lovesickloverboys

[lovesickloverboys]

Trigger Warning! Implied Non-con! Forced Relationship! Yandere Husband!

Unedited | 1.26k Words

Andre was always rational, never unnecessarily cruel or emotional. That was the worst part about him, he was cold, left you feeling touch starved and alone even in his embrace. He was strict, he wouldn’t tolerate deviation from his routine or attempts to ruin the perfect image he had built for you but he wasn’t cruel. At the end of the day it felt like you only had yourself to blame for your misfortune. He wouldn’t criticise you for no reason but that meant that the instances where he did, he was probably right. He wouldn’t scream or yell but in turn left you feeling like a disobedient child.

His affection left much to be desired but you blame yourself for it rather than him, because Andre was perfect. He always remembered anniversaries and birthdays, never letting you want for anything but you had always felt so alone. There was an emptiness that he couldn’t fill no matter what he did because Andre was an actor.

Nothing about Andre was genuine because a character with no flaws is no character at all. He seemed above your childish tantrums and far too sophisticated to enjoy simpler things, lived in a world that was perfectly tailor made for him. But you weren’t Andre, you weren’t logical, or perfect, your acting was subpar at best and you didn’t fit into his world. You were emotional and living in his cold world devoid of any warmth was not something you could tolerate so despite every well planned argument he placed in front of you, you stood your ground.

“I want a divorce.” You tried your best to keep a firm tone, you were sure he would take advantage of any hesitation that you showed.

“Darling, as I’ve said already, I—.” He spoke softly, as always, interrupting you with his finely built arguments, ones that you were sure would work in any other situation. Arguments that you could reason with if you had not been as fed up as you were, filled with unadulterated hatred for the man you were supposed to love. This time you were set on getting what you wanted, you were sick of feeling like this.

“I don’t care for whatever bullshit reason you have this time, I feel miserable every day I spend with you!” You probably could have gone through with this in a more elegant manner but you were at your limit. Andre had always been rational but you couldn’t understand him this time. You were sure he wouldn’t have trouble remarrying someone better, it’s not like you lived in the Middle Ages where divorce meant your life was over. It probably wouldn’t affect his image much. So why was he so hell-bent on keeping you stuck in a relationship where both of you would be miserable?

You expected another well balanced counter argument, maybe a comment about how foul your behaviour was, how unbecoming it was. But instead he stood there, a look you had never seen before and a scowl that seemed so out of place compared to his usual poker face. You instinctively sunk into yourself, trying to avoid what you thought was his attempt at reaching for you, what for you? You didn’t want to find out. But instead he walked past you, stormed out despite still maintaining his obnoxiously elegant posture.

You thought it would blow over, that he would come back and pretend nothing happened, he didn’t seem like the type to acknowledge such arguments. But he didn’t return at his usual time, and instead you found all the exits to your house locked and your set of keys missing.

When your husband did return, he didn’t go to your shared bedroom as usual, instead went straight for his office, you just barely caught him. Slamming the door to his study shut before you said anything else.

“What the hell is your problem?! Where are my keys?! If you’re going to act like this at least let me leave!”

”You will do no such thing.” That’s it. No reason, no explanation as to why he decided on this, just a singular order. You had started to back up, this was unlike Andre. The atmosphere in the room had changed.

“And why is that? Who do you think you are to decide for me?!”

Andre himself didn’t understand. The logical thing, the right thing to do would be to let you go quietly, to not put up a fuss and part ways. He didn’t have any love in him when he chose you as his marriage partner (before you had ever officially met him), you were just the right choice, at the right place, at the right time and with the right background. It wasn’t him who was drawn to you out of all other potential candidates, you were just the best choice. He has a good memory, that’s why he remembered your birthday, and your wedding anniversary. It would look bad if he didn’t buy you the best present money could buy.

Sharing a bed was necessary for any married couple, not because he searched for your warmth, desperately clinging to it every night, whether intentionally or not.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his nose bridge, brows furrowed as he came to the realisation. Love? He had come to love you? Has he always felt this way? For someone who boasted a memory as excellent as his, he couldn’t remember when it started. But there was no denying what this was, it was love, an obsessive love that ate at his insides every moment he kept trying to contain it.

If he told you that, you would understand, wouldn’t you? You’d forgive his past sorry attempts at being a good husband and give him a chance to prove himself, wouldn’t you? After all, you’ve always been understanding, despite your recent outbursts, you would try to understand him.

“Darling, let’s try to calm down.” That’s not what he wanted to say, he wanted to say he loved you, to scream it until his voice gave out but it wouldn’t come out, this in turn only irked you more. You looked ready to leave, too annoyed to even continue talking to him. He couldn’t have that, he’d beg if you wanted so please don’t leave.

Well, if he couldn’t tell you, he’d show you. After all, actions speak louder than words. So he grabbed your wrist before you could drift further from him and dragged you to your shared bedroom, ignoring all cries and protests from you. He made sure to lock the door behind him, you looked like you were ready to bolt out the door the moment he let go of you.

“You-! What are you doing, unlock the door now!” However, your protests seem to fall on deaf ears once more.

“You asked why I wouldn’t let you go? I’ll show you why.”

Andre had never been unreasonable or cruel but that night you realised he was as flawed as anyone else, as dirty as any other and as cruel as he could want to be. You realise how much you miss his distant and unfamiliar self, before you got to know him in so many different ways.

How unfamiliar he looked to you as he kissed you in places he didn’t dare to touch before, as his smile resembled that of a madman and his eyes reflected pure euphoria.

Your husband had always been unreasonable and cruel, you just never knew.

Masterlist

#BESTIE YOU COOKED ‼️‼️ #yandere #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere scenario #yandere oc x reader #wonderful works

[lovesickloverboys]

in the wake of death.

// Yandere Blade

sum: Blade doesn’t need to do anything.

wc: 835

warnings: mentions of blood

a/n: this fic kicked my ass ngl so likes & reblogs are even more appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

You’ve always been on the easy-going end of the spectrum, hardly worrying about most things without a good reason. Logic and rationality play important roles in keeping the peace in your life, but now you’re not so sure anymore.

It started a little while ago, when it was formally announced that Blade, a member of the notorious Stellaron Hunters, had escaped from the hands of the Cloud Knights, and was now on the run in the Luofu. Although you were scared of the prospect of running into him, you concluded that if you blended in with the crowds during the day and stayed at home during the night, he was unlikely to attack you… probably.

The plan worked, for the most part - you continued about your days with little thought about him, having pushed him into the back of your mind because, well, what were the chances of running into a criminal like him in a crowd of thousands, and what were the chances he would really give you the time of day when he had the constantly patrolling Cloud Knights to be conscious of?

Your life was just fine and dandy, until one day - a day you can only remember in bits and pieces, a day you’re not even sure happened. But regardless of what truly happened that day, you know something changed in your once peaceful life.

There’s been an ominous sense of doom following your every breath, the uncomfortable feeling of being watched, and the suffocating sensation of a hand atop the place your heart is. Sometimes, sometimes, it slowly creeps up to your collarbone, then neck, its final destination on your cheek, a thumb on your lips. It stays there, and although you know a phantom has no control over you, you feel as though you’ve been muted.

In your dreams, your eyes are always closed, never to be opened. In your dreams, you stand alone, alone until there’s an embrace from a warm body that lacks any sense of humanity and life behind it, like a puppet given life yet not free from its strings.

They hold you tightly, and even as you wheeze for air, they do not relent. You can feel their every breath as it makes its way from the top of your head down to the crook of your neck, and it gets shallower and shallower the longer it stays there, until eventually it stops, yet their grip on you horrifyingly real.

They speak in a deep and raspy voice, words unintelligible, but you never fail to make out two:

“…Not yet.”

And you are jolted awake, gasping for air, arms hugged tightly around your stomach, the skin tender and bruised as if it was real. But it can’t be, right? Dreams and reality are two different dimensions… aren’t they?

You’ve realized that there is no place in the world that could ever make you offer you safety from a phantom only you know of. No one would listen to the ramblings of a mad person, much less take their words seriously. Worse yet, they may even think you are afflicted with the Mara.

Like a cruel joke the Elation has decided to play on you, a peek outside your window grants you the sight of the very man whose wanted posters are plastered all over the ship. His long hair blows in the wind as he stands with his back turned to your house, the hilt of a sword and the tip of a blade the only things not covered by his body.

Trembling from fear, you retreat from the window as quietly as you can. Becoming a victim of a Stellaron Hunter was and certainly is not in your places, both now and future.

You don’t know how much time passed before the light shines once more, indicating the arrival of day. Even so, you cannot find it within yourself to get up, for fear of what could be (is?) outside. While there is no place truly safe anymore, your home is perhaps the closest you can get (but for how long will it stay?).

You stay in bed for as long as your body and mind allows, until eventually you are reminded that you are a species that requires sustenance, and saliva does not count. Ignorance only goes so far until there is genuine pain, a protest against starvation.

Tremors still rack your body and mind, fear still holds your hand, and despite it all, you are still awake, still breathing, still alive.

You regret your decision when the first thing you see is a singular, familiar red flower decorating your table, a splatter of crimson liquid serving as its platter, still dripping with the quietest sound.

Bile creeps up your throat and lands onto the floor in front of you, your knees buckling as if they’ve been holding the weight of the world.

The nightmare is real, and it stares at you with blood red eyes.

(All in the name of “love”.)

#yummy yummy paranoia #personally id go out and hug him but thats just me #another piping hot meal from bannah 🙏 #honkai star rail #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #blade #blade x reader #yandere blade #hsr blade #hsr #yandere x reader

[lovesickloverboys]

Would anyone be interested in some emergency commissions? (I need money 😓) (I’m imagining cricket noises in the bg)

Would probably be 10 usd per 1000 words (idk how to price this stuff)

Should take around a week at most and money will be fully refunded if I am unable to write your request

I can write anything other than smut 🙏

Only other requirement would be for it to either be a character I’m aware of so I can write them without making them too ooc or one of your ocs with a detailed character description

Implied non con and other serious topics are fine with me 👍

Pls dm me if u are interested 🥺🥺👉👈

I should probably make this more professional 😭

I can do drawing commissions as well but idk if I’m good enough to be charging for that rn and idk how much I would price my art at 😓

#help a girl out #boosting #writing #fanfiction writing #taking commisions #yandere #Yandere writing commissions #you can do it bestie !!!

[lovesickloverboys]

win it all.

// Yandere Aventurine

sum: Aventurine thinks he knows what love is.

wc: 753

warnings: 2.1 main story quest spoilers, perhaps OOC aven

a/n: likes & reblogs appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

Aventurine knows his worth. Sixty Tanba, no more, no less.

He has sat in cages for days, months, years, on end, left to the throes of his mind, starvation and thirst his only partners.

He has stood in front of slave masters and the IPC, gambling opponents and planet heads fearlessly betting his life each and every time. After all, what good is a life worth only sixty Tanba?

Aventurine never hesitates. Bets wait for no one, and even a millisecond of hesitation could spell the end for a gambler like him. All or nothing, both feet in the door or none at all. He’s not one to make half-assed decisions.

When he sees you on a planet he can’t seem to remember the name of, he already knows he wants you whole.

Aventurine is more than happy to wager his life to wrestle back the planet for the IPC. He sees the cocky smile on your leader's lips, and he already knows he has won. Overconfidence is the best monster, he had come to realize many, many years ago.

It’s no surprise when he comes out victorious once more, a calm smile on his face as he watches your leader drown in their anger and disbelief. As a personal reward, he takes you for himself; the IPC and Diamond could care less about a single person. To them, you’re worthless. To him?

He dresses you up in the finest gold the universe has to offer, wraps the fluffiest coats around your body. He clips on the prettiest aventurines he can find, decorating you head to toe in gifts. He watches as hair stylists comb and style your hair, watching in satisfaction as you look up to him, manufactured adoration in your eyes.

To him, you are his love, his darling, his dearest. From what little of love he can remember, he swears he feels it again when he looks at you.

Aventurine holds you close, like he’s afraid someone Katicans would steal kill you; like he’s afraid you’ll disappear just like everyone else has from the slightest blow of the wind. You wouldn’t, would you? No, of course not. Aventurine would never allow it.

Sometimes, he wonders if he’s becoming like those who tormented (torments?) him. He wonders if he is no better than the slave master who bought him for only sixty Tanba, but when he sees you sleeping peacefully in his arms, the finest silk pajamas hugging your body, he knows he is better. No master would pamper their slave with priceless jewels and clothings like he has.

You are his lovely sparrow, his most precious prize, and he has merely… given your wings accessories. Yes, that’s right. He’s not caging you, he’s not hiding you away, he’s protecting you. Who knows what would’ve happened to you after the IPC took over? Subjected to grunt work with no hope of ranking up? Aventurine can’t stand to entertain the thought. What matters is that you’re in his arms, safe and loved.

Penacony is perhaps the first time in a long time that he’ll leave you behind. He’s reluctant, but he also knows that bringing you would only spell disaster for all parties involved, and he doesn’t like the idea of seeing even a single hair of yours out of place - keeping you out of this was out of the question.

He tells you this with a heavy heart, a somber expression, he lays himself bare but all you do is stare into him with the same artificially soft smile, just wide enough to satisfy the crowd (and satisfy him). There’s a silence, and no one says anything, not until -

“I wish you safe travels, and another successful gamble.” Your eyes do not change from the start to the end, even though your smile turns sad, even though you lean into him and take his hands in yours, even though you act like you care.

A bout of silence passes, and another, and another, and another -

“Would you bleed for me?” The words leave his lips before he can truly think them through, but he finds that there’s an aching curiosity in his heart for your answer. He thinks he already knows.

“Of course.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt in your voice. He hears your confidence, assuredness, feels your hands on his cheeks, yet he dares not look into your eyes. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

A beat of silence passes. The clock ticks.

“I love you.”

Nothing speaks anymore.

#lesgoo #ban ur on a roll 😈🙏 #the glimpses of insecurity is yummy #aventurine #yandere aventurine #yandere hsr #hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #yandere x reader

[lovesickloverboys]

a dream of nothing.

// Yandere Sunday

sum: Sunday is a good man.

a/n: likes & reblogs appreciated! asks are welcome ❤️

Penacony, the land of dreams; Penacony, the planet you’ve come to call home.

You’re not a native of this dreamland, and no matter how much you attempt to assimilate into the culture, you always feel like you’re standing on a completely different stage, miles away from Penacony. You haven’t been back to your home in a long time, but you haven’t been counting the days.

