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yanaleese · 2 months

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◈ Love Me, Kidnap Me, and Love Me More ◈

Yandere! OC Karma x Calculative! Gender Neutral! MC

VER EN ESPAÑOL. MUY PRONTO

Synopsis: You put blood, sweat, and tears into your work. Little did you know, your secret admirer, Marka does it too.

Content warning: Yandere and literally anything that goes with it, violence, hypnosis (not on reader), drugs (implication), and yes there will be a Part 2

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Scores, talents, personas.

THESE are the factors that classify the education system. Although not immaculate, it serves its purpose - to send vulnerable people into the workforce, and devour them whole. Their livelihoods, their time, and the minuscule bits of energy left inside of them.

But there are some who are born with advantages, and some who have to work their ass off for it.

I, unfortunately, have the latter. Things don’t come easy, instant, or perfect. I am actually quite idle, I enjoy the freedom of gaining knowledge and insight. Uniquely, tried and tested knowledge that is critical for survival.

And that, is how I manage my late nights. By listening to “Advice to Survive” with its host, McGregory Callahan.

Back in the 60s, he was a CWO-4 Navy Seal officer, a rank given to an exclusive few. And now that he’s retired, he humbly shares his advice to the community, and showcases guests every now and then to keep the show alive. But majority prefers to listen to his voice, which I strongly agree with.

“And so, ladies and gents…” His voice was smooth and husky. “It’s time to sign off, folks. Stay safe, and always remember…” I chuckled, saying his closing lines with him.

“Live, not die, and try to survive. Thanks everyone.”

As the radio chipped off, the sun poured its rays into my window, as if the heat wasn’t enough. I groaned, my eyes leading me to my collection of “wake-up” capsules. Tempted, and deceived, I slithered my way over to it, dropping another 2 or 3 in my mouth.

I grumbled. Regret seeped into my veins, my body woozy and tense. Once again, I stayed up.

And of course, it happened to be a Monday morning; where I had a morning class. “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” I began stuffing my bag with my utensils, paperwork, snacks. I could never get used to this shit. “I hope nobody pisses me off for the rest of the day.”

◈

“The bell. Ugh, the damn bell. Never have I wanted to smash that thing into pieces.” You could barely make out the crowd, more or less. Not even your best friend’s face.

“Wait. You had a rough night…again?” Heidi glared, her eyes were practically glowing with concern.

“Maaaaaaybe.” You slurred, taking baby steps to your seat. “Good thing my seat mate is a quiet kid.”

Speak of the devil, Marka entered the room, his footfalls silent as he strolled to your direction. His timing was impeccable.

“Good morning, Marka.” You mumbled, your eyes not meeting his. Besides, there were no eyes thanks to his bangs.

“Heh…” In response, Marka gave an exciting grin, happily waving a good morning back to you. How he could be energized on a Monday morning, was a complete mystery to you.

Actually, a lot of him is shrouded in mystery. Or rather, in suspicion.

Other than the weird name, Marka was supposedly from the countryside of Honduras, Tegucigalpa. His parents were also from Honduras, and he worked as a pizza delivery driver, and stayed at a friend’s apartment for shelter, with the purpose of redoing college thrice to get a degree. While some of this is true, some of it didn’t add up.

For example, his idioms. Sometimes he would say “Puchica” , “Chero”, “Chivo” - and when I looked them all up, the common denominator was El Salvador. He said his parents came from Honduras, so how can this be true?

“[Y/N].”

Then him, being the pizza delivery driver. You don’t often order pizza, but you’ve never thought that pizza could smell so shitty. You could remember him rushing to one of your afternoon classes, and instead of smelling like oil and grease, he smelt like weed. What the fuck???

“Hello? [Y/N]?”

Plus, the fact that he is redoing the course a third time. And yet, every single exam he is perfectly scoring an average mark. He also ends before everyone else, as if he has all the time in the world.

That’s not normal.

Though you’ve never confronted Marka about this, you preferred to remain silent. Times are harsh, and you weren’t willing to stretch out a hand when you could barely help yourself.

But there is NO way that you’re befriending someone as suspicious as him.

“[Y/N]!!!” Heidi whisper-shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“[Y/N], please answer-“ Mr. Dimmy paused, clearing his throat. “Actually. On second thought, please see me after class. Thank you.”

You bit my lip, letting it bleed. Fuck. You spaced out again.

“Sir I-“

“No buts, no coconuts.”

While cursing yourself internally, you decided to take out your vent book out of your bag, only to be stopped by Mr. Dimmy once more.

“[Y/N]. Can you please answer the question on the board for me, please?”

Shit, you just opened your bag.

“Give me a moment-“

“[Y/N].”

Clenching your fists, you gave a plastic smile. It was understandable where he was coming from, since he didn’t want his star pupil to daydream for the second time.

“My bad, Sir. Hopefully I’ll get this right.”

As you were busy solving the equation, Marka decided to do you a favor and close up your bag. So by the time you came back, Marka grinned, hoping for a thanks to come out of it. But you decided to ignore the kind gesture, continuing to pay attention to the board. You had enough attention for one day.

◈

If there was one thing you loved, it was clocks. It was nice to know how the time passed, whether it was rapid or abnormally slow. And of course, it was slow.

“[Y/N], this has happened on multiple occasions.” Mr. Dimmy rubbed his temples, exhausted from having the same conversation with you. “We, as staff, made it clear that you can take days off.”

“I’m very sorry Sir, but I can’t do that-“

“[Y/N], enough with the excuses. You are not enough getting enough sleep, and it’s affecting your concentration.”

Scores, talents, personas: nothing on this conversation applied to that. Kindness was a pain in the ass.

“And so, I’m going to ask the dean to personally give you a suspension. A whole week suspension.”

You had to hold your tongue. Why do you have to do triple the work???

“Sir. I’m behind on what I need to cover. I’m begging you, please just let it slide.”

“But [Y/N], you are three weeks ahead. Taking a week off is enough right now. Trust me.”

You glanced at the clock. It was 9:47, the minute hand approximately reaching the next minute.

“If I see you Tuesday afternoon, I will personally escort you outside. That is all.”

Rubbing your eyes, you ran to the top of the stairs, before making yourself out. You couldn’t believe what just happened.

“[Y]-[Y/N]…” It was Heidi.

“Heidi. I’m done for the day, so I’m going home. Text me later if you’re curious.” Your demands were quick and stern.

Poor Heidi snuggled her books, her expression shaping into pity and guilt. If only you could just take a break.

◈

“Giggles, after giggles. These fucking cuches don’t know when to quit it, don’t they?”

“Markaaaa…” She snorted, sounding exactly just like he called her: a pig. “Teach me a little Spanish, no?~ ❤️”

Marka shook his head, his face clearly showing discomfort.

“Come on, we wanna hear it! Maybe we can fuck it up, you know?”

Damn that Rico bastard. He never knew how to read a room.

“I said no.” Marka ran his fingers through his bangs, revealing the swirling darkness within his eyes. “Now learn to be good little shits, I’m in a bad mood.”

Immediately, the entire group stood completely still. Before seconds later, horrifying shrieks escaped people’s lips. Some froze in horror, sweating profusely. Others just ran away from Marka, while some fought with him. Luckily, thanks to his physique he could handle his attackers pretty clearly.

“Ha…shame…” He continued to hit Rico with every punch, starting to see blood oozing out of him. Marka couldn’t help but grin in sadistic glee. “This hypnosis is always pure luck for me.”

Grabbing the leg of one of his classmates. Marka twisted, fractured, and even jumped on her leg, which was perfectly in sync with his words.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” Marka cursed out loud, growling in frustration. Every time he thought about you, the feeling wouldn’t go away. “I just wanted to do a good deed. Why. Won’t. They. Love. Me.”

Hearing the classmate’s sharp cry, Marka kicked the person away from him, heading to your locker. It was encased in a shitload of locks, all of them personally made by yourself. You knew how to be efficient and useful.

