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dr3c0mix · 1 year

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Okay hear me out: yandere harpy. The reader is on a hike or something and he notices them and is immediately enamored. He grabs them and keeps them in his nest and because it's so high up they can't get down on their own 😳

Lovey Dovey

Harpy x GN Reader

CW: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome

first day back from my hiatus and were already on some more sweet sweet terato ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡ ive never written a harpy before but by golly ive been wanting to for a while! thank you smallcactus22 for requesting!

🪶 All you wanted was a fun adventure away from work, a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a colorless cubicle for god knows how long.

🪶 You wanted, no, needed a vacation. You looked through the many websites that showcased lovely tourist spots like beaches and retreats, all either a little too shady or way too expensive.

🪶 One caught your eye though, an ad for a hiking trip across a mountainous landscape filled with lush greens and lovely pink flowers, it was pretty affordable too. You immediately booked a spot on the hiking trail and wrote up a letter to your boss that you'd be on vacation for a few days.

🪶 When you finally came, you were already enamored by the scenery. Everything was a pink and reddish hue from all the petals that fell from the trees. You saw a person holding up a sign that said, "Hiking Trail!" and quickly ran up to the group of people supposedly taking the same hike as you.

🪶 The tour guide explained the history of the trail, it sounded more of a legend or myth however, with him speaking of an ancient race of humans with the ability to fly.

🪶 You thought nothing of it, probably just a part of the place's culture or something, you then followed the rest of the group to start the hike.

🪶 You couldn't help this uneasy feeling of being watched while on the trail, like there was something following you as you continued along the red path surrounded by pinks and blueish greens. It was probably a wild animal or two, you were in a forest after all.

🪶 On the other hand, Kalva could do nothing but watch you from the dense flora he was perched within. He's seen humans travel through the harpy infested woods before, all of which were uninteresting as a dried leaf on the ground.

🪶 So when he laid his eyes on you, it felt like an arrow to his chest. He was taken aback by how cute you were, so soft, so graceful. With the shawl you had on he would've mistaken you for one of his kind if it were not for you walking alongside other humans.

🪶 The harpies were very weary of humans, especially tourists. Only the few that have grown up near the mountains know of their existence, one that is protected lest danger falls on them like the old dragons of legend that was wiped out by greedy humans who thought of themselves as divine saviors in a world of evil.

🪶 Even with all these thoughts swirling in his head, he thought you were different. You didn't look at all like the other tourist who were babbling to themselves about who knows what with their funny black bricks that sparked now and again. They were so clumsy and ditzy compared to you who was just admiring the scenery around you, truly in the moment unlike the others who only cared for a nice photo or two.

🪶 After about an hour, the group stopped at a rest stop to take a break, you kept watching the flora dance and sway as everyone else drank and rested their feet. You treaded deeper into the pink forest, making sure to keep the rest stop in sight.

🪶 Just then you hear rustling from above, a large shadow gliding past you from overhead. You would think it was a bird if not for the size of the shadow. The shadow circled around you, as the shaking of the leaves above grew louder and louder.

🪶 Now your uneasiness is back tenfold, your heart racing as you frantically look around.

🪶 There was nothing there however, and you breathe a sigh of relief before turning to go back to the rest stop.

🪶 You yelp as you are, however, met with giant yellow eyes staring at you. You trip on a tree root and fall on your butt as a man half covered in feathers stared at you, penetrating your very soul.

🪶 You try to scramble away but the creature keeps walking nearer and nearer, his head cocking to the sides like that of a bird.

🪶 Your back meets with a tree as you're left in the mercy of this massive birdman in front of you. You feel tears starting to form in your eyes as a taloned hand reaches to your face.

🪶 You were surprised at the gentle touch you felt on your face as Kalva wiped your tear away, cooing softly.

🪶 "uhm...hello there?" you mutter.

🪶 "hello..." He replies in a raspy but quiet voice.

🪶 "Wh-who are you?" you ask, the tension in your body dissipating as you get more comfortable with him, well not really comfortable, just a little less tense as you were before.

🪶 "My name is...Kalva..."

🪶 "Kalva..I'm (Y/N).."

🪶 His pupils dilate at the sound of your name. He mutters it to himself like a word he wished to remember.

🪶 He sniffs at you, all over your body and clothes, focusing then on your bag. You reach inside and take out some crackers you packed for the hike and gave it to him. He was confused at first, never seeing a seed or insect like it, but was then greeted with a wonderous sensation of sweet and salty. He squawks happily, nuzzling his head into your chest, making you a tad bit surprised and unsure of what to do now that a bird man creature thing is cuddling you in a forest. You placed a hesitant hand on the back of his head and started petting him, he started cooing very softly, that must mean he's happy.

🪶 You then hear the tour guide call for everyone to continue on the trail, you greet Kalva goodbye and try to walk away when you're suddenly grabbed by your shoulders and lifted up. You yelp and scream, asking to be put down but the harpy ignored your pleas and flew high up into the mountains.

🪶 Oh what a day it was for Kalva! He knew the little human was the one! They fed him, they preened him, just like a good mate would! He must have been very good as his courting! Of course, his little mate couldn't have seen it from down below, but they surely would have if they accepted him so quickly right afterwards!

🪶 Finally they reached his perch atop a tall mountain. It was a giant circular hut of some kind made of branches and lined with colorful flowers and leaves. Inside, his nest was filled with cotton of the softest kind, only the best for his mate! Little baubles and shiny trinkets hung from the curved ceiling and trinkled softly as they shook. He placed them down as they shook in fear at the height.

🪶 Kalva landed next to them cooing and chirping comfortingly, don't worry my lovely! You won't fall from here! I will protect you!

🪶 It was like this for days; you trapped a thousand miles high in a nest you can't escape from otherwise the harpy would find you and carry you back. He would leave for hours at a time, offering you food and small gifts he's found he thought you might like, some of them things left behind by other tourists like a water bottle, a book, a hat and a few others.

🪶 At night, he'd pull you into a warm embrace under his wings. He can't help but stare at you as you snore peacefully under him.

🪶 Of course you were frightened to the core the whole time, but you tried your best to explain to him that you weren't his mate and that you needed to go home, but he kept insisting that you two were meant for each other, for him to coddle and fed you and you to love and preen him when he returns home.

🪶 He dreams for you both to have chick of your own, the idea of coming home to the happy chirping of little hims and yous gave him a happy giddy feeling.

🪶 After a while you figured getting down on your own wasn't an option and Kalva was your only hope in returning to the familiar world below.

🪶 You started talking to him more, books he would bring home, you'd read to him, food collected would be shared between you two.

🪶 And somehow, throughout this whole process, you managed to grow quite close to the man.

🪶 He understood English more, now collecting other foods like stolen snacks from tourists instead of bugs and wild fruits he'd usually eat.

🪶 You found yourself missing his company when he was away. He'd chirp happily as you rushed to hug him as he lands in your shared nest after a hunt.

🪶 Soon enough, he'd trust you to explore the mountain's peak outside of the nest. There was a lovely little lake next to his abode with a tree bearing red fruits. In the distance you could hear the faint calls of other harpies.

🪶 All you wanted was a fun adventure away from work, and you were given more than what you've bargained for, a glimpse into a hidden world of creatures far beyond your imagination, with one of them being your very loving mate.

and as a bonus, Kalva doodle for yall <3

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fandomobbsessedb · 1 year

Text

Yandere!Wally Darling x Female Reader.

Summary: Reader goes for a stroll in the woods on the edge of The Neighborhood when it starts to feel like somethings wrong, when something tells them they’ve done all this before

AN- This is my first shot at a “Welcome Home” one-shot and I really hope that it turns out decent lol

Key: P/F= Preferred Flowers

TW: Manipulative behavior!!. Very descriptive setting/ other worldly feelings/ out of body feeling.

⚪️🟠🟡🟢🔵🟣🔴🟠🟡🟢🔵🟣🔴🟠🟡🟢⚫️

Breathing in the bittersweet and earthy tones of the hearty oak trees around you, your feet continue their walk on the colorfully (soft?) road. In your right arm a basket from Julie, you had been at her house to help her with a new garden set up and in return she gifted you a bouquet of (p/f)!

In your left hand you where periodically smelling the crazy rose you found growing alone a few feet away from all the other single colored roses, the outside petals where a beautiful royal blue and the inside was a dark hellish black. For some odd reason you saw it and just couldn’t stop thinking of the Darling, your darling, Wally Darling. You and Wally have been a thing for as long as you could remember. You’ve always lived in Home with him, you two are rarely apart, always attached at the hip.

You tried racking your brain as to how this crazy flower reminded you of him, maybe because it was so different, and to you Wally felt different. It would make sense you see him differently than the rest, he’s your love.

An odd feeling drew you from your thoughts, the pressure of a hard ground beneath your feet, and not the comfortable cradling one it was just in. Looking around you came to your senses and realized you where into the forest now, the colorful road long gone, you couldn’t even tell how far from it you where. Inspecting your surroundings it not only felt like you where looking around, but like something was watching you back, part of you wanted to believe it was watching you to keep you safe, but you knew it wasn’t real…..

You always asked Wally to go on pic-nic’s in the forest but he would steer you far far from the tall woods.

Thinking you could find your way back on your own you turned around and tried to go back the way you came. As you went on it felt like not only the ground was hard, but the sticks on the trees seemed harder than the soft squishy ones you would throw to Barnaby. Instead of the comfy rounded ends that would bump into you to make you aware of their presence, these sticks felt harsh and pokey, almost like they where grabbing at you with hands that belonged to the bodies the eyes inhabited and were pulling at your pretty mini rainbow dress that complimented your Wally.

Continuing your trek into the woods you started to realize little by little the odd changes. The air felt thick and muggy… you thought your eyes where tricking you, on the very edges of the trees and the bushes there was a darkness barley peeking it’s head out of hiding, just around your pupils… the sounds of the birds and bugs started to dull out into a sharp pitched sound, like when your dancing with Wally late into the night and your radio channel ends with a sharp sound that Wally quickly turns off, only exposing you for a spilt moment…

The basket in your arms feeling heavier then before, looking down to see the reason…. Your whole bouquet was wilted, all your pretty flowers you where going to show Wally… they where all dead, looking to the rose in your other hand the world around you started to spin, now instead of seeing it as your love, it made you feel sick, staring at the black center it consumed your eye sight, feeling like a black hole you where falling into.

You dropped the rose unable to move any other part of your body, the sharp brain warping sound filing your head, now not being able to feel anything, you slowly painfully lift your head to look around, there no more sounds, no more colors, no more dimension-

The trees are black lines filled in with a dark color that’s pulling you towards their gravity only for another to shove you in the opposite direction, the ground trips you even more off your trail as it looks like grey sand, slipping all over the floor. It doesn’t help when your already trying to get your way back. Everything started to move, the trees swayed almost animated… the bushes jumping up and down like an old cartoon, and then you, not even able to find a grip, because everything shocks you like static. A distorted voice coming from the trees breaks you out of your spin-

“Oh Mrs.Darling… My darling… haven’t we been through this already…. You can’t leave….. didn’t you learn that the first 3 times you tried this…..?”

Flashes of a bright white light blinding your vision and threw you in all sorts of directions, shapes and colors started to make pictures in your head.

A woman brushing a small girls hair into their favorite style

A bigger teenage boy throwing the smaller infant into the air and watching them giggle with joy…

A father and mother hugging the now ten year old child as a congratulations for making it to the next grade…

The older teenager who was once the child spending the day with their friends doing the things they all love…

The young adult once teenager hugging their parents in their soon to be filled apartment….

