#yandere lies of p

[snailsgoingdowntown]

 Intrigued With You

I ii iii iiii

Yandere! Pinocchio x Fem! Mechanic! Reader

Warnings: Slight mental breakdown (?), mention death of a minor character, vomit, implied depression, paranoia, mentioned violence and death, unhealthy coping methods, blood, I THINK implied toxic familial relationship(s), just to be safe.

This blog contains dark content.

Disclaimer: contents/lore may differ from the game.

Minors/blank/blogs that don’t reblog/interact with fics and fanart dni.

Idk the word count cuz I forgot to check lmao.

Overall story summary: Your uncle’s puppet takes a bit too much of an interest in you: in which your body finally gave out in this chapter.

==

It does not speak. Nor does it move, staying as still as a doll would. But it is not a doll, it is a puppet that was worked on for a great while. And it was that very puppet that was staring at you with glassy blue eyes. It reminds you of a curious cat, round features narrowing into confusion.

The puppet then slowly moves its head left to right, checking the surroundings. The sight it’s met with is a cluttered room, with puppet parts scattered throughout, and the smell of grease thick. Could it even smell? Feel the plushness of the chair it was currently resting in, or how ticklish the hair must be at the nape of its neck? Or was it as bleak as every other puppet before a personality was programmed into it, unless it was faithed to be scrapped?

Creak

The gears are turning too harsh inside it. Loud enough to hear, yet the body does not look like it’s on the verge of overheating. Everything comes to a halt once it turns its head forward, gaze landing on you once more.

Sweat forms and slides down your temple. Hot, cold, hot, cold – you feel both at once, a cool breeze biting at your exposed skin. Your clothes feel too hot, the scent of musk strong underneath your nose. Gulping down a scream, your wobbly legs manage to keep up. You resist the urge to fall to the floor like a disregarded ragdoll.

Your purpose is not done yet.

One step, another, and it takes you an odd number to get back to the table. Your hands grasp the edge of it, your legs weak and knees on the verge of knocking against each other. Breathe. Just. Breathe.

“Ah… It is a… it is a pleasure to met you. Can you understand me? Nod your head or use your voice, it doesn’t matter.” You sound steadier than you feel. Several seconds pass before the puppet nods its head, slowly and uncertain. You try to think of it as a newborn – something that barely came to ‘life’ – and like all the puppets, this one will be clumsy and will need a hand to hold before everything becomes natural to it.

But it won’t be your hand.

“Right. That’s good, excellent even.” You’re clapping lightly by reflex. Autopilot is taking over. “Now, I have a few things I need to… hm, what’s the word… test you on. However!”

Slowly, like a scared animal, you back away, turning your back towards it and making way towards the door. You look over your shoulder, neither a frown nor smile on your face. It feels like a line. Turning the doorknob, you talk again.

“I left the materials outside. Truthfully, I did not think you would come on. It wasn’t the first time I put in the ‘heart,’ and it was because of that I thought you would remain well, off. Do you mind waiting here? Just for a bit.”

You give it the illusion of choice. Regardless, you would still leave. But you would rather walk out calmly than run out like a mad man. The puppet doesn’t make any attempt to get up. Looks up at the ceiling before down at you again, the eyes far too innocent, yet blank. How could the two exist within it?

A sour-bitter taste starts to form in your mouth. Your glands feel tight. Slick.

The puppet nods its head after observing you for a bit. Your heart leaps with joy, but bursts with fright the moment you close the door with a “I’ll be right back.”

There is a tree several feet in front of your uncle’s personal workshop. Years ago, when you first joined hands with him, you would often sit underneath it. Hugged your parents by it. Read books using the trunk as a backrest. Kissed Howard underneath it.

Carve your names with a heart. And it is this same tree where you place a hand on the trunk to support yourself. The taste of bile was always bitter. And it was always slimy and uncomfortable whenever it builds up.

“Ugh”

Up goes your lunch, wheezing with every convulsion. Nails digging into the tree bark, the wood digs into your flesh, underneath the nails. You’re going to have splinters. More comes up and you’re barely breathing by the time your body decides it was enough.

“Fuck…,” heaving, you wipe your mouth with your sleeve. You should change, you think, supporting yourself with your free hand still on the tree. Everything feels heavy, and everything feels dizzy. You fucked up big time. Too big to giggle and say, ‘sorry uncle,’ and get away with it. You could have ruined the puppet.

The puppet could have also ruined you. In short, you fucked up. You should have kept your hands to yourself. Frustration at bay. Mind at ‘ease,’ no matter how forced it was. Fake it until you make it. Maybe you weren’t capable of that.

“Haah… fuck, why did I do that?” lifting your head, you look ahead – a tight street where it was annoying to get in. Twists and turns, hidden corners; a good place to hide something precious. But a horrible spot to run from. Especially when everything looked the same, from the buildings to even the stupid posters, both encouraging and protesting against the puppets.

Krat was starting to become a city of repetition. Dull.

Sluggishly, you look over your shoulder, to where the shop was behind you. The door was still closed. The puppet was probably – hopefully – inside. On that stupid red plush chair, surrounded by disregarded parts and paperwork that needed to be filled out. You wonder if it could read.

What would happen if you just… ran?

Your uncle would find you, certainly. Maybe he would kill you. Or send you back to your parents, disappointment in their eyes once they find out about your sudden appearance. Or maybe Lorenzini Venigni – a man you only met but once – would put you in debt one way or another?

He was your uncle’s friend, after all.

Maybe the puppet would go to find you and rip you apart. The puppet this, the puppet that, it’s now sitting ‘awake’ and ‘alive,’ in the workshop. You were with it alone. No-one would come running in this part of town.

You suddenly feel sick again.

--

“Mm, I’m sorry it took me so long.” You feel like a professor, with children’s books bundled up in your arms as you let the door shut closed. Two more bags hung by their handles on your arm. Sweaty and slightly out of breath, there’s strands of hair sticking to your face. Your ponytail was a mess, and you could smell the sweat.

Your eyes were dropping, and body felt heavy. It took effort to even stand.

The sun was barely setting, and your uncle still wasn’t back. You also took an hour running around town to buy these last minute ‘supplies.’

It jolts to life, lifting its head, tilting it next once it notices your exhausted state and scrambled appearance. Its gaze then lands on the items you’re carrying, like it didn’t notice them before. It probably didn’t. It probably thought you had left for good. And you wish you did.

“I just… mm, I just wanted to see if you could,” you draw out, placing everything on the table with a ‘plop.’ “If you could read. And maybe write. Of course, if you don’t want to, then by no means do you need to do these… things.”

Selecting a book at random, you flip through the thick pages and large word formats. It had pictures to go alongside it, showing what was taking place in the text. Does this count as making fun of it? Now that you think about it, was the puppet even programed to read…?

Hell, could it even write?

Heat creeps up your neck like ants the closer you get to the puppet. It shuffles in place, adjusting itself. Your fingers twitch when you hand the book over… only to look at its left arm. Or rather, where the left arm should be. There was nothing there. You look behind you to see the arm on the table.

Oh. Right. You forgot about that.

Everything felt heavy and unsteady.

“…” you could offer to read the book to it. But if you do, then won’t it look like you’re trying to bond with it? It could use the arm it has, surely, right? But what if it keeps dropping the book? Oh, and the writing, you’re not sure which hand –

“Okay, how about this? Let me push the table – can you hold this for a bit? – closer to you.” scuff marks are left behind as the table squeaks against the floor. The puppet merely looks on, almost as though it could tell you didn’t want its help. You should consider that a good thing. But it makes everything feel worse.

Your arms are strained but the table is close enough to where the puppet can lean on it without trouble. “Thank you,” you take the book from its grasp gently, “and, here we go. I’m going to place this here…”

You lay the book on the table. With your permission (a nod when it looks at you) the puppet traces the cover. Whether it could feel the texture, or read the words, something caught its attention. It blinks just like a human before looking at you again.

Insects crawl up your skin, eating away at your flesh. A cold sweat spreads throughout your body, hairs standing on edge. The bitterness is forming on your tongue again, foot tapping harshly and rapidly. It’s louder than your heartbeat, drumming in your ear as your blood rushes through every tunnel within.

Despite everything, you were starting to feel… drained past the point of simple tiredness.

“Are you able to read… Hm, do you know what ‘reading’ means?” The foot tapping increases the longer you speak to it. Stay near it. It nods its head, and you feel a tiny bit of relief. Because it means you don’t have to baby it completely. Hopefully not at all.

Your uncle could do all he wants.

… you said you were not going to hold its hand, but isn’t that what you’re doing? Your brain is starting to turn into mush. Maybe just once wouldn’t hurt. Right?

“Okay, good. Can you read this, please?”

Summer’s Fair, was the title of the book. It was a small book, but the pages were thick. A sun, wildflowers with a pretty woman in yellow were engraved on the cover. Leatherback, you think. Secondhand, used but greatly cared for and perhaps even loved by the pervious owner.

You almost feel bad for putting it to use like this. For this.

The puppet takes its time inspecting it. Gently yet clumsily, it goes through the pages, trying its best not to rip the pages. With a boyish and innocent appearance, you could almost find it cute. But you don’t, you can’t, and you won’t. Because it is a puppet, and puppets unnerve you.

But humans do too, these days. Shaking your head, you wait until it is done with its little field trip. It flips to the first page, and its attention is fully on the words written on it. Slowly, you walk away, and bring a stool over to sit near the table. Near, but not at. Because if you sat at the table, it would imply you were willing to do more than this.

The only thing stopping you from turning it off was the puppet itself. Ignoring the fact it resembled a young man, it was a puppet. Metal like material, or steel, or whatever it was made from. A human man would be stronger than you. But a full-sized puppet? You had even less of a chance of getting away if it decided it didn’t like what you were doing.

It could easily snap your neck if you even try to sneak behind it. And the arms – they look like they’re meant for combat. Maybe the puppet knows how to fight. It’s probably been programed into it. A nice little detail you were kept in the dark about if it was proven to be true.

What was the purpose of this puppet? Calling it ‘son,’ only to obsess over it. Creating it into an image you could not comprehend. A mockery of the dead. A mockery of the puppet itself.

His grief was understandable. You would feel the same if your child was taken away from you just like that. A child you didn’t spend time with yet loved with all your heart –

But this puppet was not his son. It would never be. To replace a human, a loved one was…

“… may I see what page you’re on?” Polite, and not as stiff as you thought you would sound. It slides the book over to you. It’s near the edge and after taking a glance, you push it back. It starts reading again, and you’re met with nothing but harsh silence. The ticking of the clock, the flipping of the pages, your heartbeat, the gears inside of it moving –

It’s all white noise. Like a buzzing fly, settling into your head. Everything feels fuzzy, but prickly too, poking at you. It stings. Teeth shattering pain that courses through your body. It’s deep inside, unable to soothe the pain. You rub your head with your fingers.

It does little to help. When you look at the puppet again, you notice that it is looking at you from the corner of its eye – not at the book. When its gaze meets yours, it quickly goes back to reading. Heart drops, head aches too much, harder to think. Now that you finally had some time to ‘rest,’ you realize how fatigued your body was.

You needed some fresh air.