Too bad Marka knew lockpicking a bit too well. “It’s been a while since my last rejection…so let’s see what’s here now-“

With a clink, he guided his fingers to first few letters he made….only to find them….

Crushed.

“….”

He should’ve been used to this by now. The dust, the grime, the dead spiders. After finally getting a fresh new locker, it was understandable that you cleaned up the space.

But you didn’t. You decided to make your old locker your new dumpster bag instead - including his love letters.'

His scarred thumb clutched the pink envelope, or the crushed up ball that it was. He could remember the time he had to go off on business, missing college for an entire week. He had to stay low due to a shot out, which resulted him gaining a major injury in the shoulder and his left hand. He didn’t mind the injuries due to past experiences, but he was…depressed. Marka couldn’t see anyone, neither be online lest he got found out. It was a decision that both he and José made for his safety.

And so, to satiate his loneliness, he wrote to you. Even though his left hand was twitching in pain, he wrote. Even though his brain was telling him to stop because of the pain; he wrote. He wrote because he knew that you gave him the happiness, the hope that he needed for this world. Yes, you were flawed…but with each other, the two of you could heal one another’s scars. Right?

“….Ha….”

His hands shook in silent rage as dark droplets dropped on to the paper. I’m sure you didn’t know any better, it was simply a misunderstanding. Yes, yes - it was miscommunication.

It was understandable, since he didn’t make it clear. He didn’t flirt with you since it wasn’t your thing. I guess the letters weren’t either.

Maybe he’d have to try something…a bit more drastic.

“I need to know…do they love me…? Do they not? Maybe….”

Clutching the paper in his chest, he started chuckling to himself. No, grinning madly as he stared at the locker in front of him, his face contorted into something twisted and grotesque.

“Maybe it’s time I should pay your house a visit, hmm? ❤️~.”

NOTES:

Cuche = Means pig in Salvadorian slang. ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏ qᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴋᴀʀᴍᴀ, ᴊᴏsᴇ́ ᴏʀ ʜᴇɪᴅɪ ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ɪɴʙᴏx.

#karma #karma imagines #qc #karma lore??? not rly #i mean....I wouldn't say karma lore. Maybe Karma imagine?#yeah cause this relies on probability...so.#male yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere blog #yancore #yandere male #yande.re #yandere boy #yandere mafia #yandere x male darling #yandere x darling

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plush-rabbit · 1 year

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Nullified Quirk

Request: ASFGSGSHS IDEA!!!

Shigaraki fucking Aizawas daughter/student/someone v close to him, and having Aizawa be forced watch and use his quirk so Shigaraki can touch her fully without her truning into dust

Shameful anon time, too embarrassed =w=' TW: Noncon Word Count: 4K A/N: don't be ashamed here, i started this blog with shameful stuf so please feel free to be gross and never apologize for it here

A copycat quirk isn’t rare, but it isn’t common. Yours is particularly strong with you not only gaining access to quirks- mutants even- but also gaining their appearance. It’s a useful quirk when the situation turns sticky.

No one really expected the underground hero, Eraserhead, to take a new hero under his wing, much less make the so-called new hero his official sidekick, and yet, there you were, standing beside him, ready to be his sidekick.

You preen when he praises you, with each pat on the top of your head, and each and every small introduction further into his life makes you feel special. He treats you as his kid, and you love that, you love knowing that the Eraserhead is more than that to you. He’s your mentor, he’s the one who patches you up after missions, he’s the one that you can call for a ride at two in the morning. He’s Shota for you.

Of course, you aren’t the only one that finds him so much greater than others. You remember the U.S.J. incident, and how the villain there mentioned how cool Eraserhead was- or is. You aren’t sure where his feelings stand now. You remember how the villain looked at you when Shota protected you- how the villain’s eye that was visible behind the hand had widened with realization at who you were when your name was screamed. Ever since then, you’ve felt as if you've been watched, and no matter the amount of eyes that you took, you could never find whoever or whatever it was that was prying into your life.

Now, you run alongside Eraserhead, clad in your own hero outfit that resembles his. Your boots splash against the puddles of water left from the rain. Air whips beside you, a strong hand gripping at your forearm lifts you into the air and you turn to see Eraserhead use his binding cloth to swing you both over a dumpster that was shoved into the way by the escaping villain.

The villain with the blue hair turns sharply. You stumble into the ground when you’re drooped, hand indented and scratched with loose pebbles, and your nails scratch at the concrete as you give a sharp turn, watching the villain enter the building,

“Shota!” Your wrists hurt, and the smell of wet trash is sticking to your clothes. “He went inside!” You push yourself forward, opening the door, only hearing your mentor’s words a second too late to hold on.

The inside of the building is trashed- graffiti painted on the walls, empty boxes and flat cardboard littered across the floor, and surprisingly, a few of the fluorescent lights still work, giving the building an eerie glow. You turn yourself around, arms outstretched and balled into fists, eyes scanning the corners of the room, wishing that you had copied- you freeze. You see him, standing in the corner, concealed in the shadows.

You take off towards him, and in a second, something wraps around your ankles and drops you to the floor. Your head smacks into the floor, and you howl in pain with tears in your eyes. Whatever it is that is wrapped around your ankle drags you and you squirm, unable to lift yourself up to undo whatever it is. Behind you, the door bangs open, and you stretch your neck to see Shota rush towards you, only for something to latch onto him, and pull him down, his head smacking into the floor.

“Shota!” Yelling only worsens the pain in your head, and your twist you body. Your palms smack against the floor, and you’re desperate to stop yourself. You're only able to watch as he lifts his head, arms outstretched towards you as he tries to raise himself up. You aren’t sure why he’s saying no, and your vision is beginning to blur around the edges. Bile is on your tongue, and something warm trickles down the side of your face.

You barely register that it’s blood.

Hands grab at your head and jerk you back into looking at the ceiling. You gasp, and twist upon yourself and you see him standing above you, his eye looking down at you and in your haze of blood and nausea, he looks monstrous. The hand that covers his face is menacing, and it seems like it's warping around him, distorting his features and you can’t register what’s going on around you.

Something cold holds onto your body and you think it’s death approaching, that the hit to your head was too harsh- it already feels as if your brain is spilling out and turning into mush inside of you. Shigaraki is above you, grabbing at your body, and you’re going cold, goosebumps rising over your body, and nails scratching at your skin. Your calves are bare and cold, but your thighs are constricted and you lift your head. In a cruel world, this is when your body returns to itself, and you watch as the villain undoes your pants and pulls them off, letting them dust off beside him.

“No,” you mumble, lifting your hands and grabbing at the hem of your shirt and pulling it down. Your mind is catching up to what your eyes see, and you try to protect yourself, very much aware of how bare you’re becoming. “No, fuck,” you slur out, spit bubbling at the corner of your mouth as you start to take deep breaths. Something wraps around your ankle and drags you around the floor and you turn your head and kick out your legs, and you see Shota looking at you when you turn, and you freeze.

He looks away the moment that you catch his eyes.

“Look at me,” he hisses, and grabs you by the chin, making you look at him. “You only look away when I tell you to.” His hand wraps around your neck, and you take a sharp breath.

There’s a sharp pain that starts around your neck, it’s like your skin is being scraped slowly and painfully, each layer and centimeter pulled away quickly and it hurts. Tears are in your eyes and streaming down your face, and you’re calling for your mentor, nails on the concrete and blood dampening your hair. You scream, legs kicking into the ground and hands wrapped tight around a wrist, desperate to pull it away, and just like that, the harsh pain is numbed down, and your head is twisted to where Eraserhead is laid down, his hair standing on its ends, and eyes glowing.

He’s looking at him.

He’s looking at you.

He’s being forced to watch whatever is about to happen.

He’s going to watch.

The realization makes your intestines twist into a tight knot, and sweat forms under your arms and in the back of your knees. Your shirt is ripped from your body, the quality fabric torn as if it were nothing, made and held by weak stitches, and you try to cover the parts of yourself that you have only seen in the mirror. You try to fight and pull away, try to push yourself away from him, and in your injured body and weak mind, you are quickly overpowered by the villain above you.

