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irides-solstice · 12 days

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˗ˏˋ☁️‧ ₊ ˚ 🦋 ‧ ₊ ♡ˎˊ˗

{Headcannons for an upcoming au i'm planning} Not enough people talk about Claude after he loses Ciel Phantomhive's soul to Sebastian... Especially not ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ... ໒꒰ྀི ˃ ∩∩ ˂ ꒱ྀི১

{Wolf spider!Claude X moth!reader}

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ who goes back to his claimed territory, sulking the whole way after his loss. Because for the first time in a million years H̷̬͖̻͒e̷̢̝̫͖̯̍��̀͊ ̷̬̻́l̴͖̹̅͋ọ̴̈́s̶͇̬͔̆̈́̚͝ẗ̴̪́̎̃̿ ̴̢̧͚̜̊͠ḩ̴̛͍̰̳̂̄͐i̷̠͇̥̹̓͆́̊s̶͎͍̘͊͑̐̽ ̵̗̆̌́̿̍p̵̦͎̥̟͔̈́̾ṙ̸̺̼̉ī̶̭̻͇͉̕z̴̥̠̙̳̅̃̒e̷̹͙͋ This loss is not easy pill to swallow when he's the one, who's infamously known as the calmest and composed in any given scenario. He finds himself losing his cool. His anger, and rage causing continuous damage both around his and others territory.

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ and his presumptuous nature, overconfident and eccentric behaviour being the reason behind his biggest failure, that too to a younger demon! - A massive blow to his ego... Sebastian absolutely getting the upper hand on him once he loses his poise. A more established and esteemed demon losing in such a manor would absolutely make him a laughingstock among the inhabitants of hell... And it does. That too because of a human soul's aroma? Preposterous! Claude is absolutely seething in solitude. So, he makes up for his loss of reputation by unleashing absolute chaos onto whoever dares to even snicker at him.

The aroma of Ciel Phantomhive's soul... An aroma he had yet to ever encounter on his own adventures... Truly a noteworthy meal. He'd even applaud Sebastian if he wasn't kitten licking his bruised ego.

So, you can see why he's so perplexed when he senses the same fragrance back in hell... On a demon too... A pretty one, one lesser in status than him, but makes up with her resourcefulness. The unique skull like birthmark on your forehead, just above your adorable doe eyes, and the quiet buzzing of your wings makes him shudder in excitement. Ideas of you writhing underneath him... In his arms, as he makes you his own... Hmm exciting, no? So, like the opportunistic hunter he is, eager to win your affections he revels in the idea of a chase. Especially after one as mesmerising as you are ♡

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ who searches high and low for you, but is stumped to see you are nowhere to be found... Where he wants you to be. Only for you to walk right into the palm of his hand. Clueless as to who even has his eyes on you. You, the runt of the litter just trying to find a place to settle, and you strut right into his lair for a measly amount of nectar and honey. Once he gets his hands on you however...He will never ever let you leave his sight. You're his whether you like it or not~

"There's no use in trying to run little one, you're mine now~"

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @thefallofruins ╰➤ {ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ, ᴏʀ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪꜰɪᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ}

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heartfullofleeches · 11 months

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The sex demon harem may slit my throat or worse, but I WILL flirt with loser ddarling, imma rizz them up

Their harem allows them to sleep with humans - if anyone wants that loser, but as long as there's no commitment/they don't see that human more than once or twice... Eh, who am I kidding- they probably slaughter them either way. This lead to the most hilarious scenario in my head.

Rando: i want to fuck you so bad

Loser Reader looks back at their harem hiding in the shadows who nod in approval: Sweet. Your place or mine?

That same rando three weeks later: I... think I'm in love with you. I want to settle down and start a family with you.

Loser Reader, shaking them violently by the shoulders: You dumb bitch! This is exactly why I ghosted you! Fucking - run!

[Loser reader gets flung to the side as their fling is mauled by their demonic lovers]

Loser Reader: Goddamn it.. I'm not cleaning that shit up

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere oc #yandere teratophilia #Loser reader #yandere demons

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peoplesgraves · 2 years

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Demons have hearts

Yandere Demon X Reader

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home? Its freezing and It’s right on the way. I really don’t mind.” Your coworker looks over at you worriedly from her car.

You smile politely and shake you’re head firmly “no thanks. It’s a perfect night to walk home. Thanks for the offer though” you give a small wave “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She mumbles something under her breath and finally drives away leaving you alone in the chilly air. It was only a few minute walk to your house and the snow looked so pretty that night.