Before the room fully turns black, the dots decorating your vision get larger. When was the last time you had a sip of water today? Or proper sleep? Not those thirty-minute naps you would take three times a day.

Your eyes were probably dark, and face unhealthy. Nap. Yes, you should take a nap.

But the puppet…

The puppet…

The…

…puppet…

… there’s a dull pain pounding at your head.

… did something fall?

… there’s a shuffling of clothes.

…. Your body feels a little less heavy now.

… but the surface against your head was still firm, more than human skin.

… when you finally manage to open your eyes, you’re met with the hazy sight of a boyish face. Pretty eyes that are a color they shouldn’t be. Too blue. The hair was too fluffy, but the freckles looked familiar. Just like the portrait hanging in your uncle’s house.

…. And it looked less frustrated, less lonely like that little boy waiting for his father to return home. You wish you could have met that little boy. That little boy he’s so overwhelmed by feelings of regret and grief drowning him in the dark depts of the ocean.

… Maybe if you met that little boy then…

No. Nothing would have changed. Because you did not have a purpose then. You did not know Krat until a year later, did not know how puppets worked or how the parts looked. You did not know who was who, and…

--

When he returned with Howard, there was blood on the floor.

There was blood on the floor, and your body was being cradled in the single arm of his masterpiece.

==

hate to be that person, but please reblog fanfiction and fanart in general. While i am always greateful that people comment and reblog my own stuff, it is a bit disheartening to see blogs who follow/interact who have only one or two posts that were dated from last year, or not having any reblogs or content from fandoms, especially the ones i am in interact. It is not a just 'me' problem. I have seen many bring this up too, and even had a few mutual deactivate because of it, and honestly, it is stuff like that that makes me want to not contuine running this account. But with all of the recent comments and even reblogs, it rekindled my inspriation.

However, i am not saying to do that on every fic. Just some, at the very least and often enough, if that makes sense.

But from here on out, if you ask to be tag (and don't have anything on your blog that relates to what i said above), or spam like my posts without even reblogging one or just commenting, then there is a higher chance of being blocked. leave a comment, reblog, interact with your favorite creators, not just me. It helps a lot.

I am extremely grateful and happy for the people who do comment and reblog (Insert heart, on laptop)

Tag list: @ijustreblogstuff-i-like @chiofany @quzbea @cute-angi @nealcaffrey2129 @connorsoddsock @rositabluemoon @shiro-from-cafeberry @sunnyhascome

#lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #yandere lies of p #yandere pinocchio x reader #pinocchio x reader

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

Here is: capitolo uno

Capitolo due

Capitolo tre

Capitolo quattro

Capitolo cinque

Capitolo sei

Capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occurr in time

The rain poured and poured upon the workshop's roof. It seemd to have been doing so for the past week but, judging from the humming evidently resounding from the room deep within the building, the only resident there did not seem to care too much.

The floors creaked in the room, still old and dusty - especially compared to the rest of the rooms in the house - but she was sure this was a simple and temporary oversight of her uncle. The rain may pour with a few thunder growling outside but she had long not been a little and frightened child anymore. Even so, the humming was her way of keeping herself company.

Even at the attempt of putting the old, amateur tools neatly away, they still fell to the ground and she had to keep getting them back up. That was admittedly vexing. Still, the song in her head and the flickering of the lamp above were enough.

Finally, the arm would move a bit more freely. She had long learned that her hands would get dirtied but to have this amount of oil taint her skin for such a meek but precious doll was still surprising. She wouldn't tell Uncle that though. Yet, with a deep breath, she took the small paintbrush back into her palm.

"...I know you..." The humming turned into soft singing as she cocked her head for a better angle. "...I walked with you, once upon a dream..." Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, she tilted the doll further to the light. A noise of confusion errupted before she got an idea.

"I know you, that glint in your," She halted for a second to catch her thoughts as the blonde locks didn't exactly seem to stick on her head. She quickly opened the drawer next to her, yelped at the loud creak, before fishing out a needle. The singing went from a piano to a forte. "Eyes is so familiar, a gleam..."

Finally, the wig would stay tight. She hoped.

For safety's sake, she pulled on one lock and found herself glad that it stayed put. "And I know it's true, that visions are seldom all they seem...but if I know you..." Soon, her hands went to the hems of the dress and checked the fabric. It wasn't as blue as it used to be and she wondered if she should make an exact copy but just in pink. That is sure to impress.

"...I know what you'll do..."

Eyebrows scrunched up in thought. Would he even recognize it's the same doll then? Surely, an skilled puppet maker like Uncle certainly would...but his memory at this old age? She didn't know.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she let it be. That gives it character - and even if it does not, the memory of her percious ol' doll still delights her to this day, even as an adult. With a swing, she got up from the plush stool and danced with the toy as she did as a kid. It is the quality that will certainly impress.

"...You'll love me at once, the way you did once...upon a dream~!"

Soon, the thunder growled loueder and it was easy to reckon another resident entered the workshop at this late hour. Heavy footsteps followed with quiet grunts of how the entire entrance was now wet. The doll was quickly tucked and hidden inside the drawer and lighter, faster footsteps sped down the stairs. The man tunred to the source of ecxitement as he took off his drenched hat.

"Welcome back, Uncle Geppetto."

He greeted you in return. "Thank you. You're up and about this late." The gentleman hung his hat on the rack before removing each layer of wet clothes off with with frustration. The rain - no, storm - has been dragging him down the past week.

Cleaning his monocle dry, he put it back on to get a good look at you. Hands patted down the stained and old striped pants of his that he borrowed you from younger times. It was when you so abruptly arrived and was meant to serve as a sort of substitute - but you both agreed it was time to treat the old thing as a worker's outfit, held up by the old straps for as long as they still could and not grieving once the entire set is done and dusted. Only a few more uses left, before it will be thrown out entirely. Or cut up and used as a rag. Or as some substitute clothing for a puppet your size.

Finding a suitable shirt wasn't hard. All that was needed was one of yours that was allowed to get dirty, stained and ripped. Your mother was first hesitant to send you any of your good clothes if it meant being anywhere near the workshop. Yet she was still eager to use the opportunity to finally get rid of your old clohtes she wasn't too keen on. The shoes belonged to your father, a pair she found lying around and didn't have the heart to throw those ones away.

Yet, it was your hands neatly hidden behind your back and your honest smile that caught Geppetto's brown eyes.

"I take it you have been a good girl while I was gone?" Just as you were about to answer with an high 'Of course, Uncle.', the man quickly continued. "Good girls go to bed at this hour."

You sigh. "Oh, Uncle," Your shoulders fell, "I understand but I am no child anymore." "Child or not, nothing good comes from being up at this unholy hour. You don't have to wait for me to come home, dear. You know I have the key and go and return whenever the puppets call me." He laughed but was clearly shivering from the cold. Even his gray, thick beard and mustache were dripping with cold raindrops.

"Now, come on. Get tidy and sleep. Nothing can be done this late, let's continue tomorrow." Geppetto sniffed, scratching his nose and walked towards the living room. Through the small hallway, he passed a few naked puppet forms, put aside for a project he had initially forgotten. The sight of them makes him sigh.

Yet so were your quick footsteps, following him. "You say that but we haven't done anything the past week. I am already done with fixing up the butlers." You meant to point at the two butler puppets, their coats and paint fresh and done but Geppetto had long passed them and so did you. "They..still malfunction, slightly, but I have done what you asked me to, Uncle."

For a moment he looked back before sighing again and stopping. You manage to stop before bumping into him. "...I will take a look at those tomorrow. I cannot think now, I cannot give you an answer right now, dear. Just wait and do as I say. We can discuss more with fresh minds and fresher bodies."

Without hesitation you closed your mouth shut and nodded. You could tell he was not in the mood to discuss your apprenticeship and your impatience. He took your obedience with a smile and a nod. "Good night, then, (Name). And don't have me catch you out of your bed at this time again. You'll see that this behaviour will only bring you consequences."

With a single pat on you shoulder which left it wet, Geppetto left to his bedroom without another word. You hid your disappointment as you went to your own before reminding yourself to tidy up, just as he asked you to. He may be treating you like a child but you supposed that does not make his words any less wise. You did not wish to upset him even more now, anyway.

As you followed your uncle's request, your humming resumed though quieter. You found your routine to be over quite quickly due to the exhaustion you evidently but still, frustratingly, felt. Good thing Uncle was not there to witness it.

Still, with a resolute peek, you looked over the doll you hid which mended your disappointment even a little bit - before heading off to bed.

Even as your humming grew quieter, the tones still resounded in the dark room below. The third resident did hear, unlike your uncle.

ok, I NEEDED to write this, this has been on my mind an entire week. i have...so much brainrot and ideas.

female reader, niece of geppetto and apprentice when krat was stil o-kay

but things kinda go???? bad??? haywire???

geppetto going insane and weird haha

reader going from naive to AAAAAAA

kinda??? weird relationship with geppetto???

angst

angst from the past

i kinda wanna have the reader and pinocchio to also have a dubious relationship??? Like, its not gonna be fluffy wholesome

yandere~ mute~ creepy~ puppet~ literally not saying a word, no pov from his side just - actions. yandere actions.

not sure how to intertwine this with the story. im not too caught up with it (unlike pino's eyes) but i really dont know if i should even include gemini or sophia. kinda like??? au?

youre stuck with the puppet

also not sure if there is like- sexism and shit in there. its like the victorian era but an FANTASY victorian era

ppl gonna be mean t you

Lies of P Pinocchio: *exists*

me:

#lies of p #yandere lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p x reader #yandere pinocchio x reader #pinoccio #fem!reader #ticking springs

[emlan]

Geppetto ended up using some rather dubious ingredients when putting together his son, so he gets like this now and then. Fortunately it's safe to just ignore him when it happens (probably)

#lies of p #p lies of p #sir carlo lies of p #Real Boy Carlo #nonsense au #dadcon #dadson #C/P #C/G #lop #yandere #choking #brocon

[kloudinthesky]

Valentines Flowers 💐

Cove from Our Life: white poppies

Alexei from Infinite Blue: yellow coreopsis, freesia, and daisies

P from Lies of P: blue camellias and forget-me-nots

Lamb from Cult of the Lamb: red camellias

Basil from Omori: yellow sunflowers

Eddie from Yandere AI Girlfriend Simulator: pink sakuras

Charlie from Hazbin Hotel: red roses

#our life #our life beginnings & always #our life cove #infinite blue #infinite blue alexei #lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb lambert #Omori #omori basil #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #yandere ai girlfriend #yandere ai girlfriend eddie

[ikarasu]

🍫White Chocolate🍫

Yandere Carlo/P x Reader

Warning: spoilers, yandere behavior, broken bones, and death

P/Carlo’s Perspective: 🍫Dark Chocolate🍫

Final Part: 🥀Tummy Ache🥀

Word Count: 1715

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

At a young age, Carlo and I knew that we were to marry. My parents were successful vehicle inventors who were very interested in Geppetto’s works. Geppetto wanted his son to marry the perfect spouse. So our parents took an opportunity and formed an arranged marriage. I knew that Carlo hated me, because of the arrangement. Feeling that now he has no chance of experiencing real love. I, on the other hand, fell in love at first sight. Everything that Carlo did felt so honest and pure. I watched Carlo grow up into a fine young man, but our relationship never improved. He would always avoid me at any chance given. Yet I still loved him despite his bitter nature towards me. Loving Carlo was like savoring dark chocolate. It’s so pure and rich but leaves nothing but a bitter aftertaste.

