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yandere-daydreams · 2 days ago
I really think Kaeya is, at his core, more lonely than anything else.
He has a stable job, and normal hobbies, and while he does drink a little too much and hold his secrets a little too close, that doesn't mean he's a bad person, none of that makes him evil. He might be eccentric, but he does what he can to lighten Jean's workload, to safeguard Diluc's identity, to protect the people of Mondstadt in ways the other Knights can't. He's distant, but that doesn't mean he's cold. His actions can seem... chaotic, from the outside, but he's not cruel. He doesn't seem to want to cause any harm.
Even with you, he's no more malicious than he has to be. Despite the locks on your bedroom door, the shackle around your left ankle, he claims to think of you as a lover, not a prisoner, a companion, not a pet. He wants to bring you closer to him, not push you further away. That's all. He just wants to keep you close.
He brings you gifts, intricate jewelry and flowers picked outside of the city's walls - delicate things, precious things, things he knows you like, even if you never thank him. He never asks for anything in return, but you see the way he smiles when he catches you admiring a sapphire-encrusted pendent or the first cecilia of the new season. He wants to endear himself to you, despite everything, and this is how he's chosen to go about it.
He tells you about his day, about the foreign diplomats the Knights are hosting, about rumors he's heard that you might take an interest in and whether or not he thinks there's any truth behind them. You think it's supposed to be comforting, that he's trying to distract you from the fact that you're at a near-stranger's mercy, and he does do his best to tell you things you want to hear, to avoid mentioning people you might've known, to not do anything to provoke memories better left unsurfaced. Sometimes, he pulls you into his lap as he rambles, and sometimes, you let him, if only to avoid the awful silence that always follows pushing him away. He knows you don't want to be here, to be with him, and this is his way of making it up to you.
He touches you, as often as you'll let him. There's a kiss when he leaves in the morning, another when he comes back, and he likes to be near you, to slot himself against your side, to find his way to your bed when he's too exhausted and too inebriated to do anything more than rest his head on your chest until he tires of listening to your heartbeat. When you break one of his rules, when he catches you trying to pick one of his many locks or struggling against one of his many chains, he only brings you closer, even if his hands feel just a little colder, his words words a little more cutting, his tone caught between playful degradation and genuine hurt. He needs to keep you by his side, and this seems to be the only way to make you understand that you're never getting away.
He just has so little he can call his own, so few people he can confide in, no one he can rely on to be there and not leave him, alone and cold, unsure of what to do and who to cling to when his own strength falters. He does love you, even if he has a strange way of showing it, even if he knows you don't believe him, that you likely never will. He loves you, and he wants to be close to you. He knows that you're miserable with him. He knows that you don't feel the same way, but he just can't take it to heart. He just can't let you go.
He just can't be alone, again.
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yandere-romanticaa · a day ago
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... the look of absolute, raging anger in Itto’s eyes as you lay there in front of him, blood oozing from the corners of your bruised lips, your body limp from the exhaustion and sore from the bruises that littered your body from head to toe. Itto was for the most part, calm, very calm. His breathing was heavy, his footsteps were so quiet you'd think that he almost wasn't there. Outstretching his strong arm towards you, his fingers gently traced your beaten face. Anger boiled in his heart as raging screams started to echoe throughout the massive field you were in.
You were foolish enough to take a commission in regards to handling some treasure hoarders, underestimating their skills along the process. They caught you off guard in the dark of the night, stealing you away into their camp as they toyed with you, threatening to gut you like a fish as you begged them to set you free, that you wouldn't go anywhere near them but the cruel men just weren't having it.
He knew something bad was going to happen, that's why he followed you. That's why there's red hot blood on the ground and his hair, that's why there is the disgusting smell of gore on his weapon. The cries of the men fell on deaf ears as he swung his claymore like a madman, slicing through anything and anyone that dared to stand in his path. They ignored your pleas for mercy, why should he listen to theirs? He was going to teach these bastards a lesson, and they were going to pay with their lives. He made a mental note to be extra sweet towards you, to spoil you a bit more than usual once this was all said and done.