Everyone has been kind. They offer you help the second you look like you need it, unsolicited tips and advice when it comes to their mind. Everyone has tried their best to help you in the ways they know how, and you couldn’t be more grateful… So why is it that there’s a gaping hole in your chest, exactly where your heart is supposed to be?

Sunday married you out of love, a grand wedding held in your names in Blue Hour, a gorgeous ceremony taking place on the lovely Eventide boat, reception on the marvelous airship, the Radiant Felspar; it was certainly the event of the era. As fondly as you’d like to look back on those memories, you find yourself looking at them with an emotion you can’t quite describe.

It’s not happiness, nor is it anger. It’s neither sadness nor disgust, but something in between all of it? It’s not indifference either, because whatever you feel is strong, but not so strong that you’ve felt an urge to act upon it. No, whatever it is that you’re feeling, is worse than all of those emotions combined - precisely because you don’t know what you’re feeling.

These feelings taint your every thought, and as much as you would like to do anything else, you don’t quite know your way around the mansion. It’s up to Sunday or one of the Bloodhounds to take you to the library or the dining hall, and it’s up to them to bring you back to the room. You’re only afforded the outside when it is Sunday who graciously brings you to it, but never when you request for it.

How long has it been since you’ve been in Penacony? No one tells you anything, not even the flowers. They stay the same, frozen in time, forever in the state of blooming but never rotting, forever beautiful but never loved. No one cares for things until they are gone, and if something never leaves, then no one really has to care.

Sunday is a good man. You think so, at least. He has some peculiar traits, but everyone has something about them that makes them unique. He has never made you doubt his love for you, and he has done nothing but love you faithfully. He’s happy to tell you vague details about his work, of course much of it confidential due to their political nature, and he always enjoys listening to you speak about yours, no matter how mundane and uninteresting it is to you.

Sunday likes hearing your voice, you think. You hope so. He never lets you sleep without saying an “I love you”, and he never leaves without an “I love you” from you. Surely that means something, right?

“Darling, what’s got you worked up? Your face is scrunching up the same way it always does when you start to think.” Sunday snaps you out of your train of thoughts, a gloved hand tilting your chin up for your eyes to look at him. He has a gentle smile on his face as he always does, his wings fluttering and his golden halo gleaming.

“A-ah, Sunday, it wasn’t anything really!” You reply in a bit of a daze, still reeling from his sudden appearance.

“I hope so. You have nothing to worry about here, so there’s no need to think so hard. If you have any troubles, you know I’m always here.” His right hand slides down from your chin to your left hand, and before you know it he has forced you to stand and twirl, leading you right into his arms. With fondness in his eyes, he closed the distance between your lips, a kiss so enchanting you’re not quite sure what it was you were thinking about before.

You feel the heat on your cheeks as you part, suddenly too shy to look into his eyes. Sunday chuckles and it’s a pleasing sound, like a bell tinkling, and you think you could listen to it forever, held in his arms in this position, a moment after a kiss, a moment before another.

Instinctively, you lean in for another, eyes already half-lidded and arms around his neck, but your lips never meet their destination, a crash stopped by a buffer of wings. He smiles easily, a hand on your cheek as he leans down to whisper in your ear in an almost sinful manner - but never is it a sin, you think, not when it is Sunday.

He leads you to the dining hall, your hands intertwined, but you no longer feel at peace. There are voices that speak to you, forcing you to be their sole audience in their never-ending play of torment and despair. Sometimes… sometimes there are things staring at you, something with bright pink - purple? - eyes, and you start to think that those voices are real.

Something lurks in the corners of this mansion, and you think it’s out for you.

Sunday says otherwise, though. He looks concerned, but you don’t feel like the concern is directed to your worries specifically - no, it’s directed to you. Like there’s something wrong with you. And… and maybe he’s right. No normal person would hear these voices or feel eyes on them, no normal person would feel uneasy about the people around them, and no normal person would dislike the thought of a flower never dying. You, you other the other hand -

Sunday is always right, you’ve come to realize. And he’s right about you - you’ve known that for a long time now. You’re a silly girl who once thought the universe was your oyster when you could barely leave your own planet without hesitation and reluctance. You’re a silly girl who took the first opportunity you were given, ignorant of any repercussions that would shape your future - yet still jumped into the unknown with fear, when the first rule of survival is never let them smell your fear.

Now, now? You’re stuck in the predator’s maw… and it’s become the only place you feel safe in, in between layers of sharp and venomous teeth, living in between the unsaid threat of a dreamless sleep, living in between the safety of the threat of death.

You don’t like what lies outside your room. You don’t like the puzzles and tricks, and you don’t like the people. There’s… there’s something wrong… but there’s no one who will listen to you, and there’s no one you can trust. Can you even trust yourself?

Everything is a blur, and you can’t - don’t? - remember anything. Is this a self-defense mechanism, or the artful plan of someone? Walls are nothing but a splash of color, patterns sunk into nothingness, faces are all but the same, mashed into one. Individuality, singularity? Who even are you?

“Goodnight, my beloved.” Sunday says, and you feel something being draped over you. Your eyes blink rapidly, trying to make sense of your surroundings, but the fabric of silk gloves close them without hesitation.

“I love you.” The words that come out of your mouth don’t feel like your own.

“I love you too. Now, sleep.” The door opens and closes, and you’re left alone as you always are, in the safety of this room, awaiting sleep within a dream. What was it that you were thinking about, again?

Ah, that feeling. Yes, that feeling of not happiness but not sadness, not anger but not disgust, something in between but not indifference… Perhaps numbness or nothing is the closest you’ll get. What’s the point in trying to figure it out? It’s not important.

Is there even a “night” in the land of dreams?

#KEEP COOKING BAN #this is delicious #schizo reader lesgoo #sunday can imprison me with his love any day 😈🙏 #sunday #honkai star rail #sunday x reader #yandere #yandere sunday #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail

[lovesickloverboys]

bruh i wrote this on a whim. but it needs to be said.

tw: manipulation, yandere. Nothing too much. It’s pretty mild, but it’s dazai so idk what to say. 

bruh if this flops im gonna actually cry tho. I actually used my brain to write this. even tho I used causual language and this ain’t that formal ughsdfhlkdsj. but also sorry if it’s really bad. I didn’t even proofread this I just copy and pasted it into tumblr. Also, if the ending’s kinda messy or if there’s like grammar mistakes… pls tell me I literally am so braindead rn i can’t read

would also tag people this was inspired by but this is actually half shitpost and that would be hella rude of me to do that so. lmfao. (translate: i don’t have the balls)

===

I see so many people thinking that Dazai would fall for someone cheerful, and bubbly, who would approach him first.

Honestly, I disagree.

I think the opposite. Maybe it’s because I see part of myself in Dazai (and Yozo from the No Longer Human), or maybe because it’s simply because I’m not a bubbly, happy, person in general (but i wanna be with him jkjk unless… ) but. I personally disagree with that headcannon, I don’t really see it happening. Obviously, there are cases of characters liking an innocent, sweet, bubbly darling (cough. Nikolai. Chuuya. Akutagawa. Atsushi.) But, for Dazai… I feel like that would be too boring for him. Not as in he wouldn’t like it that way… but it would be too easy for him, ya know? Like there’s no challenge, there’s no… interest in doing that. Why would Dazai want someone so open, so innocent, so bubbly and kind, who would listen to anything he said? That’s not even genuine, that’s fake. Everyone has their own secrets, their lies, and they create a fake mask for everyone else to see. They wouldn’t want to show their true self… because it’d make them not only look bad… but also we’d all be extremely vulnerable. And violent.

Dazai knows this better than anyone else. I’d like to think, anyways. And innocent people like that, whether genuine or not, usually would deter him because they’re… too easy to pursue. Despite being a good liar himself, I don’t think he’d want someone who would fake the niceness, because it would be obvious from the start. Dazai doesn’t strike me as someone who would enjoy breaking his darling down (that’s Fyodor’s thing bro would definitely like someone who is fake). He has some morality, he doesn’t like using mind break. After all, that goes against what Oda told him to do. However, he’d definitely enjoy mind games, he’d like to pick you apart to get to know you better. Better than you know yourself. And once he does, he can leverage you however he likes to be his ideal woman. Even that manga q and a (I’lll find the link later) said that Dazai likes all women because he can make them into what he wants. Someone who’s outright innocent and kind wouldn’t be able to achieve that effect for him. It doesn’t offer him the challenge, it doesn’t offer him any kind of challenge in just manipulating someone innocent who barely hides anything. That would be a bad thing, and even his skwered sense of whatever morals he has would disagree with it. He wouldn’t even be able to fall for someone like that. Simple-minded people, just aren’t for him.

So, in prose, I’d like to offer an alternate idea: Dazai would like a darling that’s, obviously to a similar intelligence as him (otherwise they’d be… too easy), but very distant. Not as in a “they have a mask on”, kind of way. But in a. They’re apathetic, cold, and aren’t great at communicating kind of way. I think it’s an interesting dynamic. The first time when Dazai sees them, he may not even think much of them. Neutral cold face doesn’t say many sentences and wants him to leave. Maybe a slight fear of him, that he approached them. However, as time passes by, Dazai realizes he likes them. He genuinely craves their presence. He notices the way you don’t exactly know what his motives are, he enjoys the way you flinch when he touches your hands, or blush and do not know how to respond to his comments.

He sees all of it. And he wants to see who you really are. Behind your true mask. Maybe you’re a narcissist. Maybe you’re just a kind innocent person. Or maybe… you’re just as empty and lonely as he is. Whatever you are, he’ll eventually turn you into what he wants. It’s just a matter of time.

It’s like he’s looking at a Christmas present, and trying to guess the contents inside. The curiosity kills him. He wants to look at what it is now, but he can’t. He can’t. Until it’s Christmas day. So in the meantime, he’ll do everything except pull down the thin wrapping paper, and the apathetic, cold face you put on for everyone around you. It’s rather difficult actually, you do a pretty good job at covering your true self. You’re a skilled liar, you can control any physical reactions you have towards his questions.

But that just makes it all the more addictive.

The second you slip up, even just for a tiny. Little. Bit. Dazai is able to pinpoint a lot about you. It’s almost like he tore off a corner of the wrapping paper on his present, and he’s knows a lot about what it is. It’s more than he expected. It was just one facial expression. A face of shock, to anger, and then you calm yourself to the best of your abilities again. It’s barely noticeable to the average person. But that’s the thing. Dazai isn’t average. 

He’s the smartest man you’ll ever know.

It makes you feel conflicted. And you’re aware this is probably where Dazai wants you to be. And it is. Dazai finally was able to make a dent on the thin walls inside your mind. The walls that separated your true self, from others. And he’d pick and tear down these walls continuously until he was able to see inside.

But for Dazai… it’s his Christmas day. Dazai felt like his efforts… his waiting, his long awaited efforts were finally rewarded. All it took was one little slip on your behalf, one tiny little tear, for the wrapping paper to completely fall off. And as it lays discarded on the floor, Dazai admires the gift. He admires you. Your mind is such a vulnerable place. Yet in its own way, it’s beautiful and fragile. He feels like he physically cannot tarnish it. Yet… you’re so much more different than he thought. 

You’re niether a kind person, nor a violent one. You’re not broken, you’re not depressed nor anxious nor scared. You’re not nearly what he idealizes so much, and you’re not some insane slave to your ideals. No… what was inside that box and wrapping paper all this time was similar to a piece of piece of glass. Plainly boring in its own way… yet beautiful if shaped in the right hands. 

You’re a blank slate. Sure, you have your own trauma, your own struggles, desires, and wishes but… he’ll still do as he wants to you. 

And you won’t have a single say in it. 

You’re a blank slate. A canvas waiting to be drawn on. And draw on you he will. 

He’ll admire you, he’ll protect you, he’ll… do anything and everything to make you love him. You’ll…. you’ll learn to love him.

And in return, you’ll be the only one who will see and understand his true self.

#this!!!!!! #i get why the sunshine puppy reader x mentally ill dark mob guy is popular cuz its a version of the classic beauty and the beast trope #but like a fucked up guy with an equally fucked up reader?? chef's kiss babyyy #i can also never relate to the bubbly reader archetype myself so i pretty much always consider the reader to be an oc lol #so its always nice to see a reader in whom i can see aspects of myself #thank you for writing this author <3 #reblog #wonderful works #yandere dazai x reader #yandere dazai #yandere bsd

[lovesickloverboys]

Trigger Warning! Yandere! Implied Non-Con! Forced Marriage! Forced Cultural Assimilation! Power Imbalance! Royalty AU!

Yandere Blue Lock | Yandere Michael Kaiser | 5.4k words | unedited

Michael Kaiser was arrogant, and surpassed all reason with his gall. As if it had not been your people who had fed and clothed his own when their ship sank near the coast of your island.

Provided them with shelter and welcomed them with open arms when they had nowhere to go in the vast ocean.

Whether it was gold or medicine, you wasted no expense to extend your generous hand towards them, ensuring your guests stayed comfortably while within the confines of your island.

Their culture was strange to you who had grown up in a matriarchy, surrounded by warriors and women admirable in both strength and intelligence. In fact, it was the opposite of your own. Men were the ones who held most of the power in their country, no wonder they looked so flabbergasted when there were no other men on the island beside themselves, surrounded by well built women tanned under the scorching sun, beyond anything they were used to as they had said many times.

They weren’t as bad as many stories told, they shared whatever was spared from the ocean on their ship, blankets, food that you had never come across and strange trinkets you still couldn’t fully understand.

Kaiser was strange even when you first met him, commanding those around him so naturally unlike you who was egalitarian in the making. Treating everyone with equal consideration and respect. Conceit lining his every action, as if he looked down on all those that surrounded him.

Had it not been for them not having anywhere else to go, you wouldn’t have let them near your people, especially not when it was evident he looked down on you.

“Your ‘country’ is run solely by women?” He seemed almost indignant when presented with this information. Despite this, you still bid them farewell with a smile on your face and nothing but prayers of good fortune for the journey that lies ahead of them.

So imagine your surprise when you receive a letter, a threat, the familiar arrogance dripping from each sentence written in the paper. ‘Surrender or else.’ That was basically what he was saying, that bastard. Acting as if your people hadn’t done all they did for his own.

But yours was a country of warriors, you’d fight them even if it cost your lives.

Or so you had thought, but the enemy never came. Instead, your numbers fell from within, one after another, all those around you fell ill, weakened until they could barely stand. You had barely managed to contain the infection when he came, that coward.

