you’re an angel, i’m a dog ; satoru gojo
synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.
word count; 4.3k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.
a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…
satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
”haah…”
— the sigh spills into the air, dripping with exhaustion, a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching.
just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.
another sigh. deep, exasperated — from satoru, this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment.
”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”
you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.
”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”
he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”
then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.
even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.
but you just won’t listen.
”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”
a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.
”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”
at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.
”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”
and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.
time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right.
of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.
still, though.
”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”
you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”
”my little night owl.”
that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.
with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”
satoru softens.
(always so good to him.)
”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”
in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.
he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.
satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease.
satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.
so he’s been worried.
it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.
he just doesn’t trust your professor.
that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.
it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.
(it was only a matter of time.)
satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.
and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —
it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.
it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled.
there’s only one way to satiate it.
so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.
then he grabs his coat and slips outside.
the moon is visible through the window.
a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast.
(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)
”who… w — what are — ?”
satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure.
just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick.
he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.
he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.
he just can’t bring himself to care.
”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”
silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat.
it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.
satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”
another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.
then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”
the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.
before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”
it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair.
he wouldn’t lay a finger on her.
but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.
a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.
the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.
finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve.
three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly.
there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact.
that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.
(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?
it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)
there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.
and there you are.
on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes.
you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.
suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.
“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”
his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.
“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.”
he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch.
but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.
satoru would never cage you in. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious.
so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.
(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)
“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.
“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”
“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”
satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat.
and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance.
“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”
and he grins. like clockwork. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”
again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”
“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”
and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.
“right! i almost forgot!”
then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.
he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.
but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance.
satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.
you, you, you. the only thing that exists.
all of him is for you.
”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw.
”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting, slipping from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”
”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”
another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.
so precious that he forgets about everything else.
this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care.
you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.
it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it.
(something worth cherishing, no matter the cost.)
as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date.
satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.
“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”
satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”
“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“
“— yet.”
a pause.
satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”
a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist.
he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”
a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.
“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”
satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.
”you’re so gross.”
a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”
”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue.
”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.”
”charmer.”
”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”
and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything that’s good, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches a flicker of joy dance within your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.
the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think.
satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back.
so why not bear the weight of your burdens?
all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.
he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.
“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”
he prays it never will.
992 notes
·
View notes
yandere zoro headcanons
male reader of course <3 also this is actually a very soft yandere zoro, nothing super duper hardcore...i think
yandere ! zoro . . . just expects you to know that he likes you. it's so annoying. he does the bare minimum and genuinely thinks that's enough for you to know. he's held the door open for you one time and equated that to a love confession. because he's not gonna ever blatantly confess to you, so he does these other minuscule things to get your attention and make it "known" that he likes you.
yandere ! zoro . . . will be at your beck and call. he will do whatever you ask of him. he'll act like its annoying, but he is more than happy to do whatever you ask him. it's undeniably a really sweet gesture that he does, but sometimes he gets really pushy and aggressive with it. the reason why is because he wants you to completely rely on him, even for your own basic needs. he wants to be doing everything for you for the power-trip and control it gives him.
"give it to me," zoro gruffly said, taking the bags from your arms. you were more than capable in carrying the groceries, but zoro took them off your hands. he knew you could handle them, but he felt the need to aid you.
"i am more than capabl-"
"shut up, i'm doing you a favor," zoro rejected your want to carry the bags, shaking his head.
"fine, thanks, zoro." a flash of your gentle smile was enough to send him into a flustered, crimson red blushing state.
yandere ! zoro . . . kind of going hand in hand with ^ that one, zoro would easily kill for you. the amount of dead bodies you'd be responsible for would be uncountable. every single man or woman thats hit on you has - unknowing to you - have been murdered by zoro. he doesn't take people trying to take you away from him lightly. to him its serious enough he needs to take their life. and he has and he will continue to.
yandere ! zoro . . . is very pushy on affections. it may sound out of character, but zoro never thought he'd get lucky enough to find someone like you. so now he's found you, he's gonna be selfish about, as far as he can go.
zoro had a nasty habit of physically taking you away from conversations. it would be out of nowhere - when you're just playing games with chopper and then you're suddenly being thrown over zoro's shoulder. you could try fighting against him all you want, but he easily overpowers you.
and when you're finally dropped onto the crow's nests floor, you berate him, "what's your issue?! chopper and i were talking you know!"