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blzzrdstryr · 2 days ago
First times
Yandere Dainsleif x reader, side NPC x reader
sort of not SFW
CW: Yandere, non graphic death and violence, descriptions of sex
Humans have a habit of attributing special meaning to the "firsts" - first love, first kiss, first break up. You're no exception to this, as the memory of the first dance you shared still burns brightly in your memory even after centuries, the picture of that day remaining perfectly unchanged.
It was the spring, a year before the Fall, when you got a grip and finally found the confidence to attend the festival.
Khaenri’ah, despite it's huge technological advantage still stayed the same at its core with it's own tradition dictating the daily life of an everyman. Gold and other notable alchemists may have created new life forms and weapons that could shake even Celestia down in their dark and hidden laboratories, but the average citizen would still celebrate the same events their ancestors did. You were no exception to that.
You donned your best fit and jewelry before heading out to the city square, which was already full with others celebrating. Stalls with alcohol and food opened up and the crowd in the center danced to the music of street musicians.
People of all sorts: rich and poor, young and old joined the dancing creating the small sea of moving bodies. Despite that none formed the pair and shared the dance yet, as it held a significant meaning. Dance is something more than two bodies moving together, dance is a synchronicity of the souls, a slow fusion of two minds into one.
That day you couldn’t really dance with anyone - your partners left for others, sensing the doubt in your mind and seeing the clumsiness in your moves. You thought it would be over for your festive mood - all the years you spent holed up in your small corner of the royal castle, scribing another scroll, you dreamed of being here, and now you wish to be anywhere but here.
You almost turnt back, to head back to home and sleep the rest of the night until you felt a light tap on your shoulder.
It was Dainsleif, a tall and young knight of kingsguard, the famed Twilight Sword. A surprised sound traveled through the crowd as both you and people surrounding you froze staring at the rising star of Khaenri’ah.
“May I ask for your dance?”, Dainsleif asked, cutting the sudden silence with precision of his skills, and you nodded, still enchanted by his visage. Right in that moment he looked beyond dashing, surrounded by the flickering light with his blue eyes accentuated by the sapphires in his gold accessories, almost the same shade as his hair.
It was truly a magical moment - you danced and you thought you were dreaming, as everything felt right - from the wind gently playing with your hair to the feeling of his hands supporting your body. For a short eternity you allowed yourself to relax, to melt into his embrace and dissolve in the moment, in the sensation. He hummed into your ear, satisfied to see you change, a “now you’re being good” whispered in a low sultry voice.
Shivers went through your spine - what a voice it was! Enchanting, like the rest of Dainsleif, you wanted to do nothing but obey and so you did, allowing him to lead the rest of the dance, your heart skipping a beat everytime he opened his mouth to praise you some more.
“I would be happy to have your dance next year”, Dainsleif exclaimed when you two finally parted, quite loudly, pulling out a mix of scandalized gasps and muffled cheers from the crowd, and you realized your cheeks were burning - no way you thought someone as lofty as a royal knight would allow himself such bold and shocking move.
“I would be happy too”, you smiled in return and now headed back to your home - the events of this night were enough to last a year. Your heart was fluttering as you were walking, his request re-playing in your head again and again. A small part of you was scared that he would simply forget you, but the bigger part, the one that was cheering and singing reassured that he won’t, after all dances are always something more in Khaenri’ah.
You couldn’t wait for the next festival, which would never happen again.
The fall happened surprisingly quickly - you were away from the city that day, finishing the task the king had entrusted you with, when the sky went red and then the silence fell.
The destruction of your nation was a surprisingly quiet one - Celestial wrath was horrible, but it also was swift, quick as lightning bolt. You saw how the buildings - those beautiful proud buildings crumble in seconds, as ash and smoke enveloped everything, and then you fell, a curse falling on you.
The curse didn’t kill you, nor did it transform you, rendering your body immune against the flow of time instead. A mercy some would say, but it was mercy only on the surface - the time couldn’t change your body, but it changed your mind, chipped and cut away the parts that were tender, human, and grew new one - cynical and tired. An old you would be horrified to learn what person you became.
The only part that stayed constant and unchanging were memories of the firsts, that dance included. They led you through life, reminding of days when the Sun was brighter and your laughter free of any gloom.