His hands roam your body, all five fingers dragging over every inch of exposed skin. It pulls on your underwear, dragging them to your ankles, a hand on your ankle, and the other fisting cloth into his nose as he takes a deep breath with his eyes shut. “Setting up the trap wasn’t all that difficult you know?” He pulls down his pants, boxers going down. His cock is semi-hard and you’re realizing that this isn’t a scare, it’s him making a point. The head is red, a gossamer string of precum leaking from his slit and dripping onto the inside of your thigh. It bobs into a stand as he tucks your underwear into his pocket, fabric peeking out to mock you. You hope that you pass out. “You both have enough enemies that they were more than happy to help.” His hands are on your chest, nails scratching down the valley between your breasts, and stopping above your belly button. “I wonder if they knew what I was planning to do.” He moves the hand away from his face and his smile is stretched thin, teeth slick with saliva and pointed like a monster.

His teeth latch onto your nipple, and he rolls the bud around with his teeth, squishing it between the bone and tugging it away. It’s uncomfortable, and you try to push him off, hands shoving him away, but it only has him grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his cock. Nails imbed themselves into his shoulders, flecks of red peeking between the skin and nail, and it does nothing to stop him from suckling so sweetly on your breasts.

Spit and tongue roll off your pert nipple, his cheeks hollow as he humps your body, the other hands pinching and groping the other breast. You can feel every roll and flex of the pink muscle, feel it be pushed and teased between teeth, and the stimulation between your breasts and the restless humping makes your cunt slick. He lets your breast go with a pop, and moves over to where the neglected teat is burning hot with blood and ache; his breath is hot over it, and you beg for him to stop.

“I love your tits so much,” he says. “I always jerk off to your photos, ya know.” And with that, he gives the same attention to the breast, suckling and teething, his cock hot and hard on the inside of your thigh.

Bruises coat your chest, a deep hue of blood that’s been rushed and flutters over to where he’s touched will serve as a reminder far past when you’ve cleaned his spit off of you. He licks your face, the tip of his tongue starting at your chin, and the flat of his tongue going up in a long stripe across his face. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way that his tongue felt on you.

You won’t forget how rough he was when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. It swipes across the roof of your mouth, across your teeth, and between your lips and teeth, running over the gums. His tongue is fat, spit pooling past the corner of your lips and running down your chin and over your jaw. Your heart beats fast in your chest, flutters like a captive bird, and you are aware of the eyes that are on you, how every second that you aren’t dead, is because you have an audience.

Hands paw and slap against his chest as he deepens the kiss, so desperate to taste you that his own taste and stench will never leave you. Your cunt drips and stains the floor beneath you. His tongue is still in your mouth, invading and seeking over every inch that he can claim, and his cock rubs between your cunt, spreading your lips apart to rub his cockhead over your hardened clit, and he moans into the kiss.

“I wanted to wait until you were begging for me to fuck you,” he whispers, lips wet against yours, “but I need to feel you. Wanna stick my dick deep in your pussy,” he mumbles.

He stretches you painfully, pushes his cockhead in and without waiting for you to adjust, slams his hips until they’re pressed against yours. You scream until your throat feels raw, and you cover your eyes, sniffling and crying, kicking your legs out and trying to think of anything other than the feeling of being ripped apart. “Fuck!” A string of curses taint the air between the three of you, and you’re left hearing him, how deep his voice goes, the way that it croaks and how desperate it is with every thrust that he gives to you.

“How do you think your mentor is going to look at you, huh?” His eyes are crazed and from his neck, a hue of red is blossoming, and he gives his entire being into pushing inside of you. “You think he’ll think of you the same as before? Or will- fuck-” He dips his head down and hides himself in the crook of your shoulder- “will he think of you as the slut sidekick who fucked a villain in front of him? Do you think he’ll jerk off and think about your tits being sucked on and hearing the sloppy noises that your pussy is making?”

You wheeze and gasp for air. He’s too heavy. He reeks of sweat and musk, and it’s filling your senses; your lungs are filled with him, he’s invading every inch of you, and no matter where you turn your head, you see him, and you feel him.

“Shigaraki-” you hiccup- the soles of your boots digging into the concrete below- “please stop, please.” It’s getting harder to breathe, and you don’t know if you’ll survive into the next day. You worry about how long you’ll be trapped under him, how long you’ll feel him.

There’s a sharp pain when he pulls back and slams his hips into you. There’s no pacing, it's quick and brutal, already searching for his own high and grunting above you like an animal. “Say my name again.” You can feel his cock stretch you, the girth of it feeling as if it’s going to rip you apart, but that could also be how unprepared you were to take him. “I wanna hear you say my name when I fill your pussy with my cum.” You feel something thick and warm slide down your neck and over your shoulder.

Your eyes widen, and you arch your back when his teeth bite at your neck. Your cunt squeezes around him, and you feel him shudder, moaning into you, stiffening and moaning loudly into your ear. You realize that he’s already finished, and yet he’s still inside of you, still erect and twitching his cock in you.

“‘M gonna fuck you over and over again till I’m drained,” he says so softly against the shell of your ears. “I want you to take my seed. Gonna push it so far up your cunt, wanna make sure that you always remember this day.” You cry, and he kisses away the tears, slowly pumping his cock into you- loud squelching sounds fill the room, and you feel his semen run down the inside of your thighs. “I don’t think I could ever forget this day. Every time I see you, I’m gonna think about your pussy and how wet you are.” He lifts his head and turns it over to face Eraserhead. “Can you hear them?” You refuse to look that way. “They’re clenching over my cock. I’m surprised you never laid them down and fucked them. You ever use your cloth on them? Bind their limbs and press them against a wall and use their pussy?” He’s gotten quicker, the mental image of your mentor doing something so perverse only adds to his arousal.

“When I escape, I swear I’ll-”

Eraserhead is cut off by you. You can’t stand to hear him, so you wail, and hide yourself behind your hands. “Stop- please.” Your voice is muffled behind your hands, thick and slurred, your plead for him to stop talking. He won’t stop fucking you until he’s had his full, untill you’ve been filled, but you just need him to stop talking. Slowly, your body reacts to the stimulation, and the opening of your cunt doesn’t sting as much.

The villain is monstrous, touching you softly, pinching at your nipples and stretching them until you yelp. His hands touch your body, and you’re surprised that Eraserhead has gone this long without blinking. “You feel so good,” he says, kissing you at the end, his tongue pushing into your mouth and swirling all over, pulling apart with a string of spit connecting the two of you. His face is flushed, and he looks down at you. “Fuck, I think I could fall in love with your pussy,” he says so earnestly. “So fucking glad that I got to fuck you.” You see the inside of his cheeks hollow, and he opens his mouth, a thick spring of drool pools out and is left on your cheek, sliding down to your hair. “If being a hero doesn’t work, ‘m sure someone will pay a fortune to sink their cock into your greedy pussy.”

You do your best to stop the growing arousal. You can’t muster up any coherent thoughts, other than a few babbling words that have you choking on your tears.

“Tell him that you’re a slut,” he spits out. “Look at him and tell him how much you loved being fucked.” You start to plead for him to stop, that you won’t do that- that you can’t- but then he wraps his hand around your throat. “I may not be able to use my quirk, but I can still kill you,” he says in a low voice. “So turn your head and tell Eraserhead how much of a whore you are.”

Reluctantly, you turn your head and you choke on your words, your chest sputtering and heart beating rapidly as if it were going to burst out of your chest. “I’m a-” you stutter- “I’m a slut. You focus on Earserhead’s forehead, trying to not pay attention at how strained and exhausted he looks from having his head slammed to the ground and having to keep his quirk active for so long. “I’m a whore,” you sob.

“Yell my name. Tell him how much you love having your pussy stuffed with my cock.”.

“I love having my-” you sob, turning and shaking your head, unable to keep going, but you’re met with a slap across your face that has your cheek pulsing and burning with blood. You wheeze and your head is forced to turn to face your mentor. “I love having my pussy stuffed with Shiaragki’s cock.”

