#Yandere Liz | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizhrs · 1 year

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Could you do a high school bullies version with Levi, Eren, or Jean pls?

a/n: I was going to make high school bully levi but the thought of captain levi being an immature tyrant towards poor cadet y/n was too good to ignore so my bad

warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, physical abuse

EREN + JEAN

They rule the school halls. Everyone sees them as the perfect duo. Guys try desperately to be them, girls want to be under them and even teachers will do anything to appease them.

It's nauseating, the contrast of how everyone views them versus how you see them. The way you know they are. They're not godly saints, or this generation's future with their good looks and charms. No they're something that follows you constantly, haunts you and pushes you to limits you didn't even know existed.

They're tyrants.

Always pushing and pulling and dragging you every which way like a rag doll. Knocking you into the walls, stealing your lunch money and homework like a bunch of children. Standing over you every chance they get, like they're entitled to every aspect of your life.

Take now for example, Eren is leaning against your shoulder, hands clenching the back of your chair as he stares at your phone.

You're usually more aware of your surroundings, unfortunately due to the many years of hell he and lackey have put you through but you were too engrossed in your texting to hear his booming footsteps making their way towards you. "Who are you texting?" He asks causally, hot air hitting your shoulder.

Your fingers clench around your small device, remembering the last time he saw something on your phone he didn't like, how he smashed the small object into a million pieces. It took you nearly a year to save up money for a new one. "No one."

He's taking it out of your hand before you can stop it, not that you had the guts to anyway. "You're going to a party tonight?" He hums, shamelessly reading your messages. "That's very new of you." He smirks.

"Give it back." You mutter, hating how weak you sound.

"How can you do my homework if you're gonna spend the night partying like a loose slut?"

Your cringe at the words. "I have the entire weekend to do it..."

He stares into you, those strikingly icy eyes that have been the cause of too many nightmares to count digging into your soul. "I should go with you, just to keep you on your feet."

"W-what? No!"

It's your friend's party. He graduated a few months ago and invited you to a college kegger and usually you would've said no but after the horrible week you've been through, getting drunk was a great way to start your weekend. It's out of town so you would've been away from Eren for a few hours which is all you can ask for.

"I don't remember asking." He's typing. Probably texting himself the address on your phone like the prick he is.

You grab the device before you can think, snatching it away. "You're not going, don't you harass me enough?" You grab your bag, quickly walking away from the table before he can make you regret your actions but of course you don't make it very far.

You slam into a chest and the way hair instantly rises on your skin tells you immediately who it is. Your hands dig into the strap of your backpack as you slowly look up, Jean's taunting eyes stare back at you. "Are you already running away from us babe?" He coos. "The day has just ended."

Of course, you should've known. They spent the entire school day ignoring you, a usual sign they're going to make up for it once that final bell rings. You should've just ran home instead of cooping up in this library.

"J-just let me—" Fingers are grabbing your hair from behind, yanking and pushing you into the wall. You wince as your shoulder hits it, hoping the librarian will come back from her break soon...not that she would do anything to help.

"You don't tell us what to do y/n. You should know this by now." Eren smiles as Jean slings an arm around his shoulder, both laughing as if this situation is hysterical.

"I-I'll do your homework Eren, just let me—"

He rolls his eyes. In front of you in a flash as he pushes his knee between your thighs. Your eyes widen at his brazen actions, instantly squirming to get out of his grip. He's been brass before, touching and teasing you as he pleases but you never get used to it. You doubt it's something anyone can really get used to. His palm rests on the space next to your head, breath fanning over your lips due to how close he is.

"You talk way too much." His finger slowly trails down your cheek before softly gripping your chin. You crane your neck to the side, cringing at his callous fingers touching you, digging into your uniform.

Jean's closer too, hands in his pocket as he watches the scene in front of him, always having that mischievous grin on his face whenever Eren plays with their favorite toy.

It's sickening.

"You can do that later pretty, right now we need your full attention." Jean whispers in your ear. "Can you do that for us?"

They follow you home.

Both walk behind you like a pair of pesky mutts, laughing and talking to each other as they watch you grip your books to your chest, trying not to have a full blown panic attack as you get closer to where you live.

You reach the trailer in the next thirty seconds, swallowing a lump in your throat as you look back at them. "G-goodbye."

Jean laughs, throwing his head back. "You think we came all the way here just to leave?"

Your teeth dig into your cheek, tearing it a little bit. The pain is nothing compared to the knots twisting in your stomach right now. "W-what, you can't come in." You whisper, knowing it's futile.

No one would help even if you screamed bloody murder. Your trailer is inconveniently parked in a neighborhood that could care less about others, too busy trying to pay bills and not starve. And they know that. They know your mother won't be home until midnight due to picking up double shifts at the diner and even then, she could spend the night at her boyfriends. They know everything about you and it's frustrating.

"You can't come in." You say again, seeing the looks on their faces. You turn around, running towards the trailer and opening the door.

Eren is behind you just as you're about to slam it shut, palm slamming against the door as he pushes it open. "You are so dramatic." He rolls his eyes, stepping in.

He grimaces at the dirt on his palm."Jesus, y/n would it kill you to clean every once in a while?" He wipes the grim on your uniform, hands shamelessly touching your breasts.

You gasp, taking a step back. Jean walks in, closing the door behind him. He snorts as he looks around. "The inside is just as shitty as the outside."

They've walked you home numerous times, taunting and harassing you every second of the walk. But they've never gone inside of your house...the fact you're alone with these psychos is settling in, tears gathering in your eyes. "What do you guys want?"

"Can't we just hang out? We have been friends for years after all."

Friends.

The turmoil in your head and bruises littering your skin beg to differ.

"You have any food?" Jean is opening your fridge before you can say anything. Thankfully, it's empty. It would be worse if the asshole ate the scarce food your mother leaves every blue moon.

"How can you live like this y/n?" Eren asks, tsking at the stray gallon of milk in the fridge. "You should be happy you have us."

"Happy?" You scoff.

"Here we are, walking you home to this pigsty of a neighborhood so you don't get hurt and all you can do is stare at us like that." He feigns hurt, hand over his chest. "It really stings."

"You're delusional." You want to walk to your room, take a nap and forget about this horrible day but to turn your back on them for even a second is a disaster waiting to happen.

"When's the party starting?" Jean asks, sitting on a stool.

Of course he told him.

"I'm not going anymore. So you guys can leave now."

"Of course we're going. Our first party together." Eren plops down on the couch. "Come watch a movie with us, pet."

You roll your eyes but grudgingly walk over, fearing for what will happen if you refuse. You sit as far away from him as possible, nails digging into your thighs as he turns on the television.

Jean unexpectedly sits next to you, startling you as your shoulders touch. You quickly scoot away which just puts you closer to Eren. You're trapped.

"Didn't know you liked me so much?" Eren chuckles, swinging an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer.

"Don't touch me!" You scream, voice shocking you more than them. Your palms are bleeding now, small cuts now visible. Your eyes widen, frantically shaking your head as you try and force out an apology.

But it's too late.

The patience he's uncharacteristically had for you all day has finally vanished as he grabs your chin, harshly forcing you to look into those dark eyes. His flip in personality is eerie, one minute a playful bully and the next resembling a full-blown sociopath.

"Why are you being so mean y/n?" He sighs, nails digging into your chin. You cry out, tears falling onto your thighs.

"I'm s-sorry." You hiccuped, shaking at the change in the atmosphere. Things always got worse when he was angry, even Jean couldn't control the brunette when he was in one of his fits and you couldn't handle that tonight.

"It's okay." He smiles, after a few seconds of silence. You blink through the tears, confusion evident in your eyes but his lips are on yours before you can question anything.

You gasp at the action, his hand softly resting against your throat as he pushes you back against the couch, lips devouring yours. What?

He's never...ever kissed you before. You can handle the insults and the hits and the unwanted touches but this is a whole new territory. You shake your head, attempting to get away but Jean holds your wrist down like the loyal pet he is. "Calm down, we're not going to hurt you." He says like that is any comfort with the way Eren's lips are trailing down your neck.

"Jean...please." You plead, trembling. You don't know why you did, maybe because a part of you knows he's not as brazen as Eren, as deranged. But he would still do anything the other asked of him.

"Fuck, you're so hot when you beg." Eren pulls away, sharp canines grinning at the sight of you.

He's called you many things but that has certainly never been one of them.

His fingers slowly go under your skirt, eliciting another scream from you. “Stop Eren! You’re fucking crazy!”

He kneels down. “After everything you’ve done to me, this is the least you can offer me y/n.”

“Done to you? I haven’t done anything to you!”

“Of course you have.” His hand grips your thigh. “From fucking day one when I saw you on that playground with that pathetic tattered dress. You were so dirty, like a fucking dog and somehow.” He laughs mirthlessly. “Thought you were better than me.”

You sob as his fingers latch around the ribbon on your underwear, pulling and tearing the cheap fabric in half. “I never—never did that.” You cry, trying to kick him away.

“Of course you did.” He counters. “Smiling at everyone but me, being friendly with nearly every loser in our class but me. Acting as if I was some monster.”

“You are.” You grit through your teeth, glaring at him. “You’ve always been the pathetic one here Eren. You think you’re so much better than everyone when in reality you’re the worst of them all.” You sniff.

He hums, spreading your thighs apart and pulling you closer. “I am better than everyone, love.” Is all he says before a hot, eager tongue drags along your slit.

The severity of this situation dawns on you as more sobs leave your lips. You’re stuck in here with them with no one to care about your weak protests and screams. These bastards can do anything to you and no one cares.

“I hate you!” You kick and writhe and struggle but both of their strong hands hold you down.

This only seems to spur him on as he sucks at your sensitive clit, lapping up the mess he’s making of you. The shame is almost too much to handle as you drip onto the cushions, nails digging into the sofa as you try and hold in the noises that are begging to be let out.

He’s merciless. The pleasure is aggressive as he drinks you down like a mad man, stretching you open with his tongue as his finger thumbs at your clit. You couldn’t help as your hips followed the movement of his tongue, lifting up and down the couch as you tried to contain the shameful pleasure brimming inside of you. He was finding new places to abuse, places you’ve never even thought of touching and it was driving you insane.

“Eren…” You moan, instantly biting down on your tongue.

He laughs, pulling away only to replace his tongue with two fingers. “Ah!” You arch your head into the sofa as he curls them, coating them in slick. He scissors them inside of you all while his thumb is rubbing harshly against your clit. It’s too much, your body reacting to his ministrations no matter how much you don’t want it to. The aching fire in your core grows and grows until you’re heaving, tears streaming down your cheeks and it’s not long until you’re releasing all over his fingers and onto the cushions.

He pulls away, standing up as he looks down at his fingers, a malicious grin on his face. “You’re so fucking cute.” He whispers, staring at you with a look you’ve never seen in those eyes before. Like you’re a priceless treasure, like you’re his. He looks completely infatuated, obsessed.

You cringe as he brings the fingers closer to your face. “Lick it off.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Fuck you.” The tears are still falling and you wonder how long until you pass out from the amount of crying you’ve been doing all day.

He rolls his eyes, forcing his fingers into your mouth and making you taste yourself. You cringe, instantly pulling away. “Get off!”

He stares at you like this is a simple tantrum and you need to be disciplined, like he didn’t just assault you. He’s about to say something but the ringing of his phone thankfully saves him. He sighs, staring at the device before groaning and walking away. “I’ll be back.” He disappears down the hallway.

Further inside your house.

You sniff, wiping the tears away and closing your legs. You can barely breathe. Jean finally speaks up, voice sounding like nails on a board. “It was probably important. To have him run off like that.” He says casually.

You don’t say anything. Eyes staring at nothing as you try and process what just happened…what will probably happen next. “Why are you doing this to me…” You whisper.

Jean is silent for a minute before sighing. “Because Eren always gets what he wants. And he’s wanted you for a long time.” He doesn’t sound all too happy about those supposed facts.

You clench your jaw. You’re expected to believe all these years of bullying was due to you never returning Eren’s feelings? Feelings he never made clear in the first place. You were terrified of him when you saw the other for the first time. He was brash and rude and loud, everything you hated and even then you tried to be friendly with him, no matter how insincere you were. Why is he acting like you kicked sand in his lunch box?

“I hate you both.” You grit through teeth. You ponder if you can run out the door fast enough but even then…they would find you the next day and the punishment would probably be worse.

“You seemed to be enjoying that.”

“Fuck off.”

Jean gets closer, tilting his head to get a better view of you. “You say you hate him but it didn’t seem like that. It never seemed like that.”

“W-what?”

“You were always attracted to him, weren’t you? Just too afraid to ever do something about it…you’ve never looked at me the way you look at him.” He mutters, like you’ve done him some great injustice. “Not even once.”

“Don’t worry, I hate you both equally.” You finally muster the words up. Especially after tonight.

Jean huffs as he grabs your wrist to which you immediately pull away as if he burned you and the action is enough to have clenching his jaw, eyes darkening. “I’ve been so patient.” He murmurs, the words almost sounding like a plea.

“So patient with you and him but he…” He runs his fingers through his hair. “He wasn’t supposed to do that. At least not yet.”

You back away, trying to stand on your shaking legs but he grabs you. “It was supposed to be me. It’s supposed to be only me who gets to make you feel that way y/n.” He stands up, hands clenched into fists.

“You were supposed to be mine only.”

The words only make you nauseous. You were wrong, they’re both equally insane, equally deranged. You need to get out of here, need to go to the police and have them both locked up for their sick perversions.

Footsteps have you both tensing up, slowly looking towards the hallway to see Eren coming back. He laughs, shoulders shaking as he walks over. He doesn’t look angry but then again, he can switch his emotions in a second.

Jean looks almost scared, not bothering to say anything even as Eren mockingly pinches his cheek. “Jean, don’t be so selfish.” He puts an arm around his shoulder, leering at you. Both looking like sick predators.

“We can always share her.”

LEVI

Life in the Survey Corps is disastrous enough without constant berating and belittling from someone who's supposed to be encouraging you.

And if not encouragement, then at least not outright bullying from the Captain.

You don't know what it is but from day one, he's held a strong sense of...well you don't want to say hatred but as the weeks go by of your training, it seems like he would rather have you six feet under than learning from him.

From the moment he saw your expensive clothing and fancy shoes, he had decided then and there you were a no good rich girl who only wanted to join because of some half assed rebellion you were having. And that pissed you off. You didn't join because you wanted to rebel against your parents nor because of guilt of having more luxurious amenities than your fellow cadets. You wanted to fight for your home and people.

But he had made up his mind about you and well fine, you could live with him not respecting you but to go out of his way every time his demeaning eyes landed on you was proving to be too much.

Take now for example.

Back in your prestigious academy, you were top of your class, being graced with renowned resources that your fellow Outer Wall cadets have never even heard of but here it seems you were a fish out of water. Especially with him staring at you like you were nothing but dirt under his shoes.

To be skilled at 3DMG you needed flexibility, a sense of determination. Boldness you simply don't have when Levi is standing a few feet away from you, already having made up his mind that you suck at this before you even get into the gear.

But it seems he was right as you struggle to remember the demonstrations shown to you just a few minutes ago. You kick and lash and thrash around but your limbs never find the hold they're looking for. It's fucking embarrassing, made even worse as yells from the crowd now formed around you increase. "Center your core!" Krista yells, trying to help but only making the humiliation worse.

You're upside down now, panting as you try to catch your breath. It's pointless. You groan, what is he even doing here? Since when does he train the students in 3DMG? You bite your tongue at the fact the reason he suddenly decided he wasn't above this is because he knew it would be your first day on this field and he couldn't pass up an opportunity to see you fail.

How did she even get into this Rank?

She's bringing us down.

Her daddy probably paid someone off.

You can hear all different kinds of demeaning whispers from the crowd, from people who are supposed to be your comrades. Levi finally speaks, taking a break from staring at you with that blank expression that you just know is hiding a look of disgust. "Everyone back inside." He demands, arms crossed over his chest.

"But we're not done yet!" Ymir scoffs, glaring at you.

"We are if I say we are." He tsks. "Annoying brat." He mutters under his breath before walking over to you.

It's hard to get away when you're stuck upside down but that doesn't stop the hairs from rising on your skin, anxiety threatening to eat away at you as he walks closer and your comrades walk away. Leaving you fully in his mercy.

