would try to get you to avoid the other two, although it never worked. So he just ended up constantly trying to have your attention on him.

Ranboo had books FILLED with little facts about you. Anything from your favourite weather, the exact time you were born, to your favourite flowers, any allergies, the exact paths you take from your home.

Tubbo always found himself giving you headbaps, like headbutts but much much more gentle. (Unless you're a Ram hybrid. If you are, mans iS CHARGING for an affectionate head bonk)

But then Dream started flirting with you.

They became fiercely protective of you, and many bad things had wound up happening to Dream at once.

His house got robbed.

He kept some how kept getting tripped while nothing was there.

They just bullied him relentlessly.

But you, being the sweet person you were, always kept trying to help him up, offering to give your stuff to him, etc.

Realizing this, the three began to quickly get angry, but this lead to each of them realizing that the others felt a similar way about you.

Genuinely had to ask Puffy, Sam and Phil what their feelings towards you meant.

Phil wheezed.

Sam explained it gently, but didn't give much info. He's a busy man that's trying to build redstone machines.

Puffy SQUEALED. Like she was so happy to hear the fact that they felt this way towards you.

The captain had to carefully explain that they were just feeling jealous, and that it was normal, but did try and persuade them to win you over.

She had no idea that they were this smitten with you.

Genuinely taken aback when Ranboo told her that he wanted to lock you away to keep you from any danger, when Tommy told her that he wanted to kill anyone who interacted with you, and when Tubbo said he wanted you to only rely on him.

It was Phil who explained what Yandere was to them, and told them that it was an extremely unhealthy relationship that they were seeking after.

The trio... Didn't seem to care too much... actually...

Instead they hyper focused on how to get Dream away from you.

Like they spent a ton of time on their plan. To the point where they actually weren't leaving the security building they made.

Tommy would practically threaten the masked man every time he got near you, and while they didn't do much, he would yell them while dragging you away from him.

Tubbo kept trying to convince Sam to throw Dream into the prison, but Sam couldn't do it without any evidence. He has morals.

Ranboo decided to be genuine with you and began to tell you all about Dream's manipulation, the voice, everything. He also got Tommy's permission to tell you about Dream's true nature.

They were actually so focused on trying to get the masked man away from you, that they forgot they were supposed to be fighting over you.

By the time Dream finally did get put in prison, you were pretty much best friends with the trio, completely unaware of their manipulation tactics.

You thought Puffy was trying to make a joke when she told you their intentions, so you just politely brushed off her warnings.

Let's just say, even if you realized what was wrong, at this point you were too trapped to escape.

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #yandere tommy x reader #yandere tommyinnit x reader #c!tommy #mcyt #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt #yandere x reader #ranboo #ranboo x reader #ranboo female reader #ranboolive #ranboo mcyt #yandere ranboo #ranboo dsmp #dsmp #mcy #dream smp x reader #yandere tommyinnit #yandere tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo #yandere ranboo x reader #yandere ranboolive x reader #tubbo x reader

[yandere-toons]

PERSONA NON GRATA

Invader Zim – Platonic Scenario

WARNING: yandere, strong violence and gore, references to alcohol use, toxic mindsets.

Alien (1979) AU: This follows the basic premise of the film (i.e., the crew of a space tug unwittingly ferries a hostile alien specimen) but differs in many ways.

A.N. - No one has asked for Invader ZIM content, but I devoted far too much time to this idea to simply discard it.

A FORCE SLAMMED into the rear of the starship at an incredible speed, triggering a series of alarms inside the control bridge as the vessel swerved out of its landing position. Flashing lights accompanied the bright messages that overtook the computer screens and radar. "Heavy damage sustained by hull," announced an automated voice with dissonant serenity, but the panicked howls of the crew smothered its analysis.

"Put the landing gear down now!" roared the captain, lurching forward and clutching the sides of his chair to avoid flying into the windshield. Droplets of spit burst from his mouth, but Darius faced the ominous clouds that broke before his eyes like ancient ruins with unwavering resolve.

Frantic beeps and buzzes emitted from the control panel as the pilot, Jill, yanked the joystick towards herself. "We're coming in at an almost 60-degree angle!" When the screen that displayed the simulation of the planet's surface began to contort and flip, she retracted her hand as if it were a beast gnashing its fangs. "If we land, the ship might split!"

Shouts were tossed back and forth across the bridge. One half of the crew argued for a reckless abandonment of safety, while the other half countered this with crash statistics and a lack of visibility. Instead of contributing to the debate, which was ultimately a fruitless endeavour due to its chaotic volume and emotions, you focused on the dark shape gliding past the corner of the windshield.

It was spherical with what appeared to be engines protruding from its sides, but the object was too far away and obscured by the thick atmosphere to distinguish colour or inhabitant. The possible spaceship dove in front of your nose before descending into the foggy depths of the planet. While no additional sighting of the aircraft was offered, the clouds dissipated to reveal a cold world designed to trap and take all life that visited it.

Rocky formations that ended in spikes jutted from the surface like rows of crooked spears. An earsplitting ringing filled the control bridge that mimicked hundreds of bells tolling at once, and waves of rocks pelted the hull. Sliding across the unfriendly land was akin to tunnelling inside the heart of a typhoon, catastrophic winds that held no deeper wish than to tear apart everything in sight shoving and jerking the starship as if it were a toy.

When the vessel slowed to a stop, it released a stentorian groan that reverberated through the planet. It shook the floor beneath your feet, and for a long while, you expected to hear an explosion and witness flames devouring your vision.

Darius lifted himself from his crumpled position at the base of his seat and murmured, "If that looks as bad as it sounded, we'll both be sending an SOS."

* * *

THE SPACESUIT PULLED every part of you towards the barren embrace of the gravel that crunched under the weight of your feet like walnuts. Its clunky and puffy appearance was the embodiment of safety before comfort, and the glass helmet had, after an hour or two of exploration, become a prison of sweat and humidity.

Multiple voices gushed from your handheld transceiver with varying degrees of worry and aggravation, each one clamouring about the disappearance of the pilot and reporting vain searches. The chatter that, combined with the incessant buzz of the static, had begun to irritate your mind was silenced by a click of the receiver button. You expelled a troubled sigh and looked at Darius, who was marching forward with steely composure.

"Jill's nowhere in the ship. Wasn't she with you?" The perturbation in your question was indisputable, but the captain acted as if you had pondered the colour of grass.

"That kook broke off to fix the engines," he explained, not blinking once.

Activating the receiver, you had an impulse to rebuke his nickname for Jill with a far more fitting one but decided that finding her was the chief problem. A sudden burst of static drew your attention to the walkie-talkie, an 'uh' emitting from the device for several, uninterrupted seconds before the actual message was aired. "We have an LGM in sector thirteen."

Feet halting on a short pile of rubble that overlooked the remnants of a sentry turret, you clenched the button that activated the transmitter and rose the handheld transceiver to your mouth with slow bewilderment. "Mind running that by me again?" Voicing the question and, by extension, acknowledging the possibility that the statement had not resulted from an audio glitch or a poor attempt at humour summoned an unsettled tension to your jaw.

The static returned as a fuzzy voice, too muddied by insistent pops and buzzes to assign to a particular crewmate, announced in a much more confident tone, "That is a … confirmed LGM in sector thirteen."

A small, bipedal creature with skin the colour of summer leaves was perched atop the remains of an escape pod. The debris had become too well-acquainted with the local fungus population to be fresh, yet his cerise tunic was untouched by the gales of dust and gravel circulating through the air. He hopped to the ground with practiced finesse, boots crunching rocks.

The top of his head barely surpassed your knees, and his slight frame resembled that of an eleven or twelve-year-old child. "Hello, humans!" The extraterrestrial waved his three-fingered hand in a rigid, passionless manner while sporting a fake grin and elucidating in an overly cheerful tone, "I, the Almighty Zim, have crash-landed on this planet just like you."

His voice was shrill like the scream of a fox and grating like the sound of a thumb dragged across sandpaper. The lilting inflection of each sentence caused every other word to burst forth with unprecedented loudness before dwindling to a low tone. This puzzling assignment of emphasis confounded any attempt at determining his intentions, and the captain filled the lack of answers with immediate distrust.

"What do you want?" queried Darius, forehead wrinkling and eyes narrowing. The man did not refute his observation and, perhaps because of this, refused to lower his head to face Zim directly as if doing so would have been a premature show of acknowledgment.

The extraterrestrial clasped his hands together in front of his stomach, rocking back and forth on his heels and angling his head towards the ground so he had to look at you through the roof of his gaze. "In a purely hypothetical sense, who would you say is the weakest among you?" His tone was deliberately soft and quiet, the type of meek stance a predator would take to lure its prey.

Darius drew his head back and crinkled his eyes in suspicion, mouth opening slightly.

Your impassive expression was unruffled as you confirmed in a decisive tone that allowed no room for argument, "Jill." The look of shock and anger that Darius hurled in your direction was ignored, for Jill was a recreant hermit who had yet to step outside the sterile walls of the control room until this mission. As soon as her name had landed on the roster, your faith in the sanity of your superiors, a proposition that was already dubious, had plummeted to bottomless depths from which it would never resurface.

The extraterrestrial, too, seemed uninterested in exploring the apparent disagreement. His large eyes neither blinked nor strayed from your own, even as Darius turned to face you in a silent challenge to acknowledge him, and he proceeded with the inquiry as if the man were invisible. "Where might one find this … Jill-human?"

"That part," you began, pointing the antenna of the handheld transceiver at him, "is a mystery to all of us."

* * *

A BOULDER WITH the rough texture of a cat's tongue sat in the centre of a peculiar clearing. Where heaps of rocks and rubble littered the rest of the surface, or at least as much of it as you could see, this boulder was surrounded by a flat circle of gravel. The incline of the ground towards the rock hinted at a powerful impact that was not unlike a crater, and chunks of lichen dangled from the object as if they had recently been disturbed.