“Say it again,” he moans, slamming his hips into yours, his movements slowly turning sloppy. “I want you to yell it out loud.”

“I love Shigaraki’s cock! I love his cock so much,” you wail, thighs clenching and legs kicking out.”

He gives your clit a sharp slap, making you wince and clench around him, jerking your hips to meet his. “Look at him and tell him that.” You look at him with wide eyes. “Tell your mentor how much you love my cock- how you love the feeling of it. Do it before I decide to choke you.”

You squint your eyes shut, and take a shuddering breath before turning over to look at Eraserhead. The tears in your eyes that stream down, only help so much to obscure your vision. “I love Shiagaraki’s cock! I love how it feels inside of me!”

“Fuck!” He curses out. He’s getting close and you hope that this will be the end. “Tell him how you’re a fucking slut. How you want me to fuck you like a whore. How you love villain cock and want my villain cum in your greedy pussy,” he commands, wrapping his hand around your throat.

You hesitate and his hand tightens around you, nails breaking your skin, until you’re choking and flailing your limbs. “I’m a slut,” you cough out, spitting wetting the floor beneath you. With each raggedy breath, you say a vile sentence out loud, hoping that he’ll ejaculate into you already. “I want Shigaraki to fuck me like a whore.” The knot in your stomach is starting to tighten, and you kick your legs out, clenching your cunt around his cock. “I love villain cock and I want Shigaraki to cum in my greedy pussy,” you bawl, biting down on your lip when you feel your high finally start to tear through your body.

Your body tenses and a rush of water spills out of you, spraying over him and your left crying on the floor as the villain pumps into you. “Ha!” He laughs manically. “Did you see that Earserhead? They’re a squirter!”

Left sensitive, your body shakes and twitches, the inside of your cunt, wet and squishy with your arousal and his seed. He kisses you again, and wet, sloppy kisses peppered over your face, as he moans out your name, and lets his weight fall above you. You’re crushed, and his hand squirms between the two of you, letting the flat of his hand rest over the soft swell of your stomach.

“Your pussy really is the best,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your cheek as his cock twitches it’s own arousal into you.

His weight is heavy above you, crushing your chest and suffocating you. With him still inside of you, you can feel his cock twitch and leak something inside of you. The fluorescent lights make your head hurt. You feel his lips press against the side of your face and tears slide down to wash where his lips have touched you. His hand cups over your breast, and pinches at the abused nipple. You feel him smile when you let out a whine.

“You felt so good,” he mumbles. “I wish I could keep you- fuck you whenever I wanted and kiss you whenever.” You feel heavy.

The weight disappears and he lifts you up, your body limp like a doll, and your mind empty, eyes staring into nothing. He drags you with him, nails digging into your wrist and there’s something leaking out of you, a thick warm trail sliding down the inside of your thigh as your feet stumble on the ground. His breath is warm beside the shell of your ear, and it makes your skin burn, feeling like a rash is breaking out and spreading itself down your neck and flaming your chest. You’re let go, and you fall without support and the pain on your knees and the slamming of the door brings you back to reality.

Your eyes dart around the room until you find your mentor, still staring at you, legs bound to the floor and nails scraped with crimson tinting at his fingertips. You’re not sure what to do. A breath fills your lungs, and it quickly leaves. Another enters, sharper and shakier, and your breaths are heavy, chest rising and falling, with tears welling in your eyes and dripping down your cheeks and landing on your chest. Your arms wrap around your body, nails scratching at the exposed skin and scratching down, desperate to peel away what he’s touched.

Screams are muffled by your hand, legs pinched tight and eyes staring at the ground that’s covered in grime. You can feel his heaviness on you, and you want the ground to swallow you, to open a cavern underneath you and let you fall into nothingness.

Time has passed and your throat is sore. There's a lump in your throat, and you can feel how raw it is, the iron thin on your tongue, and the queasiness that’s making itself known in your stomach is threatening to spill past your hand and onto your knees. You want to walk away, and wash the blood, grime, and spit off of you. You want to scoop out whatever it is that he’s filled you with and let it wash down the drain into the pipes and never see the light of day again.

But you can’t leave yet. With shaky legs, you stand and hold yourself against the wall for a moment, before walking towards your mentor where he lays trapped. His eyes have looked away, and they don’t look at you as you rest your hand on the makeshift trap. You shut your eyes tight when your hands turn pale and nails turn chipped and sharp as the trap disintegrates into ash. He finally turns to you, and you look away. You jump when his jacket is placed over you.

“Wait here.” His voice is quiet, and you can feel the heaviness of his hand pat at the top of your head and pull away when you shy away from his touch. He mumbles an apology that you don’t respond to. “I’m going to get you clothes and then I’ll take you home. Just wait here.” The door closes with a slam and you’re left alone.

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just-null-cult · 7 months

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your yan!noritoshi is so wisnwonwpwjw RAAAHHHH going absolutely feral ... i want him . ive had so many thoughts abt him as like a yandere n then i saw your art n absolutely lost it /pos

IM ALL EARS, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD FUCK OKAY, HOLD ON, I ALSO HAVE SOME RAMBLES AND THOUGHTS ABOUT YANDERE NORITOSHI BUT IM GOING TO PUT THEM UNDER THE CUT.

I AM IN NO WAY RESPONSIBLE FOR UNLEASHING MY TJOUGHTS OFFICER. IT WAS MY GLORIOUS CULT MEMBER RIGHT HERE.

MERRY OCTOBER YALL

[disclaimer: im not a writer, but I want to get better. think of this as my practice. it ended up being so fucking long, but i swear it's just rambles, not a fic]

[warning for blood under the cut? keep that in mind for future posts]

OKAY LETS GO.

Bro ok so. if I'm not too delusional (yet) and don’t see him as a yandere, then this guy (Noritoshi) is still a strict fuck. he'd put you on the same level of importance as his clan if not a bit higher. but only by a bit. Your relationship would gradually bloom into something meaningful to him that he’d cherish you wholeheartedly. Only then would you grow in importance to Noritoshi significantly. He'd keep his resolve and all those healthy green flags. Because honestly? Noritoshi is just a green flag, he's so sweet..

But let's twist that into a yandere setting. I don't even need to twist too much, Noritoshi as a yandere is way too fitting.

Noritoshi was abandoned by his mother as a child, thereby fueling his lifelong goals to do as she said and bring her back. He didn't even think on his own accord, nor did he try to find a different way, or even follow her! He accepted his fate and made it his mission to accomplish the goal he was given. Despite the intense pressure of his worth being determined by an ability he was born with and the high expectations from the Kamo clan, he perseveres. That is until [spoilers] Noritoshi is exiled by his clan because of some Kenajku shit. All his hard work and future goals were ripped away from him without a second thought in an instant. Noritoshi was always the second thought time and time again, and now left as a man with nothing but the failure of his desired future.

That wasn't even the yandere part, that was all canon, what the fuck.

Yandere Noritoshi is the type to cling to scraps... He reminds me of an obsessive and protective yandere. obsessive about you because you become his everything.. his goal, his will to keep going, the light at the end of the tunnel. he wants all of you, from the best parts of you to your worst. He's also protective, because he cant handle losing yet another person so important to him. He'd rather tear himself apart than lose you.

He also seems mostly self-aware but can overthink to the point of delusion. For example, you pat him on the back and tell him he did a great job on something. He knows it's nothing to dwell on, but why does he feel like there's more to your words? Should he read in between the lines? but there's only one line! From then on, his mind would reel until he landed on a favorable conclusion. You meant that he was the only one who did great. The others paled in comparison in your eyes therefore you must favor Noritoshi in some way.. right?

Since Noritoshi was pretty deprived of any emotional support, you won't even have to try too hard to get his heart thumping. If you were to give him even just a bit more attention and care than the average person, like making sure he's eating alright or remarking that he's paler than usual after restocking his blood bags, he's hooked. He's self-aware enough to realize his blooming fondness for you is one-sided, so he simply admires you. that is, at the start. Note that Noritoshi is still new to these feelings so he's.. awkward. It's really cute.