“You don’t seem to be doing very well.” He taunted, grinning from ear to ear as he looked down on you.

“A country run by women… isolated from the world. I was wondering for how long that’d work out for you.” He said as he walked circling around you, as a hyena would to its prey. He spared a few glances towards your surroundings, examining the sickly state many, including you were in. A rather cruel idea came to mind as he looked into your eyes, that defiance, sheer hatred that lined them, he wondered if he could crush it, like taming a wild animal in a sense.

“You’ll all die at this rate, why not come with me? The old geezer’s been pestering me lately to get married and I think you'd do nicely [name]. What do you say?” Even as he suggested something as serious as marriage, he had a certain playfulness in his tone, as if he was just mocking you, waiting for you to say yes just to laugh in your face.

“Even at a time like this you seem to spare no opportunity to mock us.” You spat back at him, not having braced yourself for the bruising hold on your jaw he now had.

“I’m sorry, I think I should rephrase that, I made it sound like I almost gave you a choice.” And with that, he released your aching jaw and walked out, you could overhear him ordering one of the men that came with him and while you didn't understand their language, you could assume it had something to do with you.

….

While most of the girls were against it, they understood you had no choice unless they were willing to face off against those strange men in their current condition. So it was decided, in exchange for treatment and protection from other invaders with similar intentions to Kaiser’s, you’d go with him. It felt dehumanising, to be traded like livestock but you didn’t want to think of what would happen had you opposed the idea as vehemently as you planned to.

Instead you focused on what to do once you reached his home country, it was a long journey, turns out that his men had settled on the just a few days on boat away from your island. His true home country, the one you learnt he would rule over was much further, a climate noticeably colder and duller than what you were used to.

“I expect you to be on your best behaviour once we get there, we wouldn’t want them to think you’re an uneducated savage, would we?” You despised how he spoke to you, slower, in a simpler way and overwhelmingly patronising, as one would to a child.

“I’m aware.” You replied.

He made you learn his country's language during the journey, so while he read government papers and complex books, he forced you to read children’s books out loud. Laughing at how you’d pronounce certain words, chuckle as you tried your best to differentiate between one sound and another and ensure you were thoroughly embarrassed before explaining anything you didn't understand.

He let you wear your own clothes at least, but even this, he assured, was only until you reached land, until he could have a tailor skilled enough to make something befitting of his future wife.

You couldn’t help but curse him under your breath every single day, pray he’d come down with sickness or fall overboard, pray he’d die, a slow painful death. But even this had to be done in secrecy, not because of how ill you wished him but because he forbade anything that held any semblance to your culture.

It was foolish to think he’d lose interest once you returned to his homeland, surrounded by enough women and shiny things to forget about you, men were fickle, or so the older women always told you. But not Kaiser to your dismay, instead he seemed even more invested in finding ways to make your life more difficult, from dance instructors to history and politics. Each day felt daunting as you missed your small island home, wanting for nothing more than to return to your home and your true family.

With what little you spoke of their language you could tell you weren’t the most welcome of guests, the maids’ glances towards you weren’t exactly overflowing in kindness and the older men that visited Kaiser seemed equally troubled by your presence.

“Who would dare say anything to my kaiserin.” There it was, the new nickname he had picked for you among a myriad of others, some more insulting than others. Not that Kaiser cared, he seemed to pay no mind to what you thought. Instead he seemed to be much more focused on your untouched plate.

“You’re not eating. I can’t have you looking like a corpse at our wedding, darling.” You just continued to stare down at your plate, its contents didn’t seem fit to be called food to you, not with how tasteless they were, even prisoners ate better in your homeland. You furrowed your brows as you took a bite, trying to chew as little as possible as to not taste any of it.

“I’m sure you’ve been taught better table manners than that, dear.” You didn’t like the way he looked at you, it’s as if he was looking at something lesser than him, lesser than human in his eyes.

“The food…I don’t like how it tastes.” You muttered under your breath in what little German you spoke.

“I suppose it’ll take time to develop an appreciation for high class food, I understand, especially after you’ve been eating garbage most of your life. No wonder you were so weak back then.” He never seemed to miss a chance to insult your culture. You were sure whatever garbage you had eaten before was much more filling than these scraps.

…

You had always enjoyed running around freely in the past, taking in the beauty of nature, but here, it would be rare to find any nature at all among the concrete jungle. And whatever little greenery there was was hidden by the accursed weather. Dull and gloomy, much like the country itself.

And god forbid your handmaidens let you out without hiding you among layers over layers of fabric, weighing you down just enough to make sure you would tire yourself out to not suggest going out for another few days.

But even that seems like a privilege to you now as you look out the large window in your room. He had come to visit earlier, drunk— clearly as seen from the pink in his cheeks and the unmistakable stench of alcohol coming from him.

“You’ll look so nice in a wedding dress, my precious kaiserin. I can’t wait to see you in white.” He said as he got closer than you’d have allowed, draping his arms around you as he sunk into the crook of your neck. You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose as he took in your scent. For an emperor as great as he claimed he was, he seemed to act a bit too depraved.

That’s when he went for it, tried to remove your dress. Your heartbeat racing as a mix of anxiety and dread overflowed from your thoughts as they clouded your judgement. In the midst of the moment, you shoved him away, ending in him being pushed onto your bed while you were now on the floor.

“What…?” He seemed angry, really, really angry. You didn't want to know what he would do so you just spewed whatever came to mind in hopes of something convincing enough to at least reduce whatever punishment he would give you now.

“The… The wedding! You have to wait. We should only do this after marriage. That’s what the priest said, we cannot do this unless we’re husband and wife!” You exclaimed as Kaiser simply looked at you, now having regained his composure.

You hoped this would buy you some time, at least enough to think of a way out without endangering the lives of your people. Your wedding was still a few months away, this would be enough time to do whatever was necessary.

Or so you had thought.

“Your highness, we cannot allow you to go out like this! Please understand, we’re under strict orders from the emperor. You must focus on your bridal studies. The tailor will also be coming today with the finalised dress.” The maid said, or rather pleased, she didn’t look any more pleased with the current arrangements as you were. That bastard, he moved your wedding from a few months to just weeks away after that. No wonder he had been so quiet lately. Everyone had begged that he rethink it but he paid them no mind, simply ordering that they prepare everything by the end of the month, sending everyone inside and outside the palace into a frenzy.

He didn’t forget to reprimand you for pushing him away either, forbidding anyone from allowing you outside the walls unless he himself allows it himself. Leaving you confined to your room most of the time, preparing for your wedding. Your stomach dropped at the mere thought of it.

…

Despite what he made you think, Kaiser was just as busy with wedding preparations as you were. Only the most grand event would be worthy of him and his precious wife. You used to be so aggressive when you first came, refusing to speak the language, firing insults at him every time he spoke. He found it adorable how you stuttered this time around. He did have to punish you for pushing him away, that was unacceptable, but the way you tried to reason with him, that desperate look in your eyes made him want to devour you right then and there.

It was rewarding to see the fruit of his labour.

It brought a smile to his face just to think about you.

“Have you heard? Apparently the empress is so beautiful that the emperor keeps her in a separate palace, he doesn’t allow any male servants near her so they aren’t seduced by your beauty.” A younger man, probably the son of a noble, seeing as how ignorant he was, said. The other men around him simply added more fuel to the fire as they continued to gossip amongst themselves.

The male couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle. Would they have said the same thing had they seen you as you were back in your little island? Ragged and sickly, so ready to jump anyone that came too close to you as a string of curse words left your mouth. So unladylike, he was sure they wouldn’t.

None of them would have seen your potential like you did, he was the one who polished you into the gem that you were today so it’s only right he’s the only one to enjoy the benefits of it.

He’ll have to make sure you don’t have to interact with these scum too much during the wedding, Kaiser thought as he held himself back from ripping their tongues out right then and there, there were better, quieter ways to deal with people like that. No point in causing a commotion, especially when your wedding was so close, when you would finally have to resign yourself to your fate, sealed in his hands and his alone.

“Your highness please keep your arms up so that the tailor can fit the dress.” One of the maids said as a few others rustled around you, trying to fit the dress on you, ensure that it was safely fastened so as to avoid any accidents during your actual wedding.

“I hope you don't mind me intruding on your fitting session, my precious kaiserin.” Kaiser said as he invited himself in, his eyes set on you and the dress that just made you all the more alluring. Jewels that were worn by women of his family for centuries before this splayed all around the room as the maids tried to agree on the most fitting one and a dress made by the most prestigious tailor in the continent, all to represent his country, the mother of his nation.

…

The servants had all long gone now, leaving you alone with Kaiser. They giggled amongst themselves as they left, you had heard many talk about the lovely relationship between you two, oh how you wished to deny it all.

“You didn’t have to come.” You said, still insistent on avoiding eye contact with Kaiser.

“I can’t help but notice darling, you never seem to say my name. We’re to be wed soon, wouldn’t it be better for you to refer to your husband-to-be by his name?” You couldn’t understand why he seemed so intent in closing the distance between you two, as if to keep you from running off— not that there were any places where you could seek shelter from him and his overbearing presence.

Discomfort was evident in you as you tried to pry him away. It’d be hard to believe that you were the same person capable of taking out his men with relative ease. Kaiser, however, paid it no mind, instead leaning in closer as he took a hold of your chin, barely any distance left between you two, your breath hitching as you tried your best to divert the topic on to anything else.

“Come now, how hard can it be to say Michael, you’ve pronounced harder words darling, this should be easy for you.” He said leaning in even more. His lips practically on yours at this point, your efforts to pull away being left in vain as you hit the back of the sofa you were on.

“Michael, I said it, now please stop this!” You pleaded, but it would be difficult to reason with him now. Something about the way you said his name just felt so attractive to him. Maybe it was your accent, despite your best attempts, it was still hard to conceal it.

“Say it again.”

“W..what?” He looked like he was in a trance, no sign of his usual shit eating grin, a blank expression on his face as he stared back into your eyes, waiting for the words to leave your mouth.

“Michael.” You knitted your brows as your cheeks went red from embarrassment. It felt strange, demeaning almost. As if he were watching a child say its first words.

“Again.” Was he serious? You thought to yourself.

…

Hate Kaiser as you will, at the moment, he was the only one that could allow you to go out so in some messed up way, you had started to look forward to his visits. And with only a few days until your wedding, you couldn’t help but grow anxious so as insufferable as he was, at least you could enjoy a breath of fresh air, away from the stuffy palace in his presence.

You couldn’t help but take in the scenery, the same that seemed so lacking compared to your homeland just a few months ago

“That dress you wore earlier today suits you well, darling.” He said, eyes still focused on the freshly bloomed flowers.

“I’m sure it did, seeing how they had to practically starve me so that I could fit in it.” Your German had improved a lot lately, you could even use complex sentences now, not as insistent on using your mother tongue as you used to be, it brought him pride every time he heard you speak it.

“Stuffing your face like an uncivilised beast would be unbecoming of a lady of your standing regardless of whether there is a dress to fit into or not, my dear.“ Some part of you was convinced he did this so you wouldn’t have the energy to escape.

“I wasn’t aware basic human needs had become uncivilised in your glorious empire.”

“You’ve been behaving well lately, it’s in your best interest to keep that up, darling.” It had been ages since you last acted up, Kaiser had thought he had crushed your rebellious spirit by now. He could forgive this, maybe it was just you getting antsy because of your wedding.

…

You’d received many congratulatory gifts before your wedding, most from people you had never before met. Foreign emissaries, nobles and others, all filled with congratulations and well wishes but you spared them no attention, instead focusing on the letter sent to you by your friends and family back home, your real home. During the time it took for the letter to get to you it was already quite dated but you still read it over and over again, written in your home tongue and filled with words of encouragement. Details you feared you had forgotten, people who you couldn’t picture in your head anymore but longed for each passing day. Kaiser didn’t allow letters most of the time, especially not when they were written in your home tongue, a reminder of your unruly past as he saw it.

This one was a wedding gift, a final goodbye to your friends and family before you became someone even you couldn’t recognize.

You read it over and over again. Tears formed in your eyes as you realised just how much you had forgotten, turning into a sobbing mess before you even realised.

“Had I known this is how you’d act, I'd have thought twice before giving you that letter.” There he was again, so eager to interrupt any thoughts of your home.

“I- I’m sorry.” You managed to say between sobs, trying to compose yourself before he said anything else, carefully tucking the letter away into your study drawer.

“May I write back to them?” You asked, practically pleaded considering the pathetic state you were in.

“We’ve talked about this before, dear. You know I dislike repeating myself.”

“Only once please—! I won’t ask again, Michael please just this once—!”

He seemed displeased with your request but instead of saying anything, he merely got up and approached your desk. However, to your surprise, he simply walked past you, instead kneeling in front of your drawers, taking the letter out and before you could react, he ripped it to shreds, right in front of you. Not even sparing the remains, opting to throw them into the lit fireplace, making sure they were burnt to a crisp before facing you again.

He took out a piece of paper from his pocket, leaving it on the desk.

“W-what’s this?” It was hard to talk to him after what he had just done, you wanted nothing more than to curse him.

“A list of names I’ve narrowed down, choose the one you like most by tonight, otherwise I’ll choose the one I like most.” He said nonchalantly.

“Names…? Why would you need me to choose a name?”

He merely looked at you disdained.

“You’ve not been baptised yet, I can’t be marrying a heretic, dear.”

“Is it really necessary to change my name though?”

He slammed his hand on your desk.

“You were behaving so well up until yesterday, so you seemed to have forgotten under whose jurisdiction that beloved island of yours is, my dear.” And with that, he stole a small kiss from your lips and left.

None of the names on the list felt pleasant to your tongue, they all sounded so foreign so Kaiser ended up choosing for you, he seemed happy to do so anyway. Things moved fast from there, in under a week so much had happened. Everyone around you seemed so overjoyed, everyone except you who was intent on ignoring your reality. Repeating over and over again the words you had read in that letter as a desperate attempt to remember your homeland. With even your name now replaced, nothing besides fickle memories was left but even those seemed to fade so fast.

…

Time moved fast when you were trying to hold on to it, hours turned into mere seconds. It became hard to grasp something so intangible as you walked down an aisle surrounded by strangers, in a building equally as unfamiliar.

Ironically, the only thing that wasn’t foreign was Kaiser, the man that had dragged you out so far across the map in the first place.

As the priest had you decide words you couldn’t fully comprehend and as hundreds of eyes peered onto you, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Seeking what little comfort there was in them.