That must be why you came to Mondstadt, despite staying away from any big city for a very long time now - to remember. This week is a festive week too, with Mondstadtiants proudly celebrating it with flowing rivers of beer and wine, some silly games and some dances, right in the city square too.
You didn’t change your outfit, or don your best jewelry as you don’t have any, but you suppose you don’t really need any of it now. Five centuries of experience made your body into something more graceful and refined than you could ever imagine. A simple gait is enough to turn heads.
You feel how the crowd follows your figure with the eyes alone, as you slowly walk up to the center. Mondstadtians don’t hold the same significance of the dances, nor do they dance as Khaenri’ahns once did, but some values are shared. Like appreciation for the grace of the human body.
You made a couple of moves, and gazes grew in their intensity, a smirk appearing on your face. Rare dancers could hope to achieve what you did now, a countless amount of hours would be spent repeating in vain hope to copy a pale version of you.
“Oh, Barbatos”, you heard, and then turned, catching an awed look of another Mondstadtian - a man in his mid twenties judging by his appearance, a small boy compared to your centuries. Did you look at Dainsleif the same way when he asked for you to dance with?
“Hello”, you smiled, turning your attention to him: “I would like to dance with someone. Can you grant my wish?”. The boy turned red, but nodded nonetheless, extending his hand to yours, his body as stiff as a wooden board.
“At ease”, you whispered in his ear: “I don’t bite. Just relax and let me do the rest”. The shiver went through his body and you started to lead, your moves fast and lithe, centuries of experience shining through the cold beauty of the well-polished knife.
Your thoughts returned back to the shining beautiful city, a glimmering city square, existing five hundred years ago, as your body continued to move. You didn’t notice when the dance stopped, continuing for some time, before letting your partner go free.
“Oh archons”, the man muttered, turning even redder: “you were perfect! Can I get another dance? I’ll buy you wine if you want!”
You looked at him, a small half-smile playing on your lips - he wasn’t striking or dashing like some of your previous partners were, but he wasn’t ugly either, possessing a simple, boring, plain face. A perfect face for someone to sleep with, a perfect face to forget.
“Of course”, you answered, before leaning in and placing a short and surprisingly chaste kiss - a small treat and a promise of what’s to come next, before allowing yourself to be involved in another dance.
That Mondstadtian was eager, taking you by the hand from one place to another, buying you trinkets and snacks you wanted, showing the famous sights of Mondstadt. It was amusing to watch him jump over himself to please you. He was also eager to undress you after leading you to his house, placing a flurry of fast kisses at every patch of revealed skin. The same eagerness was reflected on his thrusts, fast and deep, right after you hugged and locked his torso with your legs, before pulling him for another kiss, deep and lewd this time, a series of moans escaping your mouths right after parting your lips, pleasure spreading through your body like molten gold.
He was so eager in fact, that he managed to tire you out at the end of your passionate session, a feat few could achieve.
“You’re really good”, you said, slurring, fatigue tugging at your eyelids: “It would be nice to repeat it sometimes”, and then you fell asleep.
The dream you saw was grim and murky, a dark pit of anxiety and too many stories with no closures achieved. You see familiar gold of hair and sapphire of eyes, a ghost of Dainsleif coming to haunt your mind for the sacred bond of dance spit on and shattered.
“How dare you”, the phantom seethes: “How dare you dance with him!”
“Khaenri’ah died. You died. I doubt there’s anyone but me who didn’t die. There’s no one to honor the sanctity of the dances now”.
The specter shivers, it’s body changing and growing and shrinking at the same time - he looks like a phantasmagorical tragedy, he looks like Khaenri’ah in its last moment.
“No one to remember?! That’s why you sleep around! That’s why you allow some strangers to debase you so much! Does it bring you pleasure? Profaning your body like that… making a shameful fool of yourself”, specter shrinks again, collapses on itself, like a ground during an earthquake.
“Are you done?”, you ask, totally unimpressed by “Dainsleif”’s heated tirade. For some reason you always dream of him after you dance.
“No, not at all”, the ghost responds: “you should return to the waking world and see for yourself. We, khaenri’ahns, after all dream of dreaming”.