"i know," zoro says, not bothered one bit by your shouting.
"so?" you say expectingly, not enjoying how nonchalant he was being about the whole situation.
"if you're my boyfriend, don't i have the right to spend time with you?"
"i can still have friends though,"
zoro yawned, taking you into his lap and trapping you in hie arms, "come on, let's just sleep. we don't have to keep talking about stupid shit like this,"
"you can't just-"
a hand on the back of your head made you crash into his chest and effectively shut you up, his chest silencing you as you were smothered (suffocated) in it.
yandere ! zoro . . . has two sides of his personality - one he uses with you, and only with you, and then the side he shows everyone else. he never speaks as softly as he does with you as he does with other people. he's hyper aware that he looks intimidating to others, but he goes out of his way to be softer with you. it's sweet, honestly, but it's terrifying to see it happen in real time.
zoro had an arm drapped around your shoulder, simply following in whatever direction you took him to. whenever he saw something that he'd think you'd like, he pointed it out to you with a hidden smile.
"wait, look, do you like it?" zoro gently asked, picking up the ring and examining it in the natural light, "i can get it for you, if you want?"
"but it's pretty expensive-"
"don't worry about it, i can afford it," zoro shrugged, enjoying the way your eyes brightened. if only he could keep that for himself completely, hide you away from the rest of the world.
the two of them walked up to the vendor. zoro's soft smile was wiped away in an instant, looking gruff and annoyed at the man, "this one."
"what a lovely ring, you two are-"
"could you just hurry up? our crew might leave without us," zoro lied, already so annoyed with the innocent man who was just doing his job. you slapped him on the chest, shooting him a look.
seeing the disappointed expression on your face, he faltered in his glare a little bit. and an embarassed blush came onto his face, looking to the side and forcing himself to not glare at the vendor.
the man looked grateful for your intervention, quickly taking the exchange of beri and handing you the ring. a quick thank you left your lips before you walked out of there, zoro in tow.
"you're such an asshole," you murmured in annoyance, shrugging off his arm from your shoulder.
"babe, c'mon, don't-" but he shut up immediately when he saw the look you shot him, a warning look. it worked and he kept quiet the rest of the walk to sunny.
he practically grovelled for forgiveness the rest of the night, only gaining it back when he gently put the ring around your finger and peppered kisses on your face.
yandere ! zoro . . . is really only nice and doting to you - he doesn't give a shit about anyone else but you and makes it known. it earns him a scolding but he needs you to know that everyone that isn't you doesn't even cross his mind. you're the only person he thinks about and will continue to think about - everyone else isn't even worthy of being as important as you are in his head. you are the only thing he cares about, he devotes his entire strength in making it known he is at your disposal.
794 notes
·
View notes
Yandere ╾ L Lawliet
Because apparently I fell into a yandere stage and this is my tunnel out.
CW typical yandere stuff (stalking, obsession, overprotection, manipulative, worship, dependence, monopoly, killer)
★━━─・‥…━━━☆
Yandere L is interesting because I think yes, he could absolutely be a yandere
canonically too
BUT only if you defined a yandere by "do they have the traits?" as opposed to "what do they do?"
so first: what KIND of yandere is the detective? top five traits incoming.
STALKER
Let's just get this one out of the way
He obviously to some degree "stalks" people just for his work, through cameras and policemen if not in person
he's a stalker guys. that's it.
so he wouldn't have a problem just turning up wherever someone who interested him was
again
and again
and again...
He's pretty hard not to notice because of his peculiar mannerisms, but he's also literally black and white enough to blend into the background.
So if he was careful (he is) it would take a while before you noticed you were seeing him everywhere you went. And by then you wouldn't be able to think of a time where he wasn't sitting quietly somewhere in the background.
L knows this.
he knows you're going to assume he just happens to live in the same area as you, or something like that.
I don't think he'd actually follow you into your home but he would go when you were out someday to set up cameras
and I think L would genuinely believe himself to be a good person
what if he goes away and you get in trouble? you don't always have a roommate, who would notice? well, now L will, and he is quite able to get you back to safety. but back to the stalkery.
oh man he's gone through your stuff. your closets your phone whatever. he wants to know about you
one day he might just arrange for a little... near accident somewhere you both frequent
and oh my oh gosh oh diddly darn
guess who just happens to be there to save the day
(L. it's L. notice him please?)