The grown woman sitting down after a long tiring day at their job, turning on the tv to watch a comforting show, the same, friendly, neighborly, bright colored show that kept them captive for hours.

a SNAP broke you from the visions and the warmth and comfort of your felt covered world came rushing back to you as you where almost blinded when the color seeped back into everything. Almost like time had been rewound to before you got lost from the road.

The stick that had just gave out beneath your foot being the only thing to assure you that what you had just been through was real. You took a step backward trying to catch your breath, feeling like something was gripping your lungs, the hands from the sticks grown into monstrously large and round hands squeezing every big of oxygen from squishy lungs, wringing them out like a water filled cloth. The ground giving out beneath you and throwing you back, almost like a million arms pushing you back towards your captivity.

Tumbling down the hill it’s impossible for you to hurt yourself, he made sure of that. Just the shock of everything that recently happened, you opened your mouth to scream but you weren’t even sure if anything came out…

You hit the bottom of the hill feeling your basket crush under your heavy body, the squished flowers ruining your dress, as you just lay there breathing, catching your breath, you hear light footsteps coming up to you. Pushing yourself up with all of your leftover strength your able to sit up, using your hips to cradle the rest of your upper anatomy you just look around.

W̵̫̼̲͉̼̭͓̽̃̀͒̈̇͗̌͂̀͠h̴̨̠̳̰̬̫̯̺̦̫͇̙͇̘͙̤̞̃̀̀̍͒͗̈́̋̕͝a̶̧̼͖͂͋͐̄͐̔̓̆͊̀̑͛̊̚t̵̢̠͙͈̣͙̠͈̏̈́͒̉ͅ ̴̟̘̯̘̠̝͇͓̟̣̤̋̅͒̂̓̾̊̅̇͊̕͜͜͠a̶̪̹̥̮̲͖͇̔̏̈͘ṛ̸̨̀͒́̅͑e̵̬̥̙͍̩̜̺͈͍̋́̒͋̽ ̷̡̛̯͎̖̼̔̋̔͆̎͗̔̎̓̓y̸̩͊̽̄̎̏͗̓́̀̊͘ǫ̷͎̟̟̤̳̃͗̾̚ű̷̧̨̺̤̙̜̠̰̺͊͋́͑̂̒̈́̃̍͌͜͝ͅ ̷̡̳͑̀͆͛̇̽̑͂͛͝ď̸̨̟̖̤͕̜͖͎̜͔͖̙̣̭͉̝͛͛͗ŏ̴̘͊̍̌̎̏̑̑͊͋͠į̸̨̱͙͈̳̻̖͚̱͇̘̹̼̓̾̓̎̑̊̾̌͌̌̆͊̕͠͝͝ͅn̷̡̢̫͈̲͈̬̹͙͈̭̗̠̬̘̺̣̽̆g̸̡̢̹͇̻̳̦̪̤̥̔̾̒̋͑ ̸̱̟̤̝͍̒͛̒̄̆͂̀̾̂h̴̙͉͇̭͍͉͙̰͗̋̀̓̆̍̒̊ë̵͇̦͈̙̥̲̥̝̖̩̯̲̥́̽̓̆̎͜ř̷̥̫̪̣͈͉͜ȩ̴̧̪̘̠̤̖̝̂͆̒̀̄̑͋̓̂͝

N̵̛̠̲̬͍̺̿̿͌͋͋̍̽̈́̽̓̌̑̐̃͂̒̓͛͊͒̽̃̂̌̂͌͊̏́̎̾̓̋̅͌͑̇͊͠͠͝͠ỡ̴̛̞̙̱͎͚̊̎̿̃̋̽̆͐͂̈́̈́̇͋͑̍͗̈́͑̍̀̒̋̈́́̀͐̀͂̋̆̓̉̈͒͘͘͝͠͝͠t̷͖͎̩͙̲̥̩̟̞͚͒̈̈́͆͗͌̏̉ ̵̯͍͓̺͎̻̙̗͙̟̞̜̝̣̯̳̭̻̩͎̤̝̯̹͇̺̭̝̞̳̯̳̹̦̩̗̠̟̫̏͌̀͛̒͛̓͗̈́̒͌̈́̂́̐͊̊̍̈́̂͌̆͗̒̈́́̚͜͜͝͝͝͠͠ͅͅf̸̢̢̢̧̢̧̛̪̺̝͕̺̝̞̺͈̫̩̣͚͎̞̘͙̦̙͎̜͓̞̘̺̩̼̝̬̫̯̼̖͈̾͒̐̑̋̍̉͌͐͆̊̿̏̐̕͝͝͝ͅơ̸̡̧̢̡̧̯͎̳̯͎͇̠̬͙̬̜̟͍̩͇̝͇̯̠̖͈̟̗͉͙̝̝̝̠̮̟̯͚͓̩̼̈͛͊̋̏͆́͂͛͜ͅͅŗ̸̛̛͉̫̹̮͍͕̖̗͍̭̠͈͔̭͖̩̝͚̻͖̳̲̩͔͕̜̼̦̪̻̳̦͛́̓͋̾̋͊̏̀̓̍̃̅̾͊̅̐̐͛̄̊͌̋̐̏̈́̉̀͐̅̃̂͌́̓͛̈̓͘̚̚͝ͅͅ ̸̟̳̔̇͊́y̴̢̡̢̧̛͚̫̣͉̻͚̗̹̬͈̝̭͙̤͕͓̱͕̯̦̻͇͖̠̹̬͖̰̻̰̼͍͖͎͚͚̭̆̐̌̄̊́́̃̋̾̑̂̑͑̏̌̋̑̄̂̉̕͘̕̕͘͠͝ͅǫ̸̨̨̨͖̣͉̬̠̩̬̞̤͈̺͌̀͒̆̊̂̄̚͝ữ̶̧̛̭̭̞̤̺͉͈̗̼̥̖̦̝̏̓͌̐̿͗̈́̄͊̔̀̊̀͋̐́͌̌̋̈̾̐̏̀̈́̐͌̽̕͘̚͝͠͠͝