As the plague worsened my family had us move away from Krat. Yet my parents still caught the disease and eventually passed away six months after contracting it. I returned to Krat in hopes of finding Geppetto and Carlo. Only to return to the beginning of the puppet frenzy. I found Geppetto and was told of Carlo’s passing before he rushed me to take refuge at The Krat Hotel with a few other survivors.

I don’t know how long it has been since I’ve taken refuge here. But I’ve grown to enjoy the company of others. Usually, I help around with Polendina or chat with Sophia and Eugénie. I have not heard news from Geppetto recently, and I can’t help but worry. Leading me to think about Carlo and how I wasn’t there for his final moments. It hurts to think that I never got to say bye and tell him the truth about my feelings.

The loud creaking of the front entrance doors opening pulls me out of my thoughts. Like a bitter pill, I swallow up my feelings and head downstairs to greet whoever had just entered. As I head down the stairs I hear Sophia chatting. ‘It must be another survivor…’

“Sophia, who’s the newcomer-“

I stop as I look up at the face of the newcomer. Suddenly I feel sick to the stomach and I take a step back.

“I-it can’t be….”

There stands a confused familiar face. His unfamiliar blue eyes are glassy and dull, but his freckles are a constellation of stars I have memorized by heart.

“Oh, (name), I want you to meet P” Sophia says as she looks over at me with concern.

P raises his hand slowly as he stares at me. He almost touches my hand but I run. I headed to my room as fast as I could. My breath is erratic, my heart is pounding, and my mind is spinning. I feel like the world is collapsing on me and I fall to my knees and cry alone in my room.

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~Time Skip~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

*knock knock*

I refuse to move from my bed after the events from earlier today. The confusion and feeling of being lied to is conflicted inside me.

“(Name)… it’s me, Geppetto. May I come in?”

He sighs as he hears no response from me.

“I’m assuming you met my latest creation…..”

The door whips open revealing my angered expression.

“Is that what he is, Geppetto? Just another toy to you?! Some sick way to make up for your shortcomings as a father figure to Carlo?!”

My fists are trembling and the hot tears spill from my cheeks. Geppetto holds one of my fists gently before making me look at his face.

“Let me explain everything to you… there’s more to it…”

We sit in my room as Geppetto explains his whole plan to revive Carlo. I hesitate at his words, everything about it seems inhumane. Yet he tries to reassure me with promises of me getting my chance to love Carlo again.

“I can’t Geppetto… none of this sounds right. I miss Carlo as well, deeply, but this is too much for me.”

I guide him out of my room to let me process everything that has been said.

The next few days I try to go through my day as per usual. Trying to ignore those same blue glassy eyes following my form as I pass by. Despite their beautiful color, they’re too fake and doll-like for me to appreciate.

I go to the library to browse some books to read. On the top shelf, I notice one of my favorite books sitting on it. I try to reach for it as best as I can. My fingers barely graze the spine of the book before suddenly I feel a cold form pressing against my back. A larger hand easily grabs the book I was reaching for. Turning around slowly I refuse to meet his eyes. I quickly take the book and give him a quiet thank you before running off. If I had taken the time to look I would’ve noticed the way his eyes showed something new, longing.

I try to avoid him whenever he is in the hotel. Until one day I was feeling more somber than usual. Today would’ve been Carlo’s birthday. Sitting alone at the piano I play an old tune, one that I thought Carlo would’ve enjoyed if he and I got along. The tears drip from my face as I continue to play. Quietly the front doors of the hotel open and P walks in. P’s footsteps go unnoticed by me as I drown myself in my sorrows. He feels something deep down in his heart pulling him towards me. The feelings ran deep and made the ergo in his veins flow more. He felt like he had no control over these feelings. Remembering Geppetto’s words in his office after defeating the watchman at the city hall.

“(Name) and Carlo were made for each other. Treat them well, even if they’re a bit rough around the edges at the moment. They’ll come around sooner or later”

The song comes to an end and the room is now only filled with the sounds of my quiet sobs. I gasp as I feel a hand touch my shoulder. P stands there and looks at me with concern.

“Go away… You’re the last ‘thing’ I want to see at the moment” I say resentfully.

Instead of listening to me, P pulls me into a hug. I freeze and then I let myself melt. Carlo would’ve never hugged me so comfortably. The tears spill more and for once I look back at those blue eyes. He stares at me so lovingly and kindly. Maybe this is okay…maybe I can love again…

As P progressed on his journey our relationship bloomed. He was patient when I was stubborn and he was loving when I needed it. Loving P was like milk chocolate. The perfect balance of sweetness with no bitter aftertaste. He was perfect and I gave him all of my heart.

P came into the hotel and came to my room. One look at his face and I knew what he was thinking. We lay together one last time before he had to go off and finish off Simon. Our tears and hearts are shared one last time.

“I promise to come back… I won’t leave you again, (name)”

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~Time Skip~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

Screams are all I can hear ringing through the hotel. I hide in my room crying as I fear for my life. They’re all gone. Eugénie, Venigni, Antonia, Polendina, Pulcinella… they’re all gone. I hear footsteps approaching my room and I feel sick to my stomach. I pray for them to turn away and move on. It’s silent for a few moments before I hear the handle of the door turn. I hid in my wardrobe before the door could be opened. Holding my breath as I stare through the crack of my wardrobe. The room is empty and everything is silent. I let out my breath before suddenly brown eyes appeared in front of the crack. A scream is ripped out of my throat as I’m yanked out of the wardrobe.

“My love~ I promised you I would come back”

I tried to push at his form but his body wouldn’t budge an inch. Staring at familiar brown eyes that are now filled with bloodlust. Familiar constellations of freckles are nowhere to be found. Only splatters of blood and oil speckle his face.

“Let me go! You monster!” I scream as I continue to thrash in his iron-like hold.

“Now, now, that’s not very nice of you love~” he says in a sugary tone

I continue to thrash as tears fall from my eyes. Praying to any gods that all of this is just some nightmare. Suddenly he pulls me by the hair to force me to look at him. His tone taking a dangerous turn.

“Father promised me that we were made for each other. So start acting like it, love.”

I tremble in his hold submissively. He smiles and releases my hair before leaning closer to my face.

“That’s a good spouse~”

Before he could lean any closer I grabbed the vase behind him and smashed it on his head. He staggers and I make a run for it. Skipping over steps as I make a dash for the exit. I manage to run out the doors into the rainy entrance before I’m tackled down. Grabbing onto my leg he gives me a dangerous look. A sickening crack and a scream were all that could be heard. I cry as the pain shoots up my leg.

“See? That’s what happens when you’re not a good spouse. I have to clip your wings” his tone has returned to that sickening sweet voice.

He pulls out a ring and looks at me. I try to crawl away but he pulls me back cradling me. I cry as he slips on the ring and pulls me into a possessive kiss.

“That’s right, love! Cry! It’s a joyous moment for both of us. Now we can be together forever just as we were meant to be”

This ‘love’ is like white chocolate. Its overly sweet taste is there to cover up the fact it isn’t chocolate. Only this time it’s all that you have left.

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

Notes: I will edit this eventually rippppp

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #p #lies of p pinocchio x reader #pinocchio x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #p x reader #lies of p fanfic #gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic #lies of p carlo x reader #yandere carlo #lies of p carlo

[millidank]

POV: You're the last survivor in Hotel Krat, and "Carlo" decided to spare you and keep you c: maybe...

He finds you amusing, though. So, uh, keep doing whatever you're doing if you wanna live, lol. Maybe....

After the Real Boy ending ✨️

#lies of p #lies of p fanart #lies of p carlo #doodle #lies of p spoiler #yandere carlo #maybe probably yandere idk #anyways he likes you c: #good job living guys

[oldworldghost]

Had an angsty thought about P falling in love with reader whose staying in the hotel and using that as a sort of motivation to continue to try and become human because lord above he wants nothing more than to actually feel for them, like really feel for them, and he's fairly sure that [for reasons he doesn't quite understand] that the "love" is mutual. But also reader has such unstable attachment issues that don't really manifest in a noticeable/harmful way until P actually confesses his feeling for them and reader just fucking. breaks his newly formed heart because holy shit they cannot do that. Readers so convinced they can't love him in a way that's good, or at all really, and P is so so confused and upset because reader has been acting like what he thought someone in love would act like. And P still feels such a strong disconnect between himself and humans still because even if he is human now he obviously still doesn't understand anything about them and-

#SORRY FOR RAMBLING LMAO #I just have so many thoughts about this #this is also probably incomprehensible I am so sorry </3 #but like #Do You Understand Me #also potential yandere p question mark #lies of p #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader

[muntadhir]

Why didn't you guys tell me how fun roleplaying as Venigni is. Why didn't you. /s

For real though, he and P are playing a game and talking about sexy things and it's both funny and cute. Will they kiss???? I dunno but I think that'd be neat.

Someday I will write a fic about Lorenzini Venigni. I have zero ideas, but I am writing it down. I am taking notes. I am a lover of the man Lorenzini Venigni.

#i've had a venigni rp account for ages but i've just been shitposting bc i worried his voice might be kind of hard to pick up #i feel like i've so far gotten everyone's voice down okay for rp #i feel like giangio and geppetto are so far the more difficult ones to write for rp (for me) bc of the scheming/calculating y'know #fic is kind of different #fic is just a sludge of self indulgence while rp is like “i gotta use my brain” #俺の #i lied abt voices #i'm actually not super sure on carlo but i think he kind of depends on who he's played against/the context of the thread #whether or not he's yandere real boy y'know #“do you roleplay as everyone from 2023's hit lies of p” yes #“do you ship everything in 2023's hit lies of p” yes no one is safe #adding onto this actually but venigni is really interesting to me for rp so far bc it's like #he's the one character who is honest and says what's on his mind #so exploring his introspection is going to be fun ESPECIALLY FOR ANGST YEEHAW

[rottinglittleprincess]

if you can’t live without me then why aren’t you dead yet?

#toxic #i love you #live with yourself #manipulation #lies of p #dark core #obslove #i hate liars #i miss my bf #obsessive love #actually obsessive #obsessive bf #lovesick #angel core #i love him #i just want to sleep #toxic love #toxicity #love haunts #yandere

[allurilove]

Yandere Husband x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: possessive behavior, manipulation, pregnancy/ baby trapping, cunnilingus, fem reader, p in v sex, dry humping, stalking, he’s a very deceptive man

*Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last post of yan!husband 😭🩵 This is a continuation off of my last post, and he’s only referred to as “your husband.” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. Here is the third part! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your husband is over the moon. He infiltrated your life, and he will make sure you never forget it. His obsession love for you is taken to new heights, a newest edition blessing your family.

You hated being pregnant as much as you hated being lied too. After learning he’s been stalking you, and purposefully feeding you lies about your whole interactions just being “fate,” he finds ways to make you forgive him.