Just fucking great.

He's dropping you from the gear in a flash and you ungracefully land on your hands and knees, winching at the hard contact you make with the grass underneath you. You quickly stand up, not wanting to give him the satisfaction but you can already see the corner of his lip twitching.

"You are truly a disgrace, y/n." He mutters.

You say nothing, knowing it will only make matters worse as he stares at you. You ignore the dread in your stomach as he stalks around you, "How can you expect to go out into the real world when you're this pathetic?"

You clench your jaw. "Others did worse than me!" You burst out before you can stop yourself, hands clenching tightly.

He walks back in front of you, raising an eyebrow at your childish outburst as if bullying a cadet isn't the mere definition of immature.

"Why do you only ever have an issue with me? It's annoying." You should've stopped from the second you exploded at him but like always, he just infuriates you too much. "You knew I wouldn't be ready after twisting my ankle the other day but you still made me do this, I know you enjoy torturing me but—" A shriek escapes your lips as his fingers suddenly grip your hair, tightening around the strands as he pulls.

"You think too highly of yourself. I am not bullying you, you insolent little brat. I am making sure you don't get my cadets killed because you were too weak to fight because of what, a twisted ankle? His laugh sends a shiver down your spine. "Soldiers have lost limbs and you're complaining about your stupid fucking ankle?" He throws you on the ground and before you can collect yourself, his foot is hovering over your ankle.

Your eyes widen but before you can even let a word out, he's stepping on it. You quickly bite your lip, holding the scream that's threatening to leave your mouth and embarrass you even further. Fuck, it hurts.

He twists his foot, applying more unbearable pressure to your injured ankle. "Does it hurt?" He sneers. "You know what hurts more? Being torn apart by drooling freaks."

Your nails dig into the dirt, lip tearing from you refusing to cry out. But he presses and twists his foot, until you’re shaking, until a small cry escapes your lips. Until he wins.

"Stop!" You scream after your defeat, struggling to get away from his hold.

He scoffs, finally relenting. "Go muck out the stables."

Despite the burning hatred deep in your guts and the aching pain in your ankle, you're fine. You don't considering mucking out the stables a punishment despite that being his intention.

You love seeing the horses, it's the only silver lining in this dark path you've chosen for yourself. You smile as large, dark eyes blink at you once you get closer to the stables, taking in the sheer beauty. Back home, riding horses would always be your favorite hobby.

It was the one time a day you felt happy, free from all the stress and responsibilities your parents put on you.

You run your hands along his blonde hair, taking in how elegant and striking he looks. For a second, you ponder taking a saddle and riding him. It would be just like old times and heavens knows you need it. Before you can entertain the thought even more, you hear footsteps behind you.

You tense, fearing it's Levi but you let out a sigh of relief as Armin walks up. He's holding an apple and for a second you think it's for the horse but he hands it to you. You blink down at the fruit. "Thanks?" You mumble as you take it.

"We both know he won't be letting you eat tonight."

Your eyes widen, already knowing who the he is. "How'd you know?"

He chuckles, awkwardly scratching his neck. "I'm an observant guy and well Captain Levi doesn't really seem to like you. Well he never likes the new recruits but he seems to really...have an issue with you." His cheeks are blushing furiously with every word that comes out of his mouth.

"And I've noticed sometimes he takes your meals away when you mess up during training which is..."

"A lot?" You scoff, rolling your eyes.

He quickly shakes his head. "No, I wasn't going to say that!"

"It's okay." You sigh. "I know I suck but I'm improving! But he acts like I'm the worst freaking cadet and it's so freaking annoying." You groan, hand clenching around the apple. "I mean, would it kill him to say great job once in a while or at least not look at me like I'm worse than the damn Titans?!"

Armin seems to be pitying you as he pats your back, a comfort he seems to immediately regret as he yanks his hand away like he's just been burned. "S-sorry!" He gasps, taking a step back.

You laugh, "I'm not contaminated, Armin."

"I know....obviously you're not! It's just...well..."

You raise an eyebrow, realization slowly dawning on you. Back in Mitras, you were quite popular—a stark contrast to your life here. And with popularity comes the pack of lovesick boys who just have to profess their crush for you. And every single one of them had the same look that's currently resided on Armin's face right now.

"Armin." You start, doing nothing to stop the shameless smile now forming on your face. "Do you have a crush on me?"

It seems that was the absolute worst question to ask. His breath hitches, frantically shaking his head. "What?" He wheezes. "Where did you get that idea from? I don't—I—"

You stifle a laugh, walking closer to him. "It's okay." You try to reassure him. "You're cute." It's a shameless and pathetic attempt at flirting but it's not like you have many romantic options here. Half the boys in your class are useless and the other male population you're even allowed to interact with are off fighting Titans. And it's not like you can bat your eyelashes at your superiors.

"I am?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah." You smile, walking over to where the saddles are, knowing it's a bad idea but still placing it on the horse. You're going to get punished tomorrow anyways for whatever Levi deems is unfit so might as well actually have some fun before the asshole comes. "Do you want to join me for a ride?"

"Uhm...yes?" He chokes, watching as you lead the horse further out of the stables.

You straddle him, looking down at the blonde. Armin looks like he's about to pass out, cheeks a dangerous shade of red as he tries to muster up some words. He's seconds away from taking your hand and getting on the horse but the sound of footsteps have you both freezing in your place.

All the color drains from your face as you look up to see Levi standing there, “Stealing Survey Corps property is a crime.”

You get down from the horse, throat dry. “I wasn’t stealing.” Is all you can say. Armin is right besides you, about to come to your honor but the Captain waves his hand. “Leave Arlert.” He says, sounding almost bored but you can see the fury in his face. No matter how hard he tries to hide it.

Armin looks over at you, obviously not wanting to leave you in the mercy of the man everyone in this damn city fears but it’s pointless. When Levi gives an order, you obey.

He slowly retreats, head cast down as he starts walking away. “Don’t be too hard on her.” Is all he squeaks before leaving.

His eyes burn into your skin and you conveniently ignore his gaze, keeping your head down. You hope this tantrum will be a fast one, you don’t have it in you to deal with another discipline so fast. You weren’t going to steal a fucking horse if that much wasn’t obvious enough but he could care less about sensible facts whenever it comes to you.

“Instead of taking responsibility for your thievery, you make excuses.” He walks closer, arms clasped behind his back. “You can’t fight, can’t use the gear correctly, and now a liar and a thief. Not to mention acting like a whore around your comrades.”

You ears perk up at that last comment. “Excuse me?” You glare into his eyes.

“Was that how it worked for you back then? You would bat those eyelashes and everything would fall into your lap?” He sneers.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re a brat. A spoiled one at that.”

“And what about you?” You ask, not caring at how rude you sound. “You’re always spewing insults at me when you’re the worst of them all. Harassing a innocent cadet who’s just trying—”

“You’re barely a cadet.” He snorts.

“And you’re nothing but a bully!”

His infamous agility is used before your own eyes as his fingers wrap around your throat, pushing you against the wall. “Clean the fucking stables, that’s all you had to do. But instead you decide to disobey me and run off with fucking Arlert and now you’re insulting me? Do you want to get kicked out, huh brat?”

Scrambling to get away from his punishing grip on your throat, your nails dig into his hands. It’s quick, how easy it is to be on the brink of passing out. He knows exactly what correct pressure point to press as he squeezes. You gasp out, practically clawing at his knuckles now. “L-luh-let go!” You manage to get out.

Black dots form in your vision and despite all the struggling, it’s useless to win against this brute. “Levi!” You cry out and it seems the gears in his head finally start working again as he lets go.

He steps back, letting out an annoyed sigh as he stretches his fingers. You fall onto your knees, heaving onto the ground.

“You’re infuriating.” He says more to himself. “Why can’t you ever listen? From day one I told you that you didn’t belong here.”

“But instead you pay no attention to my words. Instead you stay and drive me fucking insane. Instead you flirt with everyone who has a pair of balls in this fucking place.”

You stand up, palm on the wall for support as you rub your aching throat. For a minute you’re too scared to talk, for how he’ll react and for the sound that will come out of your mouth but then you remember that frankly you don’t give a shit. “I wasn’t flirting, you asshole! I was having a simple conversation with a friend, something I know you aren’t familiar with but doesn’t mean you have to take your anger out on me.”

He just stands there, jaw clenched as you’re forced to stare into depths of blue-gray. They’re chilling, the way he looks at you. It’s always enough to have you second guess your actions, have goosebumps forming and your legs shaking.

He’s moving closer, terrifyingly so and there’s no way to run. You’re stuck between him and the wall, your body hitting it with a loud thud. Your nails scrape against the wall. “Why do you even care who I talk to? I’m trying to get better. I’m training day and night and a little nudge in the right direction wouldn’t hurt every once in a while but all you ever do is belittle me. It’s so—”

“So what?”

“Mean.”

His eyebrows furrow, eyes looking sharp enough to murder someone as he responds. “I’m not mean.” He replies, as if that’s the worst thing you could’ve possibly said to him.

As if he hasn’t been the one tormenting you since the day you met. “You’re just spoiled.” He says like it’s the simple truth. “Never went a day without someone caring for you, doing everything for you. No one has probably even raised their voice at you.”

You bite your lip, hating the way those are true. Why should you be ashamed of that? You were cared for as a child, it’s not something that should be used against you but the way Levi talks, it makes you feel like you’re nothing but a spoiled baby.

“I’m not mean. You’re just weak.”

You refuse to let the tears form, instead letting out a shaky sigh. “At least I’m trying to get better. To fight for my people. At least I’m not an old man attacking—”

“No, you’re just a shameless whore.”

Your mouth gapes open, landing a singular punch on his chest without thinking twice. You should regret it…you think you already do the second your fist makes contact with him. You’re already ready to bolt out of there but he’s grabbing you by the wrist. Stopping you in your tracks.

It’s not as harsh as it could’ve been. His fingers just stay there, wrapped around you.

“Why do you care who I interact with?” You ponder aloud, snatching your hand away from his hold. Is he really not going to retaliate for that punch?

“I don’t want you distracting my cadets.” He answers, eerily calm. It’s a bullshit excuse and you can see right through it.

“By being friendly?” You scoff, ready to accuse him of being an idiot but you stop in your tracks. “Would you rather it was you I batted my eyelashes at Captain?” You don’t know where the bravery came from. You’ve said countless questionable things to the Captain but never something as…suggestive as that.

Why else would he care so much? The bullying part yeah whatever he thinks you’re useless and spineless but why the hell should he care if you’re flirting with someone? Unless the old man has some weird crush on you.

It’s a ludicrous thought.

But you know it’ll piss him off. And that’s enough to act on it.

He grabs your chin in a flash and you’re already preparing yourself for the hit that’s going to come but nothing happens. Instead he just stands there, softly holding you as he tilts his head. Were you actually right??

His lips hover over your jaw and cheeks, never touching but you can feel his breath on your skin. Your pulse is pounding, heart hammering to the point you can’t hear anything. What is he playing at? You gulp, shivering a bit as his lips ghost over your ear. You wait anxiously for his next words, not liking the way you’re not entirely disgusted by his touch.

“One week of stable duty for your attempt at burglary, brat. Another for hitting a superior.”

He pulls away but only slightly, he stares like he’s eager to see the reaction you’re going to give. You’re in utter disbelief at the audacity of this bastard but to give him a visible reaction after he’s been torturing you all day is not on your to do list. “You keep abusing your power and I’ll have no choice but to go to the Commander.” You try to sound hardened but he’s left you a breathless mess.

He backs away, smiling at you. “One more week for backtalk.”

“That wasn’t backtalk!”

“Another week for more backtalk.”

You scream, hands clenched into fists as you try to not say a word.

He’ll always find a way to get the reaction he wants out of you, like it is some depraved need. “Screw you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Get back to work. And no more flirting with the comrades.” He walks away.

You stare daggers at his retreating form, wanting nothing more than to chuck the horse shit at him.

But despite the rage that’s seconds away from exploding inside of you, the thought of his fingers wrapped around your chin come back to haunt you, how his lips were inches away from making contact with you. How you weren’t pushing him away, disgusted with his actions. You don’t understand why you were so paralyzed.

It angers you more than anything the Captain has ever done.

#aot #aot x y/n #yandere #eren x y/n #eren x reader #eren x you #eren smut #jean x reader #jean x you #jean x y/n #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi x reader #attack on titan fic #yandere eren #yandere levi x reader #yandere jean #liz.💌

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shower-phantom-ideas · 2 years

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It starts with just the kids but people in amity start keeping blob ghosts as pets

I know this isnt a new idea but like i cant stop thinking about it

First its the high schoolers keeping them. Thing is its a secret so they all think their the only one breaking this rule. Scared of the Fentons finding out and all that. I mean the GIW are stupid but still have a lot of power over the people of Amity Park.

But once the other blob ghosts hear about this from the grape vine they starts flocking to Amity Park. Soon everyone is keeping a blob ghost in secret.

Of course Danny is gonna find out from the blobs but it works as like an alarm system more than anything. They want their human to be safe so when danger rises the rush straight to Danny for help protecting their human.

#look at that liz makes a post #lord its been ages but i finally might be done with my other hyperfixations #though tsp is still here #i think i finally got submas out my brain lol #wander over yander is trying to make a return too #but i think danny phantom can compete with this again #danny phantom #wholesomeness #idk how i tagged on this blog #all my other blogs are a solid tagging system lol #if yall are interested in any of those blogs (they are writing blogs) then let me know ill like ya #but for now they are hidden cause idk

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elryuse · 11 months

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#ive leeseo #kpop #ive liz #ive starship #ive gaeul #ive yujin #ive wonyoung #ive rei #ive leesoo #yandere #pick an image #pick a card

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ynsvnte · 2 months

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Mr. Yang, Is that you?: Masterlist

Synopsis: You were playing Roblox until you started having beef with one player that goes by the name “mryangslays193” determined to beat the player in the game. What happens if you go to class and find out it’s your crush Yang Jungwon who is the owner of the account ..?

Pairing: crush!jungwon x fem!reader

Featuring: Sunoo & Niki, Zb1 Gyuvin, kep1er youngeun, weeekly jaehee, IVE Liz.

Genre: classmates to friends to lovers, crack, fluff, angst, Roblox, smau, college au

Warnings: swearing, mean jokes, teasing, kms/kys jokes, individual warnings will be added.

Status: On-going

Started: March 7 Ended: tba

Taglist: Open (send ask or comment to be added)

Notes: hey… 😏 Roblox theme bc Roblox 4 life. Umm I just finished my last smau that took 3 MONTHSSSS (shouldn’t have) ummm I excited where this one goes and I hope it doesn’t take long like ttsd 🙄 written chapters like usual

Profiles: BADDIES 🤺 , SHEva love club, privs

Chapters:

Preview

1. Sleek the weak

2. AYO WHAT THE-

3. Mr Yang Yang better watch out

4. He wants MEEE

5. HE IS WHO!?!

6. Nah I’m out

7. Crack and Snap

8. Yandere era

9. Uh oh stinky

10. On my soul

11. So you’ll admit it?

12. RAHH (in smol)

13. Bro needs to be stopped

14. I.h.h.a

15. NEW HAIR NEW TEE NEW MAN!? — written and smau

16. won = sad

17. More to be added …

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exodusin · 2 years

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DATING TEEN!MICHAEL AFTON HEADCANONS!

˖ ݁ ˓ — g. teen romance ♡

the eighteen year old boy with a fox fursona? boy he is a handful.

but so romantic

every friday night michael will take you to the late-night drive-in movies. if there’s a kissing scene don’t be surprised when he clangs onto you and starts kissing all over your face <3

take my breath away by berlin is your guys’ love song because I said so

your first date is at a skating rink, you were both clumsy at first but got the hang of it the more you two practiced together

play fighting is a childish teen thing that just happens, play fights are his thing so just play along with it. Although, if he does hurt you on accident he’ll apologize over and over until your reassurance finally sits right with him

He may be a bully but he's not a monster

he loves showing you off, his hand always intertwining with yours, or arm wrapped around your waist

you do something awesome in public he’ll be like “Hell Yeah! That's my boy/my girl/my love of my life!”

if you tried once to scare him out of nowhere with his foxy mask, he'd laugh at you thinking it's more adorable than ‘scary’

payback. you walked around the woods of the neighborhood and surprise surprise, the afton’s were your neighbors. your peace had to be ruined when your boyfriend thought it’d be funny to scare you unexpectedly with that hideous foxy mask just to see that reaction of yours. he finds your reaction hilarious- also your fear is adorable- so just to make it up to he’ll hold you and kiss your faces with whispering ‘apologies’ while snorting out laughs- your reaction always getting him

corny 80s teen love coming- he would visit you at night knocking on your window and immediately pull you into a passionate kiss

You both had a fight? He would play your guys’ love song on a boombox outside your house as an apology- with a loving pleading face saying “I hate arguing, I love you so much. You mean the world to me.”