“All hail his highness the kaiser and kaiserin. May god bless their reign!” The man exclaimed as a string of cheers echoed through the large chapel, flower petals gently falling as the light from the stained glass windows of all colours seeped through.

Your breath hitching all of a sudden as you felt Kaiser’s hand on your waist.

“Nothing will save you today my darling bride.” He whispered into your ear with his usual devilish grin, his eyes still facing the guests.

You dreaded what was to come, his mere presence brought shivers to your spine. How were you supposed to spend the rest of your life with a man like that?

In the large ballroom, one after another, the guests greeted you, paying respects, asking if you remember them and their wedding gifs, each trying to outdo the last. But even in all the commotion, with the music drowning the room in even more noise, even then, your mind could only dread what awaited you once the music stopped and you were guided away.

…

You could feel it, his heartbeat. The constant thumping, mechanical like a clockwork in a sense. It wasn’t as erratic as yours, fast paced yes but you were sure the wine he downed earlier had something to do with that.

Reflexively moving away as he tried to inch closer, only to be met with a bruising grip, one fully intent on keeping you in place.

“Not today, my kaiserin, no. Today, I’ll enjoy all you have to offer and so will you. All you have to do is be good.” He said, barely audible as he looked at you with something between drunken stupor and sheer lust. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, taking a moment to breathe in your scent before his teeth sink in, you let out a hiss, trying your best to push him away or to at least have him stop but to no avail.

He took your home, your name—identity and that night, he took your body as well, leaving you with nothing at all.

He took all you had to offer and in turn left you with child, his child.

You only found out months later, as the sickness seemed to become too much to excuse as just a cold or upset stomach. As your dresses became increasingly difficult to fit into. And as if to add insult to injury, the physician thought it to be more important to inform Kaiser before he did you.

As if it wasn’t you who would carry this child for months to come.

“You’re the mother of my empire and now of my child as well, my kaiserin. You’ve brought me nothing but joy.” He said as he brought you into an embrace as the physician left.

But while Kaiser spewed affirmations of love and joy, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Not when the first thought in your mind had been to compare his—your child to a parasite, like its father it would take and take from you.

Even beasts loved their kin, what a monster you had become to think that of your own child.

“Ahh.” You couldn’t help but wail. You didn’t want to bring such a child into the world, what a cruel mother you were. Uncontrollable sobs echoed through the room as you tried to cover your face, block out the man whose head up until mere moments ago laid on your lap, now looking at you with an unfamiliar expression of surprise. But it was quick to contort into something more akin to hurt and anger.

“…Why are you crying?” He whispered, the lack of his usual confidence and playfulness putting you off. His hands now firmly holding your face in place, leaving your tear stricken face with no choice but to face his.

“My first thought when I heard of the child…” You paused as more tears streamed down your face.

“I wished it’d die!” You exclaimed. “H-How can someone like me be a mother?”

“What have I become? What have you turned me into?!” You broke down once again, unable to see the sheer disgust in Kaiser’s expression, not until he forced your face up again.

“You’re carrying my child, the heir to my empire. You’d best act like it, my dear.” He scared you at times like these, when the familiar playfully hint in his eyes got replaced with a cruel look, one you would give your enemy, or someone you saw as less than human.

There was only one thing you hated more than that, it was when he acted like nothing happened the day after.

As he embraced you and his child, a smile wider than any you had seen before, acting as if you hadn't said what you did. As if you didn’t wilt away every day before your son's birth. He looked like him, like Kaiser. The same eyes, same hair, even his face held more semblance to him than you.

…

You sat in the shade, sheltered from the pathetic rays of sun if they could even be called that. Tea and other snacks set on the small table in front of you. Looking out the garden to see three young boys running around.

They laughed and chased after one and another, wooden swords and whatever the garden could provide turned into toys.

“I’m the emperor so I get to take all your land!” The eldest proclaimed.

“That’s not fair, you were emperor last time! This is my land, you can take Wilhelm land instead!” The youngest retorted, pointing towards his older brother.

“No! That’s not fair, you’re both cheating! Mother, tell them to stop, it’s my turn to be the hero!” Your second son, Wilhelm said, insisting you tell the other two off for cheating.

An airy buckle leaving your lips as you looked at the small boys, little, all three of them holding little if any resemblance to you.

“You two all got your turns, let’s let Wilhelm be emperor today, hmm?” The boys both let out a whine before they resumed their game, still equally as loud as before.

It was hard to face your children at times when you were reminded of when you first found out about your pregnancy. But you’ve learnt to bury those memories now. Between official duties and your children, there was little time for such thoughts in your day. Perhaps that was why you had forgotten all else.

You used to have a home but you remembered nothing of it, not what it looked like nor where you lived, maybe, if you tried really hard, you could recall its name.

There used to be people in your life before Kaiser but now, even if they were in front of you you doubted you would recognize them. It’s hard to hold onto memories when they’re so fleeting regardless of how hard you try. Not when even recalling them is an offence worth punishing in your husband’s eyes.

“Father!” Speak of the devil. The children screamed in unison, running towards Kaiser who had already opened his arms, welcoming them all for a hug.

They looked so innocent, unaware of the true nature of their father. Of course they would be when he stopped you from teaching them a single word in your home tongue, to utter a single word of your past would not be easily forgiven.

“My, if it isn’t my little princes.” He said between chuckles as the children tried to tackle him to the ground.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Mother is over there!” The youngest said, pointing his finger towards you. Kaiser giving you his classic grin. Taking the two youngest boys by the hand as he walked towards you.

As they walked side by side it was easier than ever to tell how much they resemble their father. Everything, from how they looked to even their names was foreign to you.

A chaste kiss on the cheek waking you from your trance as you looked behind you to find your husband and children, all smiling and laughing amongst themselves,

“What were you thinking to be so deep in thought?” He asked, receiving a simple ‘Nothing much.’ As a reply, interrupted by one of the children who seemed eager to jump on your lap and reach for sweets from the small table.

You doubt you’ll ever come to accept this life as your own, you’ll forever look into the mirror and try to recognize the stranger that you had become. But there was no home to return now, Kaiser had made sure of that, tearing it apart piece by piece, no people left on what was once your entire world, not when they all left for better opportunities to neighbouring countries. Nor did you have any pride, not when he tore it apart bit by bit.

Now you could only hope to be content, to one day entirely forget what you had known. To forget the pain or forgetting and to truly live in the present. Even if it’s with the man responsible for putting you through such pain.

Masterlist

#!!!!! #IM SO PROUD OF U BESTIE #this is a full course dinner God bless #kaiser my fav white man besides childe #yandere blue lock #yandere kaiser #yandere michael kaiser #blue lock #yandere #michael kaiser #wonderful works

[lovesickloverboys]

You're not the only sick one.

Yandere! Kamisato Ayato x Yandere! Fem Reader

Simply processing the fact that presently, the Yashiro Commissioner, the Lord Kamisato Ayato, had his much wanted attention solely focused on you was overwhelming. You would like to claim it was more than pleasant to have this most hidden desire come true, but it wasn't, for his calm, beguiling gaze seemed to see more than you were willing to expose--namely, the rotting ugliness hidden beneath layers of carefully constructed quirks and facets that made up a socially acceptable persona. Or was that simply your guilt making you paranoid?

Regardless, the end result was the same--it spiked up the speed at which your treacherous heart beat, and heat to pool under your cheeks, causing your hand to twitch--if only you could whip out your favorite fan and hide your face at this very moment. Alas, you decided that in order to make genuine changes in yourself, like your mother besieged you to, you must face certain things head on. Especially when you were trying to make things right. So you steeled yourself and took a deep breath before you began.

"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me like this, Lord Kamisato," the said man graciously waved away the perfunctory greeting as he took a sip of some tea, "...I'll be straightforward about this." The commissioner once again met your gaze, curiosity swimming freely in his current expression.

"I am here to... sincerely apologize for my unbecoming actions for the past few months. They were undoubtedly inappropriate no matter how one sees it. The... um, I-" you stumbled over your much practiced words, voice dying as you eventually decided to give up on the script entirely. "I... have surely caused you... a lot of trouble and distress, and if I could, I... I would undo it all but... all I can do now is apologize and put a stop to it. I can only hope that you will forgive me in due time."

The Kamisato head watched you with his ever steady gaze, face neutral as he seemed to consider your words, before finally opening his mouth, an amused smile gracing his countenance.

"Is this about... all those gifts you sent, lady (L/n)?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times like a fish out of water, cheeks warming up further. It was surprising that he actually had knowledge about them. It would have made more sense for the estate's servants to simply chuck them in the rubbish as soon as they were delivered instead.

"...Yes. That and-" you began, fiddling with the fabric of your sleeve as you looked down in shame.

"Ah, I suppose I forgot to inform my aide to return a letter of appreciation, how careless of me. I do apologize," Ayato cuts you off, "I am particularly fond of the fountain pen, I use it for signatures, in fact. Thank you for all of your thoughtful gifts, I really do appreciate them." His eyes seemed to twinkle mischievously as he took another sip of tea.

You gulped. This new revelation was doing a number to your psyche. You couldn't help but begin to despair--after all, it was all a little too late now. A nervous laugh escaped you as you struggled to come up with an appropriate response.

"Um, haha, I see..."

After a dreadful pause he finally enquired, eyes watching you carefully: "I presume you hold some form of... affection for me, Miss (L/n)?"

The heat beneath your face rose up by a few more degrees. 'Affection'... did not wholly capture what you felt for this man, really. It was closer to an all-consuming obsession instead, one that started from an innocuous interaction, and one that threatened to drown you in its ocean of lovesickness.

"Umm... yes. Although I am now aware that it isn't remotely healthy by any means. Thanks to my dear mother, I have come to realize I am quite... sick in the head. I promise I won't bother you anymore and I will properly deal with it, so please do not worry. In fact, I will soon be leaving Inazuma for an extended period to recuperate. I just wanted to properly apologize before I left." You bit your tongue, feeling like you over-shared as soon as you finished. Carefully, you looked up at him.

The young lord's lovely lilac eyes widened in what you could only read as surprise at your confession.

"Oh my," he finally said, breathing out, looking almost... disappointed? "How sad."

You looked at him in confusion upon the unexpected response. Noticing your knit brows and questioning eyes, Ayato graciously continued.

"If I may ask, who has you so convinced that what you... feel is not genuine adoration for another, but something twisted instead? You did not do anything to harm me, have you, now? All I see is that you are simply experiencing love, the purest thing in the world."

Your confusion increased by a hundred fold.

"But I... Lord Kamisato I even stalked you... how is that anything normal-"

Ayato let out an amused scoff.

"You think I didn't know that? I personally found it quite adorable, so I let you be."

Your mouth practically hung open as you struggled to keep up with the head spinning turns this conversation was taking.

"So... I presume you didn't mind it...?"

"Heh, what can I say," a fox-like smile touched his lips, "I don't mind the attention. I prize devotion and loyalty above all else, and you seem to deliver it in spades."

Your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat in anticipation. So was it all just a test you weren't aware of taking part in...? Did he simply wish to see for how long you'd stick to it by ignoring you so much? You had grown so desperate to make him see your way for months on end, sending little trinkets and anything you thought he'd find useful, lingering in the places he frequented, even trying out unusual recipes so you'd have something in common, but his lack of response convinced you he wasn't even aware of your existence... But he is a Kamisato after all, maybe this was their way of filtering the worthy from the unworthy?

But wouldn't you giving up now meant that you already failed? Your mood is dealt a devastating blow at the consideration.

ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉˡᵘˢⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ, a small voice from somewhere whispered to you, ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᶜᵏ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ! ˢᵗᵒᵖ ⁱᵗ!

Ayato watched on as you grappled with your inner turmoil, shrewd eyes studying you before coming to conclusions beyond your reach.

"I'll... have a talk with your mother. If I remember correctly, Mrs (L/n) was an old friend of my late mother after all, so it is only appropriate I express my gratitude and appreciation to a family friend. And regarding you, I'm... quite sure she'll understand my point of view," Ayato finished, a knowing smile lighting up his face.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #genshin scenarios #yandere genshin x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere ayato #yandere ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #yancore #yandere x you #yandere reader

[lovesickloverboys]

Part 5 of our : Kimetsu Boys Serie/ Gyuu

Haia... AS I SAID BEFORE SO IT'S GONNA BE ALMOST ALL THE BOYS IN KIMETSU.

TEAM KAGAYA ( ALL THE MALES HASHIRASKyojuro/Uzui/Gyomei/Obanai/Gyuu/Sanemi/Muichrirou/Kagaya/ Yoriichi/Sabito/Haganezuka/ Shinjuro)

TEAM MUZAN (ALMOST ALL THE MALESMuzan/Kokushibou and as Mitkatsu /Akaza/Douma/Yushiro/Adult Rui)

THE BOYS ( Tanjiro/Zenitsu/Inosuke/Genya)

🛡 In this context none of the characters are married or minors all of them are adults.

WARNING: ⚠️  THIS IS A YANDERE SO YOU CAN SEE DARK THEMES

Links:

1 Kyojuro/ 2 Tanjiro / 3 Obanai / 4 Inosuke / 5 Gyuu (This one)

Part 6 Uzui /Part 7 Yoriichi / Part 8 Akaza /

Part 9 Kokushibou / Part 10 Michikatsu /Part 11 Kagaya

YANDERE TOMIOKA GIYUU 🌊⚔

 He was always in return from the most difficult missions where you were coincidentally.  And it was always the same…Gyuu, Always indifferently and expressionlessly, sitting, while you occasionally, when it was your turn at work, were doing the treatments.  But as time passed, the indifference apparent in Gyuu's beautiful sapphire eyes, was just a mere superficiality... Why?...

Because unlike all the support staff who sometimes used these occasions to "take revenge" on the hashiras, as they felt that some of them acted arrogantly, you with the softest touch possible and care, by wrapping arms, chest with bandages, a sweet memory was been building in Gyuu's memory little by little. It's time…

"- Tomioka-San, excuse me, I need to press here." 

He never responded, but the tips of your fingers, checking the tightness of the bandage, were like sweet caresses, smooth, light, taking away all the heavness of his worst missions. 

Gyuu's skin crawled, he wasn't that used to the human touch that much, just at the fights. But not with someone who has the intention to heal him.

The occasion when Gyuu starts to let himself be invaded by your essence, it was when after an attack from behind,  was necessary to give the sutures. 

He was bleeding and didn't want to be helped by anyone,  but you.  He sat in front of the butterfly mansion while being reprimanded by several of the professionals who saw him sitting bleeding, but Gyuu remained where he was as the drops of blood soaked his kimono, but when he saw you enter he stood up.  Everyone notices Gyuu's gaze directed at you, as seeing him bleed, you feel scared. 