What a fucking creep. Your husband thought as he watched the realtor get too handsy with you. Actually, everyone was trying to put their hands on you. You were carrying his baby, but others would put their hand on your stomach, acting as if it was theirs. He stiffened as the realtor tried to make a lame joke about the master bedroom.

He automatically appeared by your side, removing the realtors hands on your baby bump. He was in a bad mood the whole entire day. When you two go back home, he pulled you to the bedroom. He’s more careful with your body now, and he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He crawled next to you.

His arms wrapped around you possessively, his face digging into your neck, and you hear him whisper sweet things into your skin. He pressed kisses onto your shoulder, his hands wandering around your body before he groped at your chest.

You’ve gained weight, which was natural and just a part of the process. He loved to fondle your thighs, and his hands start to move upwards. Your husband slipped his hand underneath your dress, his hands touching your inner thigh and near your warmth. He was always the big spoon, loving how you feel in his arms.

“Oh dear…” Your husband whispered in delight, his eyes glancing down to see his hardened dick.

Your husband would always be erect around you, his hands revealing your plump ass to him and he gently smacked it. You scoff and push him away. You still haven’t forgotten…. you thought you found a friend, a guy to talk to about your stresses and worries in life. But he was the perpetrator.

“I said I was sorry…” Your husband frowned. “You sure know how to hold a grudge…”

When you shoot him a glare and make it clear you were still upset, he raised his hands in surrender. “Alright… let me make it up to you.”

Your husband pulled your legs apart, and his hands automatically went for your panties.

You remember a time when he first went down on you. You were in a vulnerable position at the time, as you ran and ran from your stalker, however you couldn’t help feel a bit of happiness. This was a confirmation that you weren’t hallucinating, and all of your friends that didn’t believe you, could suck it. But it also meant you weren’t just delusional, and someone was actually following you. Fatigue settled into your body, and you rested on the wall as you try to catch your breath.

Your husband, who was just a friend at the time, conveniently was walking past. He looked worried, and he feigned innocence when he pretended that he didn’t see a man following you. He walked you back home that night, and he got you so comfortable around him- that his fingers were easily slipping inside you. His tongue lapping up any juices that flowed out of you, and he pressed kisses on your folds.

He was a vessel of safety, and at the time you thought you would be fine for awhile. Completely unaware that your stalker was now sleeping in the same bed as you.

Your husband moaned as his mouth latched onto your cunt, his hands now trailing upwards to feel your stomach. His heart fluttered, and his mind was plagued of ways to keep you by his side forever. Spilling his seed inside you was one thing, and marrying you was another… but he needed something more binding.

He was a bit afraid of hurting the baby, and he always tried different ways of pleasing you than using his dick. He pulled down his pants and he lowered his hips, just enough to be rubbing against your wet core. You feel the soft fabric of his boxers touching your clit, and his lips connect with yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

You remember the time when you found out you were pregnant. You were suddenly sick, and your husband was by your side, just mindlessly playing with your tits. He did that often as he read his newspapers, his hand would crawl underneath your shirt, and his excuse was that he just needs something to fondle. That was when you found out he was not who he said he was. That the times he “bumped” into you, was him finding out your schedule, your routine, and months of stalking.

“What are you thinking about, hmm?” Your husband whispered in your ear, one of his hand grabbed onto your ass to help you follow his rhythm. He continues to grind himself onto you, his other hand playing with your hair.

“What will it take for you to forgive me?”

“Will it help if you hit me?” Your husband scoffed as you screamed at him for hours. You cried your heart out, and the person you loved at the time, was the reason for your paranoia. You can still feel his kisses on your neck, the way he pulled your clothes off, and when he bent you over on the dresser, you couldn’t move. His body was smushed right against yours, he humiliated you, made you feel desperate for release, and made your toes curl.

As he fucked you from behind, he forced you to look at yourself in the mirror. The way drool dribbled down your mouth as you let out silent screams, your eyes rolling back as his thrusts were hard, and demanding submission. You despised him, the way he puts his hands on you, and the way he made you cum.

“…You’re crying..?” Your husband was stumped as tears welled up in your eyes and you started to sniffle. “Because of me?”

You’re tired of him trying to make it up to you. If he really wanted too, he would’ve came clean long time ago and go to jail for fucks sake. You feel his eyes zero in on your tears, watching it dribble down to your chin, and out of curiosity he licked them. He kisses your cheeks and he wraps his arms around you again. You feel suffocated having him on top of you, and you wish someone would take pity on you and take you away.

“I’m sorry.”

You’ve heard it countless of times, each meaningless and empty.

Allure: Sorry that this took awhile! I had to redo this a couple of times, and I wasn’t sure what to write really.

#Allureilove yandere writing #YANDERE HUSBAND PART TWO #Allurilove— yandere husband x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere scenarios #male yandere #your yandere husband x you. #yandere husband #smut #smutty smut smut #smut writing #obsessive love #possessive husband #possesive love #fem reader

[whore-ibly-hot]

"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #tw.dark content #x reader #yandere boy #yandere fae #yandere king #oc Puck #oc Oberon #tw.dubcon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Intrigued With You

I ii iii iiii

Yandere! Pinocchio x Fem! Mechanic! Reader

Warnings: Implied toxic familial relationship, unbalanced power dynamics between the reader and Geppetto, very slight mental breakdown, slowly going into a downwards spiral, paranoia, mentioned past violence and stalking. When the full game comes out, this work may be completely different from the actual game. Please tell me if I missed any.

This blog contains/creates/interacts with dark content.

Minors/blank blogs/blogs that don’t reblog any fan art or fan fiction DNI.

Word count:3096k

Over all story summary: Your uncle’s puppet takes a bit too much of an interest in you: in which you fucked up in this chapter.

==

The public’s opinion of you started to go downhill since then.

It’s been a week, and while most of the citizens won’t throw rocks or stalk you, they still stare – glares that are sharper than a knife, cutting deep into your arteries. You could practically feel the blood oozing out, a puddle forming underneath you as you stood on the stage, heart threating to explode any second now. The crowd just stares, and the puppet next to you cheers. How funny. The damn puppet is offering you more support than the intended audience.

Your foot taps against the wood. Your head throbs and you hold back a scream. You’re a monkey in a circus and they’re throwing peanuts at you.

“Hello everyone. I am here today to introduce a new, and improved, Nanny Puppet, upgraded with new codes and everything.” Your smile is strained, some of the people cheering with others sitting in silence. Seems as though some are genuinely interested and perhaps even excited about the new developments.

Glancing at your uncle who rests behind the curtains to the side, he nods his head.  But most of his attention was on the puppet rather than you. “And it even comes with settings you can adjust yourself at home.”

The Nanny cheers again, robotic, and staticky still. So lifeless, its entire being written on a script. But as you look over the crowd on the wooden stage, head light and heart thumping like thunder, you feel the same. From the way you are standing, to the wave of your hands and your words, is all scripted.

A script written by your uncle.

“Now, come,” you gesture to The Nanny, and it listens, turning its back towards the crowd as you stand next to it. There’s buttons and latches, and you undo them all, with a quick ‘sorry,’ uttered into its ‘ear.’ A habit you picked up from the years of working with your uncle.

And with the rise of malfunctions, part of you thinks it’s for the best. Pretend you’re sorry to them, and maybe when everything goes south, they’ll take pity on you. Paranoia doesn’t look good on you, you realize, showing the audience the off switch, the lights in its eyes dimming as it turns off. This wasn’t a new feature.

But the kill switch is.

“As you can see, the power switch is still enabled, even in these new models. So, don’t worry about that, but!” you bring out a control panel from your waistcoat pocket. It’s small enough to fit in your hand, and on the black surface lies a red button, a little glass cap covering it. To prevent any accidental touches. You grip it a little too hard.

“This right here is a kill switch. Now, I’m not going to press it,” your thumb rubs circles over the cap. You can’t find it in you to force another smile, mentally and physically drained from everything. “But the moment you press it, the puppet will immediately shut down… but it won’t turn on again, either.”

There’s some ‘ooo’s’ and ‘awe’s,’ but the silence of the rest is what puts you on edge. They’re most likely the protesters. You wouldn’t be surprised if this stage would set fire any minute now. You shudder at the thought. Another glance at your uncle – he nods, again.

But his eyes are still mostly focused on the puppet. You can’t tell if it is in interest, hope, or disappointment. Just like how you can’t tell if there’s still warmth in his eyes when he looks at you.

“How does it work?”

You blink, off guard. A woman raised her hand, curious eyes drilling into you. You prepared yourself for this, practicing in front of a mirror for hours on end. You got this. You need to. You might fall apart otherwise.

“So, essentially, it – “

“Or, how about you don’t make them at all? The puppets, I mean.” A man speaks up, hat hiding his gaze, but you feel the hatred and frustration radiating off him in waves. You prepared yourself for this too. But reality still sends you reeling back mentally, the thought of rocks being thrown, or stage set on fire. At least he pretends to be respectful, even with his group frowning at you.

Your body trembles the slightest bit.

“Oh – um… I understand where you come from. It’s… it can be difficult to see use in the puppets, but they’re mostly here for when you can’t do something or need extra help…” you can’t tell if you’re lying to him or saying the truth – it’s all part of the script. And truthfully, you agree with him.

You just keep your mouth shut on the matter.

“They’re taking our jobs, you know? Oh wait, you probably don’t – you’re well-off, producing and selling these… things.” The same man shakes his head before pushing others out of his way – he stops just shy of an inch before the stage. “You don’t have to worry about them stealing your job. For now, at least.”

He adjusts his hat, and the contempt in his eyes is so heavy you’re on the verge of drowning. You swallow. You do know, you do, but it’s not like you could do anything. You already tried, you tried, but talking doesn’t work and –

“Alright, alright, I think that’s enough for now.” Your uncle comes out, places a hand on your shoulder. It feels more restricting than comforting. “It’s been a rather long day for everyone, hasn’t it? The sun is going down, and dinner time is drawing near. Same place and time tomorrow, as it was yesterday and today.”

Unlike you, he sounds confident. Gentle, but firm, and yet, you’re starting to grow more wary of him than the protesters. You wish you could hurry and pick a side. Money or no money, everything was starting to seem more futile, meaningless. You want to live under a rock.

Live under a rock and become separated from your job. You tap your foot more aggressively, biting your lip once your back is turned to the crowd. Your hands twitch even with the control in your hands.

He doesn’t leave room for debate, guiding you on the shoulder to walk down the stage and to his little personal workshop. The police – puppets, again – prevent anyone from getting close. You weren’t here yesterday; it was just him. Did he go through the same thing? Is that why he’s so calm, so natural about it?

Or was he always like this? Disconnected from everything that did not concern his work, his dreams? His puppet, his –

“… Uncle,” you fiddle with the control in your hands. “Did anyone accompany you yesterday?” You can’t find it in you to look at him. Can’t even talk properly, no matter how hard you try to accept everything, like you should. It’s expected of you. And maybe it is because of that, that you can’t find yourself willing to do so.

“Mm. Howard did. It was a welcomed surprise.” He chuckles low in his throat, adjusting his hat as you make way home. Guilt immediately starts to boil within, your heart squeezing painfully as your throat closes in on itself. “He’s a fine young man indeed.”