OBSESSIVE
There are two things that L is canonically obsessed with: work and desserts
but if he found a romantic interest that list suddenly has a third item: YOU.
especially if you bake him cakes or help him in cases. because then he ties those things he loves to you.
and I'll just quickly mention these traits are always a little bit in his personality but the order I'm writing in is the order they come out more strongly around you.
Obsession is also tied with stalking.
Some days he watches you and dreams about you smiling at him the way you smile at the rain and the sun and the world.
he imagines how everything will work out. you're a distraction to his work: he would have to find a way to integrate you into his life in a way that allows him to be close to you and not distracted. he imagines he imagines
you'd find a way to fit into him while he was sitting, your body pressed up against his torso, legs pulled up, head on his shoulder.
he could play with your hair with one hand. you could feed him sweets.
L is for the first time not in control of his own thoughts. it's new and unpredictable so it's completely terrifying to him, and for a while he'll slink away into the darkest recesses of society and draw away from you.
but it doesn't stop. it gets worse.
he can't look outside without wondering if you're looking at the same skies. can't eat strawberries without wondering if you like them.
so then he does a full 180 and will devote all of his available attention (some must be spared for work) to you. if you don't already work together or if he hasn't made contact during the stalking at all, this is when he does it.
he reaches out to see if you'll take him.
and when you do (it's not a question of if, see manipulative) he will calm down a fair bit.
but he is still, quietly, obsessed
OVERPROTECTIVE
what can I say?
gosh he just wants to keep you safe.
He's seen every bad thing about the world through his work, he knows bad things constantly happen to good people.
but. not. to. you.
L just won't let it happen. he can and will secret you away in a hotel room. never enough for you to become suspicious, to rattle at doors and windows. And you move with him, every couple of weeks, so it's just an adventure, dear.
also I think he'd use darling in a sweeter sense. dear or maybe doll is his yandere pet name for you.
He probably has several trackers somewhere on you. probably not IN you... probably...
also you know that nail polish they developed that changes colour when it comes into contact with common poisons in drinks? he makes you use stuff like that. for your safety.
hate hate hates that he can't be with you all the time. you tend to find yourself with reasons to stay at home when L's not around. once again see manipulative.
he does trust you, he really does. but he doesn't trust the world. men in particular are often disgusting. it's just true. he's seen it time and time again as a detective. who knows what scary things could be out in the world? and if they knew you were dating, that you had ANY relationship with the world's greatest detective? L's afraid he's putting you in danger. please just humour him and stay home for a week, dear. you can work on your baking.
if you started getting really rebellious, thought you were being chained up, whatever, L would let you go and do whatever you wish. He doesn't want you to feel like that! He loves you! he may or may not have organised for a brush with death for you so that you realise how right he is about the horrors of the world and want to stay home like he asks you so nicely to.
you're just so pure. so innocent.
there, there. he won't let them hurt you.
he'll even close all the blinds so the darkness of the world can't reach in to taint your beauty. isn't he the best?
MANIPULATIVE
IT'S CANON.
I can't think of any particularly specific examples but he lies about everything. Whenever he throws out a number (5%) it means he suspects someone over 90%
so he has no issues bending the truth
sigh if L's manipulative side is triggered it's triggered ALL the way. one one hand he hates doing this to you
but on the other it's for your own good and you're being stupid.
He will do ANYTHING to make you believe him. he will manipulate you into thinking he's being manipulative so he can get upset at your lack of trust in him so he's able to manipulate you
did that make sense...
can cry on demand.
but it's not all about making himself the victim, he will also just.. isolate you if you're starting to drift away from him. Suddenly your friends find other interests, your family are renovating the house or your parents won a radio prize for a vacation.
and L is the only one left. and he himself is distant until you cry and plead and apologise
the isolation thing is actually a yan trait itself and the scenarios above are also kind of training. but they're only a part of the bigger trait.
he will also manipulate situations and other people, not just you.
L just wants what's best for everyone
(coincidentally this always aligns with what is best for L.)
he's so smart though. it's really really difficult to realise he's manipulating you unless he wants you to.