"-Tomioka-San, why aren't you receiving treatment?" 

He in his few words responds.  "- Come on, it's your turn." 

Everyone is looking now, understanding that he was waiting with his choosing one, you.  You quickly put him on the stretcher sitting, and put the IV in, to replace the excess fluid lost.  You're confused, but you're focused on your work.  It is oblivious to Tomioka's careful observation.  Wherever your hands go, there's Gyuu's gaze, or on your face that he starts to watch more carefully. 

Your eyes, eyebrows, lips... But... Now, you're behind him. 

The atmosphere is silent, it's just the two of you in the place. 

You proceed to sew Gyuu's skin.  Whispering.  "- This is going to hurt a little Tomioka-San, forgive me." 

Its sweet tone, or light support of your warm hands on his back, well…He doesn't know, but for sure it's like the most powerful of anesthetics.  He occasionally feels your breath on his back, by your careful DIY…The breathing that comes out of you, it's warm and comforting on his skin.  Gyuu knowing you're not watching, closes his eyes to take it all in as he feels your touch, Gyuu begins to realize he's been "careless" often needing special care, but actually YOUR care... 

Now that you've finished the stitches, it's time to clean up.  With the cotton soaked in antiseptic you glide over Tomioka's back, Gyuu's skin and muscles are a beautiful sight to behold, you find yourself daydreaming about it.  You do it slowly and so lightly that Gyuu, shiver all over... Slowly, calmly, peacefully…

"Ah, the touch, when was the last time?  The softness."  And without words you can feel subliminal affection between you. 

Your steps are directed to get the bandages, Gyuu has a certain favoritism for this part.  That's when you wrap him around the bands as if hugging him. 

Before starting, now staring into Gyuu's serious eyes, you smile, as if asking for permission.

  He doesn't change his expression at all, but because he remains as he is, you keep going. 

You are not aware, but inside Tomioka,  there is a raging sea.  With the passing of moments, he finds himself in need of having it…it is so pleasurable, welcoming.  It's opposite to the pain that once inhabited Gyuu's chest. 

Your smile scared away many ghosts that Gyuu carried.  What did he find in you?  Acceptance? When is he at his weakest?  There is no judgment by your side, only comfort and peace. " You are like a medicine, no… Actually,  you are THE medicine that Gyuu needs."  The pain dissipates by your side, he can remain who he is, Tomioka Gyuu and still receive human warmth care, even if it's from your way to breath on his back.

While his thoughts are messing around, you finish and you are withdrawing the serum. "- Tomioka-San, this medication is for the pain."

  He doesn't have to, but anything that comes from you is acceptable and desirable.  "- You need to rest now Tomioka-San." You say, adjusting the pillows and sheets to him.  You gently press him by the shoulders to lie him down, Gyuu offers no resistance.  He would rather go home, but that's not the case this time. 

Everything is quiet, no new patients arrive to attend.  You then sit in the corner near the window in front of Gyuu's bed, grab a seat and a lamp, and start reading your book.  As a rule, you make yourself entirely available to the hashiras when they need treatment. 

The light sometimes varies, which causes Gyuu's hear beats to vary as well, as he watches your face while you're reading.

After a while, remembering your patient, you lift your eyes.  "- Tomioka-San, anything you need just tell me, please."

  "- I am fine." 

"- Oh I forgot, let me check your temperature."  You say marking your book and placing it near the lamp. 

"- It is not necessary."  Speak Gyuu formally. 

"- It's just a moment Tomioka-San, I won't bother you too long."  Said you, smiling kindly. 

"Bother?"  The last word he would relate to you is "bother", Gyuu opens a door in his mind.  "- Who said that?" 

You with a surprised expression, ask.  "- Excuse me, but what did you said, Tomioka-San ?" 

With a serious tone he answers.  "- Who said that you bother me? Has anyone ever said that to you?" 

"- Oh, no, it's not that, it's just that I believe you just need rest and sometimes you don't want to be bothered. Nothing more."  You spoke as the back of your hand touches Gyuu's neck, making sure he wasn't feverish. 

To him it was a pleasure and a torture, your touch was a pill of the most powerful drug that he has ever taken.  He feels waves of energy rushing violently through his entire being… New thoughts cross his mind…YOU, oh you…No, no… you wouldn't be like Sabito or anyone else he wanted to protect, but lost it.  NO... not you.  Any pain was acceptable to him, but not to stay away from you, or anything that caused you pain.  That would now be unacceptable and unforgivable. Because now, you HAVE him. You won him. 

In this context your superior comes to the door and scolds you in front of Tomioka.  "- If you knew he just wanted to be treated by you, why haven't you been here before, don't you know he's a pillar?" 

Gyuu now has a murderous desire in his gaze.  "- Hey you."  He introduces himself into the conversation, before you even can explain yourself.  Your superior looking fearful at Gyuu says. 

" Yes, Tomioka-San?"

  Gyuu, pointing his finger in a threat warns.  "- Never talk to her like that again." 

Gyuu isn't given to arrogance, but if that means protecting whoever he wants, it's best that no one stand in the way. 

"- Y-Yes, Tomioka-San."  After this your superior leaves more than quickly. 

You worried says. "- It's okay Tomioka-San, he's just like that. Don't give importance to it." 

Gyuu stares at you for a while not satisfied.. You even try but it's impossible not to drown in the ocean in the water pillar's eyes.  You, seeking to return to the surface, turn to your place and your book. 

After a while you leave, Gyuu doesn't say anything but for the first time in a long time he feels agitated.  "What did you do to me."  Gyuu mind's torture him.  Since any feelings good or bad had all been dormant inside his chest.  But as soon as you come back with a porcelain bowl on a sophisticated tray to serve the dish to the pillars, Gyuu feels change his mood. The pleasant aroma fills the air it's helpful. 

"- Shall we eat Tomioka-San?"  You speak with an excited tone. 

He can't describe why your energy is so pleasing to him.  He nodes at you.  The tray is placed on the counter next to the bed.

  "- I'll help you to sit, come."  Once again, your angelic hands touch him with gently.  He gets carried away by you.  And sitting down he starts to eat.  Gyuu, in the company of someone he likes, is enjoying his favorite meal.  The wish is that this moment lasts forever.  "But... What if something happens to you?"  Gyuu's mouth is silent, but thoughts are noisy. 

In you, the things are not that calm too… The desire to be close to Gyuu increases every time you feel him in your arms.  Who feels comfortable in the silence next to him. 

"- Thank you, it was delicious."  He thanks you handing the bowl into your hands. 

"- I'm glad you liked it Tomioka-San."

  "- Gyuu." 

"-What?"

  "-You can call me Gyuu, and give me your name."

You are in an infighting, you are not allowed to address the pillars informally. And looking around making sure no one will see you say.

"- As you wish, Gyuu, my name is y/n."  Accompanied by a smile. 

For him to hear his name intimately, and the sound of your beautiful name, followed by a welcoming expression, was more brutal than any attack he had ever suffered. No oni had the power to hurt him as you. 

The days pass and Tomioka recovers.  He's safe now, and already dressed in his uniform, but it's your day off.  Gyuu feels the darkness invade him for your absence.  Until you make a surprise and arrive suddenly.  Without a uniform, you did your best, you were beautifully dressed, all made up to see him.  Seeing you like this just makes him feel destroyed than when he arrived from the last mission. 

"- I'm glad you recovered, Gyuu. Please be careful in your next missions. Don't get hurt."

  "- Don't get hurt? Have I been a burden to you, y/n?"  He asks with an integrated expression, no longer indifferent as before.

  "- Haha… No, no, Gyuu, I just, well, I just, actually.." As he looks at you, your face is visibly flushed.  "- I just worry about you, I don't want something bad to happen to you."  Gyuu has an expression never seen before by you or anyone else, it's a soft look, full of affection, your words went deeper than any katana could reach inside of him.

He is motivated.  "- Y/n, I don't have any mission for today, can I repay your kindness?" 

You bounce around inside, accepting the invitation.  As you're leaving, you pass by several team members who eye you suspiciously.  Your superior has a judgmental look on you.  Gyuu watching him raises his hands to the grip of his Nichirin, your superior realizing that Tomioka wasn't bluffing, he immediately withdraws.  But Gyuu made sure that all this went unnoticed for you.  You arrive at a small restaurant where Gyuu usually eats.  You are smiling and happy.  He gazes at you as if he were admiring a painting of the Mona Lisa for the first time. 

You are chatting.  "- Am I talking too much, Gyuu? I know you have a quiet nature but I don't know if I should continue."  "- Talk as much as you want. Your voice is pleasant, I want to listen." 

Your reaction is the opposite, he shut up your words.  Gyuu has his hands on the table.

  You look at them and run your fingertips over some of the scars.  "- I remember this one."

  Your touch makes the water pillar condense the entire ocean itself and consume itself and turn him into burning flames.  As you were drawing the lines over Gyuu's scars, he held your hand, interrupting your artistic sketch, giving you a message, by means of a firm grip but not that strong to hurt you, but stop at the small force employed, you know he feels the same as you.  Your heart races, Gyuu realizing your emotions too, doesn't want to, won't have the luxury of losing you, and turning his other hand he calls out to your another one, which was not yet imprisoned.  You guide your free hand towards him, and with your hands together, Gyuu looking into your eyes, squeezes them again.  All you can say is his name in a low voice.  He listened.

Wordless feelings were confessed…You both get interrupted by the waiter, so finally the order is consumed.  And after the delicious meal, Gyuu accompanies you.  In front of your door he doesn't say goodbye, Gyuu is like a guardian clearly wanting more.  But...he's not the only one.  You open your door, and taking him by the hand leads him inside.  Once you close the door, you look at each other.  Gyuu's eyes are something you never get tired of looking at.  Holding his face that he leans towards you, your lips come together, Gyuu in a thirsty way, hugs you tightly, the strength of someone who never wants to lose someone again.  It doesn't matter what he needs to do. 

You have all day, after so many kisses and hugs, you are cuddled together on your futon.  Gyuu has his face caressed by you. With his eyes closed. Even like this he finds your hand and kisses it and turning now the beautiful wide blue towards you, he expresses wanting to make you all his.  You both turn to hands and arms, kisses and hugs. 

From this day forward you are always together.  In your work, many want to know more about it, but like Gyuu, you choose silence.  He is always one step ahead of anything you do even It's a week full of missions, but during some difficult ones, Gyuu barely has time to see you.  He hates it.  But finally he was able to meet you at work. 

You were found by Gyuu at work, taking a totally unnecessary scolding from your superior.

On Gyuu's accounts this was just too much... 

The following week, when you arrive for your shift, many are in shock, saying that they don't understand how this happened. As you ask to your coworkers the answer put your hands over your mouth. Your superior was found quartered in so many pieces that it was practically impossible to recognize him...

  We can say that Gyuu is not a Yandere of words.  but of actions… I fear for who gets in your way...

.

.

.

Tag list:

@kiwinfinity @cherryblossomsenpai @madamxrose

#this was so nice to read ahhhhh #i love him sm 🥺 #hes so lowkey i nearly forgot he was a yan fr #wonderful works #reblog #yandere demon slayer #yandere giyuu

[lovesickloverboys]

Credit

An Automaton AU ft. Azul

Automaton Au by @jackplushie !!

I hope I’ve done some justice to all the amazing writers I’ve seen writing this au. Enjoy and thank you for reading! <3

—————————————————

“Oh wow- Your files are so well organized!” A fellow scavenger friend of yours came over to hang out and talk about your recent finds.

“Everything is in a specific place and labeled too! Blueprints, notes, maps and diagrams, even costs of machinery!”

You had shut down your automatons for the day so they wouldn’t cause a ruckus, after all yours were known to be a bit... unpredictable around other people.

“Hm? Oh- nah none of that was me. Azul, organized those stuff. Like all of it. He’s incredibly skilled.” You shrugged honestly, smiling to yourself as you remembered jolting awake at night, only to see Azul copying all your papers and placing them in neat folders despite you never asking for it. “He works pretty hard.”

“Azul?... Oh- oh your bot? You give credit to your bots..?”

“I mean- yeah? I didn’t do any of it after all.”

Your friend hummed. “I guess that makes sense. Sorry I’m just so used to people taking full credit of what their bot did.”

You shook your head irritably. “Credit should be given where credit is due.” You both made soft conversation as an onlooker gazed at you in shock. Not that it showed on his face. After all. He was supposed to be completely shut down.

Azul often scoffed at his masters, those who believed they had any power over him and took the credit for his hard work. Once information was handed over, Azul was the one in control now. Despite this, he is still just a bot. Humans had created many failsafes in case of malfunctions and to think with a mind of your own as an automaton made to serve, was definitely considered a malfunction.

Everything would be wiped and taken away from him and like trash, he was thrown aside. He would never feel that stability of power again.

Until you came along. Eyes shining, you were perfect for him. Easy to manipulate, naive and excited over every little thing you found rotting in abandonment within the dump outside your home. You were his savior, his client. His victim.

But he had learned his lesson. This time, he would be more cautious. He would do things for you without being asked to under the pretense of “repaying a debt” as he called it, he would let you become dependent and cocky like every human does. He would suck it up when you took the credit for his efforts in order to benefit him in the long run.

But you didn’t. No none of his past experiences could prepare him for the way you checked in on him as he worked, asking if he wasn’t burning himself out (literally) or the way you thanked him sincerely for his hard work. Azul was never worried over, never thanked.

He suffered to take revenge on those who wronged him. But how was he supposed to take revenge on someone who only did him right? For now, at least.

So as he waited, hidden behind a curtain, Azul trained his eyes on you and your friend conversing happily.

‘Credit should be given where credit is due.’ you had said.

It wasn’t the first time you exercised that belief. Even as you received strange looks from others who would’ve done differently, you always gave credit where it was due.

“Ruggie found those parts for me actually. He’s got a sharp eye!”

“No, no, I didn’t make that- Trey did. Pretty good right? Let me tell you about the time he made some brownies...”

“I didn’t put this together on my own. Jamil and Jade gave a lot of guidance too. They’re really helpful with repairs and stuff.”

“Kalim and Epel had a hand in cleaning the house with me the other day! There were some stumbles but it was probably the most fun I had cleaning my garage ever.”

“Isn’t my makeup amazing?? Vil is so good with it and I can’t believe how talented he is— yes I know he’s a bot it’s still cool though!”