He gets jealous— very easily. Like this boy loves you so much it’s insane- not the yandere type but the type where he loves you and can’t think of a world where you guys aren’t together. His father abuses and him and you are the light of his life. You are his moon more than his sun because the moon brights up the darkness

michael is crazy for you- his friends would tease him a lot but his reply will be “Shut up you doormats!” typical 80s bully boy insults.

will leave little gifts in your locker— packs of gum of your fav flavor, love notes, and just doodles he did for you :)

speaking of lockers, expect, like almost everyday, the pinning against you onto your locker and a pair of lips that are slightly chapped but with pleasant flavor of bubblegum. Michael would always smirk at your flushed state then nuzzle his forehead against yours mumbling soft ‘I love yous’

He would win you any prizes you wanted in Fredbear’s family diner or Freddy Fazbear’s pizza with his great gaming arcade skills

For christmas he gave you an album of your fav artist with a sticky note saying, “I love you. I love you so fucking much. One day we will run away, get married, dance to songs in our big ass living room, and grow old together.”

He would steal things or snacks just for you.

Most of the time you guys argue for the dumbest stuff but seconds later a heated make-out happens.

he likes it when you wear his leather bracelets or shirts because it just gives him the euphoria to know your his.

before going on dates, he would style his mullet and practice his introduction when he sees you and Liz will walk in making fun of his love struck love for you which will result Michael saying, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

poor boy was humiliated when his sister told you what Michael does before your dates

©MISSD1VINE 2022 — do not copy, steal & re-write my work. if you want to write something inspired off my works plz ask permission. 🛼

#fnaf #fnaf x reader #fnaf 4 #five nights at freddy's #fanfic #michael afton x reader #michael afton #micheal afton x reader #teen michael afton #headcanons #fnaf fanfic #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 6 months

Note

Hello, hope you are having a wonderful day/night could I request Yan!Twst (any characters of your choice as long as it has either Malleus or Idia) with a dtk!reader (soul eater) and Liz and Patty's reactions to it

Also can Character and reader be in a relationship for Liz and Patty's reaction?

Apologize if this is too much!

Dating Death The Kid Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Being in a relationship with you is a dream come true and one step to the future they all want with you. Too bad you still have your partners who aren’t too keen on letting you run off be carried off into the sunset. Patrick and Liz know a thing or two about shoddy characters can your new boyfriend past the test:

Malleus Draconia

“So this is the guy yer all about?”

“Hey hey! He’s a bit freaky isn’t he!”

“He is perfectly symmetrical! Can’t you tell? See!? See!?”

“Yeah but I don’t want the guy to be some rich wackjob.”

“Pleasure meeting you two. I have every intention of remaining by (Y/n)’s side.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

He’s oddly on guard

He both wants their approval and doesn’t care

He’s heard you explain the soul connection you have with them

and he envies them

But surely magic beats whatever hold they have on you

Good thing he has his own protective crew willing to keep the duo at bay

All he knows is you will not be leaving him

Heir to Death or not

Idia Shroud

“Oh no its the normies you spoke of!”

“Ewww you had to get with the absolute geek? (Y/n), please.”

“He’s kind of a wet blanket—” “H-hey!?” “Hmm maybe its the face?”

“Patty, Liz I want to show Idy our fighting pose!”

He’s heard you recount your tales with your partners

And while he thinks its cool seeing you doublewielding guns and posing

But at what cost

You remind him often of his lacking personality and symmetry

But he can’t let you go back now

Not when he’s already deemed himself past the intimacy level

So its a shame but your partners have got to go

At least that way he can focus on being your only other half

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #yandere twst malleus #yandere twst #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia x reader #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere idia #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus twst #yandere malleus #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere malleus x reader #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland x soul eater

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 4 months

Note

Hey Liz, today marks a day after my birthday and I haven't cut a cake yet. My father forgot to buy me a cake which is okay i guess? Some people don't even get to cut it even once in their life, so what if this year is this way, but nonetheless I'm a little depressed, cried a little but I'm fine now..

Damon, Azreal and Amor have a special place in my heart so how about a tidbit where they see reader celebrating her birthday alone in the middle of a cold park? Hehe i think it'll cheer me up as my only birthday present this year ^^

Thanks, i love you and sorry if it's too much to ask, you can ignore it:)

-🌼

Yandere men and their Darling's lonely birthday

Aw 🌼anon, it's completely valid to feel like that. We all have our own problems and struggles, wants and desires. No need to degrade your own wants for others. Sure, it makes you somehow feel better, but sometimes thinking for yourself is okay.

Don't worry! I got your other ask correcting who the yanderes you wanted the scenarios with. But, as a small gift/bonus, I decided to add all of them!

Btw, happy belated birthday 🌼! May your days from here on out will be filled with mirth and joy, with little to no sad days (/^-^(^ ^*)/

ALSO FORGIVE ME, THE PLOT IS ALL ANGST AND I CAN'T TWIST IT TO A HAPPIER ONE--

YAN! ASSASSIN

Azrael, whistling due to another successful mission, had his mind set on finding his darling to celebrate. Although, there is a nagging feeling in his heart that he forgot something important.

Surely, if he forgot it, it's not that important. Right?

It was already night time when he passed by the abandoned park. He saw a figure in there, softly singing happy birthday to themself.

"Pfft. Loser." Azrael rolled his eyes before jogging towards the bakery to find the perfect cake to celebrate.

It was warm inside, a stark contrast to the snowy cityscape outside. It felt like a whiplash from the difference of the temperature, but did it feel good.

He remembered the figure celebrating their birthday in the park once more. He felt bad for them, so he bought hot chocolate for them to drink up with.

But, as he paid for the food, he realized he's feeling bad for a stranger. A stranger.

Strange.

The bell rang once he got out. His eyebrows scrunched up as he slowly walked towards the park. The snow scrunching beneath him.

It felt like cold water was splashed onto him when he realized something was amiss.

No, someone was amiss.

There was his darling, eating cake in the cold winter by themself. He felt his blood run cold as he's rooted to the floor. His eyes followed their movement. The way their hands slightly tremble as they used a plastic fork to eat cake. Their lips chapped and cracked from the cold.

"Darling..." He whispered, slowly going to him.

He forgot his darling's birthday...

He knelt in front of you, who was surprised to see him. You cleared your throat, clearly not wanting the pity.

"I am so sorry..." He whispered, his hand clutching his chest. His eyes wide as tears slowly formed. "I forgot your birthday. The day you were given to me..."

He didn't even ask you why you didn't tell him, why you're celebrating outside, or why you're alone.

"Darl, I got cake here too. Here! Hot chocolate. drink it. Please." Azrael whispered, siding with you and making sure that his body heat overwhelmed you.

He kissed your head, hugging your body.

Were you this small against his frame?

You were usually so cold and high strung. But in this case, even if you were complaining, guilt ate him up so much as he buried his lips on yours.

Forgive me for forgetting darling. Forgive me...

YAN! JOCK Damon bursts through the gym doors, irritated and angry by the fact that his coach extended practice for him. He didn't even bother hiding his real self as his fellow teammates pursed their lips, scared by the sudden change in Damon.

"Damon! Get back here!" The captain yelled, not aware of the sudden rage surging through his blood.

"You don't order me! You hear?!" Damon, filled with trepidation, roared out at the now stunned captain. "Because of you... Because of coach... FUCK!"

He didn't even grab his bag. Only the giant gift bag as he ran through the railings and hedges towards the parking lot.

Hopping on his motorcycle, he revved it up and sped out. He didn't even hear the guard yelling at him. All he knew is that you were waiting for him.

His jaw ticked with worry. Eyes now filled with agitation as his heart pumped through his chest.

You were already waiting for two hours.

TWO HOURS.

His phone was dead. With no outlets available, and with his useless teammates not having their phones with them too, he was dreading the clock as it ticks by.

He almost ran over people and had a huge risk of crashing on a truck just to get to you.

He didn't even bother parking in the right spot once he got to the park.

His legs, powerful as they may, felt so slow as he ran through the park's entrance.

He's so close. Please, please... He hopes you're still there.

Then, he saw a familiar head of hair.

Damon froze, before shaking off of his daze immediately.

Turning to his right, he pushed pass annoyed people and onto the denser parts of the park.

And there you are.

You don't even look sad, annoyed, or angry.

You're just quietly playing with the half eaten bento cake. You didn't even care that people were staring at you with pity, or worse, mockery.

And, when Damon arrived with a gift bag, they assumed the worse and whispered quietly amongst themselves.

He flushed red before walking towards you.

"Hey... I'm sorry i'm late..." He almost punched himself. That's the first thing he says?!

"It's okay." You sighed before shrugging. "Really."

Guilt ate him up alive as he felt the distance between you two widened greatly.

You felt so out of reach that it's almost dizzying to think of.

He shakily handed you the gift, which you gently took without a word or a peep.

"Thanks."

"I... I'm truly sorry. I swear it's not my fault. The coach, the captain, they held me back and I just..." He tried to reason, but you only smiled.

A formal, heartachingly distant smile.

Please don't leave me...

YAN! PLAYER (Genuinely speaking, Amor wouldn't forget your birthday. If he himself forgot, the gods would remind him. But if he did...)

Amor clutched his head.

He just woke up and the gods are bombarding him with messages. So mixed that he can't decipher the messages properly.

But all of them had the same tune.

"It's Y/N's birthday!"

Amor felt his heart squeeze in pain.

It's his darling's birthday?!

How could he forget?

How dare he sleeps through it?!

He scrambled upwards and to the end table. Almost hitting his skull on the headboard as he read the time.

The suddenly felt so cold when he realized it's already 10pm.

How much did he drink that he only got to wake up now?

He didn't waste any time. He immediately grabbed his coat and wore his pants. He didn't even pay attention to his butler as he made a mad dash towards the parking lot.

"God! Why is the mansion so big?!" He yelled throughout the house, his voice echoing his paranoia, announcing in the middle of the night.

When he reached the parking lot, he's already a mess. He got to the nearest car and slammed the door shut once he got inside.

The gods buzzed in his ear again, calling him useless as he could just use their powers.

"SHUT UP! I'M ALREADY PANICKING, ALRIGHT?!" For the first time in his years in this life, he felt so helpless as he bangs his head on the stirring wheel. "Please... Just tell me where they are?"

The gods whispered before one of them finally got the location.

"The park? Alright. Why are they... Whatever."

Stomping on the accelerator, he drove through the weavings of cars inside the parking lot before impatiently honking at the large garage vault door to open.

"OPEN THE GATES!" He yelled through the intercom when he passed by the garage intercom so he could just speed through without waiting for the gates to open.

It felt like a blur as he zoomed through the city. His head was spinning from the ache in his heart as he stopped at the parking lot.

He took his time, biting his already broken nails as he sped walk through the park. He doesn't even know why you were there. Maybe you had a party there?

He's hopeful. Even if he's getting insanely jealous from the prospect of you being with someone else, it was much better than being...

"Alone..." Amor whispered, his eyes glazing over with overwhelming love and pain at seeing you singing by yourself in a somewhat cheerful way.

Were you always this alone?

"Hi..." He cleared his throat, his heart aching as you looked up at him with a pleasant and excited surprise.

You looked so happy seeing him. His heart yearned to ease your loneliness.

"Uh hi, I was just passing by. And couldn't help but hear it's your birthday!" He tried to cheerfully say, but the edge of sadness was evident and he wished that you can't hear it. "And I figured hey, it's my favorite barista's birthday. Why not celebrate it! Come on, my treat. You can get all of the gifts you want!"

He gave a wide grin, now a small seed of hope planting inside of him as your eyes now held a genuine happiness in them.

I will spoil you greatly, darling. Never you will be lonely again.

YAN! VILLAIN Eros sighed, massaging his temples as he looked through the mountain of work in front of him, now reduced to a small stack.

He's happy that he got through the work the new Emperor gave him. After all, the ascension to the throne is never not the busy one. Everything needs to be smooth for the new ruler.

Once he finished, he called for his butler to give all the documents to the palace by tomorrow.

Eros got out of the room and summoned a shadow, ordering it to see what you're doing right now.

The nagging feeling that he forgot something was so strong though. He knew that something was wrong, and he just can't shake it off.

He found himself going to his room and his walk in closet, picking at the seems of one of his suits for a ball.

Then, his shadow returned.

He paled.

He hastily wore the suit, desperately yelling for maids to get inside to help him wear the outfit.

It's your birthday banquet today?! How could he forget?!

And if it's your birthday banquet, then the prince...

As the maids, confused yet still doing what he's ordering to, retouched his face, he couldn't help but feel his overprotectiveness surge through his body.

"Okay, that's enough! Out, now!" The maids bowed before scurrying away.

"Where is it?! Where is it?!"

He finally found the jewelry box in his drawer. Grabbing his late mother's (Ugh) necklace, he hastily found a velvet box to put it in.

The necklace, passed down to women of his family, will be given to you in your "anniversary"

But he doesn't give a damn about that anymore.

Swallowed by his shadows, he appeared in front of your chateau and marched upwards the stairs.

He ignored the people who greeted him, but their eyes were telling him that something happened.

"Announcing, Duke Eros!"

His eyes scanned around the ball and zeroed on Yuno and Elysia dancing in the middle of the ball. No remorse as this fiance of yours paraded his mistress.

He felt sick.

And where are you?!

He made a mad dash towards the middle and pushed away Elysia before grabbing Yuno by the collar, making the people gasp in fear.

"You fucker. You're dancing with your mistress in your fiancee's ball?! How low could you go?!" He yelled, making the people bow their heads in shame, including Yuno.

He threw Yuno to the ground, glared at Elysia, before going outside the mansion.

"Sweetheart! I'm here! Where are you?" He yelled, looking around the gardens.

He heard your soft weeps, and his protectiveness surged through him.

"Sweetheart! Where are y-- there you are." He gulped, seeing your teary eyes look up at him. His heart clenched. "What happened?"

"That lowly woman!" You spoke through unbridled tears. "She dares humiliate me on my own birthday? Telling the whole ball she slept with..."

You didn't even finish talking when you felt queasy to the stomach from the memory.

"And you... I thought you'll protect me?" You whispered, eyes brimming once more with tears. "I felt so helpless there. Their eyes felt so forebodding..."

As you sobbed through the pain, Eros's heart ached for you.

With shaky hands, he opened the velvet box and gently made you wear it. The cold jewel felt oddly warm on your skin as your senses were filled with his scent.

"I truly apologize for not being there to protect you." He whispered, brushing away your hair. "Now, shall we go back inside to let Yuno and Elysia see who are they messing with?"

I promise to protect you always, Darling. So cry in my arms, i'll brush those tears away.

YAN! HOSPITAL CHAIRPERSON

(It won't make sense for you to be in a park since you did get unwittingly imprisoned in his mansion. So, I adjusted a bit.)

Xavier had another tiring day in the hospital. It was annoying, as the stakeholders are continuously badgering him to expand his business to other ventures.

He already has his hands full with the hospitals and clinics. What more if he decided to go beyond the medical field?

He groans, driving through the night back home.

Once he got to the house though, he caught a whiff of something sweet.

Cake.

"Oh no..."

He rushed to the kitchen, not even sanitizing first.

There he saw you. Your head buried on your arms as you sat in front of the island counter. An unlit birthday cake in front of you.

It was cold, dark. The only light there is the moon illuminating your sad and lonely figure.

A cry was about to claw out of his throat as he slowly approach you.

"Hi... How's my birthday celebrant?" He winced, the shame and self anger evident on his voice. "S-surely I didn't make you wait too long..."