A̸̢̡̢̧̧̨̢̡̧̧̨̢̨̧̛̛̛̛̛̛͚̗̗̺̹̭̩̼̦̼̩̹̺̞̣̜͖͇̱̩̖̳̮̺̱̱̗̖̳̰͓̣̗̜͓̘͉̯̯̲̹͇̬̼̯̘̭̬̳͓̩͖͔̞͈̗̼͎̠̲̜͉̭̞͎̝̱̱̘̝͎͔̰̣͎̥͕͓̙̪̻̘͖͈̟̫̲̯̭̝̻̳͖̗̣̠̭̤̭̥̯̞̫̬̥̞̮̠̟̤̦̫͔̠̳̪͇̺̖̱͉̼͎̮͓͈͈̫͉͔̳͎̻̪̖̫̤̝̲̥͗͑̒̃̀̏̏̃́̇̐̈̈̾̄̋͋̔̒͊̋̈́̅͗̈̇́̀͒͐̂̂̅̇͒̅̆͐̂̂̇̐̐͒̂̓̓̋̈́͌̄͐͊̓͊̌̀̀̿̀̾̄́̎̈͆͆̐̒̾̀̍̉́̉̂́̀͒̇̉̏̉̌͑͂̈̿͂̓͗́̀͛̒͒̌͋̐̈́̇̔̌̀͗̆̀̇̔̅́̿̅̆̄̈́̂̒͛͌̆́̄͛̕͘͘̚̕̚͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅg̸̡̢̧̨̧̢̢̡̡̢̡̧̡̢̢̡̡̛̗̭̣̣̯̫͍̪̗̞̩͇͚͈̖̪͈̼̺̪̖͚͍̹͖̲̺̠̜̗̻̜̣̥̳̳͙͇̯͇͔̩͓̘̪̰̙̪̩̖̭̳͙͚͓͚͚̞͍̗͔̪̖̺̭͕̻̣͉͚̜̲̥͎̦͙̹̞̞̝̠̹̪͕̻̣͕͉̘͈̠̫̻̘̰̹͈͕̦̮̬̤͓̣͇̟͕͕̟͚̖̯̱̹̗̼̞̭̙͇̃͊͊͋̀͒̀͒̑̽͑̎̀͒́̀̈͌͐̿̀̆͗̉̆̃̋͂̃̈́͋̒̊̄̌̆̉̀́̿̂̅̄́̈͊̉͋̉̍̾͌͊́͂͋̾̒̓̆̈́̂̆̚͘͘̚͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝ͅḫ̸̛̙̜̹̰̰̬̫̤̦̯̬̹̟͔͔̘̪̪͎͔͔̙̞̼͇̹̯̈́̽͒́̏͊̒̈͆̇͛̐͊́̏̋̽͆͐̈͌͆̈́̌͘̕̚͜͝͝h̸̢̧̡̛̛̛̛̛̛̥̣̭͉̻̙̰͓̘̰̙̺̞̺͎̮̖̭̩͙̖͕͓̮̜̘̻̳̊͒͋̉̈́́̋̄̔͊̓̂̒͂̀̽͒͗̐̅͆͑̀̔̍͊̋͒̉̅̏̀̒̍͂̿̎͐̌̒̈́͒͆̓̾͐̇̐̔̔̊̇̇̂̋̅͋̉̊̓̑̅̓̑͆̎̋̋̎́̐̀̄̃̿̽̀̓̇̂͐̽̈́̓̃̿͗̆̄͆͐̈́͐̀̿̈͐͂̀̿̍͌̓̈́̀̊͂̈̍̆̑̓͋͒̋̊̇̕͘̚̕̕͘͘͜͜͝͝͠͠͠͝͝͠͝͠͝͠͝h̵̢̡̘̜̺̹̮͓̟̖̟̮̮̳̯̩̯͉̝̥̜̭̤́͌̿̈́̈̐̈̅̀͂̇͒͛͋̓͐͘͝h̴̡̧̨̢̧̨̧̨̧̨̡̨̧̛̛̛̛̛̛̝̟̹̟̪̲̺̰̞͖͖͖̤͇̲̘̪̭̘̩̙̭̺̟̜̮̦̣͚̜͙̗̣͎̜͓͖̝̥̱̟̝̫̝̤̺̦̮̘͇̰̘̘͙̟̙̘̭͕̲̱̮̫͇̖̦̩͖̻̰͉̲̝̭͚̹̳͍͓͕͕̜͚̼̜̟̫̟̞̳̼̘͕̝̤̭͓͈̫̭̩̪̺̜̠̥͉̪̘̝̼̟̥͖̞̗̼̗̟̠͔̝̰̫̪͓̞͇̘̹̰̮̼͍̺͕͔̦̹̪͇̬̭̟̜̫̥̼͔̗͇̯̭͆͊̽͊͛̒̄̐̽͂̾͆̄̈́̽̌̆̅̍͂͊̿̓̂̈́́̈̆͑͊̀̈̃̃̊͛͌͐͒̂̿͂̈́̄̓̊͊̿͆̏͊̀͛̊͒̽͛̓͛́̔̊͛̄̑͗̂͆͒͋͌̎͆͌͗̈́̽͑̃͋̈́̓͂̉̽͂̆̓́͂̄͂̋̀̎̎̒̂̂̓͒̓͑̄̋̈͒͆̓̂̅̎̑̚̕̚̕̚͜͜͜͝͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅḩ̵̢̨̡̧̨̢̧̧̡̛̼͍̻̥̟͖̘̜͙͍̬̯̫͈̮͕͚̳͈̜̞̝̮̙̯̣̤̻̣̟͖͙͖͕͍̖̜̼̪̟̱͚̳̜̠͉̭̘̭̗͇̤̩̪͕͇͉̗̞̟̱̥̖̩̻͎̱̼̱̹͈͉̲̤͙̜͎̝̝͇͔̝̞̫̹̤̯̮̞̘̖̘̦̳͖̖͉̣̠̼̙̥͑́͐̅͐̔̑̂̌̈́́̓͂́̑̿̈́͊̈́͆͌̑̉͛͆̈́̀̋̅̿̄̓̈́͛͗͋̉̏͛̀̒̈́̄͘͜͜͝͝͠͠͝H̶̡̡̨̡̡̢̧̡̨̧̛̛̛̛̛̜͙̟͕͎̦̜̙̲̹̜̳̩͖̗͔̝̰̺̭͍̥͇̬̘̻̦̲̤͍̫͙̮̼͈̲͈͈͎̘̮̮̗͕͍̥̮̥̥̠̱̹̺̟̼̮̣̤̭̠͓͎̖̦͓̯͉̥͕̱͚͉̥̼̭̭̗͍̯̰̲̞̺̲̰̠̖̥͕̙̙̥͚̤̤̭͇̩̠̖͓̤̼̋͆̀̆̀͋̾͐̆͒̀̑̊͂̒̔̈̊͑̌̍͂̐̇͊͋̿̆̀̅̑̓̀̔͐̈́͛̋̾̽̔̈́́̓̄͐̍̄̔̍̉̓͐̎̓͐́̀̉̂̈́́͐̃̈̌̏̽̑͆͌̾̽̇͒́͌̔́̃̆̔̾̀͛̊́̊̐̌̾̂̔̀̄̿͌̈̈́̄̀̈́̈́̃̊̈́̀̔̀̐͒͒̅̓͌̽̀̂̕͘͘͘͘̕̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅh̸̡̨̧̡̡̧̧̢̢̡̧̡̨̨̢̧̢̡̡̧̨̢̧̛̛̛̩̣̘̯̠̭͉̟̟̼͕̺̰̫͉̤͖̤̫̘͙̮͖͕̻̯͈͕͕̱̠̖͚͎͇̼͉͈̰͚̝̝̼̜̪̰̲͈̬̘̦͎̰̣̮͓̺̗͈͈̦̰̝̭̻̺͔͖̹̩̱̲͕̻͇̝̭̣̯̰͖̥̘͎̝̪͉̣̣̦̤̠̤̥͈̩͈̫̖̝̙̗̜̞͓͎̱̦̲̝̖͇̯̥̹͔͕͚̖̩̹̫̱̬̱͎̦͔̘̗̗̤̞͙̠̼̥͚͉̗͙̪̬͚̗̖͖̺̥̞̯̪̦̰̻͚͎̤̦͇̖̞͇̮̟͕̮̖͙̥̞͔̜̬̻̟̣͚̘͈͒͊̂̊̂̑̍͆̇͛͐̀̾̍̆̾̄̉̓̀̃̆̿̈̔̽͛̈̀͊͑͛̀̓̄̿̓̿̈́͋͋̄̃͗͒́̒̈́͐̐̓̈́͛͌͆́̾̆̐͒̆͑͊̎̑̀̈́̃̂̀̈́̔̅̉͗͂̍̈̄̎̀͐́́̀̿̏͗̄͋̍͑̋̍̀̓̽̈̕̕̕̚̕̕̕̕̚͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅh̵̡̨̨̧̨̨̨̡̡̧̡̡̨̢̡̢̢̛̛̛̛̛̫͔̰̮̙̗̜͇͎̠̦̩͕̼̼͍͎͉̲̭͖̝̥̗̻͕͎̥̲̱̥̫̼̯̰̲̟̰̺̞̜͍͙̟̳͚͙͓̥̜̻̰͔̘̖̟̩̯̙͔̲̺̬̘͔̹̣̯̹͍̱̟̺͓̬̣̣̗̹͙͉͉͍̜̗̱͖͍̠̻̞̠̻̖̫͖͇͓͇̦͇̱̻̼͉̯͕͔̲͖̙͍̬͎̞̜̻̮̭̱͎̦̻͙͚̪͙̮̘̼̗̳͕̞̰̗̙̖̗̰̺̣̹̥͎͕͉̘̝̗̩̼͓̭̮͔͕̺̼̬̬̙̼̺̻̟̥̝̼̳͈͎̯͖̥̿̈́̊̆͛͂̀͆̉̎̈́̀̊̈́͌̏͒̑̎͛̔̄́̎̅͊̍́̽̎̌̽̉̎̉̀̊̃́͂͐̀̀̒͒̏̑̀̓̐̆̏̏̒̾̄̐̈͛̊͑̎̇͑́͋̊̎̎̈́̅̒̏͊̋͆̉̄̀̔̿̄͒̔̑̓͂̆̒̓̒̌̊̀̌̎̍̓̔̉̑̐́̎̈́͐̈́͆̆́̓͋̑́́͂̉̆̊̃̔̓̈́̄̽͌̈́̐̉́̀̋́͗͗̿̂̎͂͌̀̌̓̕̕͘͘͘̚͘͘̕͘̕̕̚͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝ͅḩ̸̛̛̛̛̗͇̮̏̍͗̓̊͋̋̄͆͋̃̈́͐̑̿̄̒̈̀̈́͑̎̀̋̀̂͊̆͌̏̏̂́̍͋̓̅̇̒͐̎͊̈̈́̉͂͆̓͆͑̆̈́̃̍̑̎̏̊̄̃̏͌̌̿̎̋̍̈́̈́͐̓̌̀͆͒̆̍̇͊͛͛́̂͗̎̀̽͗͌͑̾̏̌̀̄̒̀̅͌̂̎̋̔͑̇̒̆͊̎̀̈́͌́͐̓̏̌͋̾͆̽̀̊̾͂̈́̈́̌̈̓͒͊̒͗̆̌̉͆̈́̂͛̔̑̂̌̈́́̿͂̈́͋̍́̓͑́̎̐͊̒̀̿̓̈͌͊̑̄͑̊͗́̆͂̔͂͐̎͒̓̓̀͑̚̕̕͘̚̕̕̚̕̚̚͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝ḫ̸̨̨̧̢̛̛̛̦̙̖̰̼̜̻̟̬̰̬͖͔͇͓̤̝̫̣͔̺͖͎̬̣̩̺̟̬͈͎̫̠͎̯͉̖̬̥͓̪̟͍͚̞̲͎̯̝̦̺͕̼̯͍͓̹͕̜̗̽̐͊̍̾̔́̿͑̐̔͋̑̓͊̈́̂̒͋̊̓́̔͂̎͂́̒́̃̂̈́̉̈́̌̊̈́̆̓̂̍͑́͋́̈̃͐̉̉͒͛̅́̏̀͐́̿͋͗͐͊̂͆̀̉̽̃̏̊̒̇̀̐͐̂̀͐̈́͗̆͑̈́̀̈́͋́͆̀̄́̇͑̐͊̀̍̈́̆͑̂̒͆̔̀̆̏̃̌̍̍̎̓̓̅̋̆̈́͊̈́͗̉͋̀̆̎́͋̓̃̂̒͐͋̀͂̀̕̚͘̕̚̕̕̚͜͝͠͝͠͝͝͝ͅͅḩ̵̢̨̛͚̟͖̼̳̭̝̟̼̱̲̠̮̯̩̦͚̹̯̘̘̟͙͇̘͙̞̥̹̺͍̇̍̔̽̐̆̽͒̇̍̒̈̽̃̅̾̿̋̅̌̐̃̐͋͘̚̕̚ͅͅh̷̛̛̀̂̀̔̌̂́͌͊̃̽͒̾̏̉͛̈́̏̄͊̾̈́̈́͗̎̐̿̂̒̀̾̃̓́͑͆̀̐̋̈́̈́̉̃̑̾̎̃͌̂͗̈́͒́̓̾͘̚͘̕̕͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͠͠��̡̨̨̧̡̨̨̡̡̧̧̢̡̧̢̡̧̡̣̠͚͎͙͙̬̩͍̰̲̭͉̘̗̮̞̠͕̮͔͙̭̺̪̜̞̟̜͇͙͖̫̯̳͖̦͍̳͉̩̰̱̺̪̟̜̭̰̠͇̼͎̹͔̫̤͙̥̘̱̪̟͓͚͕̪̣̣̠̹͇͓̤̟̦̠̯̟͉͉̳͕̫̙̘͎͍͙̞̠̙̙̦̱̜͍̯͈̤͎͚̮̥͖̯̥̯̲̯̦̟͇͚̤̹̣̤̱͎͛̇̃̈̿͋̇̑̒̔͂͛̑̌͋͐̆̎̀̓͒̚̚͜͜͜͜

“Oh my- DARLING!! Oh, are you alright?” Wally scrambled over to you with concern.

You’re standing in front of a flower field, turning around to face him he gasped and paused where he was standing. “Oh love, what happened?” Words escaped your mouth before you could form them, you couldn’t speak- your dress was torn up, your pretty little flower basket crushed, your hair undone from the pretty braids Wally had done that morning.

“I….. I Uhm…… I don-“

What had happened….. did you pass out? Yeah… yeah that must be it, how else could you explain your state.

“I was helping Julie and I must’ve passed out on my way back to Home” placing your hand on your head wiping off……….. sand? You shook out your dress as best you could and as the dress seemed to get rid of the sand it was gone the minute your eyes met it.

“Oh Darling you where never at Julie’s house.” Wally said with that calming smile.

“I wasn’t?” Looking down to your dress you saw that it was torn up and soggy but no remnants of your ruined flowers.

“There was a huge rainstorm, you came out to collect your gardening tools so they wouldn’t get ruined, that was 15 minutes ago I’ve been frantic.” He stated with a downward worried gaze going to embrace you.

Placing your head to his chest feeling the soft comforting warmth you always have, feeling so tired from……….. the storm, your ready to give out.

“Oh Darling your dress is all ruined, and your face is all muddy, oh my poor love, let’s go inside and get you cleaned up so we can head to bed, don’t worry my darling I’ve got you………. I won’t let you go………”

A̵̤͍̽̓̓̅͗̐́͂̇̈́͆̕͘͝͝l̵̡͖͎̤̭̹̺̩̭̣̘̮͎̂̎̔͐̾͆̆̍̀̾̕l̵̳̪̟̭̮͇̭͓͉̬̟̒̆̅̆̿͒̓̍̈́ ̴̺̦̺̻̬̺̜̄ͅẙ̷̢͎̩̟̱̬̤̘̘̫͍͆̍õ̶̡ű̸̧͖̤͙̖͕̥̩̔̑͂̓̆͐̆̿̕̕̚ ̸̧̨͇̼͙͍̦̫͎͔̺̭͂͋͊̿̃̃͋͌̂̓c̷̛̱͓̲̥͍̦̫̆̊̈́̾́̊͒͗à̷̟̦͌͂͌̏̿͋͋̈̇n̶̬͆ ̵̰̭̻̪̰̔̀̊̀̃̐̀͌͐ḫ̵̡̰̯̜̥̲̝͖̙͗̑͆͒̔̾͌͐͋̀̎͒͘̕͝ę̸̧̝̠̞̳̫̙̜͉̲͓̥̹̩̻̋́̄͋̍̒̿̾̊̍͋̓̈́̕ą̷͔̱̖̱͈̫͖͋̅͂̓̃̽̋̒̅͝͝r̷̨͈͙͎̗̜̤͚̤͕̥͕̽̅͊̓̈́̎͑͜͠ ̵̼͉͕̲͙̟̲̝̞̲̍͆̒̀͑͌̈̉̈́̍̽̊͝ỉ̸̡̻̟̰̬̫͍̦̗̙͙̙̙̼̏̐͜ş̵̡̳̰̮̹͍̰̱̯͇̻͙͓̺͆́̽̉͂͗̌́̀̏̿̚̚̕͠ͅͅ ̸̥̀̍̓͂̍̽́̀͂̓͑̌̀͌̚ş̶̡̧̪̟͚͕̣͓̻͛̇̇̇̿̾̑͛̏́͗͛͂͗͋̓̅͜ͅt̷̛͚̮̙͚̾̊͊̎̇̏͑̕a̸̧̞͚͎͉̎̉̈́͌̌̈͘t̵̨͇͙͖̬͈̝̯̹̾ḯ̶͈̮̞͖̥̘̳̟͎̗̹̱͚͜ç̷̛̬̬̯͔͎̓̈́̍