You start to walk while breathing warm air into your hands just taking in the peace that the late night brought. of course though no good thing can last forever.

“Hey” youre startled by a voice and a figure in the corner of your eye. We’re they there just a second ago? You didn’t recall.

you ignore the voice hoping they’re talking to someone else. Anyone else.

“Hey, girl breathing into your hands” now it was obvious they were talking to you. You couldn’t ignore them a second time.

Finally you look at them in all their glory. They’re tall and otherworldly beautiful. For some reason you don’t feel threatened or scared anymore you just feel distracted.

The figure stalks up to you and pushes some hair behind your ear with a self satisfied smirk. “Do you remember me?”

The fog lifts in your mind just enough for a coherent answer to form. “No” you stare up at their eyes and once again get lost in their beauty.

They sigh but don’t really look all that upset about it. “How cruel. I would never forget you.”

You have another moment of clarity, this one of your own accord. “You know me?”

The figure smiles and suddenly their canines seem unnaturally sharp. Horns appear on their head and their eyes turn completely black. “Maybe you remember me better like this.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble clumsily backwards. Trying to get away from the monster. “Y-you.” You trip on nothing and fall back into your butt.

The demon smile and stands over you. Their form blocks the moonlight but their eyes still have a distinct glow about them. “Me.” A contract appears from thin air, one that has both your and their signature. “We made a deal. Your soul in exchange for-“

“Stop…” your voice is a quiet whimper but it still stops them in their tracks.

The demons eyes glow brighter and their smirk grows at your bravery. “What was that?”

“Please don’t say it. I know what I signed…” you look up at them, eyes bleary with tears and lip pulled between your teeth, bitten raw to the point of blood. Silently pleading with them for mercy.

“Say what? That you gave up your soul in exchange for your ‘true love’ only for them to leave you” the demons watches as you break down in a fit of sobs. Though you steel yourself rather quickly much to their surprise.

Your tears are replaced with fire that rivals the demons own. “I made a mistake. I thought it was love and that I was doing the right thing. I don’t want to die.” You let out a shaky breath “but I also made a deal. So do what you need to”

The demons begins to suck the air straight from your lungs but the utter defeat that permeates you makes him stop before he can do anything more then make you light headed. As your air returns you fall to your side to cough and wheeze.

“You were pathetic when I made that deal with you. All dopey and in love, completely reliant on someone who even I thought was bad.” The demons sits beside you “I wanted to break you, to ruin you.”

Still light headed you lay on your back and listen to Them. They were right. You were pathetic.

“I watched you, you know. After you signed the contract. I came here today thinking you’d be on the precipice of shattering but you’ve already shattered and put yourself together. Haven’t you?” They look at you with an unreadable expression.

You nod slowly. “I guess so.”

The demon takes one of your hand and presses it to their heart. “You have a demons heart now. Broken and ruined but still strong.”

You pull your hand away and look the demon in the eyes. Trying to find a hint in their inky black orbs. “What are you going to do to me?”

The demons smirks and all at once the moment of vulnerability is over. They revert to their human form much to your relief “I like you so I guess I can hold off on killing you for now.” You let out a sigh of relief. “Don’t forget. I still own your soul”

Your face drops and the demon wraps a possessive arm around your waist, leading you the opposite direction from your house. “Uh where are we going?”

The demons smirk goes from playful to vicious. “We’re going to pay your ex a visit, can’t let them get away with hurting my human.”

#yandere #yandere demon #yandere demons #yandere monster #yandere fantasy #yandere mythical creature #yandere x reader

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yandere-sins · 2 years

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Mine Forever

This wasn’t my favorite prompt as I wasn’t aware of how broad the topic of eldritch horror was, so I hope I ended up coming up with something acceptable lol. Return of the slime monster (unfortunately, no the alien, but a slime demon is close enough, no?) and all of its... delicate doings.

Fandom: Original Work Pairings: Yandere!Slime!Demon x GN!Darling!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Actions/Lemon (Mention of non-con, eggs and basically incubations of those, lowkey breeding mention?), Violence (Strangulations and restriction of the reader’s body), Demons (+ summoning demons), Mention of other occult/spiritual things and practices.

Prompt: @sintember Eldritch Horrors - Twisting minds, twisting depths, slithery limbs that shift and grasp and pull you deeper into the madness.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Your friend told you to be careful.

Actually, everyone tells you to be careful in life. Your parents, grandparents, friends, lovers, the fucking internet. It’s like everyone is so worried about what could happen that they sometimes forget to just do things. You never believed in the supernatural, so when anyone told you to be careful with things like the ouija board, tarot cards, and haunted bridges, you laughed it off light-heartedly. So far, everything has gone well.