WORSHIP
you're so pretty, the most perfect thing he's ever seen
you're an angel, really.
and people who don't respect you as such are going to get a subtle but clear message from L to STEP AWAY.
cold glares.
he will literally turn his head 180° like an owl to stare at them while he walks you away
they might end up fired. I mean someone who can't see what's right in front of their eyes doesn't deserve whatever job they have...
he just wants to spoil you sometimes and he has the resources to do it and more.
sometimes this gets a little suffocating but it's sweet. mostly.
it's nice to have time with your boyfriend instead of big, grand, empty rooms. L just doesn't have a lot of time. He does his job to protect you, protect you from everything in this world because it is all inferior to you.
I do not like to think about how he would react if you happened to meet Light...
I wasn't sure about whether or not to put this in the top five because I don't think he'd see himself as inferior. his IQ is big. but you could still jump from his ego down to his IQ and fall for hours. he thinks you're more good than he is but he's under no delusions about your relative intelligence or anything.
but yeah, I think he's a worshipper.
Just... a quiet worshipper. all his yan traits are kinda quiet tho haha
L wants to give you the world. he would sacrifice anything for you.
he would take a bullet for you
his work makes this a good possibility. he'd prefer not to get shot but he'd still do it for you.
probably the most harmless of his yandere traits. this one comes out when he decides this is it, you are it, forever.
HONOURABLE MENTIONS
really quickly a couple of the other traits L might have and express are:
dependence (mostly for manipulative purposes. he will cry if you ever fight. L is honestly quite dependent on you, he might die without you-- or more likely just force you back into his arms-- but he puts on a lot of an act, a puppet master pulling strings behind the stage. he wants to be seen as vulnerable, not just a stoic and brilliant detective. because which one is it easier to lose your heart to? and you must lose your heart. you stole his first.)
monopoly (when he has time, he needs you to have time for him and only him. he doesn't have a lot of time. will manipulate you into spending time with him but it's more of an occasional pest thing than anything. quite harmless. especially because he works a lot. you have plenty of time without him, which makes him sad, but he can't help it. and you wouldn't love him if he stopped you from seeing your family and friends...)
killer (yeah... not in the top five by any means but if someone tries to hurt you? god forbid, if they SUCCEED? you'll be stuck at home for a couple of weeks while L frets over you. and sometime in that couple of weeks.. well.. maybe that someone who hurt you finds themself in trouble with a gang. L's not doing the dirty work himself but he's behind it and you will never find out. if they only TRIED to hurt you L won't be able to justify killing them to himself, but they'll quickly find themselves in jail.)
YANDERE?
so back to what I mentioned in the first part: L is a yandere, IF you're only basing the classification on the fact that he has these traits and the ability to act on them
but as anyone who's watched police or court drama knows, you need more than means and opportunity:
you need MOTIVE.
this is where I can't base my thoughts on canon so much anymore. the only people who we really see L caring about the death of (spoilers‼️) are: the FBI agents (though not on a personal level); Ukita (pretty sure that's his name); and Watari (though L himself dies too soon after for this last one to be useful)
so. Ukita.
L probably wouldn't care enough for the guy to go yandere for him LMFAO but we do see him refusing to rush in and take action without thinking, something which a yandere might be more inclined to do if they cared about someone.
HOWEVER we also see he's trembling. like he's a little in shock about the death and what it means, but also he wants to do something about it.
a yandere urge, brought out by something bad happening to someone he cares about.
My point being?
L has the traits of a yandere, and has the ability to act on any of them any time. he's smart, he's rich, and he has the trust of the entire world (or respect at least)
but he doesn't act unless triggered.
and ofc because he doesn't have a canonical love interest, we can't prove either way what he would do for/to them.
but I think he is more deredere (love) than yanderu (sick).
anyway, L is smart enough to realise that the yandere doesn't usually win the game of love, and that the things are not things you should be doing for/to someone who trusts you. not things you should be doing to someone you love.
but sometimes, when his emotions are high and so is the danger to you or your relationship,
his control just slips
and you might just find yourself locked in a hotel room while he works on the Kira case.
SO IS HE A YANDERE?
no. I'd say that he's a kuudere.
cold, cynical, sarcastic sense of humour, views feelings as a weakness but DOES have them and will open up over time.
but oh...
wait...
according to the dere wiki...,
"Due to the way a kuudere acts, a yandere can easily pretend to be a kuudere when not acting insane."
...
so, what do we think?
★━━─・‥…━━━☆
but hey that's just a theory... a DERE theory! aaand cut.
𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 ˏˋ⋆˖⁺˖⁀➷ 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 + 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜
178 notes
·
View notes