To be praised. To be referred to as an equal. It is unheard of for automatons to receive that kind of treatment. Ever. Until they met you. And they would do anything to keep you.

“Thanks for having me over! Haha if you ever don’t need your Azul bot, then send him over to my house- I could use that hardworking efficiency.”

“Pfft alright I’ll ask him about it.” Your friend rolled their eyes with a laugh and waved goodbye.

You picked up the food remnants of your friend’s visit and put everything away in the rare silence of your home. There was usually always some machinery whirring or clicking coming from your bots- if not the endless chatter from the more talkative ones.

Making your way over to the translucent curtain draped over the bots you thought so fondly of, you dusted Azul off and fixed his glasses with a gentle smile. The same one you wore when he was nothing but broken scraps with nothing to offer.

“Azul, you could probably be assigned to someone really rich and powerful with better living conditions than a scavenger like me.” You touched his face gently. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me for now.”

Just as you powered him on, his hand shot out to grab your wrist. Yelping in surprise, your eyes met with his periwinkle ones glimmering with something unknown.

“A-Azul?”

You wince as his grip becomes tighter and more unforgiving, sure to leave a mark. Just as he wants.

He brings your hand up, pressing your palm to his lips in a manner too intimate for an automaton to be capable of. Tears welled up in your eyes at the sensation of pain and tenderness from him as he whispers against your skin.

“I will never serve any one else but you. No one. Not even you can tear me away from being yours. Or you mine.”

You gave this poor little octobot a chance to experience something he had never even dreamed was possible before, and you can’t possibly think about letting him go anytime soon because you were different. So he would treat you differently.

The day you took him in, you made a deal. A deal that enabled equal and opposite care between the two of you.

Credit should be given where credit is due, and Azul feels as though he hasn’t given enough credit for all the kindness you’ve shown him.

The automaton intertwines his fingers with your own, sending shivers down your spine, and flashes a smile similar to that of a businessman who scored a good deal.

Hitched breathing and heart thumping, he brings you to his chest. Somehow cold yet burning against your skin.

“You’re mine.” he repeated, commandingly. desperately.

You signed the contract marked upon his manmade heart, so won’t you let him stick around? Don’t worry, it’s just until the contract ends.

And as for how long it stays active?

Indefinitely.

#this is so good sheesh #my lil octobot 🥺 #wonderful works #reblog #yandere twisted wonderland #automaton au #yandere azul x reader

[lovesickloverboys]

Trigger Warning! Yandere Behavior! Forced Marriage! Manipulation!

Kamisato Ayato | Unedited | 2.6k Words | Very Badly Written

Ayato is, what you would call, the perfect husband. He was the ideal, the type you dreamed of as a child when other men hadn't yet ruined your expectations. He was kind, gentle and was loved by all those around you. Whether it be your parents or your closest friends. Sometimes you wondered if you truly deserved him.

You trusted Ayato, often more than you did yourself. But at times, that trust you thought indisoluble wavered, even if just a bit. Despite telling yourself you were overthinking, you just couldn't shake the feeling of something… unsettling, for no better way to put it, happening behind your back.

"I'm home." Your husband announced, entering the living room where you were, putting his coat to the side as he rushed to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, enveloping you with his arms. It was a routine at this point, since you agreed to leave your job it had become a common occurrence for him to shower you with affection the moment you were within a certain radius of him. Instead of being greeted by an empty home and a text telling him to not wait for you, he was met with his lovely wife. He just couldn't help but want to smother her in every last bit of love he had, or so he would say.

And while usually you'd revell in his affection, this time around you couldn't help but notice a faint brown stain on his collar, the white of the otherwise pristine cotton garment contrasting with the stain.

You'd convinced yourself it was just a normal stain. That you were just overreacting, nothing strange. And despite the fact that no matter how much you washed that shirt it never came off, you simply looked past it.

Case closed, right? How you wished that was the end of it. Isolated incidents like that one, far spaced enough to brush off as mere coincidences but enough to bring back thoughts you had long put away. Doubts that were so painstakingly buried resurfaced again, constantly playing at the back of your mind.

Small stains, as if he had brushed past his shirt with hands dipped in wet paint, thin cuts and at times, mild bruises.

You lived in a far more isolated area, surrounded by a thick forest and empty fields from all sides, the closest neighbor a good few miles away and it didn’t help seeing him slip away in the early hours of the morning, long before you were meant to be awake, to go on walks with only the premature rays of the sunrise as his guide.

Perhaps it was because of your paranoia that you started paying more attention to him, to the way he'd stare down at his plate when he had to eat a food he didn't quite fancy, the small habits he had, the way his lips curved to form a smile compared to the one he had when with people he disliked, everything, no matter how minor it seemed.

Whenever you gave yourself a feasible explanation for his actions he'd go and do something else. Nothing noticeable enough to have caused a ruckus, to have warranted your suspicion but enough for your keen eye to discern. At times you thought you were merely jumping to conclusions, that your thoughts were mere attempts to find fault in your husband.

So you tried to confide in your closest friends, those who had met Ayato, who had known him for almost as long as you.

“At times I feel like I’m overreacting—I know it’s strange, but things keep happening and I, I just don’t know anymore…”

They denounced you. Ayato couldn’t do such a thing, he’s far too kind, for his own wife to suspect him, poor man.

‘Ayato wouldn’t even hurt a fly’ and similar comments defending his innocence, some claiming you read too many strange novels and others digging out your old insecurities, reminding you of how good your husband is, far too good for someone like you.

You felt like the worst wife—no, the worst person alive. To have an inferiority complex, to your own husband, to the man that loved you through sickness and through health, so again, you tried to put those thoughts to the side, told yourself that it had all been naught but a product of your imagination.

“Ayato, isn’t it adorable?” You mused, fawning over the stray cat that latched itself to your side.

“Hmm…” Your husband said in a dismissing tone, as he stood behind you. Perhaps that’s when it was cemented in your mind, that something was truly amiss. When you turned to him and saw his face, if only for a fraction of a second, you were reminded of an all too familiar expression, one that haunted your thoughts at the start of your marriage. One that you convinced yourself, that just like all your recent fears, was something you were simply imagining as time took its course.

“[name]? Is something wrong?” He asked, looking at you in worry. Your complexion had turned pale as you simply remained there crouched with a blank expression on your face, his brows were knitted just slightly, no one would think he could make such terrifying faces with features as refined as his.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before you came out of your bewildered state.

“Ah… I’m sorry Ayato…I spaced out for a second.” You brushed off, trying not to alarm your husband any further, though, unfortunately for you, your absent mindedness didn’t go unnoticed. Ayato was quick to catch on, he had seen the way your eyes traveled to the new stain he cursed himself for leaving on his clothes, or the injuries he had hoped you wouldn’t notice for your own good. He could only pray you didn’t take any drastic actions that have him force his hand, the last thing the male would want is for you to look at him with contempt.

But unfortunately, it became evident that you were uncomfortable with him after that. Shuddering at the mere mention of being in close proximity to him, your eyes incapable of meeting his own without them being drowned in suspicion and doubt. You knew something was amiss, what it was you had yet to find out but you knew for sure that these events weren’t mere coincidences. That expression your husband had helped resurface much more than fear inside of you, it brought back memories you had convinced yourself weren’t there along with it. Emotions you had sworn to leave behind you.

Memories of when you first ‘met’.

/

Ayato has always been the antithesis to you. If he was perfect then you were flawed in every sense. He had it all, wealth, status, intelligence. He lacked nothing and yet still vied for more whilst you were left barely grappling what you had, unable to even graze the heights he so effortlessly stood at. This became increasingly evident as the year went on, every test result ended the same, with your name below only his, every time some ranking based event happened, every single time.

Your parents had always placed a great importance into education, something that since the male’s appearance had started to weigh down on you like a burden. As you heard more comments emphasizing his talent, more remarks about how much greater he is, how pitiful you were.

Perhaps that’s why you stepped down on your own volition from the student council president candidate position, you couldn’t compete with Ayato, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Once again stuck as someone inferior to him, Vice President, while not bad by any means, continued being lesser to Ayato.

But despite the frustration you felt at the constant comparison, you never directed your hatred towards Ayato, after all, it wasn’t his fault. You never hated him, not until you were forced to work under him, that is. At first, he was kind to you, just as he was to all others around you. Never leaving his work for others to do and always respectful.

Ayato had a perfect college life perfectly planned and carefully crafted to fit his ideal and all that was left to mark the final check off his list was a girlfriend, an innocent love story to gush over. And who could be a better candidate than his lovely Vice President? So diligent and cute. You were popular in your own right as well, you’d be the perfect person, he just has to time it right.

And so he did, by the time he stood in front of you, you had already been reduced to a fraction of your old self. Your eyes no longer shine brightly with hope as they used to, nor did you simply brush off every loss—vowing to work harder the next time as you used to, you weren’t bursting with overconfidence any more.

“You….what?” He couldn’t help but admit how cute you looked all confused at his words.

“I like you, [name].” Ayato simply repeated as a smile graced his features. Everything was perfect, from the cherry blossoms gently carried by the wind, the onslaught of onlookers that wouldn’t relent until you said yes, nothing could go wrong.

You could vividly remember the feeling of your heart sinking to your stomach. A shiver ran through your back as you imagined what would happen if you rejected him. As if he had not caused you enough problems already. As if your own friends hadn’t already turned against you in a heart in his defense the moment you voiced your thoughts. Everything from your first meeting in front of the results board to now had built up to this point, each event adding another shackle to you who was once a free spirit.

That’s when you first saw it, what now you knew was his true face, not the facade he so painstakingly crafted. The way his eyes looked down at you, daring you to utter anything beyond a single yes. You didn’t dare look him in the eye again.

“Come now, don’t leave me hanging. Will you go out with me, hmm [name]?” He called your name so gently, as if he hadn't looked at you as if you were the most pathetic existence in the world, as if he didn’t know what he was doing, and wasn't aware of every leering eye surrounding you two. And even if he wasn’t, you most certainly were aware of how everyone in that vicinity was solely focused on you two, waiting to hear your answer, already having decided on the topic for their next gatherings.

“Y-yes…” you muttered under your breath and while some would expect you to be more enthusiastic, it was enough to bring a smile to Ayato’s face as he was quick to pull you into an embrace. You were never able to fully process everything that happened afterwards. Not when things were moving so fast and Ayato seemed to adamant on having everything his way. No one seemed to mind it though, no one but you it seems. You parents were quick to accept him, you commended him for that as at times, it felt like he was more their child than you. Every theme you two fought or argued, it was never for debate who was at fault but you knew deep down that your parents were convinced it was always your fault, Ayato could never. It would always end with them taking you back to him.

Eventually he convinced them to let him marry you, not that it took much convincing on his end. It seemed like the entire world was in his favour and you were the only one in the wrong. Expressing your distaste only made those close to you vilify you without a second thought. It’s as if he took everything from you and now he would take you as well. You never thought your footsteps would feel so heavy as you walked down the aisle, desperate to delay the inevitable even if just for a bit. Every time you inched closer to the altar, it felt as if another shackle tied itself to you, cementing your fate as his.

Your mind wandered off again as he recited his vows. You hadn’t noticed until now how handsome he looked in his suit, how eye catching he looked. In comparison, you seemed quite dull, not nearly as good as him at least. Maybe if the man standing next to you was more normal, more plain looking, fitting of you, maybe then you could shine on such a day as well. But here you seemed as little more than a side piece to make his side look a little less empty, a little less lonely.

“Do you, [name], take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”

You almost felt compelled to say no, like you should’ve all that time ago when he first asked you out. Maybe you would’ve had the grip he had on his hands not been akin to a vice, threatening to break your hand if any more pressure was applied, had the look in his eyes not looked so similar to the one you saw that day, the one that vividly replayed in the back of your mind whenever you were with him. Had he not looked so ready to put you through hell perhaps you would’ve said no.

\

Now that you looked back on everything, maybe you were right to be suspicious of him. At least that’s what you told yourself as you rummaged through his desk. He always kept the drawers under it locked but it wasn’t all that hard to break through them with a hair pin and some minutes spent on the verge of screaming from frustration. However you found nothing out of the ordinary beside a picture, it looked to have been taken discreetly as the angle was strange and resolution blurry at most but the face was still clearly visible. It was a man, he looked much older than both you and your husband and you didn’t ever recall seeing him in Ayato’s inner circle.

Despite your efforts, you found nothing incriminating, not enough to explain your husband's strange quirks so you put everything back in its place, locked all drawers and made sure no trace was left of what you had done that day. It was hard to continue living with him, to look him in the eye despite everything that was going on in your head and you’d have to do just that. You’d have to continue waking up to him sprawled next to you and spend your day in a house that had nothing but traces of him and go to sleep next to him every night and act like nothing was wrong.

It was during one of these instances that you two were sharing a meal, listening to Ayato talk about his day and all the new projects he’d be working on when all your suspicions were confirmed. You were uninterested in both your husbands talking and the news playing in the background, zoned out as you looked at the food on your plate when the news announced a murder. Nothing new, not until you saw the face of the man that was found dead, the cutlery in your hands dropping to the floor as you could only look at your husband in blatant fear. You weren’t crazy, no, it was him all along.

In hindsight maybe it would’ve been smarter to conceal your shock but there was no going back now as he stared into your soul with a smile you knew meant anything but well.

Masterlist

#FINALLY!!! #ty for the scrumptious meal bestie 😼 #reblog #wonderful works #yandere ayato #yandere genshin impact #yandere

[lovesickloverboys]

Just as I can be so cruel

malleus draconia, twisted wonderland

tw: yandere, forced marriage, female reader, implied kidnapping, posessive behavior

You wonder how many marriages are built on the foundation of fear.

Lilia had told you it was only natural to be scared, to be hesitant in going forth with the dress fittings, to cry and resist and fight back against your inevitable nuptials. “Buck up,” he had whispered in your ear, tightening your corset before squeezing you into a gown, “you’ll never want or need for anything. Isn’t that ideal, for humans like you?”

You take great trepidation in dealing with your fiancée. As cautious as you are around Malleus as of late, you also fear for him, in a way pitying him. As confusing and overwhelming as it is being with a powerful creature such as he, (unwillingly, at that), your betrothed had always seemed somewhat foreign in the experience of romantic love and relationship.

In friendship, those many months ago at Night Raven College, he was wholly alien to your casual outings and terms of endearment. It became endearing, after a while, how amused and jilted he became in lieu of your impromptu nicknames and friendly asides. Perhaps it was because you weren’t initially disillusioned by his rank or identity, didn’t view him as superior or as someone to be feared.