Imagine your surprise when the magical book you got from your friend, who had it from her grandmother, who had it from her grandmother, turned out to be an actual relic. One that worked. One that could summon things beyond human comparison. A guidebook to summon demons and dead people. One that called on something so nightmarish it couldn’t be a dream of your own mind anymore.

Like a blob of what looked like snot.

Admittedly, throwing yourself to the ground laughing wasn’t the most respectful thing to do. It was a mix of relief and surprise that your summoning worked while at the same time bringing forth something so… pathetic. Now, had it been a giant, strong demon with horns and wings and fire going everywhere, you definitely would have pissed yourself. However, this… was barely enough to make your toes curl. Shaking your head, you told it, “Gosh, look at you. Kinda disgusting, sorry not sorry,” before picking it up and throwing it out of the fourth-floor window of your apartment and into the community garden.

It wasn’t even sticky or anything, just like a ball of glue slime. Still, you went to wash your hands anyway before returning to your one-room-for-everything-room, staring at the summoning circle you drew on the floor. Even though the slime appeared, it didn’t really work, did it? Must have been a coincidence. Maybe that thing had been a huge bug that had been sitting on your ceiling and fell off. Shrugging, you pushed your soft, white rug over it again, not bothering to wipe the circle off your floor before you moved your furniture over it again, deciding to just leave it in case you needed it again. Big mistake.

For once, you should have heeded the warning to be cautious.

Nothing especially exciting happened after that. You ate dinner, watched some sucky, old rom-com, and headed to bed after checking your emails and brushing your teeth. Just normal stuff. Despite your belief to know better, you left the window closed, just in case that weird bug was coming back, but really, there was a very different window you should have closed after opening it.

You were woken up by a cool feeling around your legs, sighing in your hazy mind as you opened them. The feeling kept creeping up further, caressing your skin in a mix of chilling air and pleasant touch. Even in your half-asleep state, you enjoyed it, not having been intimate with anyone for a long time and missing the caresses on your thighs. There was always the odd night out, and a bit of a dirty dream wasn’t going to stir you until the feeling crawled higher, wrapping around your wrists and lower torso. When you wanted to move them away, you were held back, restricted, and your eyes snapped open, staring at the door at the farthest end of the room.

The sensations began to crawl higher and higher until you felt something akin to a breath—rather, it was a vibration—next to your ear. You were too stunned to turn your head over and face what was waiting for you when it suddenly began to speak. “Human…” The eerie sound it made, between a purr and hiss, rumbling from the chest you expected hovering over you, made no sense in your ear. Instead, it merely formed a thought in your head, allowing you to understand it with its invading voice.

“You didn’t fulfill your promissse,” it snarled, drawing out the s-sound unnaturally.

Feeling your lips quiver, the only thought you could muster was: fuckfuckfuck, as you tried to calm yourself by staying rational. This was all just a dream, right? A joke? Was your friend pranking you? Was it an intruder? A real one or an… otherworldly one? Wetting your lips, you thought back to the ritual you did. How you thought it was funny to offer your body in exchange for all the knowledge in the world so you could pass your tests and get a good job.

Finally, after realizing you’d never know unless you looked at what you were facing, you turned your head over, your eyes widening as you stared into the monstrous visage of… something. Translucent and wobbly, a body hovered over you. Your fingers jerked, gripping the stuff holding them down, and feeling it give in to your touch but never tearing or jerking away. Just… enveloping. Forming around you. It had no eyes but was formed after a human face with lips and nose carved into it. It reminded you of a comic depiction of the devil with horns on its head but no wings from what you could see. And still, you recognized it as a demon.

Shivering at this point, you looked down, but its body seemed to spread out, coating yours in its mass. And all at once, you started to realize the mistake you had made, leaving a portal open to invite whatever you tempted with your offer. “My egg,” it breathed into your mind, the feeling so revolting you wanted to throw up. “It’s preciousss. I wanted to give it to you to carry, ssso you might gain the knowledge you ssseek. Where isss it?”

You didn’t dare to move a muscle, your body shaking. But your glance to the window gave it away. From one second to the other, the expression on the demon’s face fell into disbelief, and a hand appeared out of the dripping slime to wrap around your throat. “Unacceptable!” it bellowed, and you gasped for air as it pressed your windpipe down tightly. “It’s preciousss, and you threw it OUT?!”