n̶̹̝̰͈̪̪̟̻̓̽̂̿̽̑̋o̷̬̮̩̣̭̫͂̔͌̀̏̀̌̔̔̅̚ţ̸̙͇̤̻͉̖̖̜͇̫̩͉͎̮͒͑̑̄̃̾̓̅̆̀͘ͅh̸͓̰͕̙̖͚̩̦͐̅̽̄͗͑͂i̶̛̦̺̼̖̠͕̦͍̲͑͊̋̄̂̅͗͐͊̀̎͑̿͠ǹ̵̨̢̖͉̗̗͎̜̥̮͈̝̲͛̊̑̋̌̕͜͜g̴̲͚͉̱͍͍̰͓͖̝̩̠̩̔̅͋̌̐̒̂͌̏̀̔̈́̅͆̑ ̶͖̱̱̠̔̑̀̉̏̌̓̄͆̎͑̈̃͜i̵̖̬̻̦̤̗͎̙̅͜s̴̠͙̥͕̯̬͙̺̦̻̤̓̓̆͑̀̂̕̕̕͜͝ ̷̧̢͉͇̲̠̲̞͈͍̣͙͎͌͊̌͂̎̓̑͊̈́̈́͒̚̚m̴̢͕͈̿͗̌̈́̾̇͛͑̐͛̽́̕͝͠ö̵̧̧̡͇́v̸̨̞̱͖̪̳͓̭̮̥̲͎͓̀̉̽͘į̴̡̧̬̯͍͕̩̟̳͉̱̪̭̀̀́̌͂̐̃̒̌͜͝ṇ̵͍͖̼̳̪̏̽̋̾̀̍̈g̶̰̣͂͂́̍͊̂͆̎̏͠ͅ ̶̩̥͚̖̓̀̍̑͐̍͆̂͊̋̏̈́͊͝

Opening your eyes your now at your vanity in your room, Wally’s brushing out your hair. Your wearing your matching blue pajama set.

“There we go my beauty, all cleaned up” he placed his hands on your arms and laid his head atop yours.

“Look at my pretty darling, my beautiful darling.” He sighed out kissing the top of your head then turning you around so that he may hold you just as he did in your garden.

Letting him go you spin around happily and throw yourself onto his side of the bed, giggling you see Home wave the cupboard doors around and shiver the room a bit. Wally chuckles a bit and lies down with you, all three of you sighing out in content, Home simply expanding the room a bit almost in a relaxed state.

“Goodnight Wally”

“Goodnight my darling” as you lay together you gaze into his eyes, thinking about how beautiful the color of his eyes would be as a flower…

#welcome home puppet show #welcome home #wally darling #welcome home x reader #x reader #female reader #home welcome home #wally darling x reader #flowers

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darkbluekies · 1 year

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Hunted

Female!yandere!mafia OC x reader

Summary: you know that Jerry is insane ... so why did you ever try to escape her?

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, guns, killing animals and humans, bullet wounds

Word count: 3.1k

Jerry could realize her mistake of not locking the door to your room any minute and by then you want to be gone. With legs full of electricity, you hurry out of the room and sneak through the corridors, silently hoping that you won’t meet anyone on the way. Thankfully, the most trusted ones are still at dinner and the rest … wasted. You can tell someone lying blacked out on a couch with an empty liquor bottle in his hands. Quickly, you run past him.

The front doors have an alarm system that will go off once you open the door. You hover your trembling hand over the handle, preparing yourself mentally. The second those sirens go off, you have to run and not look back. You breathe out heavily. It’ll be easier said than done. You know for sure that the second the loud beeping starts, you’ll be so mortified that you’ll forget every single movement you’ve learned.

Finally, you do it. You rip the door open and the signals go off as planned. Without looking back, you run as if you’ve never run before.

The ground beneath you is unsteady, telling you that it’s most likely a forest Jerry’s been keeping you captive in. Your heart is pounding in your ears, legs burning. You can’t hear if someone is following you and frankly … you’re not stopping to find out.

You run until the sun rises and by then your legs are non existent. You can’t feel anything. Tired, you slump down with your back against a tree. With heavy breaths, you try to collect yourself and think of what you’ve done. Just two hours ago, Jerry took you to the bedroom of the secluded base. You had been forced to spend the entire evening with the most trusted mafia members, dining with them and joining in on a dangerous game of poker. You have never seen Jerry as focused as you did then. In the end, you had asked Jerry to leave, because of a ‘headache’. She had followed you to the bedroom and then left you … without locking the door.

“What do I do?” you pant for yourself while looking around. “Where do I go?”

No one will answer you, no one will help you. But hearing your own voice in this silent forest gives you some comfort.

You know you shouldn’t stay in one place too long. It wouldn’t surprise you if Jerry has put a GPS tracker in your body. You’ve always known that Jerry is insane. Ever since that day she decided that you would be hers. But you could never have anticipated how crazy she really was. If you ever met the devil, it would be her. Jerry’s ignorant, selfish and overbearing.

You sigh and pull the checkered cardigan closer to hide the scratch marks Jerry's acrylic nails have left on your body. They're a sign of dominance and ownership. Wherever you go, everyone around — including you — knows that you belong to Jerry. It wouldn't surprise you in the slightest if she put a GPS tracker in your body.

A loud bang echoes. Gun shots. You gasp and press yourself closer to the tree. Something falls in front of your feet. Quickly, you shut your eyes. When you dare to take a peak, you see a dead crow in front of you. It's bleeding from its chest and the black eyes stare right at you.

"Hah, got it!" you hear an eccentric voice shout.

You turn your head to see four men in their early sixties hurry in your direction. They hold hunting gear in their hands.

"Oh?" one of them says upon noticing you. "We're sorry miss/sir, we didn't see you. You're not hurt, are you?"

"No", you breathe out.

"What are you doing so far out in the woods at this time of day? The sun just exposed herself."

"What are you doing?" you return the question rather passively. "You could hurt someone …"

One of the men smiles and picks up the bird by its feet. You feel sorry for the little creature.

"We're hunters", he smiles. "Part time."

"We have to get away from our nagging wives one way or another", another chuckles.

The chuckle is warm and genuine, reminding you of your dad. You think that these men must have their own children and suddenly pity your father. Why did his child have to become the pet of a criminal? He doesn't know if you're alive or not. And you intend to keep it that way. The less your family knows about your whereabouts, the better for them and for you.

"You should consider yourself pretty lucky that we didn't notice you earlier", one of the men says and holds out his hand to you. "We would have thought that you were a deer."

You take his hand and he drags you up on your feet. You wobble and fall back against the tree, leaning onto the bark.

"What's wrong?" one of the men asks.

"Nothing, just … tired", you say. "I've been on my feet a long time."

"Get up on my back, I'll carry you."

You hesitate. "Are you sure?"

"I've carried two bear cubs over one shoulder, I can take you."

You climb up on his back and follow the four hunters back to their wooden cabin.

"Do you live here?" you ask.

"No, hunters can borrow it when they're out here", the man who first noticed you says. "As long as you clean up after yourself."

They let you rest in one of the beds and give you some of the meat they've caught. While you're eating, they tell you how they became friends in school during the 70's and stayed together until now. They tell you about their families, their jobs and pets.

"We're going home tomorrow afternoon", Phil — the man who took the crow — says. "If you'd like, you can join us."

You hesitate. Frankly, you haven't decided on where you should go or what you should do. Going back out into civilization could get you recognized, but staying out in the forest could mean life or death. You're safer in the city.

"Thank you, I'd like that", you say.

The morning after, the hunters leave the cabin for one last hunt. You lay still in bed and breathe in the silence. Finally, you’re left alone without feeling like there’s someone breathing down your neck … although you can’t let yourself fully relax yet. Somewhere out there, Jerry is looking for you and you know that she won’t stop until she finds you. It’s a scary feeling. You’re just waiting for the moment she has you trapped, like a mouse in a trap. But here, Jerry isn’t the brown little mouse … she’s the big, gray cat.

Your thinking is interrupted by four loud gun shots.

Your thinking is interrupted by small sounds outside the cabin. Sounds of footsteps.

“Is there anyone in there?” a man says.

“It’s a hunters cabin, probably hunters”, another voice answers.

“Shouldn’t we check? Y/N could hide in there anyway.”

You freeze upon hearing your name. Quickly, you get out of bed and sneak towards the window. Carefully, you look outside to get a glimpse of how many people have surrounded you. There’s five. From what you can see, Jerry isn’t with them. You decide to wait for a while before moving. Maybe they’ll leave. Maybe you’ll be okay.

“No, I think we should check it”, a new voice says. “I don’t trust that little shit one bit.”

Jerry!

You stumble backwards and look around for somewhere to hide. You crawl into a shelf under the counter and manage to close the little door just in time. You can hear Jerry’s shoes hitting the wooden floor as she walks around in the little house. Your heart is pounding in your chest, it’s almost as if you’re dizzy. And then … the footsteps stop. The front door shuts. You know that you can’t stay here. The hunters will expose you and you will put their lives at risk.

Right then, the door swings open. You’re about to scream when you see the same hunter who carried you yesterday. He’s bloody and the look in his eyes scream of horror.

“W-What happened?!” you gasp and hurry over.

“There were people shooting at us!” he moans and waves at her to come closer. “I’ll take you on my back. I’m scared they’ll find you too if you stay here. There are only the two of us left.”

Too shocked to think, too scared to disobey, you climb up on the old mans back. He runs out the house and you hang onto for dear life.

"Oh, you fucker!" you hear Jerry shout behind you. "I fucking knew it!"

They were still there? If you'd have known you wouldn't have left the cabin. Too late to turn back.

“Please hurry!” you plead the man. “Run faster, please! Oh, please!”

Jerry stops abruptly.

"What's the matter?" one of the men says in confusion. "Aren't you going to chase after? Are you going to let them go?"

"I'm not making a fool out of myself", Jerry replies shortly and picks up a gun from her pocket. "I'm not in the mood for a game of 'Cat & Mouse'."

"Are you going to kill Y/N?" another asks, horrified. "I thought you liked them!"

"I'm not going to kill Y/N", Jerry replies and directs the gun towards you, closing one eye to get a better view. "I'm going to kill that old man and take out my little shit my way."

She hits the man in the leg. He falls over and you drop before rolling over the roots in the ground. The air gets knocked out of your lungs. You hit your head and dark spots starts swirling around your vision. You lay on your back, trying to regain consciousness. Quickly, you grasp the situation. You have to get up, you have to run. If you run … you might actually have a chance of getting away. It’s better than to give up.

You get up from the ground, out into the crossfire. Jerry scoffs with a wicked smile. You’re tougher than she thought. She keeps her eye locked on you, gun directed towards your feet. One bullet should be enough to get you to stop. She pulls the trigger and watches how you fall over with a painful scream. Satisfied, she puts her gun back in her pocket and starts to walk over to you. You're trying to crawl by dragging your arms forward. Jerry snickers at the sight. She walks over and grabs a fistful of your hair, lifting your chin up from the ground.