If he was initially so estranged from friendship as a concept, surely he had no prior examples of marriage to go off of, not in any healthy sense. He was vastly intelligent, powerful and adept in the field of magic, wise beyond how he appeared in years, but seemed so stunted and ignorant as to connection and propinquity.

It wasn’t as if Malleus was lonely. By your standards, at least. Sebek showered his young master in such adoration and attention that you wondered how Malleus didn’t suffocate, and Lilia always gave way to how deeply his affections ran for his pseudo-son, as you used to call him.

This is what made it so strange that you were proposed to in the weeks after you returned home, an eagerly wide-eyed graduate, hopeful for the future you had worked towards arduously for many years. The instant your parents had received a letter from the crown prince’s esquire, formally asking for your willing hand in marriage, such dreams were smothered out. You were whisked away to Briar Valley without a single say in the matter.

Malleus is your friend. Never your lover. He’s only misconstrued what sort of commitment you were willing to pursue with him, and it’s on you to amend this misconception, isn’t it?

But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to justify and redirect your friends’ actions when he does things like this.

“At least let me see my parents before you delude them into thinking I’m your willing bride,” you fluster, storming after Malleus’ towering form down the winding castle halls. Portraits and tapestries line aged cobblestone walls, leering down at you as you pointedly ignore their existence. It’s cold, dewy, abysmal weather outside, and his mood isn’t any better. He doesn’t respond, and it scares you, but you refuse to relent.

You tug on the loose fabric of his coat, as if he’d feel such a small action. “Malleus, please. Why must you be so difficult? I just need to-“ he turns, suddenly coming to a halt, finally uprooted from his indifference by your taunts. You bristle, clenching your fists and steeling yourself— but he’s still so frigid, so monotone, maintaining apathy that stings worse than anger —and continue with your tirade.

“Can we just sit down for a moment. You wanted to discuss the particulars of the guest list, didn’t you? We can work out all of the kinks.” He considers you, bright green eyes tearing into you, as if you were live on a vivisection table, and relents. He always does.

Your bedroom is the only modicum of autonomy you have to cling to, at present, and he invades it by his presence all the same. You’ve made it your home, these past months, arranging and rearranging near ancient pieces of furniture. You fume once more as he casually lounges on an ottoman, never uttering a single word, making you appear so dumb and flustered standing before him. And you are, admittedly and rightfully, furious with him.

Your fiancée raises his brows, expectant.

“I found out that my mother was kept from entering the castle yesterday morning, and by your orders, she’s been sent home. Can you first give me an explanation for that?” you cross your arms, keeping a passable distance from him. Malleus sighs, brows sharply furrowing, as if he was frustrated at being caught.

But he knew you knew, that your family had finally made attempts at contacting you, perhaps hoping to make up for the unceremonious decision to acquiesce to Malleus’ proposal without your consent. If only to ensure that they’ll be the ones to receive your supposedly hefty dowry. Even when you get yourself out of this, you can hardly imagine ever forgiving them, but you were more so disturbed by the revelation that Malleus had also been keeping your mother’s letters from you. You had stumbled upon three month’s worth, kept tightly bound upon his desk.

“And you’re sure of this?” He begins, crossing his arms and regarding you, and you know you cannot rat out the fae who had lay bare this information to you. Malleus frowns as you nod, and rises from his seat.

With a slow, ominous pace he approaches you, lifting both hands to rest on your shoulders. It’s difficult and annoying to have to crane your head so sharply, but you’re adamant on keeping to his gaze all the same. Your neck burns. “Malleus, I’m not angry. I just don’t understand it. You were so accommodating and kind to them back in my village, so why this…?”

He smiles at your words, in a manner you interpret as blatantly condescending. As if your concerns were so simple and unfounded, and his actions easily dismissible. “It’s not totally untrue, I’ll admit to that. Your mother showed up rather early in the morn for a human, disheveled and demanding to be let in…” he trails, tutting and frowning down at you in mock disapproval, as if to perform genuine emotion.

You don’t speak, allowing him to continue. At this, he strokes a strand of your hair affectionately. You flinch, but if he noticed, he doesn’t show it.

“To relieve you of your confusion, my dear, you must understand that I had to turn your mother away in an act of self-preservation.” You gape, openly guffawing at his statement. Before you can refute his words, remind him of his standing as an all-powerful sorcerer of this world, he continues. “She was quite up in arms as to my treatment of her daughter, speaking so degradingly of you, I had to assume that she was jealous of your luxury.”

It’s a ridiculously fabricated lie, you tell him, near frenzied by an onslaught of rage. Childish liar. You call him as such, as he impresses his ridiculous concerns upon you, as if villainizing your mother further will serve to justify his behavior. Now fuming and unwilling to listen further, to hear him droll on about how he’s only protecting you once more, you tear from your betrothed, and supply him with a steady glare.

“You don’t want me around anything that is not you,” you seethe, glowering at Malleus from across the room, “as if i’ll begin to stink the moment I so much as look at another person.” You point and gesture to him in a flurry of frustration, airing your every grievance without filter or fear, naming him a captor rather than a lover, insisting that he just let you go.

He remains unmoving from where he last stood, malignant green eyes trailing your every movement. And he begins to frown, after a while, when your words turn more brutal and accusing, when spit flies from your mouth as you squawk and scream and bawl your ireful allegations. You shut up when he approaches you, at least, eyeing him now with specks of fear and trepidation in your glimmering eyes.

Malleus was never one to be loomed over or missed, standing as tall as he does, his presence so all-consuming and numbing, you often forget yourself, when by his side. It’s different, you suppose, being his lover, to be subjected to the mild affections of a creature that hardly ever acted in the interests of his peers. You could barely conjure the idea that he would lay a harmful hand to you, the weak human he works so hard to protect and constrain to his side.

He raises a hand to your cheek, gently, and you flinch as his nail grazes your cheekbone. You feel yourself falter and freeze as he encloses his arm around your waist, pulling you to him so intimately, so much closer than you’d been with any person before. Malleus sighs, stroking your cheek languidly, distracting and diverting you from your fury, albeit momentarily. You fluster, blush, but don’t forget yourself, and begin to struggle, swatting away his loving caresses.

At once, he becomes volatile. Your cheeks are snatched in a vicious grip, sharp, black nails threatening to puncture soft skin. You struggle to inhale from how sharply and strongly he holds your waist. “Hurts,” you blubber, grappling and clawing at the fabric of his coat desperately, but he only smiles. His hand squeezes, digs, pries into your cheek, and you cannot bear how cruelly he leers down upon you, this creature who used to be your friend.

Malleus was closer than touch, crushing you to him, basking in your apparent dread and terror. Like a cruel child, you distantly muse, who’s gotten a toy after beating it out of the hands of someone younger and weaker, a baby whos too scared to tattle.

“You’d do good to be a little nicer to me, you cruel little thing,” he starts, so chiding and so terribly infuriating that you almost disregard your fear once more, but his grip is still iron-clad and crushing, “I don’t know how much more I can tolerate from your degradation.”

“Everything I’ve done, my every move thus far, I have done for you. I’m not blinded nor jaded by my love, as you presume to think— in fact, I’m thinking quite clearly.” He inches closer, too close, close enough that you can see how his irises are more reptilian and slitted than you had though, so inhuman. His lips are furled, and you can feel your eyes gloss with tears as his edgy breath wafts over your face.

“So misguided, so silly you are, to believe I’d ever take you as my bride haphazardly. That we were nothing more than acquaintances.”

And he pulls away, finally allowing you to breathe, though you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to grace this bedroom without feeling the phantom of his crushing touch. His hand lingers on yours, thumb tracing over the delicate band of your engagement ring. No longer is your mind clouded with worthless euphemism and foolish hope— this is Malleus, laid bare and exposed on his back, stripped of all niceties and facades, demonstrating for you the brunt of his love.

He raises your cold limp hand to his lips, satisfied with your pliant, lamblike mien. Rid of all nasty hatred, instead flushed with fear, which he accepts as gracefully and warmly as he would your love.

#the moodiness 🤌 #reader you can swap places with me if you want LOL #wonderful works #reblog #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere malleus

[lovesickloverboys]

could you write something about lilia and a reincarnated darling? <3

tw: yandere, female reader, implied bodily torture and mutilation (not of you)

World histories hasn’t been an enjoyable class for you. Mozus Trein is a very particular professor, critical of even your best responses, vivisecting you in front of all your peers at the slightest discrepancy or marginal error. Your professor is well-trained in the art of intimidation and the persecution of all slackers that may lurk in his room. Class time drones on, endlessly, and you’ve scarcely even a single acquaintance to help bide the time.

This topic is interesting, though. The collapse of a small, insignificant kingdom, the battle of Briar Valley and a king and queen of old, a cyclically one-sided event that rather plays out as fiction. A lost princess, accusations and long-winded court trials, diplomatic ruin, the embers of war quickly snuffed out by the larger nation. The textbook reads like a novel. You turn ahead, forward a page or two, because really, it wasn’t a long section to begin with. Trein was going to omit it from the test entirely, finding it unnecessary material, but something somehow crucial to learn all the same.

You come across a copy of a letter, dated back a century or two; the paper itself seems singed and wrinkled in the photo, ink smudged and writing scrawled messily about the page. It speaks of an individual’s captivity, of months spent secured in a dungeon cell, of the creature that endlessly tormented them, claimed to love them, who they feared would strip them of their life.

A small clarification is printed on the margin, a historian’s assumption that the letter was written by the princess herself. A final goodbye. Her corpse, singed and decomposing, fetid and nearly unidentifiable, was found within her castle’s dungeon not months after that insignificant royal family fell to ruin.

They were decapitated, in the end, the king having been charged with the murder of his own child. Embezzlement and countless other crimes were identified, as well, but it was the princesses death that shook the nation. He was presumed to have obsessed over the girl to a point of no return, placing the blame of her “kidnapping” on an allied kingdom instead, acting as a distraught father to obtain plausible deniability.

Mangled, tainted, scorched, and disembodied, she lived her last months in misery and torment, enduring and just taking the brunt of her father’s sickening obsession. The text describes it, too, vividly and without filter. It makes you nauseous.

Too insane to be fit to rule, it was an act of heroism from Briar Valley that ended his reign. A portrait illustrates the very hero who found the princess’ corpse, who caught the king in an act of human atrocity, who exposed his every repugnant scheme. He rather looks like Lilia Vanrouge.

Bewildered by the staggering similarity, you turn around to peak at Diasomnia’s vice house warden, who lazily doodles on scrap paper, casual and reclined. This hero’s hair is much longer, sure, his bangs without Lilia’s messily chopped style— you look from the print and back to him, and wonder if you’ve lost your head. Slitted dark eyes snap up to meet your own, startling you in your seat, bordering on a small yelp. But Vanrouge only beams at you benevolently, sending off a little wave with a nod of his head.

Yours is a little more uneasy, a wary little grin, and you’re eager to return to your studies with a quick turn of the head.

Little else is written of this hero, much less a name, and you frown in irritation at the lack of explanation the text provides. What happens next, what of the kingdom’s people, what of the hero and how he lived and died, if he bore such significance to the past. By time the bell tolls and your peers become jittery for lunch hour, you’ve reread this section at least three times, scouring paragraph after paragraph for an inkling of a name or information, dissecting and staring at this hero’s portrait in avid curiosity.

Sat in the library without even a snack to tide you over, you absorb yourself in the textbook once more, now crazed by confusion and a lust for discovery. Professor Trein hadn’t any more information on the matter, merely recommending the obvious, to search Night Raven’s vast archives. You hardly took time to watch where you stepped as you rushed out of the classroom, not noticing a faint call of your name.

It would be smart to comment on his resemblance, and perhaps you’d hear that Lilia gets it all the time, that it’s merely an uncanny doppelgänger, or perhaps a great-great-great-grandpa who’s stories he’d inherited and treasured. You consider every outcome and interaction, as you trace your fingertips along book-spines in search of a clue, flipping through old tombs and random novellas dated centuries ago. Nothing crops up, but you’re so oddly determined…

Lilia Vanrouge wasn’t a boy you had ever thought to interact with. He was intimidating, with how he eerily snuck up on others and seemed so much more mature than any of his peers. Perhaps you were just insecure, but he does scare you, in a way. It feels as if he’s always watching, when you’re in class. You’d never taken the chance to greet him, and didn’t plan to, but you turn your heel to march back to your table and come face-to-face with him.

You gape for a moment, but snap your mouth shut while suddenly leaning back, and he laughs. “You’re a jumpy little thing, aren’t you? I hardly remember the last time someone hopped so high at the sight of me.” Nearly chortling, now, Lilia’s jeers prompt you to frown in deep embarrassment, still shocked at his presence.

“I yelled after you, you know. You’re quite fast, like a little-rabid-rabbit.” Stomaching the derogatory insinuation that you were a viciously contagious animal, you ask him what do you want, snippy and short, and Vanrouge grins. All teeth and malice.

He takes a pen from his pocket, your favorite, the one with bunny ears for a thrust device, with carrot printed on its barrel. At your blatant staring, the way your whole body goes rigid in embarrassment, Lilia barks a harsh laugh. “I found it a few weeks ago— matches perfectly with that darling little carrot folder you use in class. It’s yours, is it not?”

“Yes,” You grit, moving to snatch it back, but Lilia edges away, tutting condescendingly. Tantalizingly waving it before you, the vice house warden chides, “Yes….?”, and good grief, are you grateful to have never pursued his friendship. You relent, muttering please without meeting his eye, and in an instant the pen is back in your waiting hands.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Lilia beams, crossing his arms behind his back and squinting his red, slitted eyes giddily, as if you were some toy to poke and prod. Huffing in annoyance, you turn away, then swell in relief to hear him saunter away. You’re relieved, sure, but without an answer. Left with your textbook and the endlessly looming bookshelves chock full of information, but nothing that you’re looking for. He’s the only means you have at stomping out this curiosity that gnaws at you. He’s still here, distantly lurking in your peripheral, but not for long.

You swallow, hesitating to speak, but muster the grit and gumption to call after him.

It’s funny how quickly he appears again, situating himself right before you in some chair that just wasn’t there before. Through thick lashes he gazes up at you, expectant and silent, and you stamp out the urge to fidget and flounder.

“You… You look like the man from our textbook,” You fire away, surprised at your own bluntness. So eager. He smiles, quirks his brow, and leans back in amusement. “What man?” Lilia locks on to your every movement, inspecting and what feels like dissecting as you flutter about your work station, flipping to the familiar page. You point, and he leans in, inching closely to your side, much more than what is necessary to see, but you allow it.