In denial.

Then he noticed the liquor bottles in the sink. Two bottles, empty.

He can smell the alcohol on your body. The island had a puddle of wetness too, clear and leading up to your cheeks.

A sob threatened to get out of his body as he hugged your figure.

"I'm sorry for coming home so late..." He whispered, kissing your head. "I really thought you won't want to celebrate with me... I guess i'm wrong."

He watches your body rise and fall, fully asleep and drunk.

"Let's celebrate tomorrow. No, the whole week." He whispers, putting the cake in the fridge before gently carrying you upstairs to your room.

I'll make it up to you, completely. So, sleep tight, love.

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #yandere imagines #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Text

PLATONIC! YANDERE SIBCON! DEATH THE KID x READER

888 FOLLOWER SPECIAL (Thank you all so much!)

warnings: incest but as a joke. reader is biologically related to dtk, death and asura so they implicitly look alike. reader is described as perfectly symmetrical. angst.

status: unedited.

Your father couldn’t have been more blatant when it came to favoritism. It was always [Y/N] this, and [Y/N] that. As the youngest out of all your siblings you were given special priority as a child up until the present.

‘[Y/N] is just the cutest, can’t you see?’

What was even worse was that Kid absolutely enabled such behavior.

Instead of being bitter like a normal person, he joined in on the spoiling.

You wouldn’t have minded it if it was just that. Who wouldn’t love to be spoiled by gods themselves?

But Kid always piled nagging on top of it all. In fact, it was twice as much as how he’d drown you in gifts.

‘[Y/N], fix your posture! What if you get back problems at a young age?!’

You were slouching for just a moment. In your room. Alone. How’d he even get in—

‘[Y/N] what is with your hair ? Your symmetry, it’s ruined!’

You only had a single lock of hair out of place. You had just woken up. Your breakfast was abandoned as he had yanked you to take a bath and style your hair.

“[Y/N]—“

“兄上!” You yelled. Swerving your body so fast that you almost fell down just to meet him eye to eye. You took a deep breath first, calming yourself as to keep your voice steady. “Please leave me alone. Aren’t you supposed to be away on a mission ? “

“But—“

“They’re right, Kid. Besides the sooner we wrap things up the sooner you’ll get to hang out with [Y/N]-様” Liz came to your rescue. Honestly if it weren’t for her, you were sure Kid would have been literally glued to you with how clingy he could be. He treated you like the most entrancing painting there could ever be, as if a second not looking at you would kill him.

At the realization of such an idea. Kid finally composed himself and dashed off. With not a farewell or goodbye wave in sight.

“Don’t worry, [Y/N]-様! We gotcha covered.” Patty squeezed your cheeks. Even she wasn’t immune to your cute charms.

“My wish to be left alone extends to the both of you. ”

“Eek!” The two teleported 5 feet away from you as they heard the tone of your voice. Despite being a powerless Shinigami, your presence demanded fear and respect. You were known for being an even more uptight version of your brother which was an achievement in itself.

“R-right! On our way!”

ii.

As the son of the embodiment of law and order. Death the Kid had a terrifying obsession with perfection. Particularly the perfection that is symmetry. The beauty of balanced reflection in its most immaculate form. The aesthetic of faultless proportions and details that make the whole so pleasing to the eyes.

The aesthetic of you.

It was natural for siblings to lovingly hate each other’s existence. Kid has literally battled his own brother.

But in that principle’s wake was your existence.

His passion to beat Asura seemed so human, so insignificant when it came to you.

Unlike him you had no ‘Lines of Sanzu’ and was thus never considered to be a candidate to become a Death God. You were never a threat. So he had no problem accepting his Father’s doting nature towards you.

You were always so cute. Always working hard for a future you wanted. A future that’ll never be yours. Your ambition was so infectious that along with succeeding his father, he wanted to be perfect for you.

You only deserved the best brother. One who had his lines completed. One that didn’t look like ugly, asymmetrical pig that he was in the present.

You weren’t home, as always. But Kid had gotten skilled at finding where you are. Call it his brotherly instincts but the most it would take for him to find you was a day.

You were gone for a month.

When Kid found you, you looked even more aggrieved than usual. The scowl on your face made heavier when you saw him.

The talk on the way back home was awkwardly silent. Despite that he still cherished the moment. It was rare to have someone as amazing as you alone all to himself.

“兄上?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you such a creep?”

“[Y-Y/N] . . . “ You gaze at your brother as crocodile tears fell from his beautiful face.

“If I disappeared that means I don’t want people to look for me. So don’t waste your time searching. Why can’t you understand that I want to be alone?”

“But—“

“Look for me and I’ll hate you. More than I already do.”

“You . . . hate me ?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” You blew a strand out of your face that Kid often waxed to keep things ‘perfect’. Surprised that he doesn’t comment on it. His eyes have completely dimmed.

“. . . No . . .”

“If you died I wouldn’t care. At all. So don’t extend your sympathy towards me. It’s disgusting not to mention patronizing.” The distance between you two grew more as he stayed still and you kept walking.

Your final words to him goes unheard at that point. “You’re the next God of Death. Respectfully speaking, act like one.”

Kid couldn’t stop thinking about your words from before. Siblings naturally had love-hate relationships. But hearing you say that up front still left him shaken.

During battle, he kept muttering and muttering, completely unfocused. He would have been hurt terribly if it weren’t for the others shoving him around. Even then, he didn’t so much as budge as he was thrown to a wall. “No . . . it couldn’t be . . . have they perhaps . . . “

“What’s up with him?” Black Star stared at him while cleaning his nose with his pinky. The fight wasn’t dire at the very least and he was used to Kid’s unorthodox personality, but this time the young Shinigami was somehow more out of it than usual.

“Less talking, more fighting.” Maka scolded. She had long since given up trying to get Kid to fight and instead instructed Liz and Patty to wield each other. It wasn’t ideal but it was at least functional, unlike a certain raven-haired young man right now.

“That’s it! They must’ve hit puberty!” Death the Kid suddenly shouted. The side of his fist hits his palm as a lightbulb switches on in his mind.

“Not this again . . . “ Liz rolled her eyes. She tried moving him from an incoming attack but he doesn’t budge an inch.

“Oh, my poor [Y/N] they must be so confused! They don’t hate me, it’s just that I’ve been lacking as a brother!” His eyes sparkled at the revelation that hit him. “I must go back and tell them how much I love them!” He took off, forsaking the rest to find [Y/N].

He gets about a meter away before Liz carried him back.

“Nuh-uh. We have a kishin to take down!”

“My sibling takes priority!” He flailed around in her arms, slapping her in the process.

“Even I’m not like this towards Patty. You need to stop worrying about them so much. You’re more like a nagging wife at this point! Face it, Kid. They don’t like you much less want you around all the time.” Liz scolded him. Getting more and more irritated at his behavior by the second. You’d think she’d get used to his sibcon tendencies, but it still managed to amaze her how little he cared for anything but [Y/N].

“Oh no . . . what have you done?” Maka covered her mouth in shock.

“H-Huh? What do mean? I just talked some sense into—“ Liz doesn’t notice he stopped thrashing til he screeched into her ears.

“That’s it! You’re a genius Liz!”

“I am?”

“In order to keep my baby sibling safe and sound I have to marry them!”

“Wait what— That’s not what I meant—“

“I’ll get the papers sorted right away!”

And he’s gone. Poof. Just like that. Liz completely frozen in place.

“I pray [Y/N]-様 extends you their mercy.” Tsubaki, now in her human form, bowed. Genuinely fearing for Liz’s well-being.

Patty, on the other hand, stuck her tongue out. “Bye Bye, sis!”

“Patty, not you too!”

iii.

MONTHS EARLIER…

Your Father was an eccentric being. He annoyed you to no end but thankfully not as much as your brother did.

You inherited his obsession with Peace. Something that you defined as moments that you were alone. Free to just exist and not worry about being perfect all the time. Peace to you was the lack of your brother, the embodiment of chaos.

You’ve always wished to be separated from him, but knowing there was a potential for that to actually happened gave you the first taste of fear.

Is this what humans felt? This adrenaline rush, this excitement? All that in addition to dread and sadness at the same time?

“Is it true?”

“What is it, my darling?”

“Is it true that when 兄上’s lines connect . . . you . . . “

“Where did you hear this, child?” Death moved forward. His large body shadowed yours.

You neither move away or closer. Instead you stayed still. Eyes firmly kept in place. On his.“Answer me, 父上.”

“Yes.” The god looked to the skies. Even he had a time to depart from this world. Death was something not even the divine can escape.

“Will I also . . . ?”

“I don’t know.” His large gloved hand extended to pat your head.

“Then he’ll be all alone?”

“Hopefully not. Are you worried for him—“

You replied before he could even finish, “Why would I be? He’s the one responsible for worrying between the two of us.”

Death then picked you up. Holding you close to his face.

“父上？”

“Yes, my darling?”

You said nothing, stepping forward to hold your creator in an embrace.

“I love you too, child.”

iv.

THE PRESENT…

“[Y/N]?”

Death the Kid isn’t human. Far from it. He’s a god. He represented Law and Order; Death.

But in the face of all this, his responsibilities, his status, his entire being. He feels so utterly meek, so awfully human when he was with you.

Gods aren’t supposed to have favorites. Gods are supposed to maintain a balance when it came to their affections over mortals.

But for you, and only for you. Kid lowers himself. To love, to fear, to worship.

“What?” Your small hands barely half the size of his reached to cup his face. “Spit it out, 豕.”

“Will you stay with me . . . for the rest of eternity?”

“You’re my family aren’t you? Of course I will.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. You’ll always be here for your brother.”

“Tch. Misplaced worries is a weakness, get rid of it.” Your hands moved to leave his face, but he doesn’t let it happen. Instead he traps it there, where it belonged.

“Anything for you, my dearest sibling.”

Right. Kid had nothing to worry about. You were here with him. Living, breathing. Still as perfect as you’ll ever be. You were all that he had. You were all that he needed.

Still. He could not shake away the feeling of nothingness within his heart.

Notes: [These are mostly for me + explanations so feel free to skip] Y/N uses formal speech and ways to call their family members.

For Kid they use, Aniue and for Death they call him Chichiue which means exalted or honorable brother and father respectively.

It’s only when they asked Death to answer them that they drop the formalities and use casual language. But even then they still call him exalted father.

From what I studied, formal speech in some situations can be quite rude and robotic. So despite seeming like they respect their fam they’re actually being condescending if not distant. I might be completely wrong though so feel free to correct me.

It’s kinda like going up to friend of yours for years and using the same extremely polite language you might use for strangers or seniors in work.

Lastly, in case you didn’t understand; in part iv DTK replaces [Y/N] but made them more childlike, completely changing the way they spoke. Mirroring the way Death created him to be a better version of Asura. Also 4 / IV sounds like Death in Japanese.

Anddd a little reminder that whenever I tag a character as Yandere that means they have unhealthy ways to love. Please do not romanticize or seek to replicate it in real life. Despite adoring his sibling, Kid subconsciously looks down on them and sees them as powerless. True love always comes with respect people. He also changes a ton of personality traits for the replacement, only keeping their looks and disdain towards him. He only ever ‘loved’ certain parts of them.

Thank you for reading and for the 888 (now 900+) followers!

TRANSLATIONS:

兄上 — Aniue — (Archaic) Exalted / Honorable Brother

様　— Sama — Formal suffix/honorific.

父上 — Chichiue — (Archaic) Exalted / Honorable Father

豕 — Buta — Pig

©️ hana-no-seiiki 2023

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flwersgarden · 1 year

Note

do you think you could maybe write for Yandere James Patrick March ? 🫣

note: U ARE SO REAL FOR THIS ONE #YAS OF COURSE IM GONNA WRITE FOR MY BAE

“ darling? ”

that voice. it makes you roll your eyes.

can you die again? sometimes you feel like you're getting suffocated whenever you even think about him.

“ oh! there you are, my sweet bee. ”

you grimace before quickly turning around, changing your expression to a smiley face.

“ james. ” you say with a small bow before extending your hand to his lips.

he quickly understands the motion and crouches in front of you, taking your hand delicately in his before kissing each one of your knuckles with soft kisses. in the third kiss you suddenly rip your hand out of his hold, james just shudders in excitement before standing up.

“ you are a goddess, my darling. ”

you were used to his... antics, been dead for a hundred years and half of them were spent by him pestering your time. claiming to be absolutely in love with you.

“ i know, james dearest. ” you turn around, grabbing a bottle of alcohol, pouring it into a fancy glass. “ what do you want. ” you harshly say, downing the whole glass in one go.

james raised his eyebrows a bit, still smiling, before screaming an, “ of course! ”, shaking his head while you grit your teeth.

“ i'm going to throw a party and i would like for you to be my guest. ”

you turn around, the glass forgotten as you slammed it into the small table. “ a party? for what? ”

you were used to james' weird impulses of showing to everyone just how pretentious he could be but the mention of a party just made you confused.

“ yes! exactly! ” he exclaims with his hands raised. “ why should anyone have a purpose to do a party, hm? ” he trails as he walks from side to side, not leaving your room just yet.

you roll your eyes for the second time. “ stop talking. ” you puff out as you sat in a chair, james immediately shutting his mouth.

one thing you did like about him is how well he takes orders.

“ i get it. i'll go to your... whatever. ” you trail off a bit before finishing with the swish of your hand but before your hand could go to your lap again, james catches it with a much bigger smile on his face.

uh-oh.

you fucked up.

“ my dearest beloved! ” he squeals like a teenager being told yes to prom, his knees hitting the floor with a grimacing sound. “ you won't regret it- i swear it on the moon and stars! ” he starts a trail of kisses from your hand to your shoulder and before he could reach your lips, your other hand pushes him.

“ then don't waste the chance. ” you stand up, leaving james sitting on the floor with the biggest smile on his face.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

next time you see him, you are called by liz to be on the dining room by eight.

you get yourself to look even more beautiful than ever and when you're satisfied with your results, you go down the stairs.

when you reach the end of them, though, you notice the hotel is too... quiet.

very quiet.

you frown as you look around, perhaps everyone's pranking you and are hidden... perhaps-.

“ y/n. ”

liz's voice startles you, turning around quickly to where she stood.

“ he's waiting. ”

you take the last step and walk to the dining room.

you don't know why did you expect everyone to be there, deadly silent. but the only thing that welcomes you is james standing in front of the table, opening his arms when he sees you; his eyes even lightning up.

“ bumblebee! ”

you give a tight smile. “ where's everyone? ” you ask, clearly ignoring james' attempt of hugging you.

he gets the idea and his arms stand by each side of his body again. “ here! ”

you incredulously look around, scoffing at the sight. “ i just see two. ”

he laughs while nodding, opening his arms again; this time to state a fact. “ a party of two! ”

oh, you could rip him to shreds.

if he wasn't already dead, his head would be hanging on the ceiling with half of his body missing.

instead of killing him, you just walk to the chair sitting on the end of the table, james jogging to catch up and giving you a seat, like the true gentleman he is. he chuckles as you sit before walking to his own seat, clearing his throat.

“ dearest, i hope you know. ” he seems to want to blush, looking at the empty plate in a way to avoid your piercing gaze. “ that i love you so much. ”

“ clearly. i am aware. ”

“ splendid! ” he claps, his elbows resting on the table. “ then you understand how people like me show their love? ”

you nod, clearly not interested in anything that came out of your plan. you were still planning his... second death?

“ perfect. ” he slightly raises his head as the doors of the kitchen opens behind him.

two people reach each other, one serving you wine and the other one serving him champagne. james quickly dismisses them while his eyes still saw you as if he was trying to memorize every single detail in your pretty face.

you drink a bit of your wine.

“ ah, the food! ” he chuckles, finally letting you breathe as he looks at the silver plates that were reaching the both of you.

you expect to find one of those expensive meals james brags about.

but the moment both waiters raise what covered the food, your breath hitches.

there it was. your closest friend's head, with theirs mouth open and eyes wide.

you befriended them when they asked for a room in this ugly hotel, they found you an interesting person and you did too. you must admit now that you were feeling a slight crush.

it seemed like james found out longer before you did.