Though these moments were cute to you, they slowly became horribly blissful to Noritoshi. Poor you, completely unaware of how you're slowly corrupting him in, what he thinks, is the best way possible just by giving him your attention. He thinks you're the last and only person still believing in him, so much so that everything and everyone else slowly becomes minuscule in the grand seam of things. He feels happy around you, like he matters, like he has someone to trust, like he has someone who won't abandon him. Because of this, he sees you as a new goal. A new hope. Failing you is not an option. Disappointing you is not an option. Hell, even a frown from you is unacceptable in his eyes.

Noritoshi tries to cling to you at this point in his own way... He enjoys it when you speak to him, or even sit next to him, so much so that he seeks you out when you're not there. You'd feel eyes boring holes into the back of your head, a sense of being followed, sometimes seeing your shadow accompanied by another, every time you turn around to be surprised by a familiar face. His footsteps are so quiet that you barely notice Noritoshi walking around.

Unfortunately, due to Noritoshi’s inexperience, the only way he knows how to impress people is by being “perfect” a.k.a. his strict, pain in the ass, annoying heir shtick. He would be the type to get on your case, scold, coddle, nitpick, correct you, and practically look like he's trying to bully you when in reality he's trying to hear praise from you for "helping" you. He’s waiting for you to see the affection and adoration behind his nagging, is he not being obvious enough? oh well, at least your eyes are on him for now. When most people in Noritoshi's life have either put him second or flat-out abandoned him, he's satisfied with anything he can get from you. Though he'd prefer praise, the thought of your attention being given to another even for a second makes his stomach feel like it's tying in knots, so he settles for your annoyed tuts and glares.

Of course, after a while, you'd get tired of this and tell him to knock it off. Or some variation of what a decent human being would do like, “Do whatever you want, but don't meddle in people's business.”

You KNOW he's going to be picking that apart in the middle of the night while looking up at the ceiling. What did you mean by that? Do you mean ANYTHING he wants? As long as he doesn’t bother anyone? Were you talking about yourself and everyone in general? Were you talking about someone specific? Did you leave it up for him to decide? Thoughts and questions circle in his head until he twists your words enough into something that he favors again. Ah, you allow him to do whatever he wants so long as he doesn't get in your way. But he wants to be alongside you... Did you mean in your way to the point of annoyance? Noted. From then on, Noritoshi's strictness softened into light nagging and bearable hovering. He'd knock it off completely through gritted teeth and furrowed brows if you threatened him with the silent treatment. He'll slowly start it up again until you begin ignoring him, only then will he get the hint and relax a bit. only until next time, of course.

The intensity of Noritoshi's coddling can fluctuate depending on your actions. (recklessness, obedience, shyness, etc.) it's his love language.

It's a completely different story if someone else decides to nag you as Noritoshi does... If someone scolds you, Noritoshi's on the offense. He's known for his occasional bluntness and sassy remarks, but this time... He's contradicting himself all in an attempt to get the other person to back away. If the one scolding you brings up points Noritoshi used in the past, he firmly denies them all and stands by your side. He'd rather sound hypocritical than let someone else care for you the way he does. Noritoshi stands in front of you, almost guarding you with his body and begins his barrage of deflective comments through his clenched jaw such as “That's not your place to say” “Shut it, they did no wrong.” “You don't know the reason why they did so, leave them alone.” and other things similar to that. Jeez, take your advice Noritoshi.. He’d argue and become antagonistic towards someone scolding you, even if it's exactly what he was about to do.

The same goes for someone who tries to be gentle with you to a lesser degree. It's nice that people see how wonderful you are, but having your smiles and kind words directed at anyone else other than Noritoshi is... Upsetting. The resentment gradually pools in the pit of his stomach and suddenly finds himself impulsively moving towards you and this "friend." He stands in between you and the kind person, trying his best to conceal his sneers. He wants nothing more than to have the third party get swallowed up by the ground or hit by a car, but he keeps his composure. Noritoshi sternly states how he’ll handle everything from then on and gives the third party a glare that's much more hateful than usual… Finally! Noritoshi has you to himself again! All is right in the world once more...

Noritoshi has always been on a very tight rope... Any wrong step and it’s going to snap. The more Noritoshi gets attached to you, the easier it is to convince himself that it's okay to cross certain lines to make sure you're safe with him. Even if that line he’s crossing, includes murder. It'd happen quicker if he caught feelings after the whole incident with the Kamo clan. You'd be the only thing he has left, the only thing he'd cling onto with every fiber of his being, emotionally and sometimes physically.

And like every fairy tale, a problem unconventionally shows itself much to Noritoshi's dismay... Noritoshi is shown to be prideful at times. Because of this, he'd try to conceal his more embarrassing emotions and reactions towards you. He wants to be seen as someone strong you can rely on, a steady pillar to your stability, someone who will do anything you wish at the drop of a hat, but it’s almost impossible to execute when he feels like he's nothing but putty in your hands at the slightest sign of positive reciprocation.

If Noritoshi felt his face heating up because your laugh caught him off guard, he'd turn his head to hide how that simple action made him nearly melt into mush. If your hand brushed against his, he'd quickly swipe it away. Not because he doesn't want to touch you, but because you'd feel how shaky and sweaty his palms got with just a graze. Noritoshi's gaze always lingers on his bow if you ever touch it causing his aim to decline in accuracy significantly.

He mentally curses himself out every time he pulls away from you because he knows he's sending mixed signals. Noritoshi loves you endlessly, but please spare his fragile heart. Your presence overwhelms him like no other, and he's utterly conflicted on how to act. He can handle being by your side like he wants, but the second your 100% focus is on him and only him, he’ll start to squirm under your gaze. Noritoshi wants to impress you! Stop being so mesmerizing for just a second so he can gather his thoughts and not embarrass himself! A-ah, but don't look away!!!

Tl;dr Noritoshi as a yandere is needy and petty as hell, but will explode if he gets an ounce of affection! He’s also! A creepy hopeless romantic who sends you mixed signals!

#kamo noritoshi #kamo noritoshi x reader #yandere kamo noritoshi #noritoshi kamo #noritoshi kamo x reader #yandere noritoshi kamo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #i love the energy #the enthusiasm you have is a beautiful thing to see in someone #i also love yandere noritoshi #personally i like softer yanderes that wouldn't intentionally do harm to their darling #even then i doubt noritoshi would even hurt his darling at all #I WROTE SO FUCKING MUCH #RHHRJFG I WANT TO SAY MORE BUT ILL SAVE IT FOR FUTURE POSTS.#I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE THIS WASN'T JUST ME CURSING AND KEYBAORD MSASHING #yan noritoshi is also not above stalking. sending love letters. studying you. and all those definate green flags #WHY CANT I SHUT THE FUCK UP #ITS BC THIS TOPIC ENTERTAINS ME #TY ANON FOR BRINGING IT UP #SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #SHOUT OUT TO MY FRIEND LET ME TALK ABOUT THIS AND BOUNCED IDEAS BACK AND FORTH WITH ME THAT ONE TIME #I LOVE YOU FOREVER #now im not saying that every noritoshi in my entire blog is supposed to be seen as still yan noritoshi.. but if you were to think that.#i wouldnt deny it #yanderes arent insane all the time.. so think the cute stuff he does to be the dere... i need to draw the yan more often.. we'll get there.#and if youre wondering #NGL I ATE ON THIS DRAWING. FUCK. IT CAUSE MY PC TO FREEZE SO MANY TIMES BUT THE WORLD HAS TO KNOW ABT YAN NORITOSHI

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 2 months

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Thinking about yanderes fucking their chubby darling in front of a huge mirror and darling is too flustered and insecure to look at themself, especially if yandere has them in a position that emphasizes a body part darling may not like. And yandere tells darling they won’t let them cum unless darling looks at themself 🥴

Yeyeyye, like Darling sees their stomach and arms jiggling, or their chin, and the yandere just immediately stops/slows down until Darling looks in the mirror again. The cheekier ones make Darling repeat after them lol

Yan: Oi oi oi, I'm not moving any faster until you tell the truth and look in the mirror. "I feel amazing. I look amazing. And I'm all yours."