He’s silent, and you’re sweating, hoping not to have offended him, to incur his wrath. “I’m not trying to be rude,” you can hardly withstand his “mildly” teasing asides as is, “but there is a resemblance, isn’t there…? Are you… are you related or something?” He laughs again, of course he does, but this time Lilia shakes with it, enduring the tremors of his glee while nearly buckling over in his seat. It goes on, and you’re forced to apologize to the surrounding students in his stead.

Hushing him, bending down to lay a weary hand upon his quaking shoulder, you whisper, “I’m really not trying to make jokes, vice-housewarden.” So formal.

At your words (or touch, from how quickly he stills at the sensation of your hand— you remove it immediately), Vanrouge sobers, though still giggling to himself quietly. “Lilia is fine. And no, this man is not my relative,” he breathes a small, incredulous huff at that, “though I’ve been reminded of our uncanny resemblance more than once.”

A disappointing answer, really, but he continues. “But that isn’t the only thing you’re eager to know, is it?” he inquires, prompting you to frown at his sly tone, the nearly perverse way in which he looks at you. You shake your head, still so hesitant and cautious, but marveled at his I-know-more-than-I’m-letting-on attitude all the same. He rises, winks, takes your hand and ventures deeper into the library’s labyrinth of shelves. Too nervous to pull away, you allow yourself to be handled and dragged along, and you try not to speak to how faintly his thumb rubs over your pulse.

Before you is the restricted section. Thick chains bar off a small row of bookshelves, and you question why the staff would place such a tantalizing venture in public eye, amongst these unsavory students, but Lilia bypasses their meager warnings with a flick of a wrist. The chain unravels, powdery dust flies from it, and you don’t think you even saw Lilia use his wand.

He lets go of you. After a moment in festering silence, onlooking quietly as he deftly rakes his eyes over varying titles and genres, Lilia lets out an ‘aha’. He provides you with yet another mischievous grin before suddenly, a scroll is opened and in your hands.

“I’ve heard rumors as to the truth of that little story,” your eyes flicker to him and to the aged paper laid delicately in your palms, feeling quite burdened to hold an obvious artifact, “and I can tell it to you, if you’ll be so kind as to listen.” Nodding, you lean against the shelve to unfurl the ancient article, untying ribbon and undoing a small seal (a rose for a coat of arms) with shaky precision. He joins you, looking on eagerly.

“She truly was taken, the girl, but that corpse they found was more likely a maid than any royal princess.” He speaks in confidence, spinning his words without a moments hesitation or reaction as you guffaw. “Briar Valley has quite a few towers, you see. Our palace is remarkably large, looming above it all, the Valley of Thorns and its people.” His finger taps the scroll, which you have yet to unfurl, and as you do, your stomach begins to curl. Your throat begins to close. “And within the tallest one, I found a lovely painting, a portrait, not dissimilar to the one you hold now.”

It’s you, sketched on this paper, your face captured so acutely and with such precision, facial structure and countenance vividly mirrored. Every freckle and groove and scar and unnoticeable little quirk. It’s you, adorned in jewels and an old gown, so aged and ancient and unlike anything you’ve ever worn before. Your knees buckle beneath you, for a moment, but you don’t fall. A cheek rests upon your shoulder, and Lilia’s pointed nail raises to trace your illustrated likeness.

“You don’t remember, of that I’m sure, but I can recall how positively horrified you were to hear of your father’s demise. A shame you don’t remember, but I suppose I should be grateful to have a fresh start.”

Beside you, drawn exactly as he appeared in that textbook-rendition, is Lilia, without an inkling of doubt— you feel your throat tighten more, suffocating you, your whole body taking pause before trembling. It’s a mix of shock and awe and long-suppressed trauma that prompts you to cry, weep, but on you, tears looks so pretty, and Lilia can hardly restrain himself from wrapping his arms around your quivering form.

#the buildup... sheesh #the writing is so good #wonderful works #reblog #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere twst

[lovesickloverboys]

Petty Desire

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Pierro x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 0,8k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

I swear, all these purple prose formal conversations are gonna be the death of me. Tagging my new moot who’s still wheezing at Pantore ship name that I accidentally created yesterday @teabutmakeitazure.

Keep reading

#😳😳😳 #the dilf energy... #ngl i love the helpless princess trope #wonderful works #reblog #genshin impact #yandere pierro x reader #yandere pierro

[lovesickloverboys]

The Doctor

Yandere! Il Dottore x Female! Reader

I was rereading Carl Tanzler’s Wikipedia and found a gold mine at the ‘Later life and death’ section. Idk if it’s real, but it sure has inspired me to write this what-if scenario. Also, if there’s any inaccuracy in the symptom, I apologize. I’ve done my research tho, dw.

***

“[Name], do you trust me?”

You turned your head towards him and smiled. Gently, like a mother would. Like a friend would. Like a lover would. You used to smile a lot to him, but nowadays, you spent more time sleeping or staring at the ceiling. At the sky. At something he didn’t see, couldn’t see, and wouldn’t see. Not only because he still hadn’t accomplished his biggest objective yet, but because you were here. You were still here. And he wanted you to stay here.

“Of course.”

And yet, even as you reached out to hold his hand, Dottore could feel your life slipping through his fingers. Your warmth. Your love. It wasn’t as if you’d stopped loving him, or if you could ever stop loving him, but you’d resigned now. To his perceived rejection. To fate. To destiny. Nowadays, you were just happy that he’d accompany you, every night with his real self and every day with his clones. Despite his grumbling, despite his huffing, the clock remained a witness to his devotion even as it ticked down in the room. Even as the sand trickled down in the hourglass.

“Then, I shall restore you.”

And now, you, too, had become a witness to his devotion. Not a confession, let alone a reciprocity, but a promise nonetheless.

“As long as you don’t neglect your health, I shall wait for you.”

He smiled bemusedly at your familiarly kind response, the same way you smiled at his familiarly odd statement.

But, alas, the experiments still took time. The discoveries even more so. It wasn’t the first time you suffered night sweats, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. During these times, Dottore would diligently wipe the sweat from your forehead and his segments would dutifully wash the bedcover. Every time, every day, every night. Without fail.

“It’s so painful…” you whined, gripping his gloved hand. “It feels so hot yet so cold. Please make it stop, Dottore.”

“Give me a bit more time and you shall sleep more peacefully.”

Dottore squeezed your hand back, offering a more loving comfort because his tongue couldn’t express it. Because his heart couldn’t express it. Impatience was a demon who whispered during his vulnerable moments, but he always persevered and gave you medicines to soothe your pain in the meantime.

Soothe, never heal.

But it wasn’t the time yet, he told himself as he watched you wilting more and more under his care despite his title as The Doctor, patience was a virtue even if it seemed otherwise. Even if the demon insisted otherwise. Even if his heart screamed otherwise.

The time would soon come.

And when that happened…

“Here, I’ve finally concocted the drug.”

“Thank you so much!”

… he’d welcome you with open arms.

“It tastes weird.”

“Come, now. Don’t be a kid and drink it all.”

Dottore took the vial from your hand and put it on the nightstand. With the keenness yet happiness only a successful scientist could muster, he beheld the sight of your face slowly going from disgust to relaxation. You breathed less and less, blinked less and less, and moved less and less.

Until you finally stopped.

Smiling contentedly, Dottore leaned forward and allowed himself the privilege he’d been denying for the sake of his pride.

He kissed your forehead.

“Suffer no more sweet [Name]. I have sent you to the angels with my golden elixir.” He chuckled against your skin. “If such beings even exist.”

The root of wolfsbane with aconite diluted, mixed together so it’d become more palatable. Because you trusted him to give you a peaceful sleep.

Just like what he promised.

And when he entered his lab after ordering one of his segments to put your body in a better resting place, Dottore once again beheld the sight before him with the keenness yet happiness only a successful scientist could muster.

Your own segment, created when you were at your healthiest and happiest.

Because you trusted him to restore you.

Just like what he promised.

#!!! #my fav mad scientist #wonderful works #yandere dottore #genshin impact #reblog

[lovesickloverboys]

An idea for an au: Genshin meets HxH

Yan! Harbingers (mainly Childe, but includes brief mentions of Kunikuzushi, Dottore, Pantalone, Signora) x Reader

So imagine--you live in Teyvat, and in this au, there's something called the Abyss exam. The Abyss is an ominous, massive tower that's as tall as it is sprawling. It has different levels, each floor featuring different simulated environments from hot and cold deserts to humid tropical jungles, complete with mirages and death traps.

The Abyss exam is held every year, and although there is no limit to how many people can pass it, the winners for the past few years have whittled down to single digits. It's undoubtedly difficult, testing everything from the exam taker's physical to mental fortitude, but if you can conquer the Abyss--reach its topmost floor--you will become a bonafide adventurer carrying the most powerful license in Teyvat--one that grants you an n number of privileges and special access to places the public can't ever hope to step in. Not to mention the immense wealth you'll be granted.

Everything is going well at first--except for a few players, most make it to the second floor. Now, the intensity is dialed up a notch.

The first death is a complete shock to you--it feels like being suddenly splashed with cold water, leaving you feeling clammy and jittery with anxiety. You did hear that participants died in previous years, and you did read the ominous death clause in your contract, but to see it first hand sends an alarm through you--you can very well die in this exam.

But you have a goal to reach--you made it this far and you are not going to let yourself give into the fear.

The first player who approaches you on their own is a redhead named Ajax. His friendliness and awkward sense of humor is genuinely welcoming in such a tense environment, so you accept his approach with relief and gratefulness.

He seems to be the perfect candidate in your eyes--he has great endurance, knows pretty much all different types of fighting styles, and he can keep a cool head when he needs to. Seeing him hack and slash away opponents is as breathtaking as it is terrifying. There is a cold, manic gleam in his otherwise beautiful eyes in these moments, and you can't help but think that if you are ever forced to fight him in a 1v1, you'd lose, no questions asked.

The Abyss exam tests everything from endurance to quick thinking to team work and everything in between. You're not a weakling by any chance, but by the midpoint of this test, as the number of players gets whittled down to less than half the initial number, you start to doubt yourself. What you initially thought was your skills and occasional sheer dumb luck saving your skin, you now begin to think that there are other forces at play--one being Ajax.

You're sure he is the reason why nobody seemed to want to come after you during certain parts of this game. You have mixed feelings about this--on the one hand, it increases your chances of making it to the end, which is your goal all along. But the side that's prideful wants you to slap that smug grin off his face whenever he looks down on you with what you think is condescension.

As the surviving players begin to grow familiar with each other, they form groups of their own--which is smart, all things considered. The more minds and hands one could gather, the better the chances of survival. And Ajax more or less drags you into his clique.

There's a few other members in this group--namely Kunikuzushi, a pretty young man with a rather awful temperament and who claims to be a wanderer, a doctor, who says he's participating in this exam "for gaining the funds and means for independent research", another young man with some rather lofty goals, including "becoming the wealthiest in the continent", and a woman named Rosalyne, who seemed to detest being in this ragtag team but contributed her fair share without complaints.

Everyone has unique temperaments, but the team somehow makes it work. You usually stick around the quieter members of the group, Kunikuzushi and the doctor usually, but this only ends up making Ajax pout and whine, and you end up getting dragged away to whatever place he is interested in exploring for the moment.

When you sustain your first not-so-minor injury, the mood of your team is intense. They send death glares to the player responsible for it, as the doctor attends your wounds, and the next thing you know, Ajax nearly kills the poor guy in a match before the examiner stopped it just in time. You don't see the player in the next floor.

The final test is a 1v1. You're faced with an opponent twice your size, and they're not merciful in the least. You use techniques your team mates taught you throughout different stages of the exam, but even that is not enough, as you end up becoming bloodied and bruised and left heaving for air. You nearly get disqualified when Ajax tries to stop the match, but he is held back by the rest of your group, even though they're all gritting their teeth and clenching their fists in barely concealed anger.

You're on the brink of giving up from the sheer exhaustion, but when you look back at Ajax and Co, knowing they'll have passed this exam no problem, a renewed determination grabs your heart. You might have had certain factors favoring you, but you made it this far--so you get up one last time and deal a blow just as your opponent is distracted, causing him to drop unconscious. Just as the examiner declares you as the winner, and you hear a loud cheer from Ajax, you lose your consciousness, too.

The next time you wake up, you find Ajax waiting for you with a grin.

"At long last, comrade! Here you go--" he holds out the black and gold card, innocuous in appearance, but you know what it is--it's the license you nearly risked your life for. The rest of the members are waiting for you too (although Kunikuzushi vehemently denies that notion, despite claiming the couch near your bed all for himself).

"Oh, and another thing~" Ajax continues, pulling out an envelope addressed to you, "The Tsaritsa has invited us for a special meeting. I'm quite excited!"

You frown--although it's obviously an honor to be invited by a monarch, you can't help but feel uncomfortable. Yes, being a license holder gave you a special status, but you only did it for the money and access it'd give you as an explorer. Whatever the Tsaritsa was planning didn't seem to be something you'd be happy with. But after a moment of thinking, while you stare at the pristinely written invite, you nod.

"Hmm, in that case, I guess we can go there together. If you're all fine with that, of course."

You almost don't notice it, but the group seems to collectively sigh in relief.

"But of course, my dear," the doctor reassures with a slight smile, bandaging up your wound with fresh gauze.

You attend the orientation held for winners with your new found friends, and on the way out, catch a glimpse of a body bag being transported. Even after all that you've been through, the sight makes you queasy.

"I wonder who's that..."

An arm wraps around your shoulder. Ajax gives a guess, "Probably your opponent from the final match."

You freeze up in shock. Did you end up killing the guy?

As if reading your mind, Ajax laughs.

"Not you, little fox. Our friends here, like Kunikuzushi and Rosalyne, however, can hold a mean grudge, I'll tell you that."

And it's then you realize something--the license gave you many privileges. Access to forbidden artifacts and books, unrestricted travel to nearly every nation in the continent, free access to public facilities, and also--the privilege to commit murder, without being held legally responsible for it. You realize-

If you are a fox, then your new friends are wolves in disguise.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere childe #yandere scaramouche #yandere dottore #yandere pantalone #yandere signora #genshin scenarios #genshin impact au #yandere x reader #yandere #genshin x hxh au

[lovesickloverboys]

Mama you big fat meanie 😓💔

And what about it ☺💗

#shitpost #bloody--wankers