All you could do was gurgle, eyes rolling back in your head and your body arching into the demon’s as you still couldn’t move the limbs it still held down. “Oh no,” it snarled angrily. “You’re not going to die. Not after I returned your pathetic call for knowledge.”

Pulling back its slime around your throat, you took a deep breath, coughing as the air began rapidly spreading inside your lungs. “P-Please…” you whimpered, coughing out the words while tears shot into your eyes instinctively. The demon merely huffed at your pathetic attempts to soothe its anger in a way only a human would. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was real! You have to believe me! I didn’t know what I was doing!”

“That is no excussse, Human,” it reprimanded you, and the pressure on your arms and legs grew hurtful, the demon letting out its anger on your weak limbs. There was nothing you could do, not even knowing where its body started and where it ended or how to pry its weird consistency off you. “I will give you one more chance. One more, or I will take from you what I want, and I will not be merciful as you have disssrespected me. Do you understand me?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered. “Anything you say, but please don’t kill me…”

Maybe dying would have been a much better option than this, the demon’s lips curling into a grin enough to ingrain fear into every cell inside your body. It mustered you for a silent moment, and you felt its gaze roam your body despite its lack of eyes. “I’ll treat you jussst like you have treated my gift. You’re mine to do as I please now, understand?”

Nodding was the only thing you could, tongue-tied by fear, while your body slowly became limb from the pressure crushing it and hindering the blood from going through it. Finally, the monster withdrew from you at least far enough, so your arms were freed.

“Then, letsss do this again. I’ll make sure my gift goes where it belongsss this time,” the demon announced, pulling back just enough you felt its body slip under your legs, lifting them and bending them at the knee, pressing them back and to the side, freeing the space to your sex and coating it in its slime again. The fabric around your legs began to dissolve, scraps of it being absorbed and floating around inside the demon as you jumped to action, pressing your hands into its body, only to get stuck inside.

“No!” you yelled, but it was already too late as you felt the slime press into you despite your desperately clenching your hole shut.

“You’ll accept my gift, Human,” it hissed, the pressure intensifying way beyond what you could stop with your tender muscles. “And you’ll give me your body as you promisssed. You belong to me now.”

A scream escaped your throat before it was muffled by the demon’s lips, the slime suddenly hot and sticky against your body, drawing you into it. Preparing you to be taken to the demon’s realm and do god-knows-what. If only you had been careful, this wouldn’t have happened! You should have left the book with your friend where it belonged. Now, the only thing echoing in your apartment was the sloppy sound of slime moving towards the summoning circle, your furniture everywhere but in its place as it dragged you back into the softly glowing portal. The last sound in your mind was the demon’s laugh as your vision turned to black.

But the next time you opened your eyes again, you were met with something even worse than what you had just experienced. Something that was using your body and making your toes curl from fear and pleasure. A shocked cry escaped you right after waking up, and the demon grinned as it emphasized its point, slime slipping in and out from between your legs and leaving a sticky mess where it pounded into you.

“Mine, forever.”

#Sintember 2022 #demons #demon #yandere demons #yandere!demons #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

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elle-mary · 1 year

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(Picrew: here) (https://picrew.me/image_maker/502141)

Name: Samaelis (???)

Species: Demon, Succubus/Incubus

Infromation: He's a demon that lived for a long time. He, himself doesn't know how many people he had sex with. All of it was for his own pleasure and survival. He keeps a veil around his mouth because his saliva has aphrodisiac. It wasn't that strong, but the more years gone by, it become stronger. That's where the veil comes in. The veil is mostly there to not sexually attract someone by accident.

#yandere male #yandere drabble #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere #tw yandere #male yandere #soft yandere #Samaelis my oc #yandere thoughts #yandere core #yandere vent #yandere headcanons #yandere demons

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

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First of all, this blog of yours is a blessing. Your yandere works are just ♡♡♡♡♡ I cannot even put it on words. Thanks to you, now I know Lobotomy Corporation and I can't get enough of it. I need to know more about this game, the lore, the abnormalities and everything it can offer.

And secondly, I don't know much about Der Freischütz & Funeral of the Dead Butterflies, but can I request a yandere drabbles/one-shot/headcanons about them? I don't play the game (yet) but the second I saw those two, they got my attention (and my heart).

I hope I don't bother you with my request.

P.s: did I already say your writings are just that perfect I can't stop re-reading them?

⸸ The Devilish Marksman and the Caged Butterfly ⸸

(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where a sexy butterfly wants to encase you in his coffin, but the devil said no. OOC and fanon are to be expected.)