"Why don't you call your alien friend? See if he can move it."

Taking a moment to process the umbrage sprouting in your gut, you inhaled through your nose and raised your head to scan the distant ruins that populated the surface of the planet. A tight smile formed on your lips, and you propped your arms on your knees to propel yourself upwards. "Maybe it's my not-talking-about-killing-him vibe that earned his trust."

A boisterous grunt resounded from directly beside you. "Eh?!"

Darius yelped and leapt backwards, arms rising from his side. His feet struggled to grip the loose chunks of scrap metal beneath him. After narrowly saving himself from a painful fall, he peered at the source with embarrassment and agitation.

Your head swung towards the noise, and the sight of Zim leaning forward as if straining his invisible ears to hear prompted you to hop a step away.

He retreated to an upright position, examining the subject of interest with narrowed eyes and a jutting jaw. After a moment of head tilts that were not unlike those of a bird, a conclusion was reached. The extraterrestrial rested a hand on the collar of his uniform and marched to the slab of detritus with strict, confident strides. "Zim would be delighted to aid his human comrade!"

Four knobs had begun to protrude from his PAK when the extraterrestrial gained a look of alarm. The small objects receded, and Zim cast a wary, wide-eyed glance over his shoulder as if fearing an attack at any moment. Upon receiving bored and impatient stares, he allowed his shoulders to slump in relief.

The endeavour seemed to require every drop of strength that the alien possessed, but even then, the rock only raised enough to fit a thin finger inside the space below. A spindly, angular mass became visible beneath the boulder. It was fleshy and unnaturally hollow, appearing concave in places where it should have been convex.

Inexplicable dread accumulated in your stomach like a pile of marbles. Before you could identify the source of your newfound discomfort, the rock plummeted to its original position with an upsweep of dust. Squinting, you bobbed your head from side to side before taking a step closer to the debris. "What's that under-"

Rather than a handshake, which is what he appeared to believe he was doing, Zim grasped the top and palm of your hand with both of his own and shook it up and down in a robotic manner, asserting in an equally forced tone, "Nothing worthy of the note, human ally."

"He could help us find Jill," came a feeble voice from the direction of your starship. The crunches of pebbles and flimsy pieces of decrepit machinery sought to muffle the words, but they rose with a hesitant strength that betrayed their soft nature. Turning to identify the speaker yielded Luise, a chubby woman who acted as the navigator for this mission.

Luise was the kind of timid soul who was uncertain about her right to speak and ended every other sentence with "I don't know". She rarely stood at her full height, hunching her shoulders and angling her back forward. Her support earned a look of surprise from both yourself and Darius, but the latter soon deepened his frown into a scowl.

"What a shock," he muttered, eyes flitting to the belts of rocks and dust contaminating the atmosphere of the planet.

Gaze dragging on the ground and head downcast, Luise moved to stand behind you. It seemed like she found solace in having you between Darius and herself, for she managed a defiant glance at the man. Zim scurried a few, short steps away as if repelled by her approach and drew his arms to his chest, lips curling and eyes narrowing in perplexed annoyance.

He brushed the front of his tunic with the palms of his hands before turning to you. "As recompense for my invaluable service, Zim requests transportation to the planet Earth."

With a look of scathing displeasure, whether from the request itself or the fact that the alien seemed to think you were the commanding officer, Darius countered, "You tried to lift a rock and failed."

Zim outstretched an arm, face contorted in disbelief and middle finger pointing at the captain. "Zim doesn't see you lifting the rock, inferior pig-human!"

Mouth bobbing and eyelids fluttering in frustration and resentment, Darius scoured his environment for an adequate response. Monotone rocks and dilapidated crash sites laughed at his endeavour. He shook his head and turned to you with cold hostility as if you had forced him to land here. "That thing is not coming on my ship."

The comment provoked an enraged screech from Zim, who balled his fists and flashed a mouthful of zipper-like teeth. "You have no authority over Zim! If Zim wishes to board this primitive vessel, then he shall!" His anger seemed to stem from the denial of service rather than the objectification, which he had accepted with almost dismissive ease.

Darius looked to be withholding an exclamation of rage as he whirled in the direction of the starship and began storming away. He had dismissed Jill as a victim of poor planetary conditions and was moving to abandon this world, so Luise hurried to accompany him.

You watched as she voiced a concern that was, to your thick helmet and distance, silent. The captain reacted with a sharp turn of his head and clenched fists, causing the navigator to flinch and shrink. Flexing your jaw in disdain, your tired gaze lowered to the extraterrestrial, who was standing in an uncomfortable daze like a penguin in the desert. "Welcome aboard."

* * *

THE LADDER DESCENDED into a corridor full of burnt umber hues and rusted blue tints that seemed to stretch from one side of the ship to the other. Layers of dust and residue populated the floor and walls, which consisted of a series of metallic strips that housed dim, rectangular lights. Consoles shaped like half of an octagon protruded from the walls, and rows of buttons and switches sat upon them, dark and stiff from lack of use.

Pipe systems ran along with the corners of the ceiling and floor in groups of three, supplying fuel and coolant to the engines. There was no amount of wall space that did not flaunt a unique collection of wires or valves, so the narrow, brass path that imitated the appearance of a drain grate was hailed as the singular clear area.

The industrial style of the starship was reminiscent of the naked interior of old factories that left no ambiguity in how the building was constructed and functioned.

"Do all spaceborne humans live in such filthy conditions?" inquired Zim from his perch upon your upper back.

You had discarded the bulky layers of the spacesuit, a decision about which you were having lingering regrets, and were now exposed to his natural weapons.

His claws were clenching your shoulders with a painful intensity that was not unlike a cat afraid of falling, while the heels of his boots had implanted themselves into the bottom of your ribcage. He regarded each deposit of grime and rust with narrowed eyes and a tight frown, claws pressing further into your skin.

Disdain, an anticipatory shade of it as if he had been expecting the mess, was the main ingredient of his question, but the hint of genuine curiosity gave you enough of a reason to answer. "The Company doesn't waste money on beauty. The food court is nicer, though." The bitter amusement in your voice that bordered on a chuckle earned a look of confusion from the extraterrestrial.

The dining room moonlighted as a common area.

The walls sported a labyrinthine pattern as if they had been designed to emulate the point of view of someone looking down at a hedge maze from the sky.

A cylindrical shape with six monitors attached to it drooped from the section of the ceiling that overlooked the round dining table, with three brown and white couches surrounding the table that appeared to be welded to the floor. The surface of the table was polished and grey like marble.

Zim loosened his grip to lean higher above your shoulders, stretching towards the coffee machine and containers of dry food sequestered in the corner. His head twitched up and down like an insect sniffing scraps. A foul odour seemed to greet him, for he recoiled and stuck his tongue, which resembled a worm, out.

As the footsteps of your crewmates approached from behind, eager to fill their stomachs and chat about trivial subjects, you hastened your pace to the storage room. The dining area was disappearing when the faces of Darius and Luise emerged at the rear of the first couch.

The fear of being followed hung over your mind as if eyes were peering from every crevice in the vessel, and you dashed inside the storage room with mild tightness in your gut.

Noticing the lack of additional doors, Zim dropped to the floor with a clank. He walked around you and stood in the centre of the room, hands rigidly planted on his hips. A dim, magenta light cast a subtle glow upon the walls, where crates of cargo lay in stacks. The redolence of musk and balm clung to the air.

The extraterrestrial swung around to look at you with abject horror. "You expect Zim to dawdle in this pigsty?!" he howled like a king torn from his castle and pitched into a shanty, eyes wide and disbelieving. His lips drew back into an expression of disgust, and he held his arms in front of his body as if hoping that you would offer an antidote for his shock.

"I can't book the Ritz," you whispered despite knowing that the alien would not understand the joke. Hearing one of his screams without a glass helmet to muffle it was like dragging a fork across a porcelain plate, and you withdrew from the room as the door began to slide shut. It was the first of several days to begin and end with distant shrieks and quiet scratching.

* * *

"ZIM DOES NOT need your filthy human dirt!" he had declared with great fervour the first time you brought a collection of leftovers. The extraterrestrial had smacked the tray out of your grasp and eyed the beans as if they were a poorly hidden beartrap, causing you to believe that his reaction stemmed from food allergies rather than the absence of a need to eat.

When his resistance persisted no matter the variety of scraps, which was admittedly limited due to the vacuum of space, your visits to the storage room decreased from multiple times every day to once every second or third day. It was then that he revealed an occasional taste for human food.

Standing in the doorway, a humanoid automaton was propped against the neighbouring wall, drenched in a wave of the dull light above. Its joints were inflexible and unresponsive to any attempts at moving them, and its synthetic skin, while brittle and peeling in some places, was free of fungus but overcome by dust and age. It was dressed in the same uniform as the crew, albeit one that had faded and wrinkled from neglect, yet it found itself among the trash.

Zim gazed at the inactive android with an odd sort of recognition as if the static, polished visage of the automaton conjured pleasant memories. "Must everything you humans create remind you of yourselves?" A hint of earnest amusement lingered in his voice, which had lowered from its usual screaming heights into a calm murmur, but the touch of unresolved frustration prompted you to retract your last step.

His eyes darted to meet yours, followed by the slightest tilt of his head. "What troubles you, human? Do you not respect the truth?" Despite the wig and contact lenses obscuring every questionable trait but the green skin and the pink tunic that could have been dismissed as an eccentric style, this hastily conceived disguise seemed powerless to mask the inhuman being that had taken to interrogating you.