“ i don't like when you show other people attention. ” james suddenly says, your eyes traveling from the grotesque head to his face.

he swirls his glass before taking a sip of his drink.

“ you hate my affection yet you crave others? ” he asks you while his eyes went from the glass to yours. you tremble in your seat.

“ it seemed like you forgot, darling.. who's in charge of this hotel and therefore you. ” his tone is harsh, no longer the sweet enamored tone he always uses when he addresses you. “ you truly think i can't torture you now that you're dead? ”

you look down to his plate, it had a heart in it... still beating, it seemed.

“ oh, dear. ” he feigns pity. “ i will always find nee ways to torture my way into your heart. ” he ever but softly says, mocking you and the break of your heart.

a clap makes you jump as you looked at him.

a beat of silence.

“ oh, isn't this romantic? ” he says as he rests his chin in the palms of his hands, looking at you with those same crazy eyes, his whole demeanor changing from threating to lover boy. “ you look so adorable, i could kiss you. ”

you could kill him.

#request 🤍#james patrick march x reader #jpm x reader #american horror story x reader #American horror story fanfiction #james march x reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x you #evan peters x y/n

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yandere-toons · 1 year

Text

DEATH AND DIGNITY

Yandere!Death the Kid – Platonic Scenario

WARNING: use of firearms, strong violence, toxic mindset.

WORD COUNT: 4.881

HOUR AFTER HOUR, from the time the sun climbed up the stars to the time it sank below the horizon, with every fanciful stroke of a tired pen, Kid poured onto paper the thoughts that would not leave him.

These thoughts gnawed at his mind like termites at rotten wood, consuming it bit by bit until what once was stable now teetered on the precipice of collapse. This flight of passion was a waking nightmare that haunted his every movement.

His right hand, which clutched the pen as though glued to it, exploded into a fit of shakes after forcing itself to remain stiff for a final sentence. The words that lay before him disgusted him more than the most fetid odour, and with an anguished cry, Kid tore the page free of the notebook.

“It's not good enough!” His yell was dripping with frustration, frustration with himself, the look of the letter and its intended recipient. The noise carried on the silent air of the mansion and shattered the peace of many a slumber.

It rounded corners and slipped underneath closed doors, ushering two pairs of haggard footsteps from a plush bed. Kid was deaf to this series of thumps, for what filled his ears was a combination of mumbles and rustles.

A few strips of paper had been severed from the rest and stuck to the spine while Kid pounded the majority into a ball and hurled it into the metal wastebasket beside the desk. As the wastebasket rattled, Kid slammed his elbows into the flat top of the desk, hunched over in his seat, and cradled his face in his palms.

“Kid?” Liz called, surprise and concern intertwined. “You okay?” She hesitated to ask, fearful of what had dragged such pain from him in the dead of night.

Bare feet brushed stone as Liz took another step towards him, and this one brought her to the foot of the desk. She looked down at the back of Kid's head and leaned forward to get a better view of him.

Kid did not meet her gaze. Perhaps, he had deemed himself unworthy of it, or perhaps, he had not the strength. “If I don't get it right, they'll think I'm garbage.” The misery in his voice told the story of someone who had given up on proving anyone wrong.

Liz saw how many pages were missing from the notebook and how packed the wastebasket was becoming, and she understood how steep the cliff was from which Kid dangled. “No, they won't. Just go with whatever you have left.”

On any of the nights that came before, he went to sleep at the same rigid bedtime. On this night, Liz observed, he quested for something that eluded him.

His eyes were glazed with manic confusion and open wide despite the dark circles surrounding them. His fingers danced across the desk as if it was hot to the touch, finding solace in digging each nail into the wooden surface.

Kid finally blinked after a full minute of staring at the next blank page in the notebook. In a shaky breath that teased the arrival of tears, he whispered, “I can't stop, Liz.”

It was not a declaration of determination or some great desire, but rather, it was a desperate recitation of the fact that he was, at that moment, as he had been at countless others, a slave to his obsessive thoughts.

They looped in his mind without end, threatening devastation if they were ignored and withholding his ability to relax until he wrote a particular string of words exactly as he had imagined them in his head.

Dozens of failed attempts sat in a stack inside the wastebasket.

Patty squatted in front of it with a curious laugh, collected a few balls of paper off the top, and began crafting an origami giraffe. She hummed a merry tune as she smoothed the trash and then folded it into a work of art, which earned a slight smile from her big sister.

Kid, however, was dead to everything but the blank page and the pen in his hand. He moved to quell the thoughts that suffocated him, and Liz grabbed his hand and guided it away from the page.

She frowned at the coldness of his skin and narrowed her eyes at his shallow breaths. “Have you had anything to eat today?”

He looked at her as though it was his first time hearing the word “eat” and was puzzled by its lack of apparent relevancy to his task. As the fact that a world existed outside of writing the letter washed over Kid in a slow wave, he turned his head back to the notebook and mumbled, “No. There was no time for that.”

Patty jumped up and spread herself across the desk, lying on her stomach and kicking the air. She stretched her arms towards Kid and shoved an origami giraffe in his face. “Give them this! Everybody loves giraffes!”

If she had taken a pack of crayons to it, one could have mistaken it for a real baby giraffe.

Kid eyed the origami giraffe and instinctively judged whether slicing it in half would produce equal pieces. A vertical slice would, he deduced, and he accepted it with both hands.

* * *

KID'S HOUSE WAS A CASTLE pulled from a gothic storybook, its walls adorned with tentacled skulls and red spikes, and its grass home to a garden of guillotines. Being in it was like stepping into a different universe, one where each room mirrored itself on opposite sides.

Every red-carpeted staircase footed the traffic of dozens of guests, and all the linen-draped tables threw their candlelit shadows upon the stone floor. The floor had been scrubbed and buffed until no scratch was in sight, as you noticed your reflection on the monochromatic rock.

Peering through one of the arched windows of the aptly named Gallows Mansion yielded the moon-tipped glint of a cast-iron fence, its spear-like bars pointing at the purple sky and spreading from a locked gate.

The music of the student body enjoying a break rang loud over the jazzy piano emitting from a gramophone. Its needle traced the grooves in an old disc, tucked into the corner of the walls bordering the right side of the central staircase.

Doing so much as lifting a piece of food from the lines of prearranged plates seemed a disservice, as if you were sullying a priceless creation meant to be looked at, not touched. The air smelt of salads, turkey legs and mashed potatoes with peas, leaving a zesty bunch of crumbs on everyone's tongue but your own.

Kid bopped himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand: “Idiot!” He hissed the word through clenched teeth and pushed his eyes to the floor, his breathing rattled and his once-steady hands curling into fists.

“Of course, they don't like it!” The bite of self-disgust in his voice was potent, but when Kid snuck a glance your way to catch you scanning the other partygoers with boredom, his heart punched his ribcage. “They're not having a good time,” he muttered, “I need to fix this.”

After patting imaginary dust from the clothes he had ironed twice before the party started, Kid took a deep breath through his nose and straightened his posture to the point of stiffness. A stony composure washed over his face and unwound the wrinkles clinging to it.

Kid departed from his group of friends, who were humouring the blue-haired Black☆Star as he stood atop a table and dramatised the events of his latest victory, and only one of them noticed.

The squeak of dress shoes pivoting on the stone floor alerted you to the sight of Kid sliding into the space beside you. He had aligned himself with you, facing the same direction as you and standing at the same distance from the nearest table as you were.

He wore black suspenders over a dark tie and a cedar brown dress shirt, like a classy gent out for a stroll, giving him a muted appearance that would have been easy to overlook in the crowd if not for his half-striped hair.

“I couldn't help but notice that the catering is not to your liking.” Kid recited the line that he had been refining in his head and repeating under his breath on the way over. “Rest assured, the menu will have greatly improved by the next party.”

As he turned to you, his arms came round from behind his back. “In the meantime, please accept this as a token of my apology.”

Kid presented an origami giraffe with the spirit of a chef peeling off the lid of a silver platter. He had closed his eyes, but when his anxieties about somehow grabbing the wrong item sprouted, he reopened them to study the gift in his hands.

“Patty wanted me to give it to you.” He stumbled on the name, as if he had intended to say a different one, but faltered just as the sound came out.

You tucked the giraffe underneath your arm, nodded at him, and offered a smile that Kid had yet to see you bear for any other person. “Tell her it's the finest gift I've ever received.”

Something bloomed on your face, an untroubled excitement that quieted the worries swirling round his mind about whether the dimensions of the paper giraffe were still symmetrical. “I heard about your last assignment!”

It was at that moment that Kid lost himself, his mask of calm slipping to betray unabashed interest. The hunt for maleficent souls had not occurred to him once that night. These villains were as much fair game as a wild hog, yet here he was, fretting about matters that he now wondered if his father would deem trivial.

Your eyes flitted to your pocket, which your free hand dipped inside with a purpose. “It sounds like dangerous work, so I made you this.”

A ringlike shadow flew over Kid, and then a necklace found its place on him. It was symmetrical, just as he would like it to be. It was also homemade, a truth that dawned on him like the first ray of sunshine after a storm.

“It's a good luck charm!” was how you described it, but he was too far gone into a spiral of hopeful theories to register this.

Kid cradled the necklace in the palm of his hand, and he saw the effort you had poured into making it. In that instant, it was a promise, a wish fulfilled, a dream realised.

When he gazed at you again, time had frozen for him. The surrounding chatter about upcoming exams and who had collected how many souls from voices of varying pitches and tones shifted to a similar, insignificant buzz, as did everything else but the rapid beats of his pulse.

His arms began to outstretch towards your face with the awe of someone daring to reach out to something godly. Kid took the sides of your head in his hands, applying a firm yet careful pressure that suggested both the need to admire and the fear of causing ruin.

In a half-breathless whisper, he said, “Of all the souls I've seen, yours possesses symmetry unparalleled.”

It was the type of compliment one might expect to hear while dancing under glittering chandeliers on the marble floor of a ballroom, intimate yet formal. From the mouth of a god who personally folded the tips of every roll of toilet paper in his mansion into triangles and abandoned missions to centre the painting in his living room, it was the type of compliment that had you walking with your head held high.

A wine glass full of apple cider hit the floor and shattered against the stone.

Kid recoiled as if he had been slugged in the gut, a twitch invading his eye while his face warped into a look of pure horror. The shattering of the glass was a high-pitched explosion that clawed his brain, which overflowed with images of the apple cider tainting his spotless floor.

When Kid thrust his head towards the source of the disaster, his gaze met that of Liz, who was standing in front of a nearby table with Patty.

He stormed to her table and arched his back, careful not to step in the orangish puddle of drink and broken glass. “Liz! How could you? Do you have any idea how long it takes to make this floor sparkle?” The words gushed out of his mouth like a waterfall, not stopping to breathe or allow for another's response.

As his agitated rant about needing to scrub the room again rolled over her ears, Liz raised her arm and rubbed the back of her head with a forced chuckle. “Whoops! Guess I'm a little clumsy tonight.”

Patty skipped after her big sister, only to pause and set her mouth agape when she took a peek at you. “Huh?” She tilted her head and leaned towards you with her hands sticking outwards.

“Hey!” shouted Patty, drawing the short word into a lengthy stretch of surprise that pulled joy at her lips. “You're who Kid's always talking about!”

Kid caught his breath mid-sentence, and he veered towards her as panic etched itself across his face. “Patty!” His sheepish outcry reverberated through the atrium and gathered the attention of various partygoers, who disregarded their previous conversations and proceeded to rubberneck.

She turned to him and cocked her head with an innocent hum. “What is it, Kid?”

He dashed behind her and began pushing her back to the table where Black☆Star was devouring his third dish. Patty did not resist, merely staring over her shoulder at him.

As soon as you were out of his sight, the repetitive thoughts returned to swarm his mind like flies flocking to the smell of carrion.

* * *

FROM THE MOMENT that it was flung over his head to the moment that he walked the streets of Death City on this overcast twilight, Kid had not removed the necklace for any reason for even a second.

He kept it near his heart, circling his spearpoint collar and framing his skull brooch of pure metal as if his heart would cease to beat without it.

Liz had glimpsed him cleaning it and polishing it when he thought he was alone, and on three separate occasions, she had questioned him about his preoccupation. “I don't know what you're talking about,” Kid always replied, eyes half-closed with disinterest and tone one of steely resolve. “I'm simply caring for a friend's gift.”

He was chasing a fantasy, and it seemed that everyone except him knew that. Every few minutes, he reached for the necklace and touched it, holding it for a bit to confirm that it had not disappeared since the last time he checked.

Shimmers of a napping sun poked through the cloud bank and dappled the cobblestone road ahead. The rhythm of his footsteps, a deliberate pattern of Kid counting the number of brown and grey stones, was broken by a scream.

It was the scream of glass as it shattered into a downpour of shards jumping on the street, and it dotted the cobblestones where Kid would have rested his feet if not for the hulking man blocking his path.

His mask was akin to the head of a devil, with bicorn ears and a drill-like nose. It glared down at Kid from under the rows and rows of fluorescent lights spewing out of adjacent buildings.

He had donned the red spandex and yellow cape of a superhero from the comic books of yore, but the sack he lugged over his shoulder was brimming with gold bars.

The surprise that had opened Kid's eyes and mouth wide died away with a surge of opportunistic confidence. “You evaded me once, Lupin. I can assure you it will not happen again.” He extended one arm to Patty and the other to Liz, prompting them to exchange brief nods.

The sisters vanished into beams of pinkish-white light, and there in his hands materialised a pair of silver Beretta M9s. Kid held them upside down and crossed his outstretched arms into an X-shape, with his pinkies hooked on the triggers.

“You think I'll just stand here and take it?” was all Lupin bothered to say before his free hand scooped a wooden handle out of his boot.

No sooner than Kid saw the glint of a dagger did he yank the pistols towards his face and form a protective barrier of steel and tailored sleeves.

The blade was so swift and the cut so clean that he was scarcely aware of where it had struck. His ignorance persevered until the glimmer of something caught his eye as it was split in twain and ripped from its home about his neck, and the answer drove a graver pain into him than the sharpest spear.

The necklace, a sliver of yourself that you had so graciously bestowed on Kid, lay battered at his feet.

The shock lasted only for as long as it took him to stumble backwards and regain his footing. He had enjoyed the gift so much that it became indestructible in his mind, and to see it reduced to what a passer-by would call garbage was the most dastardly of transgressions.

It was then that the pang of sorrow, which paralysed him like a snake's venom, bled into a frenzy that shook his heart and twisted his innards into knots. A lonely kind of fear crept up his spine, the kind that saw isolation in crowds and focused on every detail of imperfection.

The slice had been at an angle, dooming one piece to be longer than the other. That cretin, Kid thought, had not the decency to damage it symmetrically. By robbing the necklace of its symmetry, he spat on your hard work and perverted his connection to you.

Thuds of boots on stone approached him in a flurry, and Kid spun his head towards the noise to see Lupin rearing his dagger in preparation for another swing. Kid drew his twin pistols before Lupin could do him any more harm and, at point-blank range, planted two shots in his chest.

“You wretched pig!” Kid bellowed vitriol with the ferocity of a vindictive god, and during that momentary surrender to his darker impulses, that was what he had become.

He pulled the triggers again and again as quickly as they reset. The flashes of light were brilliant and tinged with pink, an oblique hail of his very soul.

To Lupin, who it blew to the ground, and the dagger knocked free of his grasp, it was inescapable like the claws of fate reaching down to take a swipe at him.

The barrage of shots had mangled the body beyond recognition, yet Kid fired at it still. He unloaded his virtually infinite magazine until the bones turned to powder and the cobblestone was chock-full of holes.

His hold on the pistols' grips was ironclad enough to crush a windpipe, a fact that unnerved Liz into shouting through the din, “Kid! You can stop now!”

The shadow of Kid stretched far as he loomed over the dead Lupin. His teeth, clenched until aching, glistened with spit while sweat traced the sides of his head. The incessant twitch in the corners of his lips complemented the wrathful look in his eye, the look of vengeance outpouring.

When the flood of bangs ended, the air, so thick with tension, begged for an encore. Kid swung his arms downward in a manner both snappy and rigid. Trails of smoke wafted from the barrels of the pistols, hissing and crackling.

The chipper, excitable voice of Patty rang out in the coming silence. “Woah! He's got spooky eyes!” Like a child to whom death was a game, she laughed.

