yandere erwin finding his darling after days of searching. she made the mistake of leaving without asking and erwin needs her to understand that she belongs with— or, rather, to— him.
idk if this is too dark?? feel free to play around with this. just an idea. love your stuff!! ❤️
oooh thank you anon i like this a lot! sorry this took me a while to respond to - basically i think he would try to make you feel guilty asf. gaslight gatekeep girlboss
CW: yandere, dark content
under 16 dni
Summary: You saw your chance to get away from Erwin and you took it. Perhaps you didn’t think this through well enough.
Notes: Reader is implied to be a woman, if anyone wants me to make a gender neutral or male version I’d be happy to, let me know
As a new recruit, you never expected things to go the way they did.
You were flattered when the Commander first took interest in you. The relationship was going well, until he started showing signs of having more nefarious desires.
It was simple things that raised red flags for you at first. You didn’t like how quickly things were moving, you never wanted to commit so fast.
Then, he started cutting you off from your friends, and you weren’t naïve enough to be oblivious to what was going on. You’d seen it countless times before, men high on power exerting some juvenile fantasy of dominance over a woman to feel some sick sense of importance. Unfortunately breaking up with him wouldn’t be so simple since he was your commander, but you were preparing to back away slowly.
Your plans were crushed one night, after he truly lost it and broke your wrist with his bare hands in order to stop you from going on an expedition.
That night, you choked on sobs for hours while he lay next to you, sleeping soundly as if nothing had happened, while you formulated a plan to run.
So at the crack of dawn, you took some food and some clothes, stole a horse and got as far as you could.
So that’s how you ended up here, hunched behind a bar with your teeth clenched, holding your breath for dear life.
The bartender, a man who seems unsure whether to report you or not, eyes you suspiciously. You give him a pleading look and shake your head, begging him not to turn you in to the soldiers searching the shop.
But it’s too late. They’ve noticed his eyes wandering down and the guilty expression on his face, and a soldier is already peering over the bar to see you, hunched over, clutching a backpack into your chest.
He smirks, before coming around to grab your arm and yank you up with bruising speed. You struggle futilely. You let out an ugly cry when another person grabs your wrist, which is still broken and incredibly swollen, and they drag you out the shop with ease, despite your meagre protests.
You’re hauled into the back of a carriage without a word of explanation, and you wince looking down at your wrist again. It’s definitely infected, and you start to think your life may be in danger if it doesn’t get treated soon. You couldn’t go to a doctor in the few days you were on the run, the broken wrist matched your description and they would have handed you in to Erwin. Every town nearby is crawling with soldiers searching for you.
The carriage starts rolling and you try to calm your breathing as you travel slowly to what feels like your death. There’s no point agonising now, it’s not like I can do anything to delay the inevitable, you tell yourself, but it’s all in vain. Your chest is tight and you’re being crushed with anxiety every second you get closer to Erwin.
By the time the door slams open, it’s dark out and your eyelids are getting heavy. You give the soldier a small look, showing that you have no intention of putting up a fight, and he hauls you up and pulls you back into the castle you ran from only a few days ago.
After being dragged roughly up the stairs by two soldiers, they knock on Erwin’s door, still maintaining the bruising grip they have on you. You’ve guessed they’ll probably get some type of reward for being the ones to find you, and they seem eager to be let in.
You bite your lip, trying to push away the anxiety bubbling in your stomach. Erwin opens the door, and looks you slowly up and down with unimpressed eyes. It’s a slap in the face compared to his usual gentle demeanour.
“Thank you, cadets.” he says calmly, before looking back at you, a hint of disgust on his face. “Come in.”
You enter, mind numb with anticipation, and you distantly hear the door slam behind you. When you turn to see him still standing tall and strong by the door, you could almost faint.
His eyes pierce into yours, glaring you down in a twisted way that makes you almost feel guilty. You gulp, waiting for him to speak.
“I hate disloyalty.” comes his deep voice. The put of shame in your stomach deepens. He strides over to you calmly and slowly, and your breath hitches when he reaches a hand out to brush your neck.
“And I hate shameful little liars. You should be put to death for abandoning the military, you know.”
“I know.” you whisper, eyes turning glossy.
His hand closes around your neck, and by the glint in his eyes you know this is a direct threat. One squeeze and he could kill you, you know that. But his hand remains loose enough for you to breathe alright. The real thing restraining your breathing is the heavy dread weighing your heart.
“What will I do with you, sweetheart?” His hand tightens a little. “Do you want to die?”
With a small breath, you decide on a bold answer. Not like you have much to lose.
“Kill me if you have to.” you breathe.
He seems amused. His eyes light up a little, expelling some of the rage they held a few moments ago.
“You know I hate unnecessary death. And truthfully, I’m not sure I could live without my sweetheart.” A hint of a teasing smile plays on his lips.
It makes your stomach churn, and you feel like throwing up when his hand moves away from your throat and starts to stroke at your cheek.
“I’m sure you can get better, can’t you?” he says with blaring condescension. “You know, I was worried sick. I thought we could trust each other.”
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes and your cheeks suddenly feel unbearably hot. You feel damp sweat on your forehead as your breathing speeds up.
“You just need a little straightening out, that’s all.” he says. “Apologise like a good girl and all will be forgiven.”
You feel too unwell to formulate proper words. You want to argue but everything is starting to go blurry and you’re losing your footing and you’re dizzy.
You distantly hear a small sigh and a strong pair of arms around your waist, before you’re lifted up and laid down gently on a large bed.
His hand takes your broken wrist with care, and his thumb caresses it just gently enough not to cause any pain.
“So that’s what it is. It’s infected, sweetheart. You’re having a fever.”
You open your mouth to speak again, but he shushes you softly.
He gets you antibiotics and water, brings you hot food, and even bandages your wrist while you’re teetering in and out of consciousness. He lies with an arm protectively wrapped around your middle while you fall asleep, and you have no energy to protest.
When you wake up, you feel a little better than last night. You bring your hand down to rub your eyes, but something holds it back. Your eyes widen as you see you’ve been handcuffed to the bedframe.
You pull at it futiley, and let out some hoarse yells for help, but you know it’s in vain. No one will come.
Then your mind wanders back to Erwin, like it always seems to. He could have killed you easily last night, he had no shortage of rage. But instead he took you to bed and tenderly cared for you all night. Is that a sign of true love? You can’t tell, but in your confused and conflicted state, you think maybe this is what love is supposed to be like.
He comes back a while later, and you try to gauge his mood as he sits down on the bed, wearing full uniform.
He’s satisfied by your resignation. You seem to have lost most of your fight.
“I don’t like doing this to you, honey.” he sighs. “But what other choice have you given me? If you leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll go mad with grief.”
You feel it then, the guilt tugging at your heart.
“Sorry.” you whisper, before you’ve even realised. “‘M sorry, Win.”
His eyes soften, and now he knows he’s won.
“It’s ok love. I can forgive you, with time.”
You nod quickly, reaching for his hand. “Please, I’ll never hurt you again.”
“I know.” he pulls you in for a hug so you can’t see the grin on his face, rubbing your back. “I know.”
47 notes · View notes