"I suppose you create what you know," was your eventual response, one given after scanning a random array of objects in nonplussed deliberation. The string of questions reached into paradoxes of human nature, a topic for which almost any worthwhile answer would have required hours of reflection. Your simplification of the complex matter and subsequently apparent disinterest in it evoked a show of disappointment from the alien.

Upon narrowing his eyes, he returned his attention to the android.

"Zim does not create." He raised a hand towards the torso of the automaton as if he were a child about to ask for his parent to hold him, only to ball his fingers into a fist that quivered with subdued ire. "Zim conquers." The extraterrestrial bared his teeth and angled his head to the ground, inspecting the android through the roof of his gaze.

His critical stare flitted to the tray of leftovers in your grasp. "I see you've brought more of that sickening human grub."

There was an inquisitive edge in his voice, hidden in the gale of disdain, that conveyed a reluctance to approach but a willingness to entertain as if he were waiting for you to eat it in front of him or throw it against the wall. When you did neither of those things and instead watched him with cautious patience, Zim raised a fist to his eye and rubbed the contact lens.

"Itchy human contraption," he muttered before ambling in your direction.

The meal, which consisted of dry cereal because it was insipid and harboured only the dull smell of wheat, was eaten with visible discomfort. His eyes crinkled to slits, and the rotations of his jaw were slow and forced. Swallowing the grain was like swallowing rocks, the food dumping into a stomach that had no idea what to do with it.

Zim seldom finished a bowl. A few bites were all he could manage before his body punished him for filling it with foreign and unnecessary materials. His digestive threshold was nearing its peak for the day, but as you sat on a crate and spoke of an Earth he did not remember, he found he had consumed the cereal without a memory of it.

* * *

"THIS IS THE third time today you've brought your scraps to storage," accused Darius, his eyebrows rising and falling in sync with his words.

You pushed the moving door with your palm as if it would compel the mechanism to close sooner. Without fully turning to face him, you watched his look of suspicion grow from an uncertain idea into a staunch belief through the corner of your eye. "Mmm, you keeping count?"

He viewed your endeavour to stall the conversation as an admission of guilt, and his voice dropped its commanding intensity in favour of quiet smugness. "Yeah-" he offered a slight nod of his head "-because you've been doing the same thing for the past three days."

Storing extra food was an improbable justification considering the crew had only awoken from hypersleep a few weeks prior, but you coasted through the argument on the backs of caution and safety. Darius, having made his paranoid streak as obvious as the sun in the sky, was susceptible to the right blend of what-ifs.

His lack of immediate knowledge of the passcode, a task that traditionally rested on the security officer, urged him not to alienate you completely. Teeth clenched and lips pursed, he had returned to the dining area.

A series of metallic percussions emitted from the ventilation shaft that left the storage room and curved through the inside of the right wall.

The duct joined into a crawl space that ran above your head for the length of the corridor, a space designed to provide an accessible passageway to the inner workings of the vessel in the event of a short circuit or engine overheating. It was more convenient than removing sheets of metal from the walls, but the absence of light and reign of darkness had at once obtained a degree of menace far superior to its innocent purpose.

The sound was reminiscent of a musician striking a bass drum.

When you continued down the hall with slow, wary steps meant to test the patience of your observer, it morphed into the clanks of claws tapping steel.

The crawl space had a chain-link floor that emulated the pattern of a honeycomb.

You reacted to the noise, and as your head was turning, a shadow retreated from the corner of your vision. Eyes flitting between the crevices in the links of the chain, you searched for an outline so vigorously that you began to doubt the validity of any findings.

While the existence of the sound was unquestionable, fear was often self-fulfilling. The fruitless search proved that whatever was tailing you had been swallowed by the darkness. Your fingers pressed the correct sequence of keys with expert speed, a learned attribute drawn from months of every door requiring a passcode to use.

Even as the chatter and smell of bread from the common area flooded your ears and nose, it was not until the door obscured it that your gaze left the crawl space.

* * *

THE SPINE OF a green spiral notebook was clutched in Darius's hand. Its pages were white like fresh snowfall and held the codes to every door on the starship, a topic that had invaded his sleep and prevented him from following his crewmates to the hypersleep chambers. The static, red light that sat atop the storage room door beckoned to his shadowy figure, and he illuminated the remainder of the path with his flashlight.

Zim stood where the light and the shadows combined, his backside shrouded in darkness while his front shone with brilliant lustre as if it were a diamond. His eyes, which had been fixed on the captain before the light revealed them to be, observed the man's approach with deliberate intensity.

Darius briefly pondered whether a few strikes with the flashlight in his hand would be enough to kill the extraterrestrial, but his focus was diverted by a pouring of blame onto your head.

The black pigment of his bouffant hair, which sported a grey stripe in the centre, had been invisible among the dense shadows, but with the introduction of Darius's flashlight, it shone like a pit of tar. Lavender eyes looked up at the captain with the blank interest of a solitary animal observing a sign of life, and the extraterrestrial's mouth was reduced to a straight line.

The absence of a visible nose caused Darius to bend his knees, squint, and lean forward.

Zim's eyes, while similar to his own in colour and structure, were unnaturally large, claiming nearly a third of the alien's face. The glossy texture of his sclera reflected the light source like a mirror, and the notion that Zim had concealed his real eyes became entrenched in the captain's mind.

The extraterrestrial's head rocked up and down as he scanned Darius, pupils shrinking in contempt as if confirming some unknown piece of information.

A wave of dread crashed over Darius when Zim's hair began to detach from his skull. It teetered to one side before plummeting to the floor, the appearance of thread and glue on its underside exposing it as a wig. Twin antennas unfurled atop his head as if they were a nest of writhing snakes and elongated into an erect stance, with the tips slightly curled towards Darius.

The contact lenses popped out of the alien's eye sockets before sliding down his cheeks, revealing a pair of solid ruby eyes that bulged from his head like goose eggs. A caramel fluid with the viscous consistency of peanut butter leaked from his eyes, which were red and swollen around the edges.

A sound that fondled the line between a groan and a howl, vaguely human but possessing no humanity, began to rise in the extraterrestrial's throat, and a pointed tongue akin to a flexible needle sprang from his mouth.

Rows of round teeth glistened with saliva and absorbed the light, each one resembling the zipper of a jacket. The gaping hole in the back of his mouth expanded as his jaws contorted into a sinister mockery of a smile.

Four legs with the gangly design of a spider protruded from his back. The appendages were coated in metallic paint that glinted under the flashlight's reach, their joints too rigid and thin to be organic. They jabbed the ground like anchors plunging into the seafloor, bits of rock and steel leaping out of place, and lifted Zim into the air.

The mechanical legs spun in the opposite direction and latched onto the chain-link floor of the crawl space.

Darius pursued with his flashlight, uncovering the massive split in the chains that drooped towards the ground. It was an opening produced by a robust force, one that could snap bones and crush bodies as if it were the hand of a deity.

As the extraterrestrial suspended himself above the captain, a sense of unconditional inferiority and existential weakness, like an ant beholding the heart of a tsunami, gripped Darius's being.

The front left PAK leg swung forward in a diagonal motion, sweeping across his neck and upper chest. A shaky, defeated breath that cracked with pain slipped from his lips as no more than a whisper.

Darius collapsed onto his back, rattling the brass grate that brushed his fingers. Sanguine fluid leaked from a gash that began at the right side of his ribcage and ended at the left corner of his lower jaw.

Zim descended from the rafters like a leopard examining a fresh kill, imbedding the tips of his PAK legs into the section of the floor that cradled the captain to form an outline of the body.

The extraterrestrial swayed back and forth between the direction of the dining area to check for rebellious eaters gorging themselves while their crewmates slept and the direction of the sleeping quarters for insomniacs prone to wandering. His antennas wiggled in an up-and-down rhythm, and he drew nearer to the corpse with a morbid assortment of pride and curiosity.

The hind legs of his PAK curled around the now-dead Darius's shoulders, scooping the body off the ground with the practical gentleness of one wishing to keep their presence a secret. Releasing a whirr, the front legs hooked onto the self-made hole in the ceiling and propelled the extraterrestrial into the crawl space.

* * *

WHEN LUISE RUSHED into the sleeping quarters with a bloody flashlight and tear-stained cheeks, you had tumbled out of a hypersleep chamber with chapped lips and a dry throat. She wept about a dark puddle in the corridor outside the dining room and Darius's apparent disappearance.

The loss of his domineering personality was not a crisis by itself, but the potential killer was enough to call the rest of the crew into the common area.

Deciding Zim's guilt without a shred of tangible evidence, leaving a vague distrust of the unknown to be the backbone of the argument, was presumptuous at best and fatal at worst. Still, the thought lingered in the forefront of your mind as you entered the passcode to the storage room door.

The semblance of a human, its features too mangled and disfigured to be called a person, laid supine on the metallic table in the centre of the room. A pair of legs and arms dangled from the sides, but the grotesque cavities that decorated the body like tattoos and exposed its innards to the light gave the appendages the illusory sense of belonging to a separate creature.

The sterile and pungent stench of antiseptics and aromatic cedar, a kind of medicinal odour that repelled scavengers and induced sickness in the faint of heart, clung to the air.

Unwilling to approach further, what little bit of visibility into the chest and stomach you managed had revealed sunken and white organs. The skin was absent around the head and neck, and two gaping holes replaced the eyes.

The complete lack of blood in or near the remains caused it to imitate a cushion that had deflated because of a tear. Each incision traced the body with surgical exactness, impossibly clean and expressing a level of precision that was almost too perfect for reality.

Zim dropped from the ceiling and landed on his feet with the dexterity of a mountain lion, his arms outstretched in a manner resembling an emperor announcing victory to his warriors. "Rejoice, human!"