Note: read until the end for my person message to Anon.

Love.

Der Freischütz might have been a human once, but he never understood what that thing called 'love' was. It was an alien concept, a subject that he could never hope to understand.

So when he was but a mere human, he scoffed at the Devil.

"The person I love most, you say?" he jeered. "No such person exists."

But it did.

Perhaps he have should known given how much he cared about himself and no one else. At the very least, he should have predicted that the seventh bullet would pierce no one else's heart but his own.

One might think he always had one, given how his iciness seemed to always melt off around his favourite Agent, but no.

First and foremost, he became a Devil because his predecessor saw him for what he was. Heartless.

And as a Devil, it would be an insult to call his soul-binding contract something as fickle and fleeting as 'love'.

He found it rather laughable how humans were so desperate for it. Throughout the millennia, he had seen so many blind themselves with rose-tinted glasses because they couldn't stand the thought of anything tarnishing its image.

But if enabling that blindness would make things easier for him, then who was he to complain?

For his beloved little Contractee, he would do anything to be serviceable. Anything to keep them compliant.

He would protect them, teach them how to best use his EGO equipment and gift, and perhaps even take care of them. He could feign politeness, empathy, offer his condolences when he must, and as you must be beginning to see, the Marksman could even play the role of a charismatic gentleman if he wanted to.

It was a front he never bothered with before, since most of his contracts lasted as long as his bounties did.

But for this one, why not?

Heed my warning, though. Never assume for a moment that he would extend that same hospitality to others. That is a privilege belonging only those bound to him.

He might swear to protect them, doing everything in his power to keep them from danger, but the price was insurmountable. The facility would be drained of its energy, and dozens would die, not only because of his magical bullets, but because of all the collateral damage caused by the breaching of other Abnormalities.

It wouldn't matter though.

Damn everyone to hell if anyone other than him were to kill his Contractee.

They might come running to him, demanding or begging him to cease his slaughter. Perhaps they might even even try to teach or urge him to at the very least feign concern for the lives of others, but he never will.

They were his to protect, but he was never theirs to control.

On the contrary, T-01-68 was...he could never be called pliant, but he was certainly more considerate towards his beloved more than the Devil.

Whereas Der Freischütz was blunt and straightforward with his 'affections', the Butterfly would be careful with his words and gestures. Not because he wanted to earn their trust, but because he genuinely wanted to avoid causing them any more unnecessary pain.

God knows how much they had to endure on a daily basis already.

It was well-known across the facility that T-01-68 existed to comfort those left behind, to honor the ones who passed away that didn't have anyone to remember them. It would simply be antithetical of him to hurt his beloved.

He was the shoulder they could cry on. When they wanted to run away from everything, they would come to his containment unit seeking sanctuary.

Not that Devil.

Deep down, the Butterfly was grateful for Der Freischütz being the way he was (and the rest of the Abnormalities for that matter). If not for his crass ways and bloodlust, their little Agent would have never come to him on their own volition.

He could never hurt them.

That was what he truly seemed to believe as he chased after his beloved down the winding hallways, actively seeking them out so he could finally rest their body inside his coffin.

This place was hell. Wasn't the Devil's presence enough confirmation for that? All these monsters, all these fanatics like WhiteNight and Blue Star promised salvation, but their ways were no less gruesome from the other abominations they swore to save their followers from.

While he would never call himself a god, he certainly believed that he was the only one who could truly give them the peace they needed.

If he must kill his beloved himself to keep that promise, he would.

The two would never see eye-to-eye, that much they had long come to accept. For the Marksman, T-01-68 was a headache to deal with, while the Undertaker found F-01-69 utterly difficult to tolerate.

Der Freischutz wanted to keep them alive. They were his to keep.

But the Butterfly wanted to give them the dignified death they deserved. It was the reason why they came to such a hellish place in the first place.