"Don't try to crawl now, little mouse", she smirks. "I've got you in my trap. Look at the man beside you. Look at him. Do you fell happy that you put his life on the line?"

One of her men shoots the man to death while she forces you to watch. Jerry pulls your head back even more. You glare at her with tears in your eyes.

“Leave me alone!” you scream at her and moan in pain.

Jerry glances down at your feet and hums. Your left foot is leaking red. She lets go of your hair and signals for two of her men to pick you up. They grab your arms, lifting you swiftly.

"You're not a very good partner, Y/N", she says jokingly and squeezes your cheeks with one hand. "Running around from me and hanging out with older men. Dear God. If you'd just have gone to bed like a good pet, neither of us would be here now."

You don't answer. If you do, you'll have to pay for it.

The men carry you to Jerry's black van and throw you in the back. Jerry jumps in and holds you in her arms as the van drives off. Your head rests in her lap. You can feel her nails digging into your body as she holds you still when the van bumps. Your head is spinning from the injury, you're not sure how much blood you've lost.

Jerry watches how your eyes flutter shut.

"Y/N?" she asks and shakes you when you don't respond. "Y/N!"

She looks down at your foot and hisses. Quickly, she removes her black zip-up hoodie and ties it tightly around your ankle where the bullet wound is. She holds your face in her hands, caressing it softly.

"Don't be so dramatic", she whispers. "It's just … i-it's just a bullet wound. In the foot, not anywhere brutal. You've survived worse."

She leans down and places a peck on your forehead. In the corner of her eyes, she can tell that one of the drivers is glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

"Keep your fucking eyes on the road before I pluck them put with tweezers", she spits. "You have no business looking at what I'm doing here."

She can feel her cheeks burning as she looks back at you. If those men ever talk about this she's going to decapitate them with a butter knife.

She takes out the bullet herself once you return to the base. Two men lie you down on a table and Jerry gets to work. You’re still unconscious, which she thinks is only for the best. You’ll not have to witness the bloody scene that unfolds … or feel it, for that matter. Jerry works fast to remove the bullet and cover your ankle and foot in clean, white bandage.

"Carry them to the bedroom", she orders one of the men.

A man picks you up in his arms and carries you through the corridors to the same room you escaped from just a day earlier. Jerry places you straight on your back with your foot on a pillow. She tucks you in, making sure that all limbs are covered by blankets.

“Do you want to stay here?” the man asks. “I can tell the boss that you’re in need of solitude.”

“If you say that, you’ll make me sound like a fair maiden”, Jerry mutters. “Don’t tell him that. Tell him I need to punish my filthy, little runaway.”

“Whatever you want, Jerry.”

With that said, he leaves. Jerry sits down on the side of your bed and takes one of your hands in hers. She examines your knuckles, silently wanting them on her. Your touch is the only thing that can tame her. Without you, she’s wild. Carefully, she lifts your hand to her lips, kissing it.

“Jerry?” your voice says quietly.

“Hm?” she asks and lowers your hand.

“W-What … what did you do to me? Did … d-did you shoot me?! It hurts …”

Your eyes are full of tears. Jerry frowns, squeezing your hands tighter.

“I had to”, she answers. “You disobeyed me. You ran away from me. I had to make sure you wouldn’t do it again. You belong to me. I fucking need you.”

“But did you have to shoot me?” you whimper.

“Your little legs have a life of their own and they don’t care about your well being. If I’d let your legs keep running, you’d be dead. Now, you need to keep your leg straight, don’t sleep on your side or your stomach. You should stay in bed for a while with your foot on this pillow.” She smiles slightly, thinking. “As long as you’re bedridden I can keep an easy eye on you.”

You grimace. “I hate you and everything you do to me.”

Jerry chuckles. “You and your foul mouth, baby. I’m going to go get something for you to eat and when I come back, you better apologize. If you know what’s good for you.”

Jerry stands up and leaves, closing the door behind her. You sigh out annoyed. Jerry will be the death of you — figuratively and literally. You glance towards the (not locked) door. You can’t get in more trouble than you already am. Quickly, you get out of the bed and jump on one foot to the door. You only have time to open it and limp out into the corridor before Jerry’s back, holding a microwaved pan pizza on a plate in her hands. You expect her to frown, to make any type of angry face … but she smirks.

“Oh, you are so fucked, Y/N”, she says. “Get back in bed. Now. Before I shoot your other foot too.”

You gulp and glare before you turn around and limp back to the bed. Jerry closes the door behind her.

“Now, what do you say?” she says tauntingly. “Are you going to apologize for saying that you hate me … and for trying to run away a second time?”

“Not a chance.”

The sweet smell of melted cheese and pepperoni and the stinging pain of a bullet wound clashes. You haven’t eaten all day.

“Hating me won’t get you what you want”, Jerry reminds you.

“Even if I apologize, I won’t get what I want … you hurt me, you killed the men helping me … they were innocent”, you say quietly.

“You should be happy that I didn’t do more for what you did, Y/N. I give you everything I have, I do my best to give you the love I have … and it’s a fucked up type of love, I know, but at least I don’t pretend to be better than I am. You always know where you have me.”

You don’t answer. Jerry sighs heavily and lifts the pizza in her hand.

“Fine, don’t apologize then”, she says and holds the plate to you. “Take it. I’m not eating a cold pizza and it’s cooling down so … eat it.”

You take a bite and almost burn your tongue on the pizza slice and glance up at Jerry’s eyes. She doesn’t meet yours.

“Jerry … the pizza is burning hot”, you whisper, frowning.

“Well … now you’ve started eating it … just eat the rest”, she mutters and shrugs.

“O-Oh, I see … thank you, Jerry.”

“Mhm.” She stands up. “Sleep now. I’ll be back later to make sure you’re still here. If you’re not, I’ll raise Hell. Trust me.” She walks to the door and stops. “I’m only nice to you because you’re hurt. Don’t get used to it.”

With that said, she walks out and locks the door. And so, you’re back on square one, with less than you had before … and lives on your consciousness. You gulp. Oh, how you hate Jerry for what she’s done. And oh, how much you hate that she’s the only one that forgives and forgets the troubles you put yourself in — the only one who stays by your side no matter what.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere fics #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere stories #female yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x yn #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling

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linkemon · 2 months

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Beauty is only skin deep (yandere) Schoenheit Vil x Reader x LeBlanche Neige

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ɴᴇɪɢᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴠɪʟ. ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ? ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴡᴇʟʟ, ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴜsᴇᴡᴀʀᴅᴇɴ ᴏғ ʀᴀᴍsʜᴀᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴅᴏʀᴍɪᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ.

ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪs ʙᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴠɪʟ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇɪɢᴇ's ʟᴏᴏsᴇ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ғᴀɪʀʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ sɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ.

ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ:

ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs sᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀs ғᴏʀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 5.

ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛᴇxᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴅɪsᴛᴏʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴏғ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

ғʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴇɴɢʟɪsʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs. ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʙᴇsᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴛɪᴘs ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ.

— I'm wishing for the one I love to find me... — The singing voice sounded closer and closer.

[Reader] looked around among the green trees, trying to find its source. At first, she was very scared when Grim told her that he had heard something or someone strange in their dormitory. She assumed they were ghosts but when she asked them about it, they denied it. So, complaining about the scared cat, she went to check the situation. There was nothing good to say about their crumbling and overgrown bit of school but it was still their corner. If any of the students came here just like that, she had to talk to them. Crowley wouldn't do anything about it anyway, as long as she knew the lazy headmaster. At worst, she could try to report it to the housewarden responsible for this person.

The girl passed another sad-looking bush. And behind it she saw an intruder. He chose a place near a well that had not been used for a long time. Its newer version was located in the main courtyard of the school, so it was forgotten by everyone. The bricks were covered with moss that tried to keep them in check. The boy rested both elbows on the unstable wall and stared at his reflection in the water below. She had to admit he had a beautiful voice. She had never heard the song but the notes were pure and seemed to permeate her entire being. The feeling with which he sang was truly moving. But that didn't change the fact that his uniform was definitely different from the ones worn at Night Raven College. Instead of black, he wore white. What was someone out of high school doing here? A beret with a red ribbon rested askew on his head. Only when she got closer to him did she realize that there were birds sitting on the hat. She took a few more steps and suddenly, out of nowhere, the boy was surrounded by a circle of animals. All the squirrels, mice, hedgehogs and even frogs in the area came out of their hiding places and stared at her accusingly, trying to separate her from the singer.

[Reader] stepped back. The crack of a branch under her shoe startled everyone, including the teenager. He stopped mid-sentence and turned towards her. Unfortunately, he leaned against the well where the bricks were loose. The girl grabbed his hand before he could fall into the dark abyss. The boy swallowed loudly. She could see him slowly realizing what he had just avoided.

— Thank you very much... ummm... what's your name? — Embarrassed, he still held her hand.

— I guess I should ask who you are first. You don't go to our school. I am Housewarden of the Ramshackle Dorm and for obvious reasons no one should venture here.

Was [Reader] lying? Of course. No one issued any bans on staying in this part of the forest. That didn't mean the stranger would know about it. After the series of overblots and increasingly strange events that had occurred since she arrived at the magical school, she was fed up with trouble. She wanted him to just disappear and let her spend her afternoon doing something else. For example, buying the can of tuna promised to Grim.

— Really? I'm so sorry! — He grabbed both of her hands and closed them in his as a gesture of remorse. — I didn't know you weren't allowed in here! Director Ambrose didn't mention anything but I also admit that I was a little lost and...

If he was lying, he was really good at it. But for some reason it didn't seem like that to her. The brown eyes looked really sincere. There was a sparkle about them that she felt was missing from many NRC students.

— Who is Director Ambrose? — [Reader] asked, releasing her hands from his grip.

— Ah... he's the headmaster of the Royal Sword Academy. It's a twin school to yours. My name is Neige. Neige LeBlanche. — He smiled gently.

If such a school really existed, the girl had never heard of it before. She heard something about the Spelldrive tournament but she had other things on her mind at the time. Not that she'd ever needed it before. She learned many things about the world of Twisted Wonderland this way. By chance. Because to the people around her, many facts were so obvious that they couldn't even think of making her aware of them.

It seemed to her as if the boy was waiting for something. But she didn't know what for. So she decided to take pity on him and offer help.

— Well... I'll walk you to the exit — she said, moving forward.

On the way, Neige told her why he came to her school. It turned out that there was a festival every year that (as always) she had no idea about. He planned to appear as one of the participants, dancing and singing with his friends. The headmaster decided to take him with him to get used to the unknown place. Scratching the back of his neck, he admitted that he had never been very good at reading directions, which had landed him in the wrong place today.

— I think you sing really beautifully — the girl said, seeing the Ramshackle's gate in sight.

She had to admit that when she compared his voice to the singers she knew from home, none of them seemed to compare to him. He had kind of a charm to it.

— Did you hear that at the well?! — The embarrassed boy forced a smile. — It wasn't a big deal... although I'm glad you liked it! — he added quickly.

— You should take up music seriously. Do you play with your bandmates or something? — [Reader] asked.

— So you don't know anything? — His brow furrowed for a moment in surprise.

— About what?

So she had no idea he was a star. This was new to him. Usually everyone who met him knew who they were dealing with sooner or later.

— Neige! My dear, there you are!

[Reader] has never seen this man before. However, she could assume that he was the director of RSA. He was dressed in a long, dark blue robe. Again and again he stroked his snow-white beard and adjusted his glasses. Plus, he showed up with Crowley, which was definitely unusual.

— We have to go — the old man said, shooting a defiant look at the NRC director. — I'll see you at the festival. I wish you good luck! — he said not so sincerely.