Crimson streaked across his face as if someone had wiped a bloodstained hand on it, and the front of his tunic had sacrificed its pink colouring for a viscous magenta. Bits of flesh hung from his gloves, with dark droplets coasting the length of his fingers and tinting his black leggings.

"For Zim has acquired his first human test subject!" His lips drew back and his eyes widened to form a strained, ebullient expression. "Rejoice with Zim." A tremor invaded his limbs before he paused to look at you with expectant joy, oblivious to the sense of nausea pervading your gut.

"Why would you—"

The extraterrestrial closed his eyes and rested his hands on his hips. "I am practicing the human art of co-operation. You—" he opened an eye "—in your narrow, little quest for vengeance, desire to retaliate this flesh pig's transgression."

After flicking his wrist at the mutilated mockery of life behind him, he pressed a hand to his chest and turned his head upwards. "And I, with my superior Irken intelligence, require a human subject to dissect."

"You took his organs?"

The inability to thoroughly process this grisly scene that painted your face in contorted shades of bewilderment and fright and that robbed your voice of discernible words puzzled Zim. Eyes wide and free of remorse, he met your struggle with unfettered poise.

"It is Zim's mission to harvest the organs of every human onboard."

The alarm of someone who realised the error of his words only after speaking them muddled his composure, and his eyes crinkled in a hasty display of benevolence. "Well, not your organs."

Whether the comment was a sincere promise meant to comfort you or a desperate attempt to mask his true intentions, which he had just flaunted like a new coat, you were unconvinced of your safety. Remaining inside the storage room seemed an invitation for further dissent, so you slid your foot towards the exit.

The extraterrestrial pressed his fingertips together and straightened his posture, attaining a regal stance. "As a show of gratitude for your earlier assistance, Zim shall leave your organs intact."

Zim extended his leg in a vertical position and spun on his heel to face the mutilated remains, mechanical legs bursting from his PAK. "Come, human! Look upon Zim's work and be amazed."

As you slammed your palm into the control panel, the hydraulics of the door released a loud hiss.

Zim pivoted in the direction of the entrance, his countenance twisting with shock and betrayal. "You pitiful spy!" came his enraged shriek of exaggerated vowels, each word rising in volume and taking longer to pronounce than the last.

The middle finger on his right hand outstretched to point at you, and his facial features stretched to such an unnatural extent that his skin imitated a strip of rubber.

The final sight to greet you before the door severed your view of the extraterrestrial was his body succumbing to a violent tremor. The steel that, in an earthbound world, would have provided a sense of security merely amplified the malevolent energy leaking through the crevices like a dam begging to break.

The subsequent boom of Zim charging the door caused your heart to palpitate, urging you to turn and scurry in the opposite direction.

Less and less time passed between each bang as his protests evolved from frantic yells, which consisted of demands for you to open the door and vivid declarations of the depravity of humanity, into incomprehensible screams of rage. The grating sound of claws stripping the metallic texture of the door as if it were a banana peel pumped a second rush of adrenaline into your limbs.

The commotion on the opposite side of the door ceased, only to be replaced with a series of percussive clangs that ascended the ventilation shaft.

"Heavy damage sustained by interior storage room door." The futile proclamation from the artificial intelligence underscored the rapid clanks of PAK legs nearing your position.

Your footsteps grew clunky and forceful as you hurled yourself at the door to the dining area, knees buckling and hands grazing the floor to keep moving.

The head of the engineer, seeking to investigate the announcement, filled the gap between the door and the wall. As they opened their mouth to question your appearance, you knocked them to the ground by sprinting inside.

Grey noodles and half-empty beer cans sailed into the air, drenching every napkin on the table and blanketing the floor with clumps of food and overturned plastic containers. Bits of soggy paper and loose collections of cereal created tripping hazards, and a small puddle accumulated beneath the dining table.

Shouts of surprise and fright clamoured in every corner of the room as crewmembers collided with each other and dragged utensils off the table in a frenetic struggle to retain balance.

The shattering of porcelain plates failed to mask the rumbles emitting from the overhead ventilation system, and like a balloon popping under pressure, the section of the ceiling that overlooked the dining table exploded.

Sparks of electricity and glass shards cascaded down upon the table in a squall of light and ringing, with a handful of pieces bouncing to the floor. A mess of mechanical limbs and bulging eyes swooped onto the metallic surface, fists balled and teeth bared.

"You betray Zim?!"

Senses heightened by the frenzy enveloping his thoughts, the extraterrestrial followed the medic, who was tumbling past him into a flurry of paper shreds and spilt beer, with his head. "Your miserable species is not allowed to betray Zim!"

He had crouched and gripped the side of the table, preparing to impale the fallen human with his PAK legs, when the hiss of an adjacent door opening captured his attention.

The sight of you retreating to the armoury infuriated him, and he stood with a call for confrontation. "Human, get back here and face me!"

The words spewed from his twitching lips like a feral cry as fury and malice consumed his movements. When his demand was unheeded, the violent enthusiasm that guided his behaviour possessed his PAK. The mechanical legs began to slash the fluorescent lights one by one, and the room was plagued by intermittent flashes of darkness as the lights flickered and cracked.

A hysterical Luise scrambled to follow you, accidentally bumping Zim in her panic to reach the armoury.

The extraterrestrial lurched forward. Instinctive umbrage filled his thoughts, but upon recognizing the woman, it swelled to volcanic wrath. He sprang from the table and dug his claws into her shoulders. "Get out of my way!" shrieked Zim, his tongue protruding from his mouth in anger and dotting her face with saliva.

The PAK legs abandoned their self-imposed task of engulfing the room in shadows and, with a metallic squeal, plunged into the navigator's stomach.

Screams of panic and agony that overlapped and fought for dominance, accompanied by further crashes and thumps, echoed from behind. The door muffled the cacophony of woe but could not obscure the images populating your mind.

Rows of black lockers lined the walls of the armoury, and you slid a key card down the door of each one like a cashier scanning a cart with one of everything in the store while other customers hollered in impatience.

As if your superiors had plotted your downfall, the shelves were all empty. The only weapon to have survived this alleged purge was a flamethrower. It was the length and width of an adult ball python, with its nozzle barely fitting inside the confines of the locker and a fuel tank collecting dust at the bottom.

You slipped the leather straps over your shoulders and hoisted the incendiary device into your arms.

The lilting rhythm of various klaxon alarms wailing in different sectors filled the spaceship.

An automated voice erupted from the entire intercom system like a collective entity, each recording of the warning blending into another with flawless precision to enhance the sense of urgency.

"Self-destruct sequence initiated. The ship will self-destruct in T-minus ten minutes."

The cheery emptiness, devoid of any genuine fear or concern and articulating what little inflection its programmers had allowed, betrayed the horrific nature of the announcement.

A drone reverberated through the room like a strike of lighting, a click marking the initial swell of noise. The rumbling, like the hums of a massive beast or the roar of a distant thunderstorm, descended in pitch and tempo until it mimicked a dying engine slowing to silence.

The weakening of the florescent lights coalesced with the sound, and the glow flickered like a candle struggling to remain lit. Within a few seconds, the room was enclosed in a case of thick darkness that seemed to compress your body.

Emergency lights bathed the shadows in waves of electric red. Where pools of black once reigned, viscous shades of scarlet and vermillion absorbed the area. It was like gazing into the core of a red giant surrounded by the inky depths of outer space, and your overwhelmed eyes failed to recognize the shelf bolstering your weight.

Every piece of machinery gleamed with a violent lustre that caused bursts of pain to twist the inside of your head and panic to invade your breaths.

Piercing laughter echoed from the air vent bordering the east side of the room, which led to the main corridors and common area.

Zim burst from the layer of darkness that filled the service ducts and rattled the floor with his landing. His antennas twitched in various directions before pointing to you, and the extraterrestrial turned his head with agonizing slowness.

Your distress seemed to please him, for he looked at you with mischievous glee. As his lips receded to the sides of his head, the red glow of the emergency lighting stained his fangs. "Feeling light in the head, human?"

His voice was laced with a malign awareness that taunted your plight and made your next breath escape as a strangled gasp. "While you were playing with those filthy humans, I memorized the design of this vessel."

The bitterness that lowered his voice for the first half of the sentence stirred a rise of choler and antipathy, and your grip on the flamethrower tightened. Zim halted his approach and scanned the unfamiliar weapon with narrowed eyes, expressing the first show of fear towards a product of humanity that you had witnessed.

This discovery injected a rush of courage into your mind.

A spurt of flames prompted him to leap away, and the door that stood behind him no longer seemed like a hopeless fantasy. You held the trigger down and scurried to the opposite side of the room. The extraterrestrial fled from the gust of fire back into the ventilation shaft, his PAK legs gripping the wall like a frightened spider.

Instead of directly tailing you, Zim pursued through the service ducts.

The mundane appearance of the hanger door betrayed the intricate pipe systems and cargo that was too large to be kept in the storage room. It was the most spacious area of the starship, and the distance between yourself and the escape pod was akin to half a football field.

You had not taken more than three or four steps forward when Zim crashed into your side. Spitting and hissing, he grasped any piece of the flamethrower he could fit into his palms and attempted to yank it from your grip.

His struggle would have succeeded if his PAK legs had not been slower to reach the ground, for this momentary lack of support allowed you to press your foot against his stomach and kick him into the flanking wall.

A funnel-shaped cloud of steam gushed from the pipe beside his head, caking his face with an onslaught of searing heat. Zim collapsed in a frenzy of pain, and his PAK legs began thrashing like a robot doused in water. As the pipe was split into two halves and propelled towards the ceiling, a collection of steel support beams plummeted to the ground.