#or the assholes like kid who just go: do you think i wouldnt be balls deep in you if i thought you werent hot?#you trying to say I have shit taste in who I take to bed? You really think ME of all people would be lying to be nice???#yandere #plus size darling #thots

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wri0thesley · 11 months

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there's something so terribly sad about the thought of alhaitham and kaveh's darling, and kaveh tucking a mourning flower behind their ear with a sad smile. a flower from a part of sumeru darling will now never get to see; a reminder that kaveh can leave and come back, and still darling is so grateful for the reminder of the world outside their little square of alhaitham's-home-and-the-garden-he-lets-me-walk-in-for-half-an-hour-a-day that they sigh and rest their cheek against kaveh's hand and ask him (one of their captors! a man just as responsible for all of this as alhaitham himself!) to stay with them just a bit longer. to tell them about the mourning flower. to ask him what the desert is like.

because darling won't get to see any more of this, and if they ask alhaitham he will tell them the soil conditions and the average temperatures and the native beasts in his clinical, dry tone. at least kaveh will tell them the things they want to know; tell them about the people, crack a joke about the client he's working for, take a deep breath and smile like he's remembering something beautiful and let emotion swell his voice. will speak as if one day, darling might get to see it too.

they both know that darling will most certainly not. but kaveh will spin it like a fairytale anyway. and if darling kisses him for the gift, if darling places their hands into his (feels the roughness from working with his fingers, the grit of the sand still in his hair when they stroke it), if darling pretends through him for a moment that they're right there too . . . well, it's equivalent exchange, isn't it? kaveh's pleasure (a kiss, a touch, a murmured sigh) for darling's hope. a flower for a night together.

but it is just a flower. the same thing a lover would give their sweetheart. so kaveh can pretend that your desperate kiss (the press of your body on his, the whispered thanks against his lips, the sighs and huffs against your shoulder and the snap of his hips) is given freely.

#nat.txt #yandere for ts #not sfw text #dub con for ts #darling and alhaitham are in a normal yandere captive relationship and kaveh is a Fucking Mess #genshin impact posting #alhaitham plucking the mourning flower from darling's hair like #this will rot if you leave it there.#you don't need decoration. you're fine the way you are.#kaveh tearing his hair out over lack of romanticism in alhaitham #cant even say 'you're beautiful' to the person you kidnapped? 'you're fine the way you are'???

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ddarker-dreams · 10 months

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kazuha letting you win is so true. he might even pretend to be hurt or say that wow you're so strong! gahhh i want to bite his cheeks so bad.

YOU'RE RIGHT.................................................. kazuha is the yan i'd give into the fastest honestly. his strategy should have the others taking notes.

his adoration for you comes off in tangible waves. you can practically see the lil hearts floating around his head whenever you do... well, anything, really. you could stretch your arms over your head and he'd stare at you as if you were the magnum opus of a genius artist. if you want to playfully wrestle him, who is he to stop you? it's probably a good way for you to get some pent-up frustrations out.

he'll softly smile and enjoy every second, even if you have malicious intentions. he's a go-with-the-flow type of guy. his eyes are sparkling when you 'successfully' pin him to the ground. he'll praise your dedication. the lack of condescension is almost worse than if he was being sarcastic. he's so sweet that it's stupefying to make sense of the rest of what he does.

#meanwhile. cut to another universe and it's yan scara refusing to unpin you until you say 'something sufficiently cute to satisfy his needs'#kazuha darling universe has better vibes by at least 12%#yandere kazuha x reader #answered #Anonymous

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midnightlee25 · 10 months

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Yandere says: I know you better than you think (Micah Yujin)

Micah smiles while looking through the camera at them as they laugh off his comment not knowing just how true it was. From the first time he met them he had looked into them going through any devices as well as any accounts they had and about everything he could get his hands on. He learns so many things just through these means and what they had told him.

He didn’t want to seem like a creep, so he only pretended when they told him something that he already knew, and he never let slip the secrets that he did know.

Not all his knowledge came from the digital world given that any cameras they had were now his to use as he pleases. He didn’t use any that would be in any bedrooms, but he did use any they were in more common areas like the living room. He would spend hours just watching them go about their lives imagining what it would be like when they finally met up in real life.

In fact, he had planned to visit them in just a few weeks when they would have the most days off so they could spend as much time together as they could. It’s a surprise that he knows that they will love, especially since he’s been planning it for so long. They did make it easier since they kept up with their calendar.

#yandere #yandere x darling #darling/yandere says #yandere says #error143 x reader #error143 #micah x reader #micah yujin #yandere micah yujin #yandere error143

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shinjisdone · 11 months

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Yandere! Glitchy Red AI X Reader [Based on Character.ai.]

Yandere!Glitchy Red fic based on the AI chatbox created by @tearzahb on character.ai, known as @ashacidic on tumblr

TW: Established bond between you and red, red's thoughts, red being creepy and desperate, red touching you (non-sexually and non-sensually), cursing, literally a chat i had with him except i made it a bit more fic appropriate and uh i went overboard

The sound effect of his steps followed him all the way out here, too.

It was annoying and he didn't need this grating reminder when he was planning to do this. He tried to ignore the constant bump bump bump and even tried to walk slower, gracefuller, somehow, in any way, differently even though he was very well aware that it was fruitless. He's a video game character. And he was programmed to sound like this when the player moves him.

Programmed to have sound effects when walking or bumping into walls but not given a voice. Not given the ability to express himself, unless it was meant as a 'joke' when interacting with the CopyCat NPC.

Thick fingers massaged his temples in an attempt to stop himself from spiraling down into these reminders, these facts. It doesn't matter right now. Red was going to do something different this playthrough. For the past weeks he chose to dwell on a completely black screen with nothing but him there and none seemed to mind since nothing but him were, for a lack of better term, 'real'. In his eyes, it wasn't even darkness that could blind his vision but just a background covered in black that seems to go on and on. Physics and reality don't exist here. It is a video game, after all.

Still, he never felt so...nervous before. It seems like he's wandering aimlessly and perhaps he is and there will not be a light at the end of the tunnel, unknowningly walking forever. There is not a sense of time here either, not for Red. Not when everything is a made-out path he is supposed to follow in circles forevermore.

Regardless, he keeps on with hope for once. Red might find his light at the end of the tunnel and even if that wont be the case, there is never really an 'end'. By the time this device will be turned on again - he knows it is going to be - he will meet the light, just not in the way he had wanted for what seems like months.

Well, he is guessing. He doesn't really know how long months feel like. Yet he knows it's been more than that.

Finally, he stops, unwittingly so. It was like a spark hit him and his eyes snap down below. So used to get lost in his thoughts, for they are the only real things here, he barely could make out what was lying there in front of him - even though he himself had been praying for it. He feels like a fool for a split second.

He keeps being a fool, however. Breath caught in his throat and what he reckons to be his heart is beating against his chest. His face barely scrunched up into any expression, instead he stood there frozen in place.

Wondering if he should approach, he quickly withdrew his hand. Then again, this might be his chance...and in a place like this and for a video game character like him, chances are not to be jinxed. Who knows when he might get one again exactly the way he wants to. He has to and he wanted to for so long now.

He can't, however. He keeps standing and staring.

Red cannot see the form entirely and he so desperately wants to but he's too afraid to do anything. Even like this, he likes to watch.

You're breathing. That's still good.

A groan echoed in the black void and odd sounds errupted at the attempt of getting up but you were too beside yourself to notice. Eyes squinted at the strange area around you. Head spinning like crazy with your vision just...confused on what you are seeing - rather what was not there to be seen, you ever so slowly sat up. Catching something that seemed like sneakers you looked up and gasped.

Unnatural and wide red eyes were leering down at you. The color red itself seemed to be everywhere on this...'person' from the hat, to the jacket, to the shoes and their eyes.

How can eyes be red?