— May the best win! — Crowley smiled maliciously.

All the ravens in the area began to squawk.

LeBlanche followed Ambrose but at one point he turned and ran back.

— I didn't ask for your name in the end! — He panted, resting his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

— [Reader] — the girl replied, casting a questioning glance at her headmaster.

The man shrugged and then walked away, leaving her without a word of explanation. She'll need to learn more from her first-year friends.

— See you at the festival! — With these words, Neige disappeared around the corner.

***

Vil looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was perfect. As always. It reflected the hours spent perfecting it. Healthy diet, training and sacrifices. Hours devoted to self-improvement. All this to become an actor that the crowds will love. And yet he won again. Neige LeBlanche. He got another role. Schoenheit was to remain a villain forever. He never managed to pass the casting for the main character. Maybe because good was never in his nature. Although in the case of his rival it was almost childish naivety, which honestly irritated him.

— Mira, Mira, who is the most popular actor of them all?

— Your search results are: Neige LeBlanche, Vil Schoenheit... — The boy threw the phone on the couch. He didn't need to hear any further results.

All for nothing. He overcame so many difficulties to get here and was still in second place. Even after that stupid overblot he survived. The dark, sticky tentacles of too much magic were still stuck deep inside him. Not physically but in the mind. In the end, the doe-eyed boy mattered more to everyone around him. Even for Rook, whom he trusted so much. He didn't manage to survive his Fairest One of All, or poison Neige, or even win that stupid competition.

The only person who was still by his side after all this was [Reader]. Ramshackle Housewarden didn't hesitate to run straight to meet him as his curse lingered in the air. And although it annoyed him at the time that she was on the opposite side, he was aware that she did it for him. She told him about it when it was all over. She was the only one who was really there. Perfectly imperfect girl. So out of character with his image. And yet he fell in love. He fit it somewhere in his busy life, full of fame and fans.

So why did this thought bother him? Did he really need to check this? He shook his head. He had nothing to fear. He knew they were made for each other. It wasn't a test or a game. It was proof. Confirmation of how connected they are to each other.

He thought of the Big Seven. The Fairest Queen also used her talents. Astrology, potions and alchemy. All this to become better. Why shouldn't he be like her? He should use his gift. Its fruit will be a beautiful gift. A certainty that they will keep with [Reader] as a couple forever.

He made some tea. Epel's family sent it. Their apple orchards had been popular since he advertised them on Magicam. He strained the grounds and poured the brew into a cup. Little. White. Pure as snow. With a gold pattern on the edges. Soft. It was easy to destroy if you weren't skilled enough.

He heard footsteps in the corridor and hesitated for a moment over the tray. Maybe doing it today wasn't a good idea after all.

— Sorry for being late. I bumped into someone on the way and stayed to chat. — [Reader] closed the door and sat down on the purple sofa.

— Ah yes? With whom? — Vil placed the sugar cubes on the silver tray.

The sugar, of course, was cane sugar. If they had to poison themselves from time to time, at least he'd do it with a slightly healthier version.

— With Neige — the girl replied after a short moment of silence. — We haven't seen each other since SDC.

The Song & Dance Championship. This unfortunate event was the moment when his life spiraled completely out of control.

His hand didn't shake as he sweetened the tea just the way she liked it. After all, he has been an actor for almost his entire life. Was he angry? NO. Perhaps rather disappointed that she was giving LeBlanche any attention at all.

— What were you talking about? — he asked.

— Mainly about you. He would really like to be your friend, Vil... I don't think he fully understands that you don't like him. Even after everything that happened between you two.

Friend. The word gave him a headache. For some reason this boy had made up his mind thinking that they could be anything more than enemies. Neige was as bright as the sun. Vil was like the moon. What he did best was reflecting its light. And no matter how many modeling sessions he undertook, how many articles he appeared in, how many fans he gained on Magicam, how many premieres he had, he was always the worse one. He hated him. So much so that he was ready to poison him a few months ago. He was glad he was stopped. Such a victory would not be worth little. One day he will overcome him in skill and achieve complete perfection. True beauty.

— I'm not going to be friends with him — Vil said firmly.

— I know. I won't push you to do it. I just wanted to tell you this because we'll probably be seeing more of him.

— Why? — He sat down across from her, setting the tray on the gold-plated table.

— Crowley agreed to a new student exchange program. Some people from RSA will come to us for a few weeks. Grim and I were given quite a thankless task. We are to accommodate them for this time. None of the other housewardens agreed to have them under their roof. I didn't really want to give in but keeping this demon cat costs money. And Neige asked on behalf of Headmaster Ambrose.

Vil touched the magical pen hidden in his pocket and touched the cup with his finger. Maybe it was a good day to do it after all. It wasn't jealousy. It was just confirmation of what he already knew. Fairest One of All . His unique spell that inflicts a curse under any condition. A dream from which only the kiss of true love can awaken. Wasn't it romantic?

His lover lifted the tea to her lips. She took a sip. The eyelids closed almost immediately. He saw surprise in her eyes. However, this expression was quickly replaced by a calm, sleepy face. He caught the porcelain before it could hit the floor.

He gently stroked her face with his thumb. She looked lovely taking a nap. But he had to wake her up. They didn't have all day.

— You'll still have plenty of time to sleep — he whispered.

With these words, he connected their lips. It was strange not to feel her kiss back like she had every time before. He moved away. He waited a few seconds but nothing changed. His heart started beating faster. He tried again. Still nothing.

He felt his thoughts speeding up. After all, he cast the curse correctly. He thought about every word. So why wasn't anything happening?

Heat rushed through his body as he helplessly tried to shake the sleeping girl. The truth dawned on him like a storm of applause piercing the silence after a performance on stage. His spell never lied. So there was only one explanation. They weren't a perfect couple. That's because Vil wasn't [Reader]'s true love...

***

Neige looked around the dormitory. It was obvious that the Headmaster was sparing his thaumarks when he came to Ramshackle. Old curtains, creaky floors and an unattractive surroundings. But that didn't change the fact that there was order here. Grim had already explained to him how hard work he had done (with a little help from the housewarden, not that he needed it, of course) to get the building up to date. And indeed, despite the old age, there was something cozy in colorful blankets, a plush sofa and an old TV.

It was nice here. At least in his opinion. The RSA students who came with him seemed to disagree. At least not everyone. One third-year tied a scarf around his head and began scrubbing the floor as soon as he arrived, complaining about bacteria. Several others, however, started arguing with the first people they met, saying that it was unfair for them to live in such conditions. He had known about the rivalry between the schools for a long time but he had a feeling that some people really exaggerated.

While Ramshackle itself wasn't that bad, it wasn't how he imagined his stay here would be. He hoped to study and spend time together. For a few quiet moments when he can enjoy his life as a student. He loved his fans and music was a big part of him but sometimes he needed a break. Meanwhile, when he arrived, he found a worried demon cat accompanied by worried ghosts. [Reader] slept for the third day in a row and couldn't wake up. Her worried friends, whom he knew from the festival, came to visit her. According to the headmaster, it wasn't a restorative nap but some kind of illness or curse. He was unable to say. The students from Heartslabyul discussed among themselves that Crowley was not making much effort to change the student's situation.

LeBlanche really liked [Reader]. It felt stupid to admit it but when they met, he wished at the well that he would find true love. He even threw the thaumark into the water. It disappeared into it with a soft splash. It's not entirely that the boy believed that his wish would come true. However, when the girl grabbed his hand, he felt that maybe fate was not just a fantasy he had read about in books. He sincerely hoped that he would get to know her better when he came as an exchange student. Their conversations rarely lasted long because he usually had to go back to school right away. He wanted to change that. However, he came across this unfortunate situation and now the only thing he could think about was how to help the bedridden person. Maybe he should join the protest Ace and Deuce were organizing. Her friends were very worried about her and said that they would not wait for the headmaster to graciously do anything.

Neige entered the room. Her condition still hasn't changed. She was breathing steadily. The sun streamed through the dusty window, illuminating her unnaturally pale face. There were students from Pomefiore in the room. He recognized Rook. The boy smiled warmly at him. After all, he was his first fan, which he found out during the festival. Epel, on the other hand, looked at him quite indifferently. He had to admit that his performance at SDC was truly great. The high voice he used was memorable. Vil, on the other hand, frowned when he saw Neige in the doorway. The boy put it down to being worried about his friend. It must have been really hard for him because he looked furious.

— Hi, everyone — he greeted them quietly, walking up to the bed.

— We were just leaving — Epel announced, pulling the vice housewarden behind him.

The blonde looked genuinely disconsolate that he had to leave. His friend was just the opposite. He must have had enough of sitting.

— How are you feeling, Vil? — the brunette asked, standing right next to him.

— How should I feel if my girlfriend has been lying here for three days? — The tone of his voice was as cold as ice. It pierced menacingly through the silence in the room.

— Girlfriend?

If there was one thing LeBlanche didn't expect, it was this. He had never heard that they were a couple before.

— We didn't flaunt our relationship.

Probably because of his career. In Schoenheit's industry, couples were viewed quite unfavorably. Single people were perceived better by fans. He knew something about it himself. Although in his case he had never had to choose before.

He looked at [Reader]. So he had been getting his hopes up all this time. He hoped that everything would be alright with her and that she and Vil would be happy again soon. And, although he felt a slight twinge somewhere near his heart, he decided to ignore it. His friend was a truly wonderful and hard-working man. No wonder she chose him.

He sat down on an old, worn-out stool, right next to the headboard.

— Ummm... hey, [Reader]. I don't really know what to say in situations like this. It's the first time I've encountered something like this — Neige laughed quietly. — I hope you feel better soon and...

— Don't you have anything else to do? — asked the blonde, giving him an angry look.

Vil was standing in a dark part of the room, away from the window. He crossed his arms over his chest. His high heels hit the old boards again and again.

That was not nice. Despite everything, the boy decided not to worry about his friend's words. He must have been nervous. It's natural in such a situation. He'll definitely get over it soon, so he had to be understanding.

— I'm leaving now — he nodded.

In fact, he didn't have much time to say anything. But he didn't want to upset Vil even more. He grabbed [Reader]'s hand. She was cold to the touch. He hoped she would be warm again soon. When she is healthy, they will talk as before. Even if only for a moment, he will be satisfied. He kissed her knuckles gently.

— Wake up quickly — he whispered.

He turned to leave the room. In his thoughts he prayed for the patient's quick recovery. Suddenly he heard a loud yawn. He couldn't believe his eyes. [Reader] was already awake. She rubbed her eyelids and looked around.

— Vil. — Her voice was quiet, but definitely not friendly. — She stared at her boyfriend, her fingers clenching the sheets.

She stood up, wobbling and Neige immediately ran over to help her stay upright. She was furious. He had never seen her like this before.

Loud laughter echoed throughout the dormitory. It was Vil. It started with a chuckle and then progressed to a mocking laugh.

— Him? — He pointed to the brunette. — Of all people it had to be him?

He pulled out his magical pen. A purple mist began to creep out from under his feet. Fairest One of All flowed across the floor, trying to fill the room.

— Everything's all right? We heard… — Rook almost got hit by a spell.

Magic flew right above his head.

Vil stared ahead. He was aware of what was happening. He was on the road to the overblot again. Dark goo filled the crystal in his pen. Faster and faster with every second. And yet he had no desire to stop it. What was the point?

They were standing right in front of him. [Reader] in front. How it suited her. She was the first one ready to rush towards danger, despite her lack of magic. It's been like that since she got here. He was impressed by it. She was like a legendary prince in shining armor. Neige stood behind her. With his naive kindness as a shield against everything life threw at him. How idiotic. Like a damsell in distress.

— Vil, let's talk...