The long objects whose weight was similar to that of a truck landed on his back and legs. With a laborious grunt that evolved into a scream of defiance, he sprang up and threw the debris off himself as if it were no more than a thin blanket draped over his shoulders. It clattered to the floor in a cacophony of rumbling and metallic screeching.

You had no more than a handful of seconds to prepare before Zim lunged across the hanger, extending the flamethrower in front of your chest as a diminutive shield. He slammed into it and wrapped his claws around the side of the nozzle and leather grip, and he did so with such immense force that you staggered backwards into the wall.

The surface was cold and stiff like a glacier against your body, which ached and begged for rest.

Through the pall of steam that muddied your vision, you could not miss the smile on his face. It was wide, uncompromising, and, despite the many reasons, flimsy or stable, to curse your name and species, not a side effect of baring his teeth in strain.

He was deriving genuine enjoyment from simply combating you with no real desire to end your life, for if death was his goal, a quick slash by one of his PAK legs, which you had no hope of parrying, would have spilt your guts onto the hanger floor.

Watching the mechanical limbs bob and slither, it suddenly became less of a fight and more of a competition in stamina.

Every attack, since the moment you had entered the hanger, was designed not to draw blood but to exhaust you. Whenever you attempted to shove him away, he would push back with enough strength to nullify your effort but not enough to knock you off your feet.

Instead of finishing the battle, he awaited your next move with the frenzied enthusiasm of a gladiator who respected his opponent.

Twisting the weapon up and down and exploiting the height difference, you watched with gratification as the extraterrestrial struggled to simultaneously remain balanced and clutch the flamethrower. His PAK legs had begun to search for places in the crowded floor to imbed themselves when you heaved him back into the line of steam.

"You now have two minutes to abandon ship. The ship will self-destruct in T-minus two minutes." As electric sparks and the distant sound of alarms echoed in the vibrating walls, the vessel itself seemed to acknowledge its impending demise.

Allowing the flamethrower to go with him was a necessary sacrifice, for your time to live was dwindling with each second the computer mainframe processed. While the countdown was not yet audible, every heartbeat was treated as a step closer to doom.

Your legs did not seem fast enough, so you leapt onto the floor of the singular escape pod. The metal floor was coarse and jagged like crushed asphalt.

After slapping the door controls, you leaned against the wall and surveyed the lifeboat. Its tight design and dual pilot seats welcomed one less survivor than it was meant to sustain. Sparse light peeked through the windshield, which faced the endless depths of outer space, and the twin windows that were shaped like half an octagon on the door.

Jumping at a thud on the glass, you spun around to find Zim peering into the shuttlecraft.

He raked his three-fingered hand across a small portion of the window, each claw producing a vertical stripe that appeared white against the clear glass. Humid gales of his breath beat the solid in the form of intermittent mist that obscured his face.

The transparent nature of the material was unforgiving at that moment, and you almost expected him to walk through it.

As if beckoned to an unseen objective, the extraterrestrial retreated and disappeared into the shadows. The thought of him sprinting out of the darkness to reenact his assault on the storage room door gave you the last rush of courage necessary to activate the launch sequence.

With the pipes hissing and the orange lights on the ceiling revolving, the escape pod ejected from the bottom of the starship.

The distant shape of the space tug gradually shrank from a behemoth to a speck before it was lost among the infinite array of stars.

A blinding explosion swelled across what seemed to be a massive expanse of space but, in reality, was a mere anthill collapsing into the dirt. Shock waves that resembled magma in colour expanded in every direction, and witnessing the sight was like peering into the belly of an active volcano.

Through the brilliant light illuminating this desolate corner of the universe, a black dot pursued the escape pod.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

#Yandere #Yandere x You #Yandere x Reader #Yandere x Y/N #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenario #Yandere Oneshot #Yandere Invader ZIM #Yandere ZiM #Invader ZIM x Reader #ZiM x Reader #ZiM #Invader ZIM #IZ #Yandere Writing #Yandere Alien #Alien x Reader #Gender Neutral Reader #X Reader #Reader Insert #Platonic Yandere #Imagines

[to-star-lake]

Mars [ IV ]

pairing | kth x reader genre | ahistorical au, military au, yandere!taehyung word count | 4.7k rating/warnings | M, 18+

He couldn’t sleep a wink that night. 

He’d pulled up the armchair from beside to fire next to the bed and sat, watching your sleeping form, listening to the soft sounds of your breathing. He leaned back into the seat, sinking deep into the cushion, his body completely spent, exhausted, while his mind reeled.

What he feared most was that you would wake in the morning and bow to him, greeting him with ‘Captain’ as you slide out from under the covers, and go about your day as though nothing had happened. 

And perhaps worse than if you avoided looking into his eyes, was the possibility that the coldness would return to your expression. 

Or worse yet, that he might fall asleep here, and he knew if he did, he would drift off into the deepest sleep he might’ve had in years, but then he might wake, and find you gone, discovering that you had run away.

These thoughts spun endlessly in his mind, and he watched every little movement you made while you slept. The little whimpers that made him wonder if you were having a bad dream. The way you’d flip onto your back, but lean your head to the side, your cheek squished against the pillow. The way the blanket was pulled to the side as you shifted, revealing your bare leg, your skin soft and smooth in the firelight. 

It wasn’t long before the early light of dawn began creeping through the windows and he watched as you were waking from a deep slumber, stirring. 

He felt a tightness in his chest when he saw you shift under the sheets, but for a second his fear subsided, replaced momentarily by a brief contentment, seeing you stretch your arms up by your ears, rolling onto your stomach, whining softly into the pillow. He almost smiled again, but the anxiety quickly returned as he watched you push yourself up to sitting with your hand. 

He sat frozen to his seat beside the bed, consciously taking purposeful inhales and exhales as he watched you bring both hands to your eyes, rubbing them softly. You lifted your head and he caught his breath, thinking his heart might stop then. 

Your eyes looked sleepy, but they held tiny little stars, illuminated by the sunlight, the corners of your mouth down-turned, cheeks slightly puffy. He could tell the exact moment when your eyes focused on him - because your eyes opened wider, and your gaze met his directly. 

He forced an exhale, realizing he’d been holding his breath, and felt something release from his chest, like the heavy boulder of fear and apprehension had been lifted, the tight knot that’d formed in his stomach had unwound. He breathed easy. 

You did not look at him coldly, he realized. And the way you gazed into his eyes, it may have even..could it be possible..it looked like your eyes held a certain fondness. 

“Good morning..”

Your voice, though soft and raspy from sleep, barely audible, rang to his ears in a symphony. 

“Good morning,” he managed with effort. 

He watched you adjust the sheet you had pulled up to your chest and your head moved to a microscopic tilt to the side, your lips pursed, brows knitting together, blinking. 

“Were you...watching me sleep..?”

He heard a sound escape his lips, and when his brain registered the sound, he was confounded. It was a laugh, soft and hushed, but it was laugh. 

“Yes,” he replied sheepishly, adjusting himself to sit up straighter in his seat, carefully studying the changes in your expression. 

“You didn’t sleep?”

He shook his head, propping his elbow on the handle of the chair, resting his cheek against the back of his hand. 

He saw you nod softly, looking around at the blankets. 

“I’m sorry I took your bed..” 

He shook his head again. “You don’t need to apologize,” it came out in a low whisper. He watched you intently as you nodded again, and pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. 

There was a nervous energy in the air, and it vibrated like electricity through the atoms occupying the space between the two of you. He didn’t dare take his eyes off you. He didn’t dare make a sound, or move even an inch. Because this, whatever this was, this strain, this tension, this weight in the air, was far too delicate, hanging by the last tinsel of the thinnest thread. The magic was fading as the sun rising in the sky brought light to all that was ethereal, beautiful, and fickle in the night, making it evanescent like light shining on a dark room, revealing all its secrets, destroying the mystery. 

But you made the first move. 

He watched as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed gently, pulling up the linen sheet around your chest and tugged it off the bed with you. You padded over softly to his side and sat onto the floor beside him. You leaned against his leg, and rested your head against his thigh. 

He remained completely still, seated stiffly, unsure how to move, but allowed his tensed muscles to relax when he heard your words. 

“You must try to sleep more…” he felt the warm air of your breath against his leg when you sighed. “You hardly sleep as it is..”

The smile returned to his lips, he looked down at your profile longingly, and cautiously, brought a hand to the top of your head, and gently ran his fingers through your hair. He saw you close your eyes. 

There was a strange feeling in his chest. It wasn’t the heavy, suffocating feeling of fear and anxiety that he’d been used to. It also wasn’t the sharp rush of adrenaline that he felt in battle. This was something different. It was warm, soft and fluttering, like the tiny glow in the embers when a fire was brought to life. 

---

“My mother is in poor health, and my sister can’t manage taking care of her and her own family by herself, her husband died in the war...”

“Just speak with Captain Taehyung, he’ll let you return home to help take care of your mother.” 

“Yes, you should definitely speak with the Captain, he’ll understand, I’m sure of it.” 

Jimin rolled his eyes in disgust from his seat in the far corner of the mess hall where he was having breakfast, scoffing. 

“Something the matter, sir?” Yeonjun, one of Jimin’s lieutenants, inquired from beside him at the table. 

He shook his head, picking up his mug and taking a sip of coffee. 

Captain Kim Taehyung. Simply saying the name in his head brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Captain Kim Taehyung, the principled. Captain Kim Taehyung, the incorruptible. Captain Kim Taehyung, the brave. 

Jimin had been at the compound for a couple of weeks now, helping the General assess the situation further north, determining a strategy for how to invade the last few towns still holding out. And he was getting tired of it. 

He was getting tired of the cold here in the northwest. He was getting tired of the rain, tired of the smoke that always lingered in the air, tired of the dust inside the aging walls of the estate. But most of all, he was sick and tired of Captain Kim Taehyung. 