As Kid turned back to the necklace and softened his scowl, the rage that had consumed him faded into hollow depths. In its place, a sense of shame swept over him like wind over dunes.

Kid dropped his weapons at once and fell to his knees. The sound of the pistols clattering to either side of his feet, as well as the immediate protests from Liz, went unheard.

For a while, all he could do was stare at the ruined necklace as if at the burial of a dear friend. Terror squeezed his stomach and seized all warmth from him, the anguish about what you might think of his failure to protect your gift, about a mistake that you may believe was intentional or evocative of his shortcomings.

When Kid retrieved the necklace, it was a heap of pieces that would never be whole again. His lips began to quiver, and he became misty-eyed.

He kept pushing the broken ends together, whimpering like a kicked dog when nothing stopped him from pulling them apart as effortlessly as he breathed.

Tears dripped from his eyes and plopped on the skin of his hands in streaks that rolled down the base of his thumbs. Some dangled there on the edges of his fingers, while others plummeted to the cobblestone and stained it with dark spots.

A shudder had begun to invade his body as if a cold wind was blowing through the room that only touched him. His hands closed around the remains of the necklace until his fists could be no tighter, and then Kid slumped in defeat.

“They entrusted me with this.” His voice rose from a desolate whisper to a high-pitched lament that threatened to crack under the tears straining his throat. “And I failed them.”

Even with the towering shape of the DWMA on the horizon, you had never seemed farther away from him than you did now.

Liz looked on, arms akimbo and eyes crinkled in suspense, and debated whether to console him or chastise him.

Patty raised one finger to her chin and observed his woe with a wide-eyed, curious gaze. She had parted her lips slightly, and a howl of laughter was bubbling on them.

“I don't deserve to live anymore,” cried Kid. He pressed his fists against his temples as if his brain was throbbing and wept into the dimly lit expanse of the deserted street.

Liz sighed through her nose and turned to Patty, who bent forward from cackling and slapping her knee. “Come on, Patty.”

The instant she said this, the two sisters knelt at Kid's side. Patty slammed her palm into his back time after time as if she were performing some crude version of the Heimlich maneuver on him. “You gave them a giraffe, so there's no way they can hate you now!”

Liz set her wary eye upon the scattered remains of Lupin, upon that display of a life ended in seconds with barely any trail to prove that it had existed. “Kid, we should tell your dad.”

His head snapped up, and the outflow of tears paused. “Yes,” he mumbled, “yes, you're right.” Kid stuffed each piece of the necklace into his pocket and then rushed away from the skeleton, lifting both hands to his collar and straightening it.

He banished all distress from his countenance and shut his eyes. When they opened, the back of his hands lay sideways against his lapels. He twisted his wrists and curled his fingers before extending his arms frontwards, tucking his middle and ring fingers into his palms while splaying his thumbs, index fingers and pinkies.

Orbs of violet light expanded at his fingertips and enveloped his hands in a sizzling, sparking glow that shot forth onto the cobblestone. It exploded in a ball of purple fire like a comet's tail and, with searing heat whipping the hem of Kid's uniform, branded the face of Death into the ground.

The brilliance of the flames shone across every speck of wall and window in the street. Disembodied souls of the dead emerged from Kid as strips of darkness silhouetted against this light, their ghostly shapes bobbing and pulling away from him with expressions of permanent terror.

The trio of holes that acted as Death's eyes and nose touched the reddish sky in blazing cylinders of light, and an angular figure cloaked in black appeared in the upward wind that followed.

Death, God to many and Dad to few, looked back at Kid through the same white mask that had rendered him unreadable in the days of early childhood. Even with eyes that judged the souls of all living beings, Kid could only guess his father's emotions until he talked.

“Hiya, Kiddo! Learn anything new?” He spoke with the goofy voice and exaggerated mannerisms of a cartoon character from the black-and-white era of television.

As he maintained heavy eye contact with his father, Kid resembled a statue carved out of stone so that it may never shed a tear. He stood erect, his dry tone betraying a hint of disdain. “You can scratch one name off your list.”

From her spot just beyond a car's length behind him, Liz stood beside her sister and squinted at Kid. Patty was still finding amusement in how funny Lupin's skull looked with no jaw bone and only half a cranium, while Liz struggled to parse the venom that laced Kid's words.

Death leaned towards Kid to the point where his mask was all that was visible, turning his head so that one eyehole was nearer to Kid than the other. “Oh? And which one would that be?”

Kid was conscious of his red-rimmed eyes, but he forced his lips into a straight line and smothered the urge to contort his face and resume crying. Instead, a hateful coldness flowed into his pronunciation of the name that he spat from his tongue as if it were a piece of rotten food. “Lupin.”

“Ah, can't say I'm sad to see him go!” chuckled Death, shrugging and retreating to his former position. “He must've gotten lazy after last time!” He bounced as he said this and stuck out his arms with palms upturned.

On his hands were oversize gloves, the bulky and puffy variety that devoted sports fans jiggled in support of their favourite teams. No part of Death's natural form was exposed, all of it concealed under cloth and mask.

Kid allowed his eyes to narrow and his brows to furrow. He delayed blinking, fearing that the movement would encourage another tear to fall. “Yes, I'd rather not be reminded of my past failures.”

Death settled down enough to take a closer look at his son and indulged in what he considered to be harmless curiosity, but his next question struck Kid like a lightning bolt. “Say, Kiddo. Where's that necklace you've been wearing?”

* * *

LONG AFTER THE CORRIDORS of the DWMA had darkened with nightfall, life stayed under the flickers of sconces to prepare the school for tomorrow.

The door to the infirmary creaked open, and a stream of moonlight gloated over the pair of black shoes that trudged across the tile floor.

It startled you from where you had been changing the sheets on a bloodstained bed. “Kid? What are you still doing here?”

Kid emptied his pocketful of broken pieces onto the end of the bed. He turned his gaze sideways and clenched his jaw, refusing to look you in the eye. “A Grim Reaper worth respecting wouldn't make such a grievous error.”

You nearly failed to recognise what the pieces once were, but when the realisation loosened your grip on the sheets until they clumped near the pillow, you slunk towards him.

Kid collapsed into a sitting position, with his knees folded on opposite sides of him and his toes pointing at the walls. “You have every right to wish ill on me.”

He bowed his head so that his hair obscured his eyes, which had lost much of their natural glow in favour of a tearful sheen. He condensed the emotion that had been running rampant in his voice moments earlier into a whisper. “But my life would be worthless if you cut me from yours.”

You crouched to his eye level and brought your hands onto his shoulders with a tentative slowness. “We're friends, aren't we?” Hesitation littered the “aren't we” part of the statement as if you were deep in foreign territory and searching for validation. “One broken necklace won't change that.”

The crescent moon jiggled with a resonant laugh, and as Kid sat there wondering what sort of angel you must have been to forgive him, his shoulders rose with a newfound lightness.

You almost took your hands back when he gripped one in each of his own, holding them up at equal heights like a knight pledging himself to his new liege. “I will never let you down again.” His stare became unwavering on the word “never” as though it were the most certain thing in the universe.

Kid sprung from the ground at such an impressive speed that he dragged you with him and went airborne for a split second. His next footstep was brisk, no more than a lurch, and brought him far closer to you than was necessary to make his words heard.

“This I swear on my life.”

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

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sweetlolitaaesop · 11 months

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Hi if it's okay can I please ask for a yandere Poseidon or Buddha (your choice) with a quiet darling that wears Jirai Kai fashion because of their abandonment issues

And because it's cute

Can it be where the darling dresses them up by either painting their nails or putting Clips or ribbons in their hair

Darling: can I paint your nails/ put ribbons or Clips in your hair

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐡𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐉𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐢 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

TW: Yandere , Toxic Behavior , Mentions of trauma

じらいけい - Jirai Kei is a jfashion style which is deemed controversial due to it being associated with self destructive behavior such as self harm, heavy drinking , and prostitution

ੈ♡˳! Thank you for requesting this ! I LOVE jirai kei fashion a lot and starting to save up for a liz lisa dress

𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐡𝐚

-Buddha understands the reason why you dress in this style

-It's a coping mechanism for you

-He likes your dark and cute style , he loves seeing the bows in your hair , the pretty earrings dangling from your ear ,and the pretty colors on your nails

-In fact he doesn't mind that you paint his nails or put clips in his hair like my melody ones or kuromi themed ones with you putting them to the side of his bangs

-If it makes you happy then he'll be happy too as your his darling

-And if any of the gods make fun of the ribbons, clips , or nails that you painted he'll just tell them to Shaddup

-For the outfits sometimes he'll pick them out like from many different brands such as Liz Lisa , Dear My L♡ve , MA*RS , Ank Rouge , and HoneyCinnamon

-Buddha would also buy accessories , clothes , and shoes for you since it can be pricey unless you buy them secondhand after all he would want his darling to be happy

-And if anyone makes fun of you , there gonna see the light for the last time

#yandere #yandere male #yandere blog #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere record of ragnarok #yandere buddha x reader #ror x reader #record of ragnorak #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror buddha #buddha x reader #fem reader #jirai kei #landmine girl

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epicsandwich301 · 2 months

Text

Anddddddd an award for “the least creepy yandere” goes tooooooooooooo……….

JEAN ARBINKLE who tf named her that holy hell

Yeah another fanart for @garfrenchfries because I’m still normal about this comic yeah yeah this arc made me emotional yeah yeah yeah I bet I draw more fanart eventually yea yea

Honestly Liz & Frank were the best part of this arc. I’m happy Garf was helpful tho, he’s a good cat

That was a roller coaster of an arc can’t wait for more wacky adventures to come

#digital fanart #garfield fanart #garfield #digital art #jon arbuckle #art #garfposting

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elryuse · 15 days

Note

Yandere rei goes crazy over her male manager?

MANAGER OPPA IS MINE

Yandere Rei X Male Manager Reader

The roar of the Seoul crowd vibrated through the stage, a familiar energy that once fueled Rei's electrifying performances. Now, it was a cacophony of terror, a constant reminder of the hooded figure who lunged for her with a glint of madness in his eyes. Y/n, their ever-reliable manager, had been a blur of movement then, shoving her out of harm's way with a fierce protectiveness that sent shivers down her spine.

Weeks passed since the attack. Y/n became a constant presence, his reassuring smile the only solace in Rei's recurring nightmares. He'd sit by her bedside, gently coaxing her back to normalcy, his concern a balm to her shattered spirit.

But with the returning light in her eyes bloomed a possessiveness she couldn't explain. Y/n's laughter shared with Wonyoung, a lingering hand on Gaeul's shoulder during practice – each interaction sparked a burning jealousy within Rei. One evening, after witnessing Y/n playfully tucking a strand of hair behind Liz's ear, a switch flipped within her.

"Y/n Oppa!" Rei called out, a forced cheer in her voice. He turned, a warm smile splitting his face. "Rei? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, just wanted to... talk." She led him towards her dorm, her smile hardening with each step. Inside, she slammed the door shut, the lock clicking with a finality that made Y/n frown.

"Rei?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Why were you touching Liz?" Her voice was a low growl, devoid of its usual playful lilt.

Y/n's brow furrowed. "What? It was just a friendly gesture. We were talking about choreography."

"Friendly gesture, huh?" she spat, her eyes narrowing. "How friendly was it with Wonyoung then? Or Gaeul?"

Y/n's confusion melted into a hesitant understanding. "Rei, you're scared, I get it. But that doesn't mean you can…"

She lunged forward, cutting him off with a kiss. But this was no friendly peck. It was a desperate claim, a searing brand of possession. Her touch was a mix of fear and a hunger that sent a jolt through Y/n.

He froze for a moment, the shock warring with a spark of something he couldn't decipher. But as her hands roamed his chest, her touch sending shivers down his spine, his own body betrayed him.

He pushed her back gently, his voice hesitant. "Rei, slow down. This isn't what you want."

"Isn't what I want?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire and a hint of something dark. "You make me feel safe, Y/n Oppa. But you're mine. Only mine."

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. The playful idol he knew was gone, replaced by a stranger with eyes blazing with possessiveness. Fear gnawed at him, but before he could voice it, her lips were on him again, this time exploring with a hungry intensity that made his breath catch in his throat.

He stumbled back, tripping over a chair that clattered to the floor. Rei ignored it, her movements becoming frantic. The playful, flirty idol was gone, replaced by a creature fueled by a twisted desperation.

Panic bloomed in Y/n's chest. He needed to get out, to call for help. But as he reached for the door handle, her voice stopped him.

"Don't you dare to escapee..." she hissed, her eyes glinting with a chilling possessiveness. "You saved me, Y/n Oppa. Now you'll stay with me. Forever."

He met her gaze, a chilling truth dawning on him. He hadn't just saved her from the attacker; he had opened the door to a different kind of monster, one as terrifying as the hooded figure, but far more alluring in her deadly beauty. The music outside faded away, replaced by the frantic drumming of his heart, trapped in a twisted love song with a chilling melody of fear and forbidden desire.

The night crawled by, a suffocating tapestry woven from Rei's possessiveness and Y/n's growing dread. Every stolen kiss, every desperate touch, was a chilling reminder of the idol he once knew. This wasn't Rei. This was a shadow cast by trauma, an echo of fear warped into a twisted obsession.

Y/n knew he couldn't succumb. This wasn't love, it was a cage built from broken glass. He had to escape, for his safety and for what remained of Rei. Sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford. As the first rays of dawn painted the sky a pale orange, he saw his chance.

Rei, exhausted from her own frantic passion, lay sprawled across the bed, her breathing shallow. Despair threatened to drown him, but the memory of the playful Rei, the girl he cared about, sparked a flicker of hope. He had to reach her, the real her, buried beneath the fear.

He tiptoed towards his phone, his movements slow and deliberate. Rei stirred, a groan escaping her lips. He froze, his heart hammering.

"Y/n?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Shh," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here." It was a lie, but he hoped it would lull her back to sleep.

To his relief, her eyelids fluttered shut, sleep claiming her once again. With trembling fingers, Y/n dialed a number. It rang once, twice, then a sleepy voice filled the receiver.

"Y/n? What's wrong?", It was Gaeul, their usually bubbly maknae sounding concerned.

"Gaeul, I need your help," he whispered, his voice tight with urgency. "It's Rei. She… she's not herself."

He kept his voice low, explaining the events of the night in hushed tones. Gaeul gasped on the other end of the line, fear replacing sleepiness. They formulated a plan, a desperate gamble on reaching the real Rei.

A few agonizing hours later, the other members arrived, their faces etched with worry. Y/n and Gaeul briefed them, their whispers blending with the rising city sounds. Using a spare key retrieved from the manager's office, they managed to unlock the door.

The scene that greeted them was surreal. Rei, adorned with a chilling smile, sat humming a song, completely oblivious to their presence. Her eyes, the windows to her soul, were vacant, devoid of recognition.

Gagging down the lump in his throat, Y/n called out her name, desperation lacing his voice. A flicker of recognition sparked in her gaze, but it was quickly replaced by a chilling possessiveness.

"Y/n Oppa!" she squealed, her voice laced with manic glee. "You came back! We can have more fun now, with everyone!"

Terror gripped the group. This wasn't their Rei anymore. They needed professional help, but how could they convince a delusional idol she was in danger? Gaeul, remembering their childhood bond, stepped forward.

"Rei-ah," she said, her voice soft and trembling. "Remember all the fun times we had together? Remember the beach trip? You were scared of the waves, but I held your hand."

A tremor passed through Rei. Her gaze lingered on Gaeul for a moment, then darted back to Y/n. The possessiveness remained, but a flicker of confusion warred with it.

Using this opening, the members worked together, employing a mix of past memories and gentle persuasion. Slowly, the shell of possessiveness started to crack. Tears streamed down Rei's face as the realization of her actions dawned on her.

In the aftermath, the group was forced to take a break. Rei received intensive therapy, battling the demons that manifested after the attack. The experience irrevocably changed their dynamic. Y/n remained their manager, but their relationship with Rei was forever altered. While they cared for her, a shadow of fear lingered, a reminder of the dark monster that lurked beneath the surface.