They both had a reason, and neither one were willing to give up.

~~~ End ~~~

First of all, I would like to say thank you, thank you, thank you!

And it's no bother at all. I love to write headcanons, especially snippets, drabbles, and short fics, so I am more than happy to. Honestly, I'm just surprised I didn't get requests from these two, considering how popular they are among the fandom.

P.S: Did I already tell you how much reading this makes me happy? I'd love to see the fandom for this game grow bigger.

#yandere der freischütz #yandere funeral of the dead butterflies #yandere abnormalities #yandere lobotomy corp #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere lobcorp #yandere project moon #yandere male #yandere monsters #yandere cryptids #yandere demons #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere snippet #love-eldritch

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yanderenightmare · 2 months

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TW: yandere, classism, degradation, possessiveness, obsessiveness, blackmail

gn reader - feminine clothing (jewelry: earrings, necklace)

Thinking about your rich boyfriend…

Rich boyfriend – who buys you clothes and jewelry every time you have a date, even when you tell him you feel bad receiving them all – that you have nowhere to wear such nice things – that a simple date is really more than enough.

Rich boyfriend – who ignores you with a smile and shake of his head, asking you how you expect him to stop when you’re just the absolute cutest? Looking at him with those moon-big eyes, humble crinkle between your brows, and your lip tucked nervously between your teeth to keep from gawking.

Rich boyfriend – who orders for you at all the restaurants he takes you to because he knows you’ve never been anywhere like it. Looking so adorably lost in your seat, flushed when staring at the menu written in a language you can’t read – knowing even if you could, you still wouldn't know what any of it meant. You’re so, so, so precious – eyes peeled like you’re a pet who’s just been allowed at the table for the first time.

Rich boyfriend – who plays four instruments, speaks five languages, went to an Ivy League institution, and will inherit his entire family’s business being the spoiled only child that he is.

Rich boyfriend – who just loves the messy household you grew up in – loves how you and your siblings interact with each other, looking like a bundle of pups all crammed in the same cage at a pet store – how your childhood bedroom is the size of his closet – filled with all sorts of trinkets you’ve kept growing up – stuff that would usually wind up in the trash at his house – polaroids of you as a teenager, past boyfriends in kissing booths, prom pictures, concert tickets, and old rusty friendship lockets.

It’s all so… He scoffs. The word for it escapes him.

Suppose he doesn’t quite recognize the pricelessness of sentimental value as opposed to something actually sellable – but he finds it cute that you do.

Though, it bothers him to some degree as well… that you would value an old pair of earrings gifted you by your grandmother instead of the actual antique diamond pair he’d procured for you. After all, one was a real historic piece worth a fortune a Russian duchess had snuck into England during the war, and the other was old junk made by a noname jeweler.

Rich boyfriend – who chokes on his spit when you sit him down and tell him you want to break up – who thinks he’s misheard – that you’re joking, playing some uncultured game he’s never been exposed to, some ill-taste past-time only poor people do to escape their bitter reality.

But you’re not joking…

You’re breaking up with him…You.. You… broke trash of worker-class scum… you’re breaking up with him?

You give him back all his gifts in a cardboard box – telling him you’re grateful but that you truly don’t have any use for such things – that you think your worlds are too different to coincide.

Of course, you refrain from telling him you think he’s a classist snob. You have a feeling it would have gone completely over his head if you’d tried anyway, so there really was no point to it.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who’s never been told no in his entire life…

Rich ex-boyfriend – who buys your street and plans on scrapping it to make brand new mansions in a project he dubs “cleaning up the slums” – evicting and putting you and your entire family out of the home you’d spent your entire life growing up in.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who thinks you’re crawling back to him when you schedule an appointment at his office – who thinks you’re going to come in with bleary wet eyes and grovel like the lowly peasant you are – let him save you from poverty and homelessness, make you his charity case – his pretty diamond in the rough who’s never quite able to wash all the coal off.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who trashes that same office when you leave after having given him the address to the pawnshop you sold the one pearl necklace you’d kept as a token of your relationship – telling him he should feel free to go down there and get it back – that you’re using the money to buy a better house and you just wanted to come and thank him for that.

Of course, you wanted to slap him too – spit on his tie or maybe just take a piss on his desk – but you left it at that.

Rich ex-boyfriend – whose next move is to buy your family business, who hires a private eye to dig up dirt on you and all your family, burying you in fines from age-old petty crimes, gets you kicked from your scholarship.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who goes to that pawnshop and reports the pearl necklace as a stolen item and has the police arrest you. Spinning a story about how he thought you were this humble sweet thing, only for you to rob him behind his back.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who comes to visit you in the custody suite where you sit cooped up with all the other wretched mutts on the cold concrete floors – scolding you for making him come down to a dirty police precinct, for having him breathe the same air as all the lowlives held up there.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who tells you he’ll make it all go away.

He’ll drop the charges, let your family keep their house – or buy them an even better one, whichever you prefer – he’ll even promote your family business and pay for all your siblings' education – he’ll give you everything.

Anything you want, it’s yours.

But he owns you.

BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

BLLK – Reo, Rin

HxH – Illumi

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 3 months

Text

Infernal Shadows

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.

A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 2655

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two

Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.

Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.