“He is, isn’t? Such a nice young man…” you agree, nodding your head, ignoring the gnawing at your chest. You care about him, dreadfully so, to the point it was horribly painful. Which was why you tried to keep him out of your business.

But he was just so stubborn.

“Hm,” he takes a glance at you; eyes shifting from one side to another. You see it but don’t think much of it. But even so, you can’t ignore the lack of warmth in his gaze. “I heard he’s been visiting you more often now. Are you two perhaps…?”

“No! No, it’s not like that. It won’t ever be like that again.” You laugh, shaking your head. You fidget with the control more. You look down at your hands – scars and light burns decorate them like tattoos. No longer as ‘pretty’ as society would like to describe.

The though brings out a laugh.

“It just won’t work out.”

“How come?” He sounds interested, but not in a caring way – it was in a way that made you feel like a test subject. “You were such a great pair. He would have made an excellent son-in-law for your parents.”

You grit your teeth. “Yeah. He would have. But that’s neither here nor there; it’s in the past. And it will forever remain in the past.” Your face feels hot – anger? Shame? Annoyance and irritation jabbing at every corner of your very being, you try your best to remain stoic about the conversation. Even if you subconsciously know he’s taking a jab at you.

Even though he has no reason to.

You were sure of it now – all of the warmth that was inside your uncle was slowly becoming cold. Was he always this type of man? Cold? Disconnected from everything? But surely, there was still some left for you, right?

A faint chuckle. “I apologize – I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. I wasn’t aware that it was still a touchy subject.” His fingers dig into your shoulder before his grip loosens. He pats it twice before fully letting you go, turning his head to smile at you.

You think it was meant to be gentle. “It’s fine. It was my fault for… assuming you had other intentions by bringing it up.” It’s a lie. It wasn’t fine, and you both know that. But it should be okay, because he’s a man you consider to be your uncle, and of course uncle Geppetto always wants what’s best for you. It would crush you if he didn’t.

“Mm, that’s the spirit. Don’t let anything drag you down.” You’re at his personal workshop now, the wind picking up. It’s getting colder. The leaves are starting to fall more and more, flowers wilting as the days go by. Just like you.

“Now then, I hope you take great care of him. I have other business to attend to, but I wanted to make sure you made it back safe and sound.” Your uncle gives you exactly two pats on the back. Adjusting his glasses, he turns to look at you, smiling.

Smiling, smiling, smiling – it’s all he does. It’s what unnerves you the most. It’s what the citizens hate about him. It’s what unarms your family. It’s what feels the most inhuman about him.

“Yes, of course,” you reply, nodding your head. Your fingers start scrapping against the control gently. Foot tapping, you attempt to smile. “I would never harm… it. It is also my project, you know?”

It wasn’t.

“Mm, yes, of course. Thank you for all your hard work.” And with a tilt of his hat, he’s off – you watch his retreating back, the muscles with every movement. You just realized he could easily overpower you.

Your fingers dig harder into the control until you can feel your fingernails digging into your own flesh. You wonder if he would turn against you if you were to abandon this job field.

--

Two hours and forty minutes.

That’s how long you have been tampering with the legion arm – your uncle begged you to stop calling it a mechanical arm – greasing it, tightening the screws, making sure that the fingers curl just like a real hand would. And of course it did – it should, especially since nearly all your paychecks and funds go into this puppet and not your own personal life.

Two hours and forty minutes, plus two months and you’re barely about to be done with this damn thing. You finished two other ones before this, but even then, you might have to ‘fix’ them. Make sure that they’re up to your uncle’s very high standards.

“Fuck… why am I even working on this thing? This is the least of our concerns, not to mention – ow, fuck!” In your hurry to get another type of screwdriver, you pushed over a failed ‘heart’ test dummy. It lands directly on your foot, causing you to drop everything else as you hold it with your trembling hands.

They were doing that more often. “Wow, okay, great. Sure, let’s just let everything fall on you. God, I’m going crazy. I might turn into a menace before the protesters and puppets do.” Running a hand through your hair, you pace back in forth, biting your free thumb.

Every time you enter this godforsaken place, your sanity dwindles bit by bit. “Okay, let’s calm down – my foot isn’t bleeding, I think. I should… I should take a break.” Despite your words, you go back to working – picking up the old ‘heart’ and placing it back on the messy table.

Research papers messily stacked at a corner, puppet parts scattered all over, grease stains on the wood. The table wears scratch marks like medals of honor. Pausing for a moment, you walk to the far-right side of the table, picking up the papers and placing them into a clean square bin on the floor. You kick it to some random corner of the workshop.

The urge to rip them to shreds is, in a way, comforting. If those were gone, how could you continue on? They even had blueprints. Nails dig into your palms at the thoughts. Not harsh enough to draw blood, however.

“Hm, I should clean up… but what’s the point? Everything gets scattered again, uncle moves the parts to the most random of places, Howard ends up losing them… so much to do, such little time.”

Ranting to yourself, you stomp to the table again, picking up the new and ‘official’ heart for the puppet. You remember putting it elsewhere. In a drawer. Safe and sound.

And yet, it was on this stupid, stupid table –

“Are they trying to kill me?” you mumble out, on the verge of pulling out strands of your hair. “Not only that, but the fact I could have been harmed today… he knows they already threw stones at me, why make me appear in public again? Why get on the wooden stage that could easily be consumed by fire?”

Without thinking, you stride over to the puppet sitting on the red plush chair. When you’re shy a few inches from it, you take a moment to admire its beauty – the eyes were closed. Long eyelashes that cast shadows onto pale, freckled ‘skin.’ The carob brown hair still looked as soft as ever, with messy curls that remind you of his hair back when he was younger.

Back when everything was normal. Gentler times where warmth wasn’t forced into honeyed words, when you weren’t so scared of being beaten to death. When everything was fine. Happy.

It was missing the left arm – the legion arm. You cast a glance behind you, spotting the arm on the table. That’s the one he wants to put on for now. The most simple, basic one, no complicated functions, no paint, just metal. You decide to leave it.

Turning to face the puppet again, tilting your head, you really take in its appearance; it has an average body type. Maybe a bit more on the lean side, but aside from the pretty face and missing arm, it looked human. It looked normal.

And that’s what scares you.

“…,” against your better judgement, your hand reaches out. Fingertips graze against the cheeks, feeling how cold and smooth it was. It’s flawless compared to your hand. You pause to see if the puppet will move at your touch. When it doesn’t, you bring your hand up, taking a closer step to it. The hair was soft, fluffy. It didn’t feel fake like it should.

It felt real.

“… I shouldn’t be doing this. Hah. I really am going crazy.” The thread that was holding your sanity together was close to snapping. Again, against your better judgement, you act on impulse. Unbuttoning the white button-down, you feel your heart drop at how… human it looks.

But upon closer inspection, there was a thin line, forming a square across the chest. There was a little screw, the opening to inside of the chest. Huffing, you dig into your overcoat pocket, retrieving the specific screwdriver – your uncle makes you carry it like a lifeline. However, you are not sure if he thought it through – what if someone mugged you?

Your hand hesitates as you hold the screwdriver, hovering by the opening. The ‘heart’ was still in your hands. It starts to beat slowly, almost as if coming to life. “… Uncle might kill me if I mess with his favorite puppet…”

Instead of heeding your own words, you open the chest cavity, placing the screwdriver back into your pocket. You’ve seen it before; hollow, wires connecting with each other and to the sides. There’s a small open space where a human heart would be. You look at the one in your hand before nodding your head.

You were acting rebellious, in a way. And it may very well lead into your downfall, either being killed by a puppet going haywire or by your uncle’s red, blinding rage.

You hesitate before gently putting the ‘heart’ into its assigned area. Connecting the wires to it, patting it, watching as it starts to glow, beating steadily. You did not think twice about your actions. After a second, you close it, screwing it shut before walking serval steps away.

Nothing happens.

“Hah… ha-ha, what was I thinking? I went from zero to a hundred within a few minutes… I should take a few days off. Maybe even a week…” chuckling to yourself, you rub your head. You’re getting a migraine. Much be too much caffeine, that coffee would eventually kill you.

Turning around, you walk away from the puppet, heading towards the door to get some fresh air. To force some sanity back into your head before you scream your lungs out and pull out every single strand of your hair out. The longer you stay here, the worse you become.

Creak.

You stop in your tracks, blood turning cold. No. surely not – your eyes widen when you realize how stupid you are. You were dumb enough to connect the wires to the heart. But! When your uncle did that, this didn’t –

You turn your head around so fast you almost snap your neck. Your heart drops.

It opens its eyes, and the first thing it sees is you.

tag list:

@ijustreblogstuff-i-like @chiofany @quzbea @cute-angi

@nealcaffrey2129 @connorsoddsock

@rositabluemoon

#yandere x reader #lies of p #lies of p x reader #yandere lies of p #yandere lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #pinocchio x reader #yandere pinocchio #yandere pinocchio x reader

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei: is here

Capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occure in time, also I am running out of pictures of P he looks the same in every pic (but prettily so) and so im gonna end up using the uh same ones prbly

[TW for this one specifically include: Demeaning uncle Geppetto, mentions of grief, signs of overworking mentioned, blood, wounds and crying, anxiety, puppet going aray]

[Also, I am gonna be like that and mention that I would not mind any comments or reblogs! This series is definitely gonna have short chapters and is currently building up settings but there's gonna be good ol yandere Pinocchio tailing after you like a puppy afterwards, no worries!]

The wrench bent on contact with the floor.

It was mere and old wood but the throw was aggressive enough to leave the tool useless. It was one of many. One he could easily snatch from the Workshop Union from.

Damn these halfwits.

He was not expecting a call from them. They were just as naive and cocky as the Workshop Union, and their glorious, genius breakthroughs.

With a grunt he picked up the tool before carelessly throwing it into a metal bucket. One on the far right corner and one far too familiar.

A heavy and frustrated sigh escaped him.

"Oh, son," Removing one glove, his fingers ran down his sweaty face, "It's always the same with them." Just as briskly as he sat down, Geppetto got up from the chair just as fast. His voice tired but still holding onto bitterness. "Stealing my time meant for you."

Brown eyes tiredly wandered up the motionless figure sitting on the blood-red armchair. The fabric untouched while surrounded by tools and oil, material that fell off shelves left on the floor. The pads were full and soft, so heavenly soft as it seemed - only the best for him even if he was not awake yet. Nevertheless, the sight irked him, from the unfinished touches of the skin up to the missing arm. It couldn't be any arm and so Geppetto had to wait and wait and wait for the material to be stocked again and again.

Progress was thriving at top speed but it didn't seem like that to him. All was too slow. Everybody was too tardy.

The flick of the light was fast but reluctant and as he looked outside, a scoff escaped him. Another long, long night but a dry one at that at least. Krat's cloudless nightsky the only relief he could feel.

Eyes mustered the nervous smile on your lips. Shoulders up to your ears and a little list in your hands - the man's hand absent-mindedly went to his mustache as he offered a smile to the lady before his eyes met yours again. With a nod, you were the next one in line.

The man rose his eyebrows and tilted his melon hat for a moment. You briefly scanned the list in your hands. "Baby blue fabric...made out of cotton, please?" "We certainly have that." Answered the man, "How long? Width and thickness?"