Rei's journey back to normalcy was slow and arduous. The stage that once fueled her spirit now held a tinge of terror. But amidst the fear, a flicker of hope remained. With the unwavering support of her group and professional help, she started to reclaim her life, her music now carrying a haunting melody – a testament to the chilling beauty of a broken heart and the thin line between love and obsession.

The apology tour was grueling. Rei, draped in a veil of manufactured regret, weaved tales of fear and trauma, her tears a performance perfected during therapy sessions. The other members, hearts heavy with concern, showered her with love and support. Y/n, wary but hopeful, felt a sliver of the old camaraderie returning.

One evening, after a tearful interview where Rei publicly apologized to her fans and the group, they celebrated a "fresh start" dinner at their dorm. The atmosphere was cautiously optimistic, a fragile peace treaty signed with tear-stained smiles.

As the night wore on, the remaining members retired to their rooms, one by one. Y/n lingered, a sense of unease prickling his skin.

"Rei," he started, his voice hesitant, "Are you okay"?

Rei turned towards him, her eyes gleaming with a light that wasn't quite right. "Of course, Oppa," she chirped, her voice saccharine. "I'm so much better now, thanks to you."

He felt a shiver crawl down his spine. "M-me?"

"Yes, you!" she exclaimed, her smile taking on a manic edge. "You saved me from the darkness, Oppa. Now, we can finally be together, a true love story."

Y/n's blood ran cold. The possessiveness he'd glimpsed during the locked-room incident was back, amplified tenfold. "Rei, that's… not healthy. We can't…"

He was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream echoing from down the hall. Adrenaline surged through him as he lunged for the door. The screams continued, punctuated by sickening thuds. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He burst into the hallway, his stomach lurching at the sight before him. Gaeul lay crumpled on the floor, a trail of blood leading to the next room. Panic clawed at his throat as he raced towards the source of the screams.

The door to Wonyoung's room hung ajar. Inside, a horrifying tableau unfolded. Wonyoung, eyes wide with terror, was pinned against the wall, a glint of metal catching the dim light.

"Rei?" Y/n's voice cracked, the name tasting like ash in his mouth.

Rei, clad in a blood-soaked nightgown, turned towards him, a pair of scissors dripping crimson clutched in her hand. Wonyoung slumped to the floor, a strangled cry escaping her lips. Her eyes, vacant and lifeless, stared blankly at the ceiling.

Rei's smile widened, revealing blood-stained teeth. "They were in the way, Oppa," she said, her voice a chilling monotone. "Now, it's just you and me. Forever."

Y/n's mind reeled. The apology, the tears, it had all been a facade, a meticulously crafted stage play leading to this horrific finale. The possessiveness he'd feared had morphed into a terrifying, murderous obsession.

He backed away slowly, his hand reaching for his phone in his pocket. But before he could even think of dialing for help, a glint of steel caught his eye. A shard of broken glass shimmered from the shattered picture frame in the hallway.

Desperation fueled his movements. He lunged for the glass, the sharp edges biting into his palm. As Rei lunged towards him, scissors poised to strike, he brought the shard up, meeting her demented grin with a snarl.

"You're insane, Rei!" he screamed, his voice thick with a mix of terror and fury. "This isn't love!"

His words seemed to flicker a spark of recognition in her eyes, a flicker quickly replaced by a cold, predatory glint. "Perhaps not," she hissed, her voice dropping to a low growl. "But it's ours, Oppa. And nothing will tear us apart."

They grappled, a twisted dance of love and madness. The metallic tang of blood filled the air. In the end, fueled by adrenaline and a desperate will to survive, Y/n overpowered her, the shard of glass finding its mark.

Rei crumpled to the floor, her eyes widening in shock, then slowly glazing over. A single tear rolled down her cheek, a chilling echo of the manufactured tears that had fooled everyone. As her breaths grew shallow, her gaze locked onto Y/n, a possessive glint flickering one last time before fading into oblivion.

Sirens wailed in the distance, a mournful sound under the blood-soaked silence of the dorm. Y/n sank to his knees, the weight of the night crushing him. He had survived, but at what cost? He looked around at the carnage, the once vibrant dorm now a scene from a nightmare.

In the cold, sterile light of the police investigation, Y/n recounted the In the cold, sterile light of the police investigation, Y/n recounted the horrifying events of the night. His voice was a monotone, a broken record replaying a scene he wished he could erase. The officers, hardened by years on the force, nonetheless looked shaken. The K-Pop world, once a place of glitz and glamour, now bore the chilling mark of a deranged love story.

Y/n was exonerated of any wrongdoing, deemed a victim in the nightmarish scenario. Yet, the weight of the ordeal hung heavy on him. He couldn't escape the haunting image of Rei's eyes, the way they had held a terrifying possessiveness, even in death. Sleep became a foreign concept, replaced by nightmares where the scissors glinted and the screams echoed in his ears.

He tried to move on, to rebuild his life, but the past clung to him like a shroud. The music industry, once his passion, now held a bitter taste. He couldn't bear to see another idol group perform, their joy a painful reminder of what he'd lost.

One day, a package arrived at his doorstep. Hesitantly, he tore it open. Inside, nestled in crimson velvet, lay a pair of silver scissors, eerily familiar. A single note rested beside them, penned in a handwriting he recognized all too well.

"You saved me, Oppa," it read, "Now, we can truly be together."

A wave of nausea washed over him. The note reeked of insanity, of a love that had transcended even death. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm, a drumbeat of dread. He looked around his spartan apartment, the silence amplified by the knowledge that he wasn't alone.

A slow, chilling creak echoed from the hallway. Y/n spun around, his breath catching in his throat. There, silhouetted by the faint moonlight filtering through the window, stood a figure. The silver of the scissors glinted in the darkness, catching the pale light.

"Rei?" he whispered, his voice cracking.

A chilling giggle filled the room. The figure stepped into the moonlight, revealing a face he both recognized and didn't. It was Rei, a twisted, grotesque parody of the idol he once knew. Her eyes, once bright with life, were now hollow pools of emptiness, gleaming with a chilling possessiveness.

"Closer, Oppa," she beckoned, her voice a guttural rasp. "We have an eternity together."

Y/n's legs turned to lead, his scream dying in his throat as the figure advanced, the scissors glinting with a deadly promise. He had escaped the carnage of the dorm, but he had never truly escaped Rei. He was trapped now, a prisoner in a love story written in blood, forever held captive in the twisted grasp of his yandere idol.

#ive rei #rei

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rancidpancakebatter · 2 years

Text

In the Name of Good | Prt 1 -[P.P.]

Pairings: Dark!Yandere!Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Prompt: "what are we going to do about this?" you're caught, red-handed, and peter's next move could destroy your life forever. unless… you can convince him otherwise

Summary: Peter is acting strange and curiosity kills the cat

word Count: 6k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+

Swearing, Somnophillia, Murder, Mentions of blood, Mentions of emesis, Animal Abuse/harm (Murder Triad stuff)

( Part 2 | Masterlist )

A/N: AHHHHHH! I'm so sorry I'm late I saw this like 30 minutes ago and whipped this up. Anyway, congrats to @liz-allyn and I'm honoured that you would wanna read anything I write. This is for you :))

Also, there is a literal murder scene in here so read at your own discretion. Perhaps I should cut back on the true crime after this. It's separated from the rest of the text and in italics so you can avoid it if you wish not to read

Peter Parker was the kindest man you knew. You grew up down the street from each other. Your parents moved into his neighbourhood when you were 7 years old. You sat in the front yard with a popsicle as the adults passed you by, carrying many heavy boxes. Across the street, you saw the curtains move. A mop of brown curls ducking as soon as you looked.

Peter had never really had friends before. Always been more of a loner. Aunt May had been preparing cookies all day and promised to take him over when “the new neighbours look more settled.” But he was impatient. He watched as you sat across the street, red popsicle dripping down your chin and fingers. He was fascinated by it. He liked the colour and the way it danced down your arm, enchanting.

You quickly became best friends, walking to school every day and playing at recess together. Peter didn’t treat you differently because you were a girl, he didn’t treat you like you were dainty. He would encourage you to jump off the swings with him. He would do nerf battles with you. He would rough house too.

Peter was your best friend and you loved him unconditionally. In middle school, you had your first crush: Noah Myers. Peter didn’t like him very much but you were head over heels for this boy. He called you pretty and drew you flowers that you would keep in your locker. He asked you to the spring dance and you were so excited to go. Peter and Aunt May took you dress shopping and it was so much fun, until he ditched you to dance with some other girl, an eighth grader no less. You could never compete with her.

That night you cried into Peter’s shoulder and he told you he would make him pay. You weren’t sure what he meant by that, and you never did. Noah showed up to school for a week and then disappeared. People said he moved others said he transferred schools but no one knew for sure.

By high school, many people thought that You and Peter were dating. Your relationship could be seen as co-dependent but you didn’t really care. He made you feel safe. There was hardly a secret between you two. He regularly spent the night at your place and his bed was always open to you. He was there for every milestone; you couldn’t imagine anyone else you would want to share those moments with.

That was until senior year. He started getting distant, he wouldn’t answer his phone for hours at a time and would never explain why. You thought maybe he had a girlfriend, but who? The thought alone made you feel like you were putting your heart through a vegetable spiralizer. It’s true that you weren't dating but you liked his attention. You had never thought of sharing it. Maybe that was selfish of you.

This went on for weeks and you were starting to get restless. What was he doing? What was he hiding? You stayed by your bedroom window on a Tuesday afternoon, watching his house. What you didn’t realise was that Peter was watching you too. He always did. He would watch you through his camera lens from the comfort of his bed. You knew he took pictures of you, you had seen them tacked up on his wall. He explained they were candids and you thought nothing more of it. His sweet, gullible, little lamb.

You didn’t see the stash he had in a book under his bed. He had cut out the pages to make room for your beauty. You had never thought to be reserved around Peter, sometimes changing in front of him. It was a cruel tease that you thought so little of him. He would watch you after school, as you studied, cleaned your room, and did your little workout that drove him crazy.

But today was different. Today you were looking right at him. You didn’t realise this of course, but you were. Why were you watching him, or trying to at least? Had he raised your suspicion? Had you been following the news? He knows Aunt May has warned him about going out at night. He wonders if someone had given you the same talk.

Hello, little lamb, he thought, What is it you want to know? He had to play his cards right. He could make himself visible, see what you might do. He could stay hidden and enjoy knowing you were looking for him. He could call you, pretend to be busy, see if you falter. So many options, so many choices.

Peter liked having choices. He likes making choices for others. That’s something he relished in you. You were so obedient, so willing to act on his will. It might be the only reason he hadn’t been caught. Knowing that it might come back to you made him careful. He had to protect you, keep you safe from the dangers of this world.

Like the dog on Kalamasis Street that tried to bite you. That stupid mutt scared you, snarling and barking at you. It had threatened you and he couldn’t stand for that. He felt joy in the missing fliers hung around the block. He pointed one out to you, just to see what you would say. He swelled with pride when you declared “Serves it right. I just hope it doesn’t come back to finish what it started.”

Peter couldn’t tell you that he knew it wouldn’t. Not yet. He had to make sure you were ready. He had to know that you would accept him and all his flaws. He had to know you would stand by him. He couldn’t lose you, neither of you would survive it.

You were patient, he’ll give you that. Three hours passed with you sitting at your window sill before you called him. He watched as you fumbled with the device in your hands, mulling it over. A choice. You chose to call him.

“Hey Petey, you home?” You sounded chipper but you didn’t know he could see the worry on your face. The way you picked at your nailbed nervous about his answer.

“My car’s out front right?” he chuckled, delighting in your desire to see him.

“Can I come over?” he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. You were so cute.

“Of course, little lamb, you’re always welcome over.” You smiled and he took a picture. You were so perfect, the way you were leaning over the window sill, your breasts pushed out in that thin tank top you had on.

He watched as you made your way across the street, backpack in hand. You had made another choice: to spend the night. Peter was conflicted with himself. He wanted to go out tonight, but having you in his bed would make it difficult. Not because you would catch him, you never did, but it might distract him.

You loved spending the night at Peter’s. It was the best rest you ever had. Maybe it was because his home was homier than yours. His came with an Aunt May, homemade dinners, and a bigger bed. It didn’t matter how much you complained, your parents refused to get you anything bigger than a twin. You think it’s because they’re not as on board with Pete spending the night but you don’t care. You just share your twin and your parents will either have to get you a bigger bed or sleep knowing you and Peter have to snuggle to fit.

Pete meets you at the door and basks in the smile that spreads across your face. You make your way to the dining room table where you begin to work on your homework. Peter joins you and you enjoy the quiet, it feels nice just to be with him. You suddenly feel stupid for getting so jealous over a girl who probably didn’t exist.

You didn’t notice Peter watching your every move as if trying to memorise the choreography of your mundane mannerisms. The way you twirled everything that entered your hand, a pen, a pencil, a straw. The way you would let out three quick puffs of air when you got stumped on something. The way you crossed and uncrossed your legs in thought.

Being “normal” around you was hard, even though his normal around you was already odd. He decided to take advantage of his time with you, hoping perhaps he can satiate himself with you and not need to go out tonight. He let out a dramatic puff of air, catching your attention.

“I can’t focus.” You leaned on your hand pouting.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You were always so willing to serve.

“Can you sit on my lap? You’re too far and it’s distracting.” You got up without a second thought. Physical closeness with Peter was something you were so used to. Whether it be holding hands, cuddling, or sitting on his lap, that was just expected.

You sat on his thigh and it took everything in him not to grab your hips and slowly start grinding you against him. He wondered what you would sound like, what sweet noises and pleas you would make for him. He wondered if you had ever done something like that. He imagines you grinding against a stuffed animal he had given you. What would Mr Whiskers say if he could talk?

You were so oblivious to him and it both excited and angered him. It excited him because he knew he could get away with quite a bit. But it angered him because he wanted you to be his, all his and no one else's. He remembered the guy from your econ class then.

You had worn a skirt Peter had bought you to school today. You loved anything Peter picked out for you and wore it with pride. It was definitely too short for dress code but you were such a sweetheart no one dared scold you. That guy didn’t care how sweet you were.

Peter watched as he trailed behind you in the halls, just staring at your ass, making obscene gestures that his lackeys would laugh at. He had to pay. He couldn’t get away with that. Ogling at what wasn’t his. You none the wiser, too sweet and kind to know what he meant. Peter had to protect you, his little lamb.

It was nine o’clock, time for bed. Peter preferred to stay up but he could never say no to you. You dressed in your pyjamas and Peter watched, he watched as you pulled your shirt off exposing your perfect back to him. He wanted to kiss and lick up your spine, have you mewling, begging for more. You unhooked your bra and for a moment he was jealous of the Smith’s poster on the wall that got to see them. It’s not that Peter hasn’t seen them, it’s just always been through a viewfinder, two planes of glass and a street away.

He always slept in his boxers and you never thought anything of it. It never occurred to you that maybe that was too intimate between friends. He was in his home and could sleep as he wished. You got in bed as Peter went to get you some water. He always did this. Made sure you had plenty to eat and drink. Every time you spent the night he gave you a glass of water and made you drink it all, he was just so kind.

While fixing your drink he tried to focus on you. He tried to convince himself that a night with you was better than a night out, but all he could think about was that fucking guy. He had gone through the yearbook and found him. Blake Walsh was the son of Debera and John Walsh. John owned a landscaping company and after a little digging, he found their address. He couldn’t not go out tonight. Not after what he did to you.

He stirred your glass, making sure the sleep aid fully dissolved. After inspecting it closely he was pleased with his work. You smiled at him as you accepted the water, downing it in seconds before rolling over and patting the place next to you. Peter wasted no time climbing in after you. It wasn’t long before sleep overtook you. Peter waited patiently for your light snores before moving. He had a busy night ahead of him.

First, he petted your face, moving the hair out of the way. You didn’t even flinch. He had been worried he hadn’t used enough melatonin, you were starting to build a tolerance over the years so he had to give you more, always careful to not use too much. He didn’t want you to be suspicious. He ripped the blankets off of you and rolled you onto your back.

He took in your sleeping form, nipples peaked through your thin shirt due to the sudden coldness, your exposed hip from where it rode up, your shorts bunched. He wanted to ravish you. He checked the clock, 10:30. He had to finish his night by three. It would take him at least two hours to take care of Blake, but he always underestimated.