The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.

Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.

“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.

“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.

“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.

“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.

“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.

“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.

“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.

“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.

“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.

“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.

“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.

Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.

“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.

“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”

“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.

As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.

The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.

The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.

“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.

“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.

“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.

“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.

On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.

On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.

In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.

Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.

“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.

“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.

“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.

“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.

“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.

“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.

“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.

“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.

“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.

“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.

“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.

“Well~ this should be fun.”

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yanderemommabean · 4 months

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Yandere Incubus/Succubus

Just not able to get enough of you and getting so addicted they simply can’t leave you alone. Your sleep paralysis turns from usual horrific scenarios to you being at the mercy of a wickedly skilled mouth and glowing eyes

-Mommabean

#mommabean #yandere demons #yandere exophilia #yandere smut #ish #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere incubus #yandere succubus #yandere dubcon #yandere noncon

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ozzgin · 2 months

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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.

-Doll

This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)

Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader

As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)

[Part 2]

You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.

A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.

Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.

This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.

You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.

"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.

He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.

Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.

The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.

You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.

His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."

Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.

What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere demon king #yandere male x reader #gender neutral reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #yandere oc

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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months

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Thinking about a Yandere Demon Lord. This is Part 1.

Yandere Head Canons:

Defying Destiny

Yandere Demon Lord x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero

TW: Voyeurism, stalking, Somniaphilia, dacryphillia, dark content, etc

Part 2

You were surprised to be alive after your cold fiancé pushed you into oncoming traffic when you got into an argument with him… all you had wanted was for him to show you that he loved you, but instead he killed you. Yet your life didn’t end… no. Far from it.

Rather than waking up in the supposed after life, you woke up in the Rerenth Kingdom. A fantasy kingdom in a magical world plagued with problems written in fiction novels. And the emperor explained to you, no, demanded that you to take on your role as Saintess to save them from the Demon King.

The demon king was now your enemy. Defeating him was the only way for you to go home… but did you even want to do that? In your last life and in this one, you were merely another unhappy pawn. The silk robes and dazzling abilities did nothing to shield you from the harsh reality of what your life has become once more… would you ever truly be free? Would you ever truly be happy?

The servants often spoke of the monstrous Demon King who controlled the forces of darkness that sought to destroy the light. A demonic entity none of the people in this kingdom had ever truly seen with their own eyes, but they believed him to be out there… how else were they to explain the supernatural happenings that plagued their kingdom? This entire ordeal made little sense to you since you hadn’t seen many disputes between humans and demons unless they were over territory. Vast majority of the time, it was humans that ventured into the demonic lands anyways. Was this perhaps some propaganda tactic? You didn’t know and you didn’t question it, you simply wanted to retire to a peaceful life.

It took a few weeks for you to be able to control your new holy power, but you were able to now harness it for barriers and for healing. Abilities that would be useless without a hero… a fact that the citizens soon realized so they began to devise another plan. To summon a hero!

Another few weeks passed by and they successfully summoned a valiant hero by the name of Reinhardt. His chiseled face was constantly covered by the taxidermied lion mask that adorned his face. The man was massive and intimidating, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about him. You couldn’t place a finger on who he could possibly be since you didn’t know anyone else with an imposing stature like his but that gut feeling never left you.