Sick and tired of hearing the men speak of how valiantly he fights in battle, speaking endlessly of his great deeds in the war. Sick and tired of hearing the servant girls’ hushed whispers behind closed doors about how kind he’s been to them, about how handsome they thought him, as though the men couldn’t hear. 

He remembered meeting Taehyung for the first time four years ago, when they were both lieutenants. He remembered Taehyung was one of the General’s favorites - he was rash, quick to action, completely driven by an animalistic instinct to fight, ruthless in battle. The General loved him for this. And his men revered him, he was also brave, idiotically so, principled, and looked after his men. And women everywhere, even those who fell captive to his legion, adored him, for he was also charismatic, unconsciously so, domineering, and moody. 

But Jimin felt that he saw through it all. Jimin thought him selfish, juvenile, and hateful. He had completely ignored Jimin’s many offers of friendship. When he looked at Taehyung’s face, all he could see was the expression he made whenever they were in each other’s company. He looked at Jimin with pure disdain. Actually, he would’ve preferred a look of disdain. More accurately is to say that Taehyung didn’t look at him. Or rather when he did, he didn’t see him. In fact, this was the case for everyone - he could be looking at someone directly in their eyes, and yet they might as well have not been there, because he did not see them. He hated how small and insignificant Taehyung made him feel, like he didn’t exist. 

But in the last few weeks, Jimin saw something shift in Taehyung. Not some small detail to be overlooked, like homesickness or a sudden fit of rage as many of the men are prone to after years of war. No, this was something much more profound. A shift of the tectonic plates of his core being rather than a temporary state of mind. 

Before, if Jimin would happen to glance over at Taehyung during a war council, he’d see what he always expected to see - Taehyung seated low in his chair, his chin resting on his hand propped on the handle, looking at nothing, forbidding and brooding, and contributing nothing to the discussion at hand because all he had to do was wait for the General’s orders, and he would carry it out with surgical precision, he was a master of execution. 

But now, when Jimin sat in the office of the General, looking at Taehyung across the long mahogany table, he could see that his eyes wandered off. And whereas before he would stare at nothing, he was simply not there, now, Jimin could tell his mind was occupied with something else. Something that made Taehyung’s eyes appear to glow. Something that made him shake his leg and tap his feet with impatience. Something that made him run off as fast as he could as soon as the meeting was over. 

“Did you hear what he said to me?!” the General fumed, slamming a roll of maps down onto his desk, hands on his hips rotundus hips, pacing. 

Jimin leaned back in his chair, a wily grin appearing on his face as he watched, in amusement, the General huff and puff in exasperation. 

“Of course I heard, I was right here,” he hummed. The General was referring to the meeting that just concluded with the three of them. The General was frustrated to discover that one of the towns to the north, one of the last ones standing, had an artillery and had built themselves a stronghold and could hold out for months, maybe years, if attacked. 

He had looked at Taehyung desperately and said, “What do we do, Taehyung, my boy, what do we do about them?”

Taehyung didn’t even hear this, and the General was forced to repeat his question again, red-faced and aggravated. 

“Nothing,” he had replied simply, looking directly at the General. But Jimin could tell by the look in Taehyung’s eyes that he didn’t really see the General. He was half certain that he didn’t even hear the question the second time. 

“Oh, the insolence!” 

Jimin’s smile grew in proportion to the General’s frustration. 

“What is going on with him lately, I swear. You know he used to be so good, he’d actually listen to what I said. He’d just do whatever it is I say without question,” the General shook his head, beads of sweat forming at his temples. “Nowadays he’s always questioning my plans, wanting to send men home, and you know what?” 

Jimin clasped his hands together in his lap, beaming in amusement. 

“The other day he said he might want to retire,” the General enunciated the word, his mustache twitching with revulsion as he said the word. “Retire??! How dare he??! Just abandon the cause?! Abandon us?? After all that I’ve done for him! Why, I looked after him like he was my own son, my own flesh and blood!” 

Jimin didn’t hear the rest of the General’s tirade. 

He didn’t hear because he knew the cause of this change in Taehyung. 

You. 

You, with whom he spent every spare hour with, locked in his quarters. You, whom Taehyung held doors open for, letting you enter rooms first, allowed you to roam the halls of the compound freely, and took you out on long drives to the ocean. At night the two of you would return, hair clumped and damp, skin warm and glowing, smelling of sea salt, smiling and whispering soft words to each other. 

You, whom he looked at. 

You, whom he saw.

You, who could bring a smile to his face, one that no one had ever seen. 

You, who could elicit a laugh from him, that resonant, low, basso profundo laugh that reverberated through the molecules in the air. 

 Jimin clenched his jaw at this. He hated this. He hated everything about it. 

“Captain.”

He was brought out of his thoughts by Yeonjun’s voice beside him. He was reading from a small scrap of paper that a foot soldier just passed him. 

“The scouts have returned from the north, they brought a spy with them.” 

Jimin felt the smile return to his face. 

---

The air was light for Taehyung. Lighter than it’d ever been in his life. So light, he feared you might float off into the stratosphere and he may never catch you. 

The symphonic tune of your laughs rang and echoed through the air around him. He loved the way your eyes held little stars when you spoke, he loved the way you’d collapse onto your arm on the table when you were laughing too hard, he loved the way you said his name. 

In the last few weeks with you, he’d forgotten all about the war. Each day the sky was blue, and the sun shone bright for him. Each day he woke to the birds singing outside, and would find you still asleep beside him. 

He’d cautiously begun bringing up plans with you - plans to leave, plans to run away, plans to start anew somewhere far away from this place, somewhere quiet and peaceful by the ocean. 

“But the General...he’ll never let you leave...and you shouldn’t do this for me, please tell me I haven’t made you feel like you have to give anything up for me,  you can’t leave your soldiers...and why? Why would you?”

Because you make me want to be a better man.

He’d stare at you, his heart aching, yearning to whisk you away someplace where the two of you might live like none of this had ever happened. 

A knock came at the door, interrupting his thoughts. 

The door creaked open and Soobin entered. “Sir, Captain Jimin is here to see you.” 

“I’m busy.” 

Soobin clasped his hands together nervously, shifting. 

“What?”

“It’s just..he’s outside..”

“Captain Taehyung!” Jimin’s voice boomed, turning the corner and waltzing into the room. 

He watched as Jimin’s eyes caught onto your body, seated across the table from him, and spoke quickly to discourage any comment he might make. 

“What can I do for you, Captain?”

“Oh?” Jimin grinned, humming. “It appears I’m interrupting a lovely breakfast,” Jimin’s eyes remained fixed on you. 

“It’s no interruption,” Taehyung sighed, leaning forward in his seat. “Please, speak.” 

“Hmm, well, since you ask,” Jimin chided, moving to stand beside you at the table, far too close for Taehyung’s liking. “I do have some business to discuss with you.” He watched Jimin place a hand on the back of your seat, and leaned over you. “You understand, right sweetheart? Tae and I just have a little bit of business to discuss.” 

It took all of Taehyung’s power not to lunge across the table and punch his lights out right then and there. And he would’ve, if he hadn’t seen you shoot him a look, he could tell by the look in your eyes you didn’t want any trouble. 

“I’ll go down and see if Lady Inah needs any help..”

He watched you leave his room with a concerned eye. 

“Quite the domestic setup you’ve got going on here, my friend,” Jimin continued in his sarcastic tone, taking a seat in your chair, reaching a hand out and taking a strawberry from your plate, popping it into his mouth. 

“What do you want.”

“My scouts returned from the northern cities,” he chewed, the sound made Taehyung grimace. “They caught someone. A spy. He must be interrogated.” 

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, now if you’ll excuse me,” Taehyung moved to stand. 

“Well, see the thing is,” Jimin brought the napkin you’d been using to his mouth, wiping a smear of cream from the corner of his lips. “I think this interrogation requires someone with a certain...skill set. This guy is definitely a soldier, and he’s most likely trained in counter-intelligence. He’s not going to talk easily.” 

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” 

Jimin chuckled. “Oh, come now Tae, you know my hands are far too delicate for this kind of work. Yours, however..”

A shadow fell over Taehyung’s eyes, his hands closed into tightened fists. He was quiet for a moment. 

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“Oh?” 

Taehyung stole a glance at his bed but regretted it immediately, because Jimin noticed. 

“Her?” Jimin asked incredulously, but Taehyung could tell he was only feigning shock. “Really? Captain Kim Taehyung, the most brutish of soldiers is concerned over the opinion of some lowly servant girl?” 

“That’s enough,” he stood, taking a single, extended stride toward Jimin, and grabbed the collar of his shirt. “Get out of my sight.” 

Jimin grabbed his hands and shook them from his shirt, standing up, re-adjusting his tie. 

“I wonder what the General would say if he found out your unwillingness to cooperate,” he turned to leave. “I wonder what will happen to you if you lose the General’s favor.” Jimin turned, shooting Taehyung a vile look. “I wonder what will happen to her.” 

Taehyung felt his fists clench so tightly, his fingernails dug into the palm of his hand. 

“Where is he? The spy.”

He followed Jimin down the long stairways and halls until they reached the basement of the estate. The air was thick and muggy, the walls covered in mold and dirt. At the end of the dark, drafty space was a makeshift cell, a large cage cast in wrought-iron. 

Inside Taehyung could see a man, maybe around his age, perhaps a little bit older, strung up in a chain by the wrists, his toes just millimeters from the ground, and he struggled desperately reached for the ground, trying in vain to relieve some of the pressure and pain in his shoulders. He noticed the man had been stripped down to his briefs, and had a gash on his hairline, the blood had dried, streams of it stuck to his forehead. 

“I’ve prepared him for you, just how you like them,” Jimin sneered, unlocking the door and stepping inside the cage. 