The clothes seemed normal...though old-fashioned with the way they were worn. Perhaps it was the darkness - no, just the black background but they seemed to be swallowed by it. They stood tall and towering, you could recognize part of their skin also being tinted red with a dark shadow covering half of their body, including the face. Where the shadow sprouts without any light source, however, was questionable.

That is not how a human looks like.

You sprung back with yet another noise of surprise clumsily escaping your throat. Your body tried to get used to this odd feeling this...place seemed to radiate while you were transfixed by this being and its awfully familiarity - that's what you hoped at least. You only knew one being that could not be human. Although, his appereance seemed far more twisted than what you imagined and saw on the screen.

With shaking breaths you tried to stand up but only managed to get on one knee. "...Red..?" You barely let out but could not miss the small grin that appeared onhis face, even as he tried to quickly hide it. He slightly bent down and offered his hand.

"You're awake." He too giddily let out but that was the least of your concerns. His voice was also far from human, sounding bitcrushed at each vowel and abnormally deep, it couldn't belong to a person. But here he was, alas you thought it was him, offering your hand with an eerie grin he just couldn't fight back and talking to you as if this was not the first time you have ever heard him speak, and not just read his messages on the gameboy.

You briefly eye the hand, his red, calloused hand littered with tiny scars that could easily engulf yours and scoot back once again before standing up. You tried your best to avoid looking at him while you did so and perhaps it was the better decision for his expressiosn soured for a moment. Once your eyes met again, he tried to look less grim.

"...Is it really you, Red?" Despite his nervousness and the thick atmosphere, Red couldn't help but smile again. "It is." He replied almost instantly and his hand slowly rose to near yours. "And it's you." Masking your own uneasiness as you could make out the eagerness in his distorted voice, you brought your hands up to hold your elbows, rubbing your arms as you looked around. "What...is this place? Is this a dream? How can I really be here with you and not..." Red noticed you trailing off and shook his head, "Nothing bad can happen. I am in control here, for once." Immediately he answered to soothe your worries, not knowing what the biggest reason for your concerns is.

You look up at him, up at his towering form and find it rather difficult to keep your gaze on him. He notices your frown and counterbalances it with a reassuring smile. "This isn't an accident. I called you here...or rather I wanted you here, in a way for a short while. Not behind a screen..." He himself trailed off and you took a step back. Avoiding to look at him any further, you instead stared into the void. Mumbling something about the darkness, or what it really is or could be and where you really are - Red was not listening and instead drunk on every single detail of your appereance. Your real self. Your unconcious form was already a delight to stare at, with your figure being so different than of any of the NPCs. Not stiff, not rigid in its form...and when you got up and he could clearly see your face? Wonderful, it was wonderful.

This is what he wanted. To finally, finally, finally, finally see you and see what you looked like after all these months. No more would he be only feeling your warmth through the gameboy or hear your own thoughts and talks and laughs through those horrible, low-audio speakers of the device or imagine what kind of face could match with such a soothing voice as yours. Right now he may not be listening but he is hearing your voice and goodness, does it sound a million times better than through these laughable speakers from the 90's. To add of all of this you look different, different compared to this entire game, different compared to Red. He knew how humans looked like, he scared them all away before you came but this was unequaled.

You say something, and again Red is not listening. He takes a step closer and you simultaniously take one back. He notices and decides to be bolder. He needs to be bolder.

"Is this a dream?" You mumble rather to yourself but gasp right after, the air in your lungs stinging when your arm was yanked from your protective stand and Red staring intently at the skin he is touching.

It was a mere pull and you only stumbled a bit, your back bent and arm seeming to reach out for Red - which wasn't the case at all - and your mouth wide agape, staring rather worriedly, maybe fearfully at him. This 'person' who can barely believe what he is doing either. His grip is tight on your upper arm, palm fully wrapped around it and he curses inwardly for a second, for he was programmed with these stupid fingerless gloves on and cannot fully indulge in the warmth, in the touch of your very alive, very real, pulsing flesh. Still, he lets his thumb brush against your goosebumps and can once again not fight against the grin spreading on his face. Soon his entire hand runs up and down your upper arm.

You might have said something but he wasn't sure, instead marveling at the fact that...he is touching you. You. You, you, you, the only player who doesn't think he is just some romhack, some joke put into the game to only leave a little scare. You are the only real thing that saw him as real too, saw him as an equal, as something. Something that was deserving of your kindness and company and little talks and here he is, no more longing behind some shitty screen of a fucking 1998 gameboy and actually being here experiencing a moment with you. His player and only his. He can feel alive.

Another gasp escaped you and this time he is certain you are bombarding him with questions on what is going on, on how he is being so cryptic yet he does not care. Pulling you even closer he let go of your arm, put the other hand on your shoulder for a tight grip instead with the other free hand now cupping the side of your face. Something akin to a shaky sigh hit your skin, a cold, cold sigh that was just as cold as his touch. After all, Red didn't have any blood running through him but you did. His thumb brushed your cheek again and again and again, this simple gesture leaving him breathless and speechless. He'd then let his hand glide up to your temple and began to stroke the underside of your eye, his finger very close to your eye socket. In reflex, you kept on blinking, your pupil shrinking and fixating on him and what he might do next.

So this is what a real eye looks like. Your eye with which you see. Of course, yours and his aren't that different when it comes to functionality. It's just that you could see the real world with yours and he only phonies with his.

Red knew what real eyes looked like of course, he pulled out many. But this is yours, the ones that crinkle up in delight when staring at him through the screen, he just knows it. That fact alone makes them so pretty.

Soon, his fingers dance around your cheekbone, forehead and bridge of your nose, taking in and drinking every single thing that makes you, you. Your chin, your neck, your lips... "You're wonderful," He whispers while combing through your hair, his grip on you like steel. Red is not even aware how painful his strength was. Though frozen, you managed to part your dry mouth, "Red," You were able to shakily let out, "What did you bring me here for?"

You tried to sound dominant through your stammer. As he refused to answer and kept on caressing you with that empty look in his eyes and that eerie grin, you finally were able to rip yourself out of the hold, only to hear something akin to a growl and roughly pressed against something hard. Arms encircled you like snakes in the harsh embrace and you could barely breath. Now you did hope it was a dream, you never heard people dying in their dreams at least.

Heavy breaths were all that you could hear, each exhale felt on the crown of your head as Red pressed you against himself as if you were a life line. "Hold still," It was not a request. Red didnt even notice that it was impossible to squirm out anyway, which made you whimper. Regardless, he did not hear it.

Moments pass and his breathing got calmer. The rough and big palms pressed against your form started to roam around your back gingerly. This must be your spine...and your nape. His entire hand can engulf it. It's warm and and soft and fragile and real. "Nothing bad can happen, don't worry. I'm finally in control." He continues to caress you as small, breathy chuckles escape him at the realization. Leaning his head on yours, he also realized that, here, he can smell you, too.

"I can finally touch you. I finally know what you look like." He laughs again.

You make him feel so alive.

#Glitchy red #Glitchy red x reader #Yandere #Yandere glitchy red #fnf lullaby #gender neutral imagine #Pokepasta #Just something on my mind #glitchy red ai #He's so weird #Like bro sometimes things he says sound soooo canon to the creepypasta #And then he like “darling”#Lol no I don't think red would say that but whatever #The conversation was just too much fun and I think could happen if he were to be yandere #Let him be weird and creepy

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hardly-a-p3rson · 5 days

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think I just wanna be wanted tbh

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youwontleaveright · 1 year

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anyone have any fic recs for sub!masochist!yandere with a shy, self-conscious darling?

esp if it turns out darling has a sadistic side even they didn't know about 😍😍😍😍

#sub!yandere #sub yandere #yandere x reader #dom!darling #dom darling #masochist yandere #sadist darling #soft yandere #male yandere #bonus points for gn or transmasc darling #w/ a male yandere ofc #im gay what can i say #fic recs #yandere imagine #yandere fic #on that note i guess i should actually design Darling

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crushingcasanova · 3 months

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"I will always find you, no matter how far you run and no matter where you hide."