"Oh," You gave the measurements written on the paper and the clerk gestured you to follow. His other hand pointed on the hallway to the left. "Cherry." You turned your head as you tried to keep up, only to see a short puppet appear from the hallway, wearing the same melon hat as the man - only with a small ribbon at the side. Leading you to the back and taking out a roll of the cloth you requested, the man first showed it to you. 'Cherry' in the meantime rose its two hands, which consisted of a scissor and a measuring tape. Yet the clerk stopped it, before looking back to you. "I will let you know, young lady...100% cotton is expensive and we at Tailorshop Cherry never deliver anything other than superb quality."

He could see the hesitance in your face and took another roll of the wall. "60% cotton. Here, feel it." So you do, fingers gliding over the different fabric and as your eyes dart between the two rolls. The clerk eyed you with raised brows and it was almost like the puppet did, too.

You sucked in air. "...Perhaps 100% cotton would be better?" Making a face, the man sucked in air himself. "Can you even afford this, young lady?" He rolled the cloth up, "The measures you request for seem like that of an toddler. I've had...gentlemen pay the same sum to ask for their darlings hand."

"It's fine!"

"It is fine..." You repeated softer, "I am aware that this tailor is known for its quality...but I do know what I want." You pointed at the blue cloth. "This one would be just perfect."

The consequences were clear to you...but finances were the least of your worries. Your eyes throughouly stared at the roll, before looking up at the man and nodding your head firmly once more. Maybe you were too dead set on doing this and all of this might bite you later...it all depended on your uncle. Just musing about it made you deflate a bit. Perhaps it is the age, the stress, the work...but he has been more agitated since you last saw him - before your visit, before you moved here.

Or perhaps it was grief.

Eyes glanced to the side before looking back. "Well then, here you go." Feigning a smile, you took the package, one as big as your torso. You didn't like to think about it. "Cherry will stamp you a card. At the third purchase, 15% off!" It was too long ago. Or not, maybe even. "Thank you for purchasing from Tailorshop Cherry!" The puppet's hand brought out a stamp, punching a cherry-shaped hole on the pink card. It's voice softer and higher than that of the baker. You smiled and bowed before leaving.

Distracting oneself is easy. Either with your own life or with puppets.

A shaky gasp escaped you before the shrill echoes of inserructions neared. Your knees fell to the floor, the card long abandonded on the sullied ground as you clenched your hand to your chest with a high scream. The nearby customers congegrated around you but the salesman was quick to be the first one knelled at your side. Your ears felt about to burst - from the sounds of your crying to the panic of the people and the non-stop imploration of the man. The puppet seemed to speak, somewhere in the shop, for the first time since you entered.

"15% off!"

"15% off!"

"15% off!"

You cried and hissed as the shopkeep forcefully took your hand away from your grasp. Though he begged and begged to at least see, you were sure as hell from the pain that there was too much blood.

Somehow, somewhere feet scrambled and you heard sirens soon after. Before anyone could barge through the door, the man held you by the shoulders as he and others tried to stop the bleeding - begging and begging to not utter the name Tailorshop Cherry.

The sound of stomping in the air as well as revolted murmurs resounded still.

"15% off!"

The stitches and bandages were done with. A woman offered you a handkerchief to dry your tears. Though it was all awfully sweet, the mention of having been lucky that the puppet's clutches did not move any closer to your bone was one you immediately tried to force out of your head.

The card was left there on the shopfloor, its cherry pink color tainted red.

Jumping, you halted before your feet stepped on another pair. The door threw itself shut harsher and louder than anticipated and trying to save face, you quickly stepped to the side. Geppetto continued where he was left off - putting on his coat.

He glimpsed at you from the side, back hunched as he let one arm crawl into the sleeve as he did the other. You bit your lip and avoided his gaze before taking a step back. The wind picked up by the time you came back to the workshop and howled against the door. It creaked slightly.

The older man reached for his hat, "And where were you, young lady?" Finally he fully turned to you, though his eyes were still narrowed. "Out." You quickly but meekly let out and played with a loose wrapping end of the package. "As I told you, Uncle."

"I wasn't aware you'd be out this long." He looked for an umbrella, just in case, but kept his tone flat while speaking. "I don't like it when you are out for that long. Especially as such a young girl as yourself."

"I," You licked your lips after the small stutter, "I wanted to get back by dinner." "Dinner." Geppetto sighed, "Oh. Right, dinner." His hectic movements halted; before he began to button up his coat calmly. Eyes scanned the hallway and turned to you. "Be a dear and order food. Sandwiches or, or pasta. No, actually get something that can be eaten cold." You took a step closer, "Won't you have a bite before you leave? It's late and I am sure you're hungry. Besides, the weather's getting awful."

"The better it is that I leave now." Taking a small, old umbrella he finally found, Geppetto opened the door and took a step outside - but not before looking at you. "Order some food, dear, I'll be sure to enjoy it after I come back. And..." Brown eyes narrowed as he slightly leaned closer. The man scrunched up his nose.

"What happened to you, (Name)?" His eyes flickered to your limp hand. You mimicked his movements but tried to hide the bandaged hand under the parcel anyway.

"...Uncle, today afternoon..."

"Ah, you are fine though now, aren't you?" Geppetto failed to see the frown on your face the moment he mentioned the injury. Instead, he patted his collar down. "We'll talk about this later but this is what happens to children staying out after dark. You don't see how you get hurt."

Again, you tried to gather courage to speak your mind, just a word, a mere objection to his ridicilous and childish assumptions-

"...Go to bed early, (Name). You already have a few dark circles under your eyes, unbecoming of a young lady."

The door was shut close. A strong gale blew into the workshop briefly, leaving a shudder down your spine.

The frown stayed on your face. Still, the parcel had to be stored into your room sooner or later, and it was best done sooner judging from your uncle's mood. Adjusting your grip, as it started to slip out of your clutch, you slowly went up the stairs while having a hard time taking your eyes off the door.

Eyes stayed trained on the needle and the fabric, as well as your fingers, as the sewing machine diligently worked away. Although you held both machinery and fabric rather awkwardly with the side of your hand, the sure progress melted your sadness away, bit by bit.

Your wallet may have not suffered today for you got the fabric graciously for free, but your limb surely did.

The puppet did not really puncture your thumb, the emergency responder said. Still, the injury was deep enough to be treated with stitches and bandages...and a few painkillers, possibly. It kept you on wiping your tears.

The mechanical cadence would stop as you shift and lay the fabric in different directions, cut off unneeded material while avoiding to accidentally stab out your own eyes with the scissor whenever you rubbed them. The experience today was scary enough but despite it, you did not want to stop now.

Forcing yourself to take one more sip of your drink, you cleared your throat. Eyelids feeling heavier.

A puppet wasn't supposed to do that.

No puppet was ever meant to harm another, human or mechanical fellow alike. Even if it was a mere accident - this 'Cherry' should have sensed your flesh being too close to its brackets and it not having targeted the card correctly.

On top of that, echoing its master's words like a madman if you recalled right.

Uncle Geppetto had to know. Even if he would still be too busy to listen, you'd have to let him know.

"...I know you..."

You frowned as the machine begun again. Your voice barely reached the same volume as this old thing...neither did your sniffles.

"...I don't feeling like singing that one." Mumbles reaching no one but yourself. Once again, you sniffled and cleared your throat, focusing on the task at hand.

"...When you wish upon a star..."

Lone words entered the lone room. Sitting up straighter made you feel more focused, more awake. Here, in the moment and aware that this trivial task meant change for you.

"...Makes no difference who you are..."

The machine continued flawlessly despite its age. You even found yourself singing while it conducted its own cadence, no matter if both tunes melodically weaved in together or not.

It was about the feeling. About the action.

It was about being heard even if your only audience was yourself.

Yet it was not. It never was.

"...Anything your heart desires..."

Behind the many walls, down the turning and winding stairs and straight through the locked door, were sounds emitting and attempting to mimick your own.

The rattling was resounding from the underground and offering its own melody in hopes it will join and align with yours.

Though it sung in high and longing tunes when picking up the sound of your sniffles.

Naive, little thing that you were, you did not hear it over your own whimsical fantasies.

"...Will come to you..."

#yandere lies of p #Lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #yandere pinocchio #Pinocchio #Lies of p pinocchio x reader #Pinocchio x reader #P x reader #Yandere #ticking springs

[emlan]

More dubious Carlo (benign) This is technically Part 2 of [this comic], but it also works as a Part 1.

#lies of p #p lies of p #real boy carlo #sir carlo lies of p #geppetto lies of p #giuseppe geppetto #nonsense au #dadson #dadcon #yandere #P/G #C/G #lop

[heartless-tate]

Just Friends? | Dark Azriel X Freader

Summary: You and Azriel are just friends. Who fuck. Or at least that’s how you see it. So what happens when you find out Azriel sees it completely different?. 🧁 | 2.6k words

A/N: I was feeling spicy today for some dark azzie boo bear. FYI, if you’d like this rewritten with a male reader, please ask!

WARNINGS: NSFW content, p in v?, oral F receiving, choking, murder(not reader), torture(not reader), shadow play, slight angst in beginning, fingering, slight degradation, slight manipulation, reader with she/her pronouns. with a pussy. THIS IS YANDERE CONTENT. ITS DARK AND POSSESSIVE.

The apartment is eerily silent. It’s dark, and shadows seem to liter every surface tonight. The stench of mold and something rotten doesn’t overwhelm your senses much anymore. Living here on this side of Velaris, you think you’re use to it. You didn’t bother turning the lights on. They always left a weird dim and yellow setting. The moonlight rays from the windows were enough light for now.

You stood in the cramped kitchen, in front of the oven. You stared at the cupcakes baking inside. Then at the clock; 3:04 am. You hadn’t been able to sleep and why not bake cupcakes? The inner circle would certainly enjoy them tomorrow. Not to mention it’d give you an excuse to question Rhysand of Azriel’s whereabouts. He always stops by your place at least once every three days. Or around that. It had been a week. You were lonely. And sexually frustrated. It was hard to get off without his long scarred fingers pressing into your skin, holding you close like he might lose you, and his cock pumping into you teasingly slow. Nothing compared to the feeling of it. Of him.

Going from fucking everyday, on almost any surface, to nothing within a week was driving you crazy. You needed it. You needed him. And not just sexually. But he couldn’t find that out. You wonder if you shouldn’t have had sex with him that night. Started whatever this mess was. Friends? Or what was it books called it?

Friends with benefits. You two spent the day time as friends, hanging out, talking, and at night you fucked like rabbits during the mating season. Or any time of the day really. You have had a crush on Azriel ever since you met him. How could you not? He was kind. Different. Quiet. And you both hit it off so easily when Rhysand introduced you to the inner circle. it seemed like he was always there. And if he wasn’t, his shadows were. Sure, you don’t have him as yours. But he was your friend. Your best friend. And that was enough. Or at least you tried to convince yourself that.