Taehyung followed him inside. He watched Jimin pick up a folding chair that was leaned against the side, unfolding it and taking a seat in the corner. He gestured towards a table that held a large, rolled canvas. 

“I think you’ll find everything you need in there,” Jimin smiled from his seat, crossing his legs and clasping his hands in his lap, as though he were sitting down for a theater production. 

Taehyung reached a hand out and untied the buckle that held the canvas rolled shut, giving it a light brush and it rolled open on the table before him. He heard a shuddered breath leave his mouth. The large shearing scissors, the serrated knives, the saw, the pliers.. They brought back memories for Taehyung of a time he no longer wished to remember. There was a time when he wielded these against flesh and bone without a single thought. Now he was sickened at the sight of them. 

“Where’d you find him?” He turned to the man chained up before him.

“They caught him running out from behind a barn on the outskirts of the town,” Jimin replied. “He had a map on him of the city but before he was captured he ripped it to pieces, swallowing most of it but we managed to save some. What we can’t tell is where the armory is. I’m sure you can persuade him to tell us where it is,” Jimin grinned. 

“Have you tried asking him,” Taehyung sighed, only half in jest, looking up at the man’s face. 

He didn’t see fear in his eyes. He’s a soldier, he thought to himself. They’re never afraid in the beginning. 

“The city’s protected behind stone walls, is it not?” 

He saw Jimin nod in his periphery. “The only entrance is through the front gate, which I’d venture to guess they will not willingly open for us.” 

“There are always other entrances,” Taehyung said quietly, looking up at the man. “Tell us how to get into the city.” 

The man huffed. 

“Where is the armory?” 

The man made a sputtering sound with his mouth, and spat in Taehyung’s face. He heard Jimin snicker from his seat. 

He looked down, reaching a hand up to clean the bloodied spit from his face with his sleeve. He slid his coat from his shoulders, dropping it softly on the table beside his tools. 

“I’ll ask again,” he said, undoing the buttons on his sleeves, folding them neatly up above his elbows. “Where is the armory?” 

“I’m not telling you shit,” the man said, his voice crackling and scratchy, and his face swung to the side, globs of blood mixed with saliva dropped onto the concrete floor inside the cage with a splat, a loud cracking sound echoed through the air from the impact of Taehyung’s knuckles against the man’s cheek. 

“Where is it?” 

The man tugged against the iron bindings, attempting to gain some momentum in his body to swing his legs toward Taehyung but he ducked to the side, and the attempt failed the man, because the next blow that landed was against his ribs, and Taehyung could feel the crackling sensation of bone breaking against his fist as it landed against the man’s torso. 

“Where is it?”

Crack, another blow on the man’s cheek. Again, against his ribs. Again, across the mouth.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Taehyung took a step back, panting, his chest heaving. The man hanging in front of him had tried to squirm, had tried to writhe away from his blows, but now his body hung limp in front of him, his face deformed and barely recognizable under bruised and swollen cheeks and brows, his skin purple and black, blood gushing from the cuts on his face. Taehyung felt his arms aching, his knuckles bloodied and bruised. He could feel the warm splatters of the man’s blood that had fallen on his face and was slowly drying. He was shaking. 

“I think he’s passed out,” Jimin muttered from his seat. “Want me to fetch a pail of cold water? Should wake him right up.”

Taehyung barely heard his words. They’d been drowned out by a ringing in his ears that grew louder, and louder, deafening, and seemed to obscure his senses. His head hung in a daze, his eyes fixated on a small puddle of blood caught by the drain underneath the man’s dangling feet. He heard his own exhales like a faraway echo. He heard his heartbeats drumming in his chest, his eyes wide and crazed, possessed by the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

Without thought, simply on instinct, he reached out to the table and picked up a pair of pliers. He knelt down on the ground in front of the man, and lined the jaws of the pliers to the nail of the man’s big toe. He clamped down, and with a swift tug, the room once again filled with the echoes of the man’s screams. 

“Well, that’s another way to wake him, I guess.” 

Taehyung saw Jimin stand in his periphery. 

“I think you’ve got a good handle on this here, hmm?” He felt Jimin walk up beside him and place a hand on his shoulder. “I think I’ll head back up, see if the General is in need of any assistance. You’ll understand if I leave now, right? There’s no need for both of us to be here for this, is there?”

Taehyung stood, dropping the bloodied pliers onto the table and reached a hand behind the man’s head, pulling roughly at his hair so he could look into his eyes. With his other hand, he reached for the serrated knife and held it up for the man to see. 

His heart beat thunderously in his ears. 

“Did you know the appendix is considered a vestigial organ?” his voice resonated, low and menacing. 

His head was clouded by the familiar stench of sweat and iron in blood. The air here was thick, making it difficult to breathe, it was nauseating, but not for him. A switch had flipped. He could only see red. 

He brought the tip of the knife to the man’s pelvis. 

“See, I don’t actually know exactly where it is. It’s a little different in every body..” 

The man huffed rasping breaths, his teeth clenched together, stifling screams as the tip of the knife pierced his skin. 

“But I’m up for a little exploration,” Taehyung felt his face twist into a hideous grin, and if it were him from this morning, before he was brought down to this cage, before he took the first hit against the man in front of him, if he caught a glimpse of himself at that moment in a mirror, he would be repulsed, sickened, afraid. But it was too late now. A dark, malicious veil had fallen over him, accelerated by his own adrenaline and the muscle memory of inflicting pain. 

Blood spurted from where he inserted the knife into the man’s flesh, and Jimin looked away, stepping back, out of the cage. 

Taehyung heard the clank of the cage door as Jimin slammed it shut, as though he intended to lock him there with the spy - like a rabid animal. 

“Shall I have a servant bring you some towels?” Jimin hummed. 

But Taehyung couldn’t hear him. He was too far gone, his hand twisting the serrated edge of the knife further into the man’s skin, staring up at the his mangled face with crazed, dilated pupils. 

He couldn’t tell how much time passed. But at some point, he stood back from the body hanging in front of  him. Around him on the ground were pools of blood, coagulating by the drain and the still open pair of  shears, the serrated knife, the pliers. He panted harsh breaths, his arms and legs ached with exhaustion. 

The body hung lifeless in front of him, cold blood still running fresh from his face, his pelvis, his toes where more toenails had been peeled, from his hands where fingers had been broken, from his ears where the cartilage had been cut. 

The stench of sweat and blood in the air was stifling, and the sound of blood dripping should be nauseating. 

He heard footsteps approach from outside the cage. Jimin must’ve returned to check on his progress. 

“The armory is on the northwest corner of the city, in a circular building made of red brick,” Taehyung rasped. “There’s a back way into the city, used by traders and merchants.” 

He sniffed, turning. 

He froze, dropping the bloodied hunting knife from his hand. It clattered as it landed. 

He saw you, standing not three feet away from him, looking at him from outside the thick, iron bars of the cage, eyes wide, a stack of towels in your arms. 

No-

#bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts series #bts scenario #bts au #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung series #taehyung scenario #taehyung au #taehyung military au #taehyung x reader #taehyung #kim taehyung #mars the god of war

[amberdablade]

About me, who I'll write for, and what I write

Hello, Tumblr! And welcome to my little corner of the internet! On my profile, you will find short xreader stories of the reader and the DSMP and MAYBE other things. But for right now, I’ll stick to Minecraft and DSMP. You’ll probably find lots of Ranboo stuff as well, because if you haven’t noticed yet, I simp for him :D (don’t worry its not in a weird way, I just like his videos and lore) 

If you want you can call me Minx, or you can call me Amber, Blitz, whatever your fine with. Just nothing weird ;)

My pronouns are she/they and I am Bisexual/Pansexual

anyway, heres a list of what and who you can request:

Dream 

George

Sapnap

Badboyhalo

DreamXD

Nightmare

Tommy (Character only/I will except platonic yandere and platonic Xreader requests)

Tubbo (Character only/I will except platonic yandere and platonic Xreader requests)

Fundy

Purpled 

Wilbur

Ghostbur

Revivebur

Schlatt

Skeppy (fluff only)

Eret

Quackity

Karl

TechnoBlade

Philza

Captain Puffy 

Eryn

JustaMinx

Corpse

Ranboo (unlike some writers, I will except yanderes but ONLY for his character. I am also willing to do Enderwalk Ranboo requests as well)

*Ones that are not listened I will not write do to me not knowing enough about their character or their boundaries*

What I write: I am open for any requests that are Xreader, oneshots, headcannons, imagines, yandere alphabets, fluff, hybrids, and just plain yanderes. I will not accept smut (since I can't write it very good). I will also not ship characters either. Most/all of these stories will be based around y/n since that is what I write. 

Key:

Oneshot: 💙

Yandere: 🖤

Yandere Alphabet: 🖤🤍

Xreader: ❤

Headcanon:💜

Imagine:💚

Hybrid: 🧡

Fluff:💛

Just a side note, I am mostly active on Quotev, Tumblr I will visit once every two days. Here is the link to my Quotev account if ya’ll are curious: https://www.quotev.com/ANGELcindy78

That about covers it! Hope ya'll enjoy!!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Requests are Closed ♥

#dsmp #dream #sapnpa #georgenotfound #georg #dream smp #ranboo #fundy #yandere #xreader #dsmp x reader

[dsmp-aus]

Primeboys AU: Beauty and the Beast

Alright, just listen. Just listen. Consider this: platonic Beauty and the Beast AU for Primeboys. I’m a big believer in platonic yandere c!Dream, and there’s plenty of proof out there for it. This idea hit me last night scrolling through the c!Dream tag and it’s been holding my mind in a headlock all day. Please assume through the entire post I’m talking about the characters, not content creators.