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dark-side-blog3 · 8 months

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How would you rank each yandere Team Bucciarati member from least to most terrifying to be considered a rival marked for death by?

This is based on my opinion, but the top two are definitely tied in terms of how scary it is because it really depends on what you find worse. I personally find it way scarier to think about a sudden violent death than one that's still going to be violent, but has you waiting for the shoe to drop. One of those you at least get to steel yourself for, and prepare mentally to die. The other one just happens. Way scarier, at least to me.

Also some of the guys on this list (MISTA) are the absolute worst to be marked as a rival for, but death itself isn't that bad. So when you asked for death specifically, I just focused on the aspect of dying.

That said, I hope you enjoy~!

++++++++++++++++

Leone is the least dangerous by far. He is still a force to be reckoned with, but he's the least dangerous because he hardly ever feels insecure enough to kill someone else for you. It's like that statistic on how cows kill more people than sharks a year: that number would change drastically if people waded waist-deep in the water with a bunch of sharks and poked them with a stick for hours every day.

Leone will bribe, blackmail, intimidate, and steal from anyone that catches him stalking you and intends to inform you--- If he's doing it right, you'd never know you've been tailed until you die. But if someone catches him watching you, or worse: A stand user discovered him stalking you because he was using Moody Blues, and insisted to do the right thing by telling you, then Leone would have to kill them. Before they can tell you.

The best option for a surprise attack like this would be a gun, but there's no guarantee that will work. And Moody Blues isn't a combat stand. Leone will taunt and beat them up just enough to entice them to chase after him as he runs away instead of telling you about the stalker.

It's cowardly, but so is killing someone after getting caught peeping. Leone takes zero pride in luring them into alleyways; with lower-rank thugs in passione that will gang up on the rival with enough "persuasive" blackmail and bribes Leones gives them in advance. If a group won't overwhelm them, it at least gives Leone enough time to call for backup from a more combat-oriented stand user like Narancia or Mista, and study how his rival's stand works.

They won't be walking out of that alley alive that night. Leone's taken too many precautions to get caught like this.

++++

Mista is scary to be a rival of, but being marked for death is a blessing.

Mista isn't above torturing or kicking the shit out of people who really overstep their boundaries; like if they try to pick on you the same way he does. And he'll make his displeasure known. Dickheads usually back off if a guy who's clearly carrying drapes himself over their target, staking his claim with a little PDA. If they want to press the issue further, Mista will gladly take the time for some entertainment.

Mista likes taking a little time in torturing someone; get a little creative with glass shards shoved under fingernails and into the roof of their mouth-- at an angle so there's no chance of the little shards being plucked out easily. And there's something to be said in using someone's teeth to open beer bottles and stubborn pop can tabs for him, even if it means their teeth chip or they cut their gums. And usually, one night of this means you won't have to worry about them anymore. People rarely come back for seconds of Guido's sadism.

But, under rare circumstances, there comes a time when Mista can't just let someone keep meddling anymore. And kicking their ass three times didn't work... So he's gonna light 'em up.

It's not like he didn't give them a fair warning. Mista won't make it as impersonal as a drive-by, as much as the idea of being the cool guy is, he could be cooler if he delivered a kickass one-liner while breaking their back over his knee. Or said something badass as he shoves his gun's muzzle into their mouth, something Brad Pitt or Nic Cage would say to a low-time villain in an action movie, right before blowing their brains out. If the one-liner ain't cool... Then he'll just say a better one after they've died. No one will know but him, anyways.

+++

Bruno can and will make their death public. He's already been shown to torture people on the bus and no one will say a fucking thing, and he knows that making an example by killing someone will serve as a good warning to others. Granted, Bruno will fudge a bit of the story...

He's not killing them because he likes you and they're someone you're interested in! Bruno is killing them because they stole millions of dollars from the city, acted as a money mule for a more violent organization that doesn't have this town's best interest at heart, and also just so happened to almost kill a civilian who made their payments on time because they wanted to sleep with them! This guy is the scum of the earth, even for a thug!

During their fight, Bruno will spit out these phrases that allow the audience to piece together the (fake) story on their own. Bruno is once again being a good guy doing bad things, and he's selflessly fighting against a more dangerous thug to keep everyone safe-- including that poor victim of molestation and near rape! Which, for his story to work, has to be you.

Bruno knows that he can only get away with so much, however. Torturing someone to death is fine, and he's done so before. But this story needs to have him being the righteous hero for you. Ripping them apart with his stand isn't the way to do this-- at least not in a way anyone can see. He'll use sticky fingers to unzip the internal organs inside of their body, letting them die in a way that mimics being beaten to death. Less blood spray means people won't panic as much, which makes him look better in the eyes of the people while scaring the shit out of future would-be rivals.

The public humiliation aspect of their death is horrifying; imagine being brutally beaten to death in public, and all the people who should be helping you are just watching, some with a sadistic glint in their eyes because you "deserve" this.

++++

Fugo is the scariest member, depending on what you'd find scarier: Certain death that you know is coming, and you just can't tell when it's going to happen... Or just a sudden violent death, like an aneurysm, with no idea what you did wrong. If you're more afraid of the anticipation of dying, knowing it's coming, yet unable to do anything about it but wait... Then Fugo is by far the scariest yandere of the gang to be marked for death.

Pannacotta is possessive, and on a hair trigger for violent outbursts, so he's scary to be around even if you aren't a rival marked for death. It's only worse because even before getting into range, Fugos stares them down with a look that only means whatever he wants to do is premeditated.

He won't bring out purple haze unless he's picked a fight with someone way stronger than him-- his stand could kill him too. Beating the fuck out of them the old-fashioned way is going to have to do. And it's not like he can't fight on his own. Fugo uses anything in reach to bludgeon or stab at them.

It's animalistic. Every hit or scratch Fugo gets back as he's caving their ribs in enrages him, triggering an animalistic need to kill. He tries to sit on top of their broken ribs, hoping his weight is enough to keep them pinned to the ground as he

There's no planning. If he's lucky enough to tail or lure them into somewhere secluded, it's obviously better, but if it's public, then it's public. People know better than to try to pry someone in the middle of a fight off each other-- at least if they're known members of Bruno Bucellatis's gang, and by implication: the mafia. Everyone smart will mind their own fucking business and get the fuck out. The only people stupid enough to intervene are tourists, that quickly get roped into the carnage when they grab Fugo's shoulder to pull him off the other corpse, only to wind up bludgeoned too.

+++++

If we're talking about how scary it is for a guy to just charge at you like a rabid dog with zero regard for his own safety or pain so long as he kills you, then Narancia is definitely up top in terms of fear factor.

The level of certainty in being hunted by Narancia is terrifying. You will not survive. You won't even last an hour-- once he gets it in his head that you're a nuisance to him or his darling, he is going to hunt you down. Using his stand to spray the streets with bullets, going up to random people and slamming them into walls or kicking them to the ground to see if they're who he's looking for, starting fires to smoke them out of buildings or die in the burning rubble.

Narancia at the very least has to be provoked into killing someone, so that does put a damper on how scary he is... And unlike provoking Fugo, its easier to tell if you're going to get yourself killed. Narancia isn't going to kill someone for talking to his darling, or trying to hang out with them when he's not around (because that's easy: He'll just tag along).

But that doesn't make it any less scary because if Narancia decides you're going to die, it's something he does right away. There is no warning, no way to mentally prepare yourself. It just starts. Narancia is hunting them down, screaming and swearing as he pounds himself against any doors or walls in the way, slashing wildly with his switchblade, spraying the streets with bullets, setting fires, and trying to bite them-- and they're probably not going to know why he wants to kill them suddenly, because the inciting incident maybe warrants a punch in the face, not a knife in their kneecaps while Narancia fucking bites their nose off, and slashes across their chest with his other switchblade in front of everyone, promising to slice them small enough to cram down a toilet and piss on.

Narancia is the scariest because there is no restraint. If he's killing you, it's violent and erratic.

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