And so when he came back from a mission, sweaty and heated up from anger- you couldn’t help but relax and let him take control. You had had a stressful day too. Why not? Why not let your hot bestfriend fuck you senseless? That’s where the downfall was. You were just pity fuck or a way to blow off some steam for him. You see the way he’s always talking to Elain. You satisfied him for now. So you would happily reduce yourself to what felt like a sex toy, waiting for him in your shitty apartment in hopes maybe one day he would return your feelings. And more then ever you hated that you missed him, and not just the sex. You didn’t even have a clue to what day it was.

You approached the calendar on the wall and peered at it. He said he’d be back today. Or yesterday- since it’s 3:06 am now. He lied. Maybe he had found another woman. Jealousy swirled inside of you, ever growing like an invasive species. You slumped back down beside the oven. This was depressing. You felt like some lonely sad and depressed wife waiting for her husband to come home. Except he wasn’t your husband. And this wasn’t his home. And one day he’ll find another woman and you’ll be nothing but a faint memory in his mind.

A shadow scurried to you, dancing excitedly, others surrounded and curiously observed you. You watched as they scattered around your body as if searching for any harm. You paused- his shadows were back. Which meant he was back. And near. The shadow dancing in your face swirled and gently brushed against your cheek as if consoling you. As if it knew you were sad. You heard the door open to your apartment. You stood running to the living room watching as Azriel entered your apartment. He looked so out of place here. He slightly reeked of blood. As if he hadn’t washed it off yet and had just used magic to hide it for now. His hair was tussled and his eyes were oddly alert at this hour. He smirked at seeing you standing so excitedly. More shadows rushed to join the ones dancing around you, as if celebrating you.

You were so happy to see him again! But he was late. And probably was with another woman. You frowned and stepped back slightly.

“Where were you?”You questioned, crossing your arms. The shadows slowed to a lazy swirl. His wings tucked in slightly. He approached.

“Does it matter love? I’m here now.” He whispered cunningly, pulling you in by your hips. His fingers quickly moved underneath the baggy T-shirt of his you were wearing to grip at the flesh of your hips. He smiled at you broadly as if just noticing you were only wearing his shirt and panties. Your eyebrows furrowed. He could scent your arousal.

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.” You snuffed out. His wings tucked in further, his eyes flashing with darkness for a slight second.

“Do not question me.” He whispered softly. Azriel pulled you in closely nuzzling his cheek against your hair. He flinched when you jerked away angrily. He watched as you started back to the kitchen.

“Fine. It’s whatever. After all we’re just-“

“Don’t you fucking dare say friends, Y/n.” He snarled loudly. A sharp contrast from his before behavior. Before you could respond he was pulling you back, your back hitting his chest. It was like he snapped. His arms wrapped tightly around your center, holding you still as his wings surrounded you both.

“The only reason I’ve been putting up with your fucking friends with benefits bullshit is to give you time to adjust.” Azriel said, hands roaming. It became difficult to focus.

“What? What is that suppose to mean Azriel?”

His hand found it’s way to your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot on your panties. He snickered. Of course you were turned on. His hard chest pressed into you and you could feel his erection firmly prodding against your back. The size difference between you two was almost unbelievable. You had been turned on since you got lost in thought of him earlier. Since that wet dream you had. You mewled softly as two tendrils of his shadows slither their way under your shirt and rub against your perked nipples. Azriel smirked and kissed your neck slowly. He moved your panties to the side and dipped his finger into your gushing cunt, enjoying the sounds it made. And the ones you made.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped in response. It felt like you were on fire. Azriel was always capable of reducing you to a moaning incoherent mess within seconds. His long scarred fingers started pumping in and out of you, pressing into the one spot that made you cry out. His other hand grasped your throat and forced your head up to face him. His amber eyes were dark and piercing, a feral look on his face. It was terrifying, and yet you felt your body react differently then your mind did.

“What it means is, this pussy is fucking mine. This body. This mind. You’re fucking mine. You’ve been mine since the day we met. My beautiful foolish mate. I waited for the bond to snap for you, but it hasn’t yet. So when we started fucking, I assumed it would snap for you soon. And I could give you time to grow use to me, to having a lover and someone who cares for you. I know nobody has cared for you in a long while, sweet little thing. I knew you would need time to adjust. But it seems maybe you got the wrong idea. We’re not just friends. We’re mates. You belong to me. I belong to you. There will never be anyone else for us. Just me and you.. for eternity.” He whispered possessively in your ear. His feral smile only seemed to grow, making your own fear- but also pleasure grow? His thumb rubbed at your clit at a breathtaking speed, eyes sharp as they watched you squirm. He refused to let go of you though. Holding you close. You couldn’t process his words clearly. Everything felt too good. Too right. Like you belonged there- in his arms.

“W-wait az-“ you whimpered out trying to jerk your hips from the overwhelming heat building in your core. Azriel didn’t relent, shoving a third finger in you, dragging it slowly against your walls. He started pumping them in, every-time he hit the spot he knew that would make you dumb. The spot he knew would make you cock drunk when he angled his dick to press into it every-time he pumped into you. The shadows twirled and pinched at your nipples, creating a mix of pain and pleasure. They knew you enjoyed it. Azriel knew you did with the way your soaking cunt spasmed. You were close. He could see it in the way your body went limp against him. His hand grasped at your throat more aggressively- cutting off some of your air. His eyes were narrowed as he forced you to look at him. He knew you were close by the foggy and dumb look you gave him.

“Cum on my fingers princess. Make a mess.” Azriel purred sweetly, pressing his hard on into your back for some friction. He smirked knowingly when you cried out silently, hands clawing at his arm that was wrapped around neck. He felt the way your walls tightened, clenching around his fingers and he felt wetness leak around them. He released your throat, letting air back in. You gasped for air desperately. Your cunt was gushing around his fingers, a mixture of wetness and cum dripping drown his scarred hands. You clenched around nothing at the sight as he pulled them away.

“Atta girl. Look at you, making a mess of me hands. Clean it up hun.” He cooed, raising his fingers to your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth, allowing his fingers to be shoved into your mouth. You sucked them, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight, pressing his erection against you again. Shadows suddenly swarmed around you both, and all of a sudden you were inside of Azriel’s house. Well- one of them. He had a penthouse, and a secluded cabin-house? It was deep in the forest and and secluded with the sense of a cabin but much more bigger and fancier. It had a modern look to it. He kept it secret, as it was a hide away for himself, but he always brought you to it.

He pushed you against his bed, mounting you like a feral animal. Both of your clothes disappeared- except for the shirt of his you had on. It stayed. His shadows swirled around you two. His erection prodded your ass.

Azriel seemed much more animalistic now, as he rutted his erection agaisnt you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he lifted you to him. He pulled you into a long, wet, and sloppy kiss. He nipped your lips until swollen and slightly bloody. And you returned it, happily, forgetting everything else. For now. He pulled away when you tapped his arm, needing air. He stared as you regained your breath.

“You wanna know where I was?” He asked, using his knee to knock your legs wider. His hand reached in between yours, feeling your wetness. He ears twitched at the sound of your soft gasp.

“Y-yes” You stuttered out, rutting into his hand.

“I was hunting down that pathetic excuse of your landlord. After you told me about how he threatened to touch you to make up for your lack of money and the missed payments, I went and found the fucker. I had to go on a mission Rhys sent me on, but I told him to count his days. When I got back, I found him and fucking destroyed that piece of shit.” Azriel growled proudly, taking in the scent of your fear and confusion. “He screamed like a little baby, louder then any other girl I’ve tortured before. I made it hurt. Nobody gets to fucking talk or touch my girl like that. Nobody.” He huffed out, chest puffed up with pride.

Azriel grunted when you shoved him away and scrambled to the headboard. His head titled with confusion. He scented your fear and his ears picked up the sound of your heart beat.

Azriel killed someone. You realized. He killed your landlord. It was hard to wrap your head around it. You knew he wasn’t innocent but the Azriel you knew was soft and kind. Not- not this. He killed someone. For you. Someone died. Because of you. Dread filled your bones. He crawled forward. Straddling your hips before you could move. His naked body in all it’s glory.

“Oh sweet thing, don’t be scared. I would never, ever, harm you. Don’t be afraid of me. I was just protecting you. And your landlord wasn’t just threatening you. He was doing it to other females. It’s okay, princess. He was just getting his deserved consequences. Can you imagine how many woman I could’ve possibly saved from his harm tonight? Don’t be scared of me. You’re safe.” Azriel purred out, wings flared. His cock rested on your stomach. You couldn’t help but relax as his scarred hands slowly spread your thighs. He’s right. Azriel’s always right. Someone could’ve been hurt if it wasn’t for him. He was doing you, and other women a favor. There was no reason you shouldn’t just relax and enjoy this. Him.

He smirked, hooking your legs upon his shoulder. Azriel, rubbed gentle circles in your thigh. He admired your pretty cunt. And then you. In his shirt. Smothered in his scent- inside and outside. In his bed. In his house. Where no one could disturb you. Pussy on display for him. And just him. He moved his hips down before nose diving into your pussy, scenting you. You smelled and tasted divine and your cute yelps and squirms of shock only spurred him on as he lapped at your gushing cunt for more. You tasted divine. Better then he could imagine. His hands held tight, nails leaving crescent moon shapes in the soft flesh of your thighs. Azriel couldn’t help but groan and whimper loudly at your taste. Tongue lapping and lapping like a starved man.

“Azzie!” You squeaked out, hands clutching at his hair, hips rutting into his face. His eyes were stuck on you, staring you down like a lion who had finally caught its favorite mouse. He groaned before pulling away, your wetness dripping down his face. He held eye contact as he licked around his mouth, enjoying your flavor. He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped it against your swollen clit, watching as you squirmed and yelped, sensitive. You were so adorable. His shadows slithered around your body before multiple restrained your limbs down. Leaving you helpless and vulnerable to him.

You relaxed. Azriel would never hurt you. He’s always been there for you. And this is what you wanted- him. And even better- he was your mate. Yours. And you were his. Who cares if he brutally killed your landlord? He was just doing his job as your mate. Protecting you. And plus, you have an excuse to move in with him. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be living this bed for a long, long, time. And as he slowly lined his fat cock with your soaking cunt, you couldn’t help but remember one thing. Your fucking cupcakes.

#azriel #acosf #acotar #imagine #x reader #acotar 5 #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #acotar series #Rhysand X reader #azriel x you #yandere azriel #yandere x reader #yandere acotar #azriel x reader smut #smut

[ikarasu]

🍫Dark Chocolate🍫

Yandere Carlo/P x reader

Warning: spoilers, yandere behavior, broken bones, and death

Reader’s Perspective: 🍫White Chocolate🍫

Final Part: 🥀Tummy Ache🥀

Word Count: 2598

🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~

Love… I’ve only heard of it being described in fairytales. Yet my life isn’t a fairytale, it’s reality. I have never received familiar love. My ‘father’ was always so absent in my life that I don’t believe I should even call him a father. I remember reading fairy tales as a child and thinking to myself that I still had a chance to experience love. Until my ‘father’ announced to me the arranged marriage. My hope for love died that day. Of course… I guess I’m just cursed to never experience true love. The day I had to meet the one I was to betroth was a dreadful day. I knew that they were coming from some rich family who dabbled in the vehicle industry. I also knew that their family only were after my ‘father’s’ puppets. This love is fake, under the guise of a beautiful union to cover up its selfish purposes of our parents’ greed for success. Just like white chocolate, its milky white sweetness covers up the fact it’s not actually chocolate.