These words vague and seemingly meaningless plant another seed of tightly knitted anxiety, another bundle of frayed nerves to the mountain of others and you emerge back to consciousness, the last of your sleep popping like a water bubble, too fragile to handle reality.
You feel ache at first - between your legs(which was expected, given how energetic your partner was), and at the both sides of your neck(strange, you don’t remember him biting you) - and then the arm wrapped around your body.
“Sorry”, you quietly say, standing up and unwrapping a possessive limb - he doesn’t wake.
It's night and the pale moonlight gives you just enough not to stumble, but it’s still not enough to see your reflection in the mirror. You look around, until you notice a silhouette of the candlestick.
A moment later and the wick burns with the small, dancing fire melting the wax. You take a candlestick, approaching the mirror and the thing that you see makes you drop the light from your hands.
In this short moments your eyes stumble over the wide necklace of bruises on your neck, like someone was strangling you, matching the slashed throat of your dance partner, his face peaceful, as if he’s still sleeping and the glimmer of familiar gold and sapphires lurking in the shadow, right behind your naked form.
Looks like Dainsleif couldn’t forget his first dance too.
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sutookaa · 2 days ago
Don't you understand?!
Locked away with you and only you for eternity!
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yandererat · 2 days ago
I wish you were more comfortable asking me for things. Why can't you understand that your happiness is mine, too?
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captain-krunchy · 2 days ago
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I really like this request! I hope this is what you are looking for!😁💝 
A/N: I did this were it was really generalized and not really all that specific with how each Avenger acts separately and as a group, but if you want something like that feel free to private message me on either this account or my spam account (@captain-krunchy-spam)
Yandere (platonic) Avengers with a father figure reader (Headcanons):
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- It’s safe to say the members of the Avengers need some serious love and affection even if the love and affection are completely platonic.
- Their obsession with you does not just start when they see you. It’s after knowing you for a while and getting to see your kind personality.
- You somehow end up speaking to Steve Rogers on a regular basis. It’s more of him raving about Tony’s arrogance, but still, you sit by and let him get everything off his chest.
- Then comes the bigger stuff. He talks about missing the time before (more of missing Peggy) and other deeper things and you are surprisingly supportive.
- The next time Natasha sees Steve he is happy as he is about to leave for your weekly meeting, and she follows him, and one thing leads to another and you are suddenly having brief meetings with all of the Avengers.
- The first to start the obsession is Tony he starts watching you constantly through city cameras and you make him think of his father not being very supportive.
- Tony feels the same connection to you that he wanted to feel with his father and he does not want to risk you dying and losing the chance to connect with another father.
- The sneakier avengers find out Tony’s plan and it plunges the team into chaos after the news gets around.
- They all start whispering horrible things about the others trying to make you hate them or they will try and pull you to somewhere private so you’re easier to kidnap.
- If they decided to share you:
- They all find a common ground to keep you (willing or unwilling)
- They get organized
- Each Avenger has certain times they get to have you. This means you get absolutely no time to yourself.
- One of them is always with you.
- Arguments still ensue when it comes to you, especially with the more vocal Avengers.
- They honestly get like a bunch of kids arguing with each other while you’re left to deal with the arguing.
- Just to be clear they still whisper bad things about each other to you.
- If they don’t decide to share you:
- Bad things happen.
- They try taking each other out of the picture.
- Sabotaging equipment before fights.
- And the things they tell you about the others get particularly heinous in hopes of making you afraid of the others.
- Overall the Avengers look up to you and justify their actions by saying they just care about you so much. Especially if you are taken against your will.
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wwwdotblushie · a day ago
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please call me cute again!!!! I’m so glad I’m adorable to you, that’s all I want in my life, please please please please call me cute again!!!!!!! i swear my heart can take it so call me cute I’ll be so so cute for you!!!!!
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kowai-yume · a day ago
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yandere-puppy · 2 days ago
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watch me bleed out
then tell me to clean up my mess..
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loiyon · 8 hours ago
It's difficult waiting for someone when they couldn't care less about you. Maybe I'm waiting for just the wrong person...
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