-Tommy takes the roll of Belle, obviously, and Dream’s the Beast (or Dreamon in this case. Gotta love them Dreamons.). We’ve got the perfect setting for some Stockholm and Lima syndrome to settle in. The curse stays the same ‘if Dream can learn to love someone, and earn their love in return, the curse will break’, but it doesn’t have to be romantic love. Extra angst points if you’d like since Sapnap and George care for Dream but because the curse remains unbroken he doesn’t reciprocate.

-Wilbur as Tommy’s brother (stop, I’m going to cry) instead of the father. Starts out as a revolutionary meeting up with some fellow thinkers up north (Antarctic Anarchists anyone?) and gets captured in Dream’s castle. It could go by the name ‘Pandora’s Vault’ if so inclined, but I digress. After Tommy comes to take his place Wilbur’s gonna take that Pogtopia train into poor mental health that the majority of the fandom seems to focus on. Love that for him, you go you white-haired president!

-Quackity as Gaston, except he’s just trying to get Tommy to join his casino as a cook. We’ve got that beautiful hatred dynamic between Quackity and Dream already set up, as well as the ‘join my country Tommy, but you stay out Soot.’ Sexual tension between Wilbur and Quackity if you wish, but I personally don’t headcanon it for this AU.

-Charlie is Le Fou. I imagine their relationship would be very similar to what’s goin on in Las Nevadas, except Charlie’s a bit more understanding of human culture. That doesn’t mean he’s not still a goopy guy with 300 bones and is definitely a human...

-Sapnap as Lumière. Just think about it: fire. Plus their playful personalities work together.

-George as Cogsworth. We’ve got the loyal maître d' Sapnap and I think George could fit as Dream’s majordomo. If he’s awake long enough anyways. Not to mention the playful banter between George and Sapnap. With these two we’ve got the dream team all set up.

-Captain Puffy as Mrs. Potts. Best dad in the castle, for sure.

-Foolish as Chip, though instead of a small chipped cup he’s a tall goblet made of gold with emeralds inset and silver sharks. Gotta keep that shark totem motif goin!

Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of a place for Tubbo and Ranboo, except maybe extra assistants for Tommy? And there’s plenty of room for the other characters. Anyone who wants to take this further or add your own ideas, feel free to.

#c!primeboys #c!dream #c!tommy #c!quackity #c!charlie #c!sapnap #c!george #c!puffy #c!captain puffy #c!foolish #c!wilbur #beauty and the beast au #beautyandthebeastau #batbau #primeboys #dsmpau #dsmp au #dsmp

[icarushasfallenfromthestars]

Safe With Me (Yandere!Plat!Ranboo x F!Reader) 1/???

Before we start this fic, I am stating that this is a completely fictitious version of CHARACTER Ranboo, and does not involve the streamer. If this is overstepping boundaries (which I don't think it is..?) This story will be removed.

NOTE: IRL I’M A TECHNO APOLOGIST DON'T GUT ME FOR THIS STORY

ALSO THE SCREWED UP FONT IS RANBOO'S CHAT

TW: (Eventual) canon lives lost, blood, kidnapping, drugging

He was always there for you...

Without a single doubt it your mind, you knew you could turn to the Enderman hybrid and... Be safe.

He would do anything for you..

Even if it put himself in danger..

He would rather himself be covered in scars and on his last canon life than for you to have a single wound on your (s/t) coloured skin...

But even he knows that isn't possible...

You had been walking for quite awhile, but in your eyes, it was worth it. Ranboo had invited you to the Tundra to get away from life for a bit and it was perfect honestly! You had started becoming stressed out from figuring out where the other nuke was, and Ranboo had practically appeared at your side, suggesting you get away from the situation for your own well-being.

He invited you to the Tundra where he, Phil and Techno lived, telling you to disregard his neighbours and just have a sleep over with him there as the mansion wasn't finished. But... You were quite afraid of Technoblade..

While he wasn't completely wrong in his lectures before he.. You know.. destroyed everything everyone worked for... He didn't have to go about it via bloodshed, withers and taking one of yours and Tubbo's canon lives! Plus... He most likely would hate you for having a seat on the council when both Schlatt and Tubbo were in control of L'manberg...

"(Y/n)!" A happy voice rung out through the trees, causing you to shake your head to free yourself from you thoughts. Running at you though the snow was the tall and forgetful hybrid known as Ranboo.

Once he got close enough, you could hear him making soft 'brrrr'ing sounds, like a happy enderman, which caused you to smile, "Ranboo, my beloved!" You joked which caused a small laugh to escape from him, "It's been so long!"

The two of you began to chat happily as he led you to his home that was buried in the cliffs of the snowy biome. Both of you were so caught up in your conversation that you hardly realized when a gruff and deep voice called the name of your platonic husband.

If he had colour to his face, Ranboo's features would've drained completely of any hue. You both looked over to see the tall pink haired piglin hybrid standing proudly in his cape and crown, with an enchanted netherite axe in his dominant hand.

Well... At least he was given you a chance to speak.

"Why have you brought... Her... Here?" The man wearing the monarch outfit growled lowly, saying 'her' with such hesitation that he made you realize what he wanted to say.

"You wanted to say 'Why have you brought the government here,' didn't you?" A hiss escaped past your lips before you could even stop it. Even Ranboo turned to you with a petrified expression, "I'll have you know, I am a person."

"Ranboo! This is betrayal!" Techno snarled, almost completely ignoring your words as he reinstated his grip on his weapon.

The monochrome coloured man stuttered for words for a moment before clearing his throat, "She isn't a part of the government anymore. She has been working with Captain Puffy to take down the Eggpire and I invited her out here to relax." He stated calmly, trying to diffuse the situation before it turned into something that could put you in danger.

Glancing over at him in a bit of confusion, you had to stop yourself from tilting your head. You... were part of Snowchester? Both of you were! Did Techno not.. Know about the fact that you both were (platonically) married to each other and Tubbo?

After a moment, you gave a sigh and held up your hands before reaching into the duffel bag you had brought with you. This action, albeit harmless in your eyes, seemed to threaten Techno greatly as he visibly shifted into a fighting stance. You pulled out a netherite ingot and held it out, raising your eye brow. "Here, have a piece offering from me- Oh wait. I'm not me. I'm just a government in your eyes." You huffed and tossed the ingot lazily into the snow a few feet in front of you before dragging the tall male towards his own house, grumbling angrily the entire way there.

The rest of the night turned out decent after Ranboo explained his reasoning behind being a practical double agent, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You just wanted to relax for God's sake.

Once you had gone to sleep in his spare room, that's when Ranboo's smile fell and he began pacing around in his basement area, murmuring to himself in enderman while his particles buzzed around him. While they weren't actually speaking, Ranboo's mind thought they were.

"I can't keep her safe."

"̵T̵e̷c̸h̷n̵o̸ ̷w̴i̴l̴l̶ ̴v̷i̸s̷i̷t̷ ̸S̴n̴o̶w̸c̵h̷e̸s̷t̸e̷r̴ ̸a̵n̶d̴ ̶s̴e̷e̵ ̸h̶e̶r̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴r̶e̸.̸.̷"̶ (”Techno will visit Snowchester and see her there”) ̸ ̷"̴H̴e̸'̴l̴l̶ ̴h̸u̶r̸t̸ ̵h̵e̴r̵.̵"̷ (”He’ll hurt her”) ̶ ̸"̴K̶e̸e̶p̷ ̶h̵e̶r̵ ̴s̸a̸f̶e̵.̷"̸ (”Keep her safe”)

"Me and Tubbo can keep her safe. She can be safe with us. We can protect her."

"̷͚̼̎ͅB̵̝͂̓ṙ̴͍î̵̧͕͖̈͝n̸̟̓̈́g̸̤̟͑̿ ̴̯̟̈́̇̓h̷͚̾ͅę̸̣̀̉̋ŗ̶̪̗̈́ ̸͖̎͠ȟ̴̙͎ô̵̫͈̠̌͠m̷̧̈́̒ẻ̸͔̈́.̵̞̥̞̀̓"̵̺̺̗͗͐  (”Bring her home.”)

His purple particles began to buzz more and more at the thought of you being safe in their protection... At least that what he thought...

#ranboo #ranboo x reader #ranboo x female reader #ranboolive #mcyt #mcyt x reader #ranboo mcyt #yandere x reader #yandere ranboo #ranboo dsmp #dsmp #dsmp ranboo #dream smp #dream smp x reader #ranboo dream smp

[dodo-begone]

💐 YOU GET ME,,, WAIT WAIT - stockholm syndrome + being kept from the yandere would be PERFECT for the yandere kids thing from Shepard’s holy SHIT

like after all four of them take you, maybe it’s Techno or Captain Puffy or anyone else who rescues you after a few weeks, but by that time you’re so accustomed to being doted on 24/7 that the idea of being without them absolutely terrifies you ,,, many thoughts head full

ooooh omg that’s such a good concept right there!

Like Techno or Puffy finally find you after months of searching for you and there you are! You’re so lucky to be unscathed! Oh poor baby! Time to come home :)

You’re just fighting the entire way to their house and even fighting to leave. And your rescuer is just like tf?? Why are you doing this? They just chalk it up to you being scared and traumatized about what they did to you. So it’s obvious that you’d try to run away from anybody else who was bringing you to a house. 

But you just wanted your boys back. They must’ve been so worried about you! Ranboo really needs you to comfort him about his memory issues. Tubbo needs you to help care for the others. Tommy needs you to comfort him. Actually they all need comfort, and badly at that! And they were at home, safe and sound. Why the fuck were they kidnapped from their home?? God they have to get home, and fast. 

#ask #💐 anon #tw: yandere #c: tubbo #c: ranboo #c: purpled #c: tommy #tw: kidnapping