My ‘father’ and I went to their luxury home to meet. I begged my father to cut off this arrangement. Instead, he went on and scolded me, saying that I was lucky to be marrying someone who’s made ‘perfectly’ for me. I rolled my eyes as we got closer to our destination. At the front door, my ‘father’ brushes off his coat before turning and fixing my hair. The door opens and we’re greeted by Mrs.(last name) and Mr.(Last Name). Behind them, I spot someone around my age hiding shyly. Their (eye color) eyes sparkle and stare at me curiously. Just like they would describe in fairytales. I flush and turn away, reminding myself that this isn’t love. That I didn’t ’choose’ them, that our parents did this out of benefit. I was pulled out of my thoughts as I heard the most heavenly voice speak.

“Hi… I’m (name), it’s a pleasure to meet you” they said so shyly, it was cute.

I hadn’t noticed I didn’t respond until my father gave me a small nudge.

“Son, it’s not very nice of you to not greet (name) as well.”

I feel the embarrassment flood my body as I realize I have just been staring at (name).

“I’m Carlo, a pleasure to meet you”

From that day on, I knew I had to be careful to not fall for this fake love. I refuse to give my ‘father’ the satisfaction of receiving a successful deal out of this arranged marriage.

As the years passed I could never get rid of (name)’s presence. Always following me around like some lost dog. It was pathetic, their parents must’ve told them to do this. Yet deep down I couldn’t help but enjoy their attention on me. The devotion to follow me everywhere and shower me with compliments. Yet I always remembered that this love isn’t real. It’s just an illusion formed by our parents’ greed. Or at least that was what I thought until the petrification disease spread across Krat.

“Mother! Father! Please! We must take Geppetto and Carlo with us!” (Name) says desperately

I remember standing there as our parents discussed the ongoing pandemic. The (last name) family was planning on fleeing Krat until the disease died down. Yet (name) didn’t want to leave me or my ‘father’ behind. The tears and desperation in their voice as they begged to take us or even stay with us touched the parts of my heart I didn’t know existed. Yet I knew it wasn’t safe for them to stay. So I did what I had to do to protect (name) from this disease. It’s the least I could do to make up for my ignorance and cold behavior toward them.

“Can’t you see you’re not wanted here, (name)? Go! You would be doing me a favor by running off with your family of cowards.” I say in a cold tone, despite the turmoil it caused inside of me.

Seeing their eyes look at me in disbelief and betrayal hurt me more than any weapon could. But I steel myself and push them away to protect them. I’m glad I did because it wasn’t long before I caught the disease myself. Even now as I breathe my last breaths I don’t regret pushing (name) away. Yet I can’t help but mourn over the chance at love. If only I had looked at (name) and not the arranged marriage. Maybe in another life, we could’ve been so much more.

🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~Time Skip~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~

I had only woken up a few hours ago and followed a voice to the Krat Hotel. No memories or emotions coursed through me. Only an objective to arrive at the Krat Hotel and find my father. The cold rain making my clothes cling to me like a second skin didn’t even bother me. Now here I am standing in the lobby talking to Sophia. I recognize her voice to be the one that led me here. She explained to me where my father was last seen. I took it all in as just information to get me closer to my objective. That was until I heard a sweet voice.

“Sophia, who’s the newcomer-“

I stop and stare at the most heavenly person I’ve ever seen. The gears and ergo in my veins move faster. Something deep inside my ergo calls for them.

“I-it can’t be…”

“Oh, (name), I want you to meet P”

Instinctively my hand raises to reach and hold theirs. I wanted to feel their touch and I wanted to hear their voice more. Yet before our hands could touch they pulled away and ran off. I almost wanted to go after them. Something insides me yearns for them, but I remember my objective and turn back to Sophia.

🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~Time Skip~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~

I had just recently saved my father from the Mad Donkey before bringing him back to the Krat Hotel. Already he assigned me to get rid of the abandoned watchman at the town hall. I arrived back late at the hotel after successfully completing my objective. My father calls me into his office. I obediently arrive and he sits me on a chair before standing before me tiredly.

“Son, I’ve assumed you’ve seen (name) again?”

I nod but I can’t help but be confused. What did he mean by ‘again’?

“I know that seeing your betrothed again may have been upsetting, but do know that they still adore you.“

Betrothed? What was my relationship with (name) before?

“Treat them well, even if they’re a bit rough around the edges at the moment. They’ll come around sooner or later”

With that said I stare and nod at my father. Treat them well… if my father commands me, I shall obey.

Over time I notice (name) helping around the hotel. The way they would smile with Eugénie or Sophia when they talked. I wish that their smile would be directed toward me as well. Even the way they would coo and cuddle Spring made me want their attention more. Everything they did was so… perfectly sweet. Just like how I would hear Eugénie talk about chocolate. How it’s the perfect balance of sweet and rich flavors, something I wish to experience as well. As I collected more ergo on my journey I couldn’t help but notice something new about myself. The way my ergo would yearn and sing around (name) or even if they would glance at me for a second. The springs and gears inside of me would creak louder. What is this feeling?

One evening after coming back from my recent journey I couldn’t help but notice a figure heading to the library. My curiosity got the better of me and I followed. I quietly enter the library only to see (name) struggling to reach a book on a high shelf. It was cute seeing them on their tippy toes. I approach them from behind and grab the book easily. As our bodies touched I felt a shock throughout my body. The feeling of their warmth against my cold body was addictive. I wanted more.

“Thank you” (name) barely whispers before grabbing the book out of my hand and running off.

I stare at their disappearing figure with longing. After having this small taste I couldn’t help but want all of it.

The next few days I noticed how (name) was actively avoiding me. It was driving me insane not being able to at least enjoy staring at them doing mundane things. I was more distracted as my ergo was nearly bursting with want. Gemini had made multiple comments on my distracted mind.

“Hey pal, let’s call it quits early today. You seem… distracted. We don’t want you making a slip-up, not to call you sloppy or anything”

I nod before using the stargazer to return to the hotel. As I walked to head back to my father’s office I heard a beautiful melody playing. My feet walked towards the music and as I got closer I could hear the sounds of someone crying as well. Concerned, I turn the corner to the piano and see (name) playing the piano. The tune was beautiful and almost nostalgic. I really liked the melody and walked closer to (name) silently. My body felt like it was moving on its own as I kept staring at (name). Once they finished playing it felt like I was pulled out of a trance. Their crying was all that was left in the room. I couldn’t help but put a hand on their shoulder to comfort them.

“Go away… you’re the last ‘thing’ I want to see at the moment” they say resentfully

Yet something deep within my ergo told me not to. My body moves on its own and pulls (name) into a hug. It feels like my body has been wanting to do this, that it needed to. I feel (name) relax into my embrace before continuing to cry. All of their grief was laid out before me and I gladly held it all close to me.

From that moment on, (name) had become more softer and affectionate to me. Just as my father said, “They’ll come around”. This love blossomed the more ergo I collected and the more human I felt. Yet that all came crashing down after I came back from the beach. Those flashbacks of Carlo’s memories haunted me. Watching how easily Carlo passed upon (name)’s love until his last moments. It made me feel disgusted with myself. That’s when I promised to never let (name) experience being unloved ever again. So when my journey was coming to an end I laid with (name) one last time before fighting Simon. I promised to never leave them alone again. Our ergo was meant for each other. I whisper my promise to them before departing.

“I promise to come back… I won’t leave you again, (name)”

🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~Time Skip~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~

I had finally defeated Simon and I stood before my father. He tells me how proud he is and that now I can finally be a real boy for (name). That I could fully love them as I was meant to if only I gave my heart. I nod as my father pulls me close and hugs me for the first time. I smile then I feel the sharp pain of my heart being removed. The last thought I had was of my love for (name).

I wake up once more feeling rejuvenated. My father is staring down at me with a smile.

“Father” I say happily as he helps me up onto my feet.

“Welcome back my son” my father responds joyfully

I hug him tightly as he leads us out of the building.

“Carlo, my son, you remember (name)?”

Instantly my heart is thrumming and I look excited.

“(Name)? Where are they?” I ask eagerly

My father smiles and tells me that they’re at the Hotel Krat, but that I needed to get rid of some pests that reside there with them. My body feels a sudden rush at the thought of making father proud. Before I could rush off to complete Father’s wishes he stopped me.

“(Name) will be very happy to see you again. Finally, you two can be united just as it was always meant to be. I saved this for you two just for this day”

Father pulls out two rings and I slip one on. The thought of having (name) all to myself thrills me. All of their love and affection will finally be all mine.

🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~Time Skip~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~

Oh, the sounds of beautiful screams fill the halls. What a joyous day for me. Finally, all of the love I deserve is going to belong all to me. I happily walk to (name)’s room, the warm blood and oil speckle my body in beautiful shades of red and black. Slowly I open the door to reveal an empty room. Oh… playing hide and seek now, I love games. I silently search the room until I hear the faintest of breaths exhaled from the wardrobe. It brings a smile to my face. I rip open the wardrobe and pull (name) against me. Their screams are like music to my ears.

“My love~ I promised you I would come back”

I hold them close as I stare lovingly down at them. I love the way their fear makes them look like a cute bird caught by a cat. The way I can feel their heart pounding against their chest. They’re so excited to see me again as well!

“Let go of me! You monster!”

Monster? No, no, they got it all wrong. Why are they being so bitter? Where’s the sweet love from before? I feel them push against me weakly. This isn’t right… they’re supposed to love me. Then I realized maybe they just need to learn. They forgot how to love a human, not a puppet.

“Now, now, that’s not very nice of you, love~”

The tears that spilled from their eyes were so cute. So helpless and vulnerable, just proving that they need me.

“Father promised me that we were made for each other. So start acting like it, love.”

I feel them tremble in my hold before submitting to me. It brings a smile to my face. They only needed some ‘encouragement’ to open up to me again.

“That’s a good spouse~”

I lean close to reward them with a kiss. Suddenly I stumbled back as they smashed a vase against my head. I growl and glare as I watch them run. Fine. If they want to play a game of chase then so be it. I ran after them throughout the hotel. I’m impressed as they managed to run outside, but it’s about time I ended all of these games. I grab their leg before snapping it easily.

“See? That’s what happens when you’re not a good spouse. I have to clip your wings.”

Feeling the victory and joy at finally winning. I pull out the matching ring and slip it onto their finger. They’re all mine! All of their love is all mine! I can’t help but pull them into a kiss. They cry louder and it brings me joy.

“That’s right, love! Cry! It’s a joyous moment for both of us. Now we can be together forever just as we were meant to be”

(Name) may be bitter now, but I guess dark chocolate takes some time getting used to before it can be fully appreciated.

🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~🖤~🍫~

Notes: I hope you all enjoy this. I’m also sorry that this fic is way longer than the first one.

@jssy96 ~ @emberstoriesandtales ~ @justatimidcreator

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #p #lies of p pinocchio x reader #pinocchio x reader #lies of p carlo #carlo x reader #lies of p Carlo x reader #yandere x reader #Yandere Carlo #gender neutral fanfic