He had thirty minutes to enjoy you. He began by slowly pulling down your shorts, listening carefully for any disturbance from you. Once your shorts were off he buried his head between your thighs. He thanked whatever deity was out there for giving him this gift of heightened sent. God, you smelled so good he could almost taste you. He couldn’t help himself, he laid his tongue flat against your core through your cotton panties. He relished in the little squirm you made.

He allowed himself a few more licks before he couldn’t stand it any longer. He was rutting against the bed, his hard-on leaking precum onto the sheets. He pulled his boxers off and sat back at the head of the bed. He slowly lifted your hand, kissing your knuckles before spitting into your palm. He listened carefully, monitoring your heart rate and breathing pattern as he went. He slowly wrapped your fingers around his member, it twitched in your hand.

He started stroking himself with it, your skin was so soft. He bit his lip as he sped up your movements. He stared at your innocent face, he wondered what you would look like falling apart from his hands. Maybe one day he’d know. It wasn’t long before he was cumming, heightened senses making him sensitive. He carefully licked your hand clean before going to the bathroom to clean himself up.

He got dressed and went to his closet. He had made a lock for it, much similar to his bedroom door, but this one was a combination lock. Aunt May was never in his room much and if she asked he had a collection of porno mags he would pull out and pretend to be ashamed of. He was sure she would let it go after that.

He grabbed his go bag and headed out the window. He had gotten into a routine of sorts for his adventures. First, he put his car in neutral and pushed it down the street to the stop sign. Anyone who saw him would just think he was a teenager sneaking out, nothing more. With his newfound strength, it was quite easy to do. Secondly, he would arrive a mile from the location. His endurance was much better now and running was easy, as was scaling houses. This brings us to three, find a point of entry/distraction.

When he first started he was more of the blitz attacker. Finding someone on a night run and ending it there, no planning, no flair, just a rush. But now he was getting good at this. He surveyed the house for a bit, it was quiet, and there didn’t seem to be any security measures. He could work with that. He saw a light on in one of the rooms, upon closer inspection he realised it was Blake’s. He was up on his phone, not seemingly doing much.

He found a doggie door in the backdoor and hopped around in silent glee. If he could pull this off he could get two kills tonight.

__________

He shimmied through and began listening for bodies. He heard something on the ground floor with him. He crept around the kitchen and opened a small door. It was a laundry room and there in the corner was his prize.

A beautiful golden retriever, none the wiser to his presence. He knelt beside it and it started to stir. He quickly clamped his hand around its mouth squeezing enough for it to yelp. He snapped his neck, taking its collar in his pocket. He lifted the dog over his shoulder and made his way under Blake’s window. He threw a couple of stones at the window and it wasn’t long until Blake opened it.

He was surprised to see Peter, even more, surprised to see him holding PopTart over his shoulder.

“Parker, what the hell are you doing here?” He whispered loudly.

“Hey, is this your dog? I don’t think she’s doing too well.” Peter bit back a smile. It was almost too easy. He watched as Blake began to panic before rushing away from the window.

Peter heard him open the front door and dropped the dog before scaling the side of the house to get a better view. Blake looked around briefly for Peter before falling to his knees in front of his dog. Peter watched as Blake began to shake her more and more before crying out.

“You know,” Blake’s head shot up at hearing Peter’s voice looking around before finally seeing him clinging to the side of his house. “You should really lock your doggy door.”

Blake said nothing as his brain continued to process. Peter lept off as he balled his fists together, knocking blake on the head. He picked them both up, one on each shoulder, “Really, any old creep could get in.”

__________

Peter returned to you at two am exhausted but very happy. When you woke up the next morning in his arms you were none the wiser about his escapades. Aunt May made you breakfast before you carpooled to school. You teased Peter for being such a morning person when you still felt groggy. Peter only chuckled, offering you some of his coffee and you took an appreciative sip.

You had a great day and Peter did too. He seemed extra affectionate, hugging you from behind, kissing you on the cheek. You appreciated it after feeling neglected for a month. You couldn’t remember the last time Peter seemed so happy.

That didn’t last when you walked in together on school Thursday. Peter immediately took notice of the extra cops in the school. He walked you to your locker and stared them down over your shoulder. They didn’t seem to suspect him. Why would they, they couldn’t know, right?

In English, he noticed a mob around Gwen Stacy. He took his seat listening in, “Yeah, my dad said Blake is missing. They think he might have run away or something. His window was open and his dog is missing too.”

He heard someone ask if she thought he was murdered, “My dad won’t tell me anything else but I’m sure he’s fine.”

Peter knew he wasn’t, Peter knew where he was. He was gone, unable to hurt you again.

That night at dinner May seemed on edge. “(Y/n), I know your parents are out of town but I would prefer it if you spent the night here.”

You looked at her confused and Peter shared your expression. “Mrs Parker, you know I’m never one to turn down an invitation. Are you worried about me being alone?”

May took a sip of water, and Peter recognised this look. She was worried but didn’t want to worry anyone else. Always the protector, never the protected. “I know it’s probably nothing but with those murders in the park and that kid missing…it has me worried. I don’t want you in that house alone. If anything happened to you-”

“Nothing would ever happen to her.” Peter hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t meant to snap like that. He felt anger rise in his gut at the insinuation, that May thought he would ever hurt you. Of course, she didn’t know that she had implied that, but he did and it angered him.

He melted a little when you rested your hand on his. He looked into your sad eyes and let himself be swaddled in your tone. “I know you would never let anything happen to me, okay Pete? I’m not going anywhere.”

You were so sweet and kind. To you, his outburst was out of fear. The fear of losing anyone else. You had held him as he cried over Uncle Ben, listening to his last voicemail on repeat. You had consoled him as a child when someone told him his parents hadn’t died they just didn’t love him enough to stay. You had been there for him, and he was determined to do the same.

That week you stayed at the Parker’s. You opted to just change at home as it was just across the street, instead of trying to pack all those clothes. Peter always accompanied you. He took the time to pick out your outfits and raid your panty drawer. He was a sick fuck and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself.

By the following Friday, Peter was getting restless. Spending every night with you was nice but he needed to get out again. His brain was foggy and he couldn’t focus on anything, even you weren’t helping.

That night when braiding your hair Peter grew curious. He wanted to tell you but he couldn’t, not yet. “So what do you think happened to that Blake kid?”

You were quiet for a minute and Peter worried you might not have heard him. “I think I chase boys away.”

That definitely wasn’t the response he was expecting, “What?”

He tied off the end of your braid and turned you around in his lap so you were facing him. You rested your hands on the back of his neck, head turned unable to look at him.

“It’s like, any guy that might like me just…disappears.” Peter raised his eyebrows, shocked you could even piece that together. You hadn’t said anything before.

“What do you mean?” Peter knew exactly what you meant but needed to know how much you knew.

“Well first it was Noah, he left me at the dance and then left forever. There was Micheal who flirted with me for a bit and then three days before our date just vanished. And now Blake, he just complimented my skirt. I’m not even sure he was into me but it was enough and now he…he ran away.” Peter could hear your voice breaking and moved to grab your chin. You didn’t fight as he raised it, levelling your gaze.

“Hey, it’s their fucking loss, okay? You are the most amazing person I know, anyone would be lucky to have you.” You sniffled and he continued. “Besides, none of those guys are worth a shit. No one is compared to you, little lamb.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek before tucking you in and curling into your side. It wasn’t long before you were asleep and Peter snuck out to go to the park.

You woke up in the middle of the night. You felt cold. You realised then that Peter wasn’t in bed with you. You went downstairs to get a glass of water. Maybe Peter was right to give you water before bed, he didn’t tonight and now you couldn’t sleep.

You called out softly for him, but he didn’t answer. Was he not home? You checked the clock on the stove: 1:45. He shouldn’t be out. You made your way to the living room window and were surprised to see his car wasn’t there.

You were worried making your back upstairs. You climbed back into bed, tossing and turning unable to sleep. That’s when you noticed his closet was open. It was never opened. You stared at the small crack in the door, it called your name like a siren’s song. You told yourself you were only going to grab a hoodie, you were cold. You weren’t going to snoop.

You wish you never had. You wish you could go back to before you knew. When you first opened it you saw chalk on the wall. A bunch of tally marks. You thought it was odd. Then you noticed there were no clothes in here. The shelves were lined with odd trinkets, rings, a shoelace. You noticed a ziplock baggie with hair, a date hastily scribbled on, and you began to get nauseous. You noticed a dog collar, the tag glinting in the moonlight. You flipped it over and your heart fell to the floor.

It was from the dog down the street. You remembered seeing the same name and collar on the missing sign. The address lined up too. You began digging and you found more collars, more jewellery, even keys.

You found a bloody baseball card in the same bag as a dog collar. You turned it over, PopTart Walsh. Your hands shook as you realised what you were looking at. His trophies. There were so many, this had to be going on for years. You turned to the chalkboard and began counting the tallies.

“900” You gasped dropping the collar with a loud clatter. You hadn’t heard him come in.

“Well, it is now. Technically, there are 899 tallies there, but after tonight,” he held up a pair of headphones already bagged and dated, “It’s 900.”

You took slow steps back and he matched each one, hands turned out. Your back met the wall and you squeaked as you realised you had backed yourself into the closet.

“Woah there, little lamb, be careful. You don’t want to hurt yourself.” His smile looked sickening in the moonlight. You had never felt fear like this before. You had started crying, cheeks feeling itchy as each tear dried.

“Aw, you poor thing. Why don’t you come on out of there and we can go to bed.” His tone was the same as always, gentle and soothing. You didn’t like it anymore, it seemed false now. Now that you knew he was anything but gentle. But what could you do?

You took slow steps forward feeling your heart drop with every pace towards his open arms. He held you tightly, pinning your arms to your sides, as he nuzzled your neck with his nose. You felt sick, you hated that his touch still made feel special. After everything you’d seen, after everything you know, you still find yourself melting into his embrace.

Peter feels your heartbeat start to steady and pulls away slightly. He cradles your face, your hair stuck between his palms and your cheeks. He tuts as he wipes your tears with his thumbs, “Why aren’t you in bed, little one?”

Your breathing was still quick but you tried your best to answer. “I- I was cold. You were gone. I got- I got scared.”

You felt your eyes start to water again and Peter fixed you with a soft smile. One that would usually make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Little lamb, you have nothing to be afraid of.”

He observed you for a while, trying to decide his next move. You knew now. The cat’s out of the bag and one of this size certainly can’t be swept under the rug. This was going to change everything.

“You have a choice,” His tone was low and silky. You shuddered as his breath ran over the bridge of your nose. “You can try and run, but I assure you, you won’t get very far.”

Your stomach dropped at his words as if the gravity of the situation finally hit you. You were in danger. You were in danger because your best friend was a serial killer and would kill you to not get caught. Peter had never threatened you before. Not even jokingly.

“Or, you can be a good little girl and wait for me.” Your blood ran cold at the nickname. It wasn’t one he used often. You could count on one hand the amount of times he had used it in the 10 years you’ve known him.

You nodded your head and he tutted again, “Words, darling.”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, “I’ll be good.”

Peter seemed satisfied by your answer and rewarded you with a kiss on the forehead. You sat on his bed as you heard the water start to run. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the closet door. The more you looked into the inky blackness the more it seemed to pull you in. Your head hurt. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe. Wild thoughts began to race through your mind.

How long had this been going on?

Were you dying right now?

Had he poisoned you?

Was he going to kill you anyway?

Had he really killed 900 people?

Before you realised what you were doing you felt the morning dew on your bare feet. The sensation shocked you back into your body. You left. You weren’t a good girl, you had left. And now Peter was going to punish you, probably in a deadly capacity. You considered turning back, but the thought of looking in that closet again almost made you hurl on the Parker’s front lawn.

You made your way across the street and went up to your room. You didn’t bother locking the door. If Peter wanted to get to you, you doubted a locked door would stop him. You raced up the stairs and into your ensuite bathroom.

You felt like a wreck, Your head pounding as your stomach expelled everything it could. You rinsed your mouth out and began brushing your teeth, wanting to rid your mouth of the bitter taste of bile. After rinsing your face you turned back to your room. You climbed into bed facing the window, you didn’t see any movement yet. Everything seemed still at the Parker house. For a moment you thought you might have dreamed it. Just a moment though.

“You ran away.” His voice was stone, sending shivers down your spine.

You curled into yourself as if that would somehow save you, “No, I didn’t”

You heard his footfall on the carpet, he was right behind you now, “Arguing isn’t going to help you, little lamb.”

You felt his hand grip your shoulder. It hurt as he ripped at it, pulling you to face him. The shadows of the room painted him in an eerie light. His hood was pulled over his face, only his mouth illuminated by the velvety glow of the street lights.

“I couldn’t-” You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling breathless again. “I couldn’t stay in there. I felt like the darkness was going to swallow me up.”

Peter’s demeanour changed, it was like your words flicked a switch. His countenance changed to one of pity. You weren’t sure you liked it. He sat by your legs before bending over and picking you up. It felt unnatural, the strength he had, the way he lifted you like it was nothing.

He tucked you into his chest, stroking your hair. “Poor thing, I’m so sorry you had to see that. I know you weren’t ready.” You stayed silent, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sure you have questions,” he left a quick peck on your scalp, “ask away.”

You thought for a moment before opening your mouth, “Have you really killed 900 people?”

He chuckled, the rumbling shaking your body, “No, that’s just how many things I’ve killed. I started the tally not long before you came along. It’s mostly bugs and animals. I’ve only killed 9 people.”

You almost laughed at the absurdity, only 9. As if ending a human life wasn’t such a big deal. It wasn’t much only 9. You asked the only question you could think of next. The one you were burning to know since you first realised. The one you feared the most. “Why?”

Peter was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking through his answer. “Many reasons. I like it, for starters. It feels good. Most of them deserved it, well that’s not true I suppose. Those Joggers didn’t do anything wrong but Noah and Michael and Blake,” he said the last name with so much venom you winced.

“They deserved it.” He was quiet for a minute and you thought maybe he was done. You shifted to look at his face. You had begun to hate yourself in this exchange. You shouldn’t enjoy sitting in his lap like this. You shouldn’t think he’s pretty. You shouldn’t fantasize about his pulling you close into an earth-shattering kiss. But you were and you hated yourself for that.

He moved a fallen strand of hair from your face before resting his hand there, “I didn’t mean to kill Noah. I really didn’t. But I can’t say that I’m sorry for it either.”

“You seem pretty sure of your actions. I wouldn’t expect you to be.” He chuckled again at your words. You hated yourself for the pride blooming in your chest at making him laugh.

His face fell again as he sighed, “When Uncle Ben died I was devastated. He was killed…all because he couldn’t mind his own business. As I watched my uncle bleed out I was horrified but also…excited? That’s not the right word. I watched as the blood left his body and I felt, I dunno, alive. It was like his life was being poured into mine, and it was beautiful.”

Your brows knitted together as he spoke, it was terrifying to hear him talk like that. “I was given powers and I knew what I had to do. I had to avenge him. That’s why his life force was given to me, so I could kill the fucker that got him.”

You nodded your head slowly, that was really the only thing Peter had said that made sense. His righteous anger was justified. “Did you? Did you kill him I mean?”

Peter’s smile stretched, pulling out the dimples in his face, “Yes, I did.”

You mulled his words over, growing confused again, “You said you got powers? What kind of powers? Why- Why do this?”

Peter threw his head back as a laugh ripped through his chest. You braced your hands on his biceps in fear. “Oh, little lamb, I have been chosen by the universe, given the strength of a god, given the power of a god. This is what I was meant to do.”

You shook your head, not wanting to accept that Peter was made for such horrors. “Why not use your powers for good?”

He tilted his head like a puppy, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a pout. You thought for a moment that you had gotten to him, that maybe you had turned him to the light. “I’m using them to protect you. What better good is there?”

You shook your head burying it in his chest. He was doing this for you. It was your fault Blake was dead. It was your fault those joggers in the park would never go home to their families. It was all your fault. You began sobbing gripping his jacket in your shaky palms. Peter shooshed you, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” He pulled back the blankets and let you sink into the mattress. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed in behind you, holding you close to his chest. “Sleep now, it’ll all be fine in the morning.”

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