Reinhardt would often glance you up and down when he thought you weren’t looking. His green eyes would bore into yours until you felt as if you’d be set ablaze. He was terrifying to you. Especially now that you were on a journey with him to defeat the demon king… along with a fox beastwoman fighter and an elven mage who had joined your party due to the emperor’s order. The Emperor didn’t see you to be enough aid to the hero on this important quest.

Both adventurers were quite rude to you at first since you had no offensive abilities. They often fawned over the hero who blatantly ignored their affections to instead watch over you like a hawk. A fact the two women didn’t really enjoy, but they accepted it as the weeks melted into months. And you still didn’t know their names since they never told you (and Reinhardt never spoke).

The three of them often fought and killed monsters and demons while you protected the supplies and healed their injuries. It upset you that your party ambushed them since the enemies usually were unarmed. Majority of the time, it was a one-sided slaughter. An endless bloodbath that you had no power to stop.

You often lied to your peers about monsters hiding, unaware that your small act of kindness would lead to a snowball effect in the future. You had now caught the eye of an entity much stronger than you and the hero’s party… all because you were merciful. You were kind and sweet. A true saintess.

Your softness had made your peers joke about you being a cry baby. The elven mage and beastwoman often jabbed their elbows into your side to joke about the tears you’d cry because they thought you were scared. The dense women never realized your tears were for the innocent monsters they slaughtered on a day to day basis too. You were never scared of the demons or monsters, you were scared of them.

Yet Reinhardt nipped the subtle bullying in the bud by shoving the other two adventures away from you with his strong arms. He always made sure you were safe before he offered his body for healing… which he’d just make gesture at you with his hands rather than speak. It seemed he was fond of you, a fondness you didn’t understand since he never spoke to you.

Reinhardt would often pick you up without asking you and tuck you into the crook of his large arm. It bothered you that he never took off his mask, but he had quite an attractive jawline with the slightest bit of stubble. There was not a doubt in your mind that Reinhardt was likely an attractive man, but that didn’t matter. Since he was creepy.

Reinhardt never uttered a word to you but would always dutifully stand by your side (or carry you like some sort of damsel). He often reminded you of your ex fiancé with his stoic demeanor and his bewitching green eyes. And the staring. You swore you felt bare under his gaze even if you had multiple layers on.

And it wasn’t just his eyes you felt on you, you swore there was someone else watching you in the shadows and the possibility of you having another stalker made your skin crawl. Had you finally gone insane from having Reinhardt be around you 24/7? Or was there something sinister amiss?

Maybe that’s why Reinhardt so dutifully clung to you? Whether his protection was out of obligation or simply because he lusted for you, his presence did little to ease the extra set of eyes. In fact, he made it worse.

Wherever you were, Reinhardt was never far. He was with you when you bathed to stand guard. He was carrying you if you couldn’t keep up with him and the rest of the hero’s party. Reinhardt even began to stay in your tent with you…

He didn’t utter a word when he watched over you whenever you had nightmares. Reinhardt never woke you up from the horrific dreams of the man with pitch black hair and sharp talons pulling you into his lap and having his way with you. No, Reinhardt instead dragged his tongue down your tear stricken face in delight.

Reinhardt knew his actions were wrong, but he couldn’t help but fawn over your helpless form. You were so weak without his protection… you were a lamb sent to a slaughter that luckily had a herding dog with you. You should be grateful Reinhardt had such an intense interest in you, otherwise you could have perished earlier on at the goblin camps. Or those other two party members would have likely broken a few of your bones from rough housing. You were a frail bird that needed to be locked up at all times and Reinhardt was willing to be the one to do that! He would keep you safe, even if it took you years to understand even an ounce of his magnitude of feelings for you. He was a patient man!

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up in your tent with Reindhart’s imposing form standing over you ominously. You’d cry every single time, but he’d make no move to comfort you. Only stare.

Over the last four weeks, you begin to receive little trinkets in your tent on the daily. Delicacies that Reinhardt would immediately pitch once he saw them, but it filled you with anxiety that he was not the one slipping you those gifts… who on earth could be gifting you such pretty rocks and wild flowers?

You were flattered, just the tiniest bit, by the small, temporary gifts. They were much more welcomed than the iron grip of Reinhardt’s arms. Even though the sender made you anxious, it was nice to know that someone took you into consideration. It was a small action that filled you with hope. Perhaps you would be saved from this fate?

Shame you didn’t understand just how much those tiny gifts upset the hero. Your eyes should only be on him. Your entire purpose should revolve around him. Reinhardt wanted to find the individual who sent you these gifts so he could rip them limb from limb. You belonged to him and he would show you that you had no way of escaping him. You were going to be his bride! Whether you liked it or not, the hero had chosen you as his destined one!

Recently, you’d wake up to him laying beside you in your tent with his large arms wrapped around you. His Roman nose buried into the crook of your neck. This was far worse than him lingering in your tent since he had become so physical.

And your peers did nothing about his harassment of you. To them, it was cute that the hero was so ‘enamored’ with the Saintess! You’ve even heard whispers of how the emperor will no doubt arrange a marriage between the two of you once the four of you eliminated the demon king. It terrified you even more because you knew you’d have little say in the matter… your life was spiraling out of your own control once more. This time, into the arms of some brute with attachment issues. You didn’t want to marry another emotionally constipated man! You wanted to have freedom!

You often cried yourself to sleep which only made Reinhardt even more overbearing. He now would press kisses to your cheeks and cuddle his body into yours. Even in your dreams, you couldn’t escape this massive man. If only you could be saved…

And when you drifted off into an unnaturally heavy sleep, your barriers deactivated. An action that allowed the Demon King to finally slip into your party’s camp and take what he wanted. You.

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