Prince and princess. Perfect couple. He was never allowed to play the main character. He was always the villain. So where he stood was his place on the stage. On the opposite side.

— True love's kiss! — He heard himself, as if from a distance, laughing hysterically.

Of all the possible people, it had to be LeBlanche. The man he hated. He had everything he always wanted. And now he even had her. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be consumed by the approaching darkness.

If he couldn't become the hero, he would be the villain...

#vil shoenheit x reader #neige leblanche x reader #vil schoenheit #oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #epel felmier #rook hunt #neige leblanche #yandere #yandere au

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after-witch · 1 year

Text

Fresh Blood [Yandere L x Vampire!Reader]

Title: Fresh Blood [Yandere L x Vampire!Reader]

Synopsis: Vampires aren’t real. Everyone knows that. Except for L Lawliet, who knows the truth: vampires are very, very much real… and you’re one of them.

Word Count: 2400ish

Notes: yandere, mentions of death and non-graphic violence, reader is a vampire

You haven’t seen the sunrise in several lifetimes. And you would never see it again, unless you were eager to burst into flames and turn into nothing but crumbling, black dust.

It wasn’t true that vampires were weak against garlic (you didn’t mind it, on nights when you ate human food); or crosses (pretty things, especially in silver); or even gunshots (though they hurt like a bitch). But the sun, well--the sun was a surefire way to turn what was immortal into nothing at all.

So, the sunrise was out. So were all the little things that went with it; glistening dewdrops and deer making their way to the edge of the forest in the dappled light of the sunrise. The soft call of birds waking up the world. The quiet, hum of life beginning in the city, in the country, everywhere and anywhere.

But… you don’t regret this loss anymore. Once, when poked and prodded by someone else in your clan during one of their melancholy bouts, you’d quipped: “I’m just not a morning person--it’s fate!” and flashed your sweetest grin.

Your morning had been replaced by the night. Though, thanks to the advent of incredibly efficient blackout blinds and curtains, you could usually wake up a bit earlier and get a few things in before you headed out for the evening. For blood or clan meetings or--more common--both.

You love the routine that it creates, really. You wake up. You shower. You watch a little TV, if you’re in the mood. You might practice the piano or rearrange some books in your library. And then you get dressed--something modest, elegant; your closet was filled with classic pantsuits and expensive silver jewelry that shined in the evening light--and leave.

And in that evening, that black evening, who knows what you’ll do? Who you’ll meet or eat, what you’ll see.

And when the darkness begins to wane, you head home. You shower. You throw your clothes, if they’re bloody, into cold water to soak for the night. You change into pajamas. You go into your bedroom. You lock the door. You lock the windows. You sleep, dreamless, in the dark.

And then you wake up the next evening and start everything over again.

Someone has been inside your apartment. Someone has been inside your apartment.

Someone has been inside your apartment.

The thought repeats itself in your brain until it becomes a boiling, blurry scream that threatens to burst out of your chest. Your fingers clench into fists, and if you could bleed, it would be pouring out from the sharpness of your nails digging into your palm.

There is a hair in your sink. It’s not your hair. It’s black, somewhat long, curled up against the white porcelain like a baby. Something that anyone else might dismiss, shrug away, or miss entirely. But the sight of it is as obvious to you as a smear of red blood against the porcelain tile.

Your fingers reach out, trembling, and grasp the offending hair in your fingertips.

You stick your tongue to it, thinking--desperately, your enraged brain becoming somewhat delirious--you might be able to track the offender down by their taste. But it’s hair, disconnected from anything living, and all it does is make you peel it off and toss it into the trash in a fit.

Who would dare enter your domain? A vampire's home was their sanctuary. Invitations were everything. Especially to you, who guarded yourself so securely; you aimed to get to the top of society, and you didn’t do that by throwing open your home to anyone who waltzed nearby.

So who… the fuck… has been in your house?

You’re a vampire.

The revelation is not something that L cares to share with anyone else, although he will eventually have to tell Watari about it in order to pull through with the logistics of his plans. The information is, strictly speaking, need-to-know. And who else would believe him?

But the pathways this knowledge opened up were surely something he could appreciate. Vampires were real. So what else was real? What else, dismissed as a ridiculous myth borne out of horror stories, might really be lurking in the dark?

It was a double pleasure, that his interest in you led to this discovery--and surely many more in the future.

He saw you walking past his favorite cafe one evening. You looked attractive, which wasn’t an immediate draw for him. Plenty of people were pretty. But something about you made you stand out like an oil painting amidst crude pencil drawings. It was like you glowed.

And he did enjoy things that stood out from the crowd.

He can still remember the early days, staking out (he pardons his own pun) your apartment, jotting down every little detail about you. Your schedule was strange. No stranger than his, he supposed at the time, but certainly unusual for some random civilian.

You never went outside until it was dark. You didn’t seem to sleep, or at least not in your bedroom. You didn’t eat. Yet you never looked tired or sick.

Your home had blackout film and blackout blinds and blackout curtains and, to top it off, blackout screens that could be pulled over each window. Your fridge never had food, only bags and bottles of the same red liquid, too thick to be a fruit smoothie.

And curious, curious, curious… there was not a single mirror in your home. Not one in the bathroom. Not one in the hallway, or your bedroom, or stuck behind the closet of your wardrobe.

Why the strangeness? What were you hiding? What made you different?

It made him need to know more about you.

And more.

And now… he knows things that humans were never meant to know. At least, humans who weren’t about to become blood bags for creatures like you.

He knows every step in your routine, every detail about your home life and public life and as much as he’s been able to sketch out in between. He knows what songs you play on the piano, how many blood bags you have in your fridge, what songs you hum under your breath while you get ready to leave your home and drain someone of their blood for your dinner.

He knows that you’re hundreds, if not thousands of years old, and that you subsist on the blood of people whom you kill and drain night upon night.

The cameras helped with all that. They’d been there for longer than he anticipated, given your observant nature. Maybe you were cocky. That would help, certainly, with his plans.

He saw you find his hair in the sink (he planted it, naturally) and smiled as he watched you through your little tantrum. What would you do, if--when, he corrects himself, you’re too smart not to find them--you noticed the cameras?

What will you do when you notice the other things he has touched? He’s left himself all over your apartment, bit by bit, waiting with a gnawed-on thumb to see what you do.

Oh you, you, you.

He couldn’t tell if you were unlucky that he decided he needed you, or if he was unlucky that the one person he became invested in wasn’t actually a human being. Maybe a bit of both. It certainly made it trickier to figure out how to approach the problem of your continued freedom.

You were slippery.

L didn’t like it when things he wanted were slippery.

You’re going to kill someone.

Who that someone is has yet to be determined. But you will determine it, and you will find them, and end their life--a pathetic, measly thing, no doubt--in the most viscous way possible.

No amount of blood, no amount of meditation, will ease your broiling anger.

The hair on the sink came first.

And then, little things. A picture frame, tilted just-so in the opposite direction. A rug shifted an inch to the left.

And now… now this absolutely infuriating middle-finger-to-you. An unmistakable gesture that could not be ignored or brushed off or brooded over.

This demanded action.

There was a mirror at the end of the hallway. The glass glistened dully, reflecting nothing, even as you stood right in front of it. You’d made it as far as the hallway after coming home from your evening feeding, intent on grabbing the comfiest robe from your bedroom before you hit the shower.

And then you saw the mirror.

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about to bash your hand against the glass to smash it into a thousand pieces, when something shifts in your field of vision.

There’s someone in the mirror. Behind you, next to you, or rather, next to where your reflection would be if you had one.

It’s a man with dark eyes and messy hair and a calm, but undeniably pleased expression on his face. Your brain flashes a thought--like a cat licking up cream--before you whirl around, breath cold with rage, and launch yourself at his face with your sharpened nails ready to gouge out an eye.

But you don’t get to gouge out an eye. You don’t get to do anything. Because as soon as you whirl around, he pulls something--a rope?--and morning sunlight bursts into your living room. You jerk back, keeping yourself in the protection of the darkened hallway.

“Who the fuck are you?” You spit.

The man drops the rope and sticks his fingers in his pockets. He smiles at you. A calm, sweet expression that he should not be wearing at this moment. Yet he is, somehow. It makes you want to sew his lips shut with a needle and thread. It makes you want to pull out his teeth. It makes you want to keep him alive for weeks as you drain him again and again.

“There will be time for introductions later,” he says, almost murmuring. “Right now, you’re clearly in a state of agitation, and not likely to remember personal details, anyway.” His gaze seems to appraise you. “You do have a temper, don’t you?” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m surprised, given what I saw on the cameras.”

Your cold chest seems to grow icier still.

“The what?”

He gestures languidly around. “I’ve set up quite a few. I thought you’d notice. But you were too busy with your clandestine meetings, I suppose.” He suddenly claps his hands and raises his eyebrows in an odd, reassuring gesture. “Don’t worry, I didn’t put one in your bathroom, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You wish, for once, that your non-living breath might be hot instead of cold. It might better reflect your mood.

Your eyes dart around the room and now, now, you finally see the microscopic cameras installed around the space. In the corner of the ceiling. On a figurine in your bookshelf. No doubt the other rooms would yield similar findings.

You would rip them out one by one, and then rip out his spleen. Or maybe an eye. Whatever hurt worse and kept him along the longest.

You stare at this man, whose hair was in your sink, whose fingers touched your belongings, whose feet crossed your threshold--until you’re sure that your gaze would kill, if you had that power.

“I’m going to kill you,” you say, finally. You bare your fangs. You think, stupidly, of simply launching yourself at him and hoping you’re fast enough to grab him and pull him back into the darkened hallway before the sunlight kills you.

Rage makes you stupid, but only for a moment. You keep your legs still on the carpet, eyeing him with utter contempt.

He watches you. He hums.

“You might try.”

Your eyes glance around the room, behind you in the hallway, looking for the best second option. Your bedroom? If you can get in there, you can get to your phone. A quick call to another member of your clan, and they’ll be here. And then you can take your time killing him, slow and methodical.

“Ah,” he says, as if he can sense your train of thought. “I wouldn’t recommend going into the bedroom. Or the bathroom. Or any of the rooms, really.” He gestures towards the bottom of your bedroom door, and you turn to look.

Sunlight can be seen peeking through the edge.

“I took the liberty of uninstalling everything on the other windows, too. You’re quite thorough, but so am I.”

You bare your teeth at him again.

“Are you going to kill me?” It’s a challenge, all puffed up, perhaps your last words before he pulls out a stake or something else he’d concocted to end your immortal existence.

He stares at you, eyebrows raised.

“Kill you?” The question is said in such a soft, incredulous tone, as if what you asked was simply absurd.

Was he not a vampire hunter? Though most humans thought vampires were myths, there were a few now and then who figured it out and tried to hunt your kind down.

This man was apparently not one of those few.

He pulls something out of his pocket. It looks like a gun,

“It will be easier to keep you here for now, once I get a proper containment room set up for you.” He gestures at the blackout set-up that he dismantled. “Don’t worry, it will be blacked out.” He sticks his hands back in his pockets. “You’ve done some of my work for me already, with your isolated schedule, so it will be a while before anyone notices something’s amiss. I do need to get you transported sooner than later, especially if…”

You listen, mute with rage and something else, as he drones on; detailing how he is going to keep you and subdue you and transfer you somewhere else--nice and dark, he assures you. As he speaks, there’s an increasing unfamiliar sensation that squirms under your skin like worms. Not anger. Not confusion. But…

Fear.

As he raises the gun and you see--too late--that the end is marked with some kind of tranquilizer, the thought comes:

Is this what it’s like to be the prey?

#yandere l lawliet #yandere death note #yandere #afterwitch writes

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demonichikikomori · 2 months

Note

Yan Rook sneaking in the shower to fuck the prefect cause he saw her taking off her clothes from the window?

Predator

REQUEST

Yan!Rook Hunt x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.2k+ Tags: NonCon/Shower Sex/Blood

Art by enpitsu0208 on Deviantart!

Holy smokes babe. This is pretty based of you. Delicious Yan!Rook? On my Tumblr? Yeah, I sure hope so. I actually think even in canon, Rook would have yandere tendencies. I will never forget the first time I saw his dorm room. Ever. Also, I got two of these, and I'm guessing it was you who sent both!! So, I'm using this one since it was the first one I got. I hope you enjoy it!~!

SUMMARY:

You weren’t sure why, but ever since you started living in Ramshackle… You felt like you were being watched. Only at night. You asked Grim about it, he assumed you were being a scaredy-cat since the dorm was just super old. The ghosts would tell you that maybe it was just your imagination. And maybe it was. As you undressed for a quiet night alone, you stepped into the shower to wash your stress away.

“Grim.. I dunno… I just feel like something is wrong today.” You sighed and lifted the window, sticking your head out to peer into the pitch black forest. “It’s because we have our alchemy exam tomorrow. That’s what’s makin’ you all paranoid.” Grim attempted to comfort you with his little gray paws petting at your leg as you continued to stare out into the woods. It was late, the moon was peeking out over the trees as you stood in your bedroom. As your fingers tightened around the windowsill, your stomach began to sink. You felt like something- no. Someone was staring back at you.

This was something you’ve felt before. Ever since you had started staying in Ramshackle. And for the last four months the anxious feeling had only intensified. You had confided in the ghosts who offered to scout the property, but they hadn’t seen anything worth reporting. They told you it must be nerves from staying in the environment. You pulled away from the window and pushed it shut with a small sigh. Your heart was pounding against your ribs, the anxiety left your hands shaking. “I think you’re right Grim… I’m… I’m gonna take a shower.” You murmured as the monster pulled away from your leg with a fanged smirk. “That’s the spirit! Ain’t nothin’ to be worried about!” His tail swished as you drew the curtains shut and crouched to rub Grim’s head lovingly. You appreciated his attempt to comfort you, after all, Grim was the only friend you really had.

Grim curled up under the blankets with a yawn, heading to bed early while you got ready to shower. You made your way to the bathroom to wash away your worries with your towel and pajamas draped over your arm. That feeling was just stress knowing you had an exam tomorrow. No one was stalking you in the forest. That was silly. It had to be an animal. A rabbit species only existing in Twisted Wonderland. Yeah, that was it.

The sound of rushing water was comforting in comparison to the terrifying silence from before. You undressed slowly, occasionally glancing out of the bathroom window with a friend. The feeling of being watched returned. It sent a freezing chill down your spine as you removed your shirt, sheepishly turning your back to face the window. You didn’t have a curtain up since the window faced the lush trees and foliage. The only peeping toms out there were birds and bugs. And yet, you had a looming feeling that something was off.

Like Grim said, it could just be nerves making you paranoid. You hesitated before grabbing the hem of your bottoms and slipping them down your thighs. With a careful bend of your body, you tossed them aside with a sigh. The feeling of being watched was gone again. You looked around the bathroom, neatly folding your pajamas on the edge of the sink and leaving them as the steam from the water fogged the bathroom mirror. You just needed to wash away your worries. That’s all.

You nudged aside the flimsy curtain, frosted in white film to hide you from those who may enter. Such as Grim when he needed something from you and managed to open the door with magical assistance. The warm water pelted your skin like delicate pats hoping to massage your fears away. You reached for your shampoo first with your once racing thoughts melting away. Sudsing up your hair as you thought about your exam tomorrow. You really didn’t have anything to worry about. You were passing the class with flying colors, it was Grim who was struggling. But, you usually would help him with tests anyway since the two of you made one student. You smiled to yourself as you rinsed your hair clear of soap and reached for your conditioner. If anything, you could always ask Ace and Deuce for help before classes started. They weren’t exactly smarter than you, but you were friends. If they got some of the same answers you did then you knew you were solid for the exam.

“Maybe I am just being paranoid… It’s just the woods… It’s nothing.” You mumbled to yourself while scrubbing the conditioner into your hair and proceeding to wash it away after. Living in a new environment can be scary for many people. You weren’t immune to natural fears like monsters in the closet or ghosts wandering the halls. Your eyes widened and you felt your face start to burn.

Malleus usually would take late night walks around Ramshackle. Maybe that was him watching you? Your arms wrapped tightly around your wet body as a form of comfort. No way… Malleus wouldn’t spy on you like that. Usually he would make his presence known by standing by the gate, politely requesting that you join him for a walk. He wouldn’t ever hide in the forest like that. Would he? The sound of the door opening caused you to lift your head and snapped you away from your thoughts. “Grim? Ugh- I told you to knock before you enter. Or at least say something.” You groaned in annoyance and allowed your arms to fall to the side.

However, the steps towards the tub sounded much heavier than Grim’s. Like heavy boots. The lack of response sent an electric current of fear down your spine as you began to shrink towards the back of the tub. Your back now pressed against the white tile as you nervously covered your chest with your hands. “… Grim?” You called out weakly for the beast. But you knew it wasn’t him on the other side of the curtain.

A shadow loomed on the other side of the frosted white curtain. Your throat constricted, holding back a shriek as the person on the other side began to noisily undress. No. No, no, no. Your bottom lip trembled and you mustered up a scream, calling out for Grim or for the ghosts to come and rescue you. Your eyes were wide in terror as you stared at the man who had shoved aside your thin shower curtain. A knife was now pointed at you as the assailant wore a sweet smile. “Non, non! There is no need to shout.” It was Rook Hunt. “I apologize, mon Trickster. I wasn’t happy with admiring from afar anymore. Seeing you so frightened… It wounded my heart!” He shook his head, his usual blond bob was pulled back into a short ponytail. He was shirtless, his top discarded to the floor as he continued to undress using a single hand. The knife remained pointed at your own bare body.

“You… You were watching me?” You whimpered fearfully and he chuckled with a wide smile. “Oui!~!” Rook kicked off his heavy, tan boots and slipped off his socks by only using his feet. “I have been watching you since we met. Seeing you every night was my personal ritual before I could seek peaceful rest at night.” He explained kindly as his pants had started to slip down his muscular thighs. “Seeing your pretty expressions you haven’t shown anyone else... Watching you undress and shower, seeing the way you would pleasure yourself late at night…” He trailed off with a soft shade of red painting his cheeks. His tongue swiped over his upper lip as he moved closer to the tub. The look in his murky green eyes left you shaking with fear as you cowered in front of him. You looked past Rook and towards the door with tears pricking your eyes. Why wasn’t Grim coming? Where are the ghosts? Didn’t they hear you scream?

“Th… That’s very nice Rook… I’m flattered.” You croaked with a trembling smile, struggling to fight the urge to cry. Your eyes darted back to the long hunting blade only centimeters away from your jugular. Each swallow would cause the tip of the blade to tickle your skin. In the most unpleasant way possible. “B-But there’s no need to join me! I was actually just getting out!” You flashed an anxious smile, seeing the blond man start to pout. It was terrifying. “Why, there is no reason to be embarrassed.” He sighed with a shake of his head, sliding a finger into his boxer briefs and inching them down his hips. “You have not yet washed your body. I only wish to observe you up close. You usually use oatmeal soap, with honey extract for your skin. It’s a wonderful choice! Roi du Poison would approve.” This conversation was abnormal.

Rook Hunt has broken into the one place you could call home, and is now holding you at knife point. He was undressing, and planning to step into the shower with you. This isn’t right. “Th-Thank you Rook. But… I think I want to get out of the shower.” Your voice was meek as his dark colored briefs were kicked aside, and he pulled off his hat, leaving it on the edge of the sink. Neatly placed on top of your pajamas.

“You may, after I’ve showered as well.” He cooed and stepped into the ceramic tub. You were trembling now, the sound of your heart beat violently against your eardrums as he kept the knife pointed at you, and pulled the curtain shut. His green eyes scanned over your naked body as you used your hands to cover your most delicate places. It was humiliating to have Rook stare at you like this. The rushing water bounced against his once dry skin as he reached back, and grabbed your soap for you. “I would like to watch you bathe. Do not let me distract you.” He beamed as your shaky hands grabbed the bottle of soap.

If you had an opening, you could hit Rook with it and run. But with the knife so close to you, you couldn’t risk it. “Where’s Grim?” You asked fearfully as the blond chuckled at your question. “Monsieur Hirsute is sleeping heavily. He won’t be waking up for a while.” Rook assured you as you awkwardly fumbled with the cap to the soap. That would imply that Grim was dead. Or hopefully just drugged to remain asleep for a few hours. “The ghosts didn’t see you?” You asked as the hunter tilted his head. “They are gone for tonight.” You felt a stone sink in your stomach when you realized you were truly on your own for this. No one would be coming to save you.

You swallowed down a sob as you poured some of the tan colored soap into your palm. Your arms were shaking and you felt like time had started to slow to a stop. You felt sick. “Why don’t I assist you?” Rook offered and you vigorously shook your head in refusal. But it was clear the blond wasn’t going to take your no for an answer. He placed his knife in your metal shower caddy, and took the soap from you. He poured it in his palms with a smile before returning the bottle to its original place. “N-No. Don’t touch me.” You snapped weakly, before Rook roughly grabbed you by the wrist and held you against his wet body. Soapy hands rubbed gingerly over your body as you squirmed in his touch with your eyes now squeezed shut. The glide over your breasts and subtle pinch of your nipples. How he soaped up your arms down to your waist and hips. You clenched your jaw tightly, attempting to get away as a hand slipped between your thighs. “Ohh, my dear Trickster. You need to be cleaned. You mustn't struggle.” He cooed as if he was trying to subdue an animal afraid of the soap and water.

It was laughable.

“Let me go Rook please. I’m sorry- I really am. I don’t know what I did-” He shushed you from above as his soapy fingers began to stimulate your clit. Pulling back the sensitive hood as you shook in his hold. You wanted to scream for help. You wanted to suddenly possess intense strength to fight Rook off of you. “This place needs to be cleaned.” Rook's voice dropped to a whisper as he rubbed delicate circles with his calloused fingers against your clit. The stimulation made your pussy flutter, betraying your feelings of disdain towards Rook. If you let him do this, he would be satisfied and leave. Right? You tried to force yourself to relax. Leaning against his muscular body as he stroked and touched your pussy.

Your face burned in embarrassment as he chuckled again. “This is how you like being touched. Oui?” He asked and you gave a short nod. Rook had been watching you touch yourself, so naturally he knew how you liked it. “I haven’t seen you with anyone else in an intimate way other than yourself. Are you nervous mon Trickster?” The question pushed tears into pricking your eyes. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were relieved to see the horrible world around you had been blurred. But the relief was short lived as Rook slipped a finger into your tight gummy walls. Slowly pushing deep inside of you as your body tried to force him out. You tensed up and gave another short nod. Nervous could not describe the terror you felt. “Please let me go.” You wailed softly as tears rolled down your face. Hidden by the shower water bouncing off of Rook's pale skin and onto you.

He did not respond. Instead, he pumped his finger slowly, crooking it into a sensitive spot inside of you that made you yelp and your knees buckle. When you leaned against Rook for support, you looked down to see his erect cock. Flushed at the tip, long and thick. Twitching with excitement only centimeters away from your hip. It hung heavy between his muscular thighs as your stomach dropped in fear. A scream started to bubble up in your throat as you started squirming again. “Let go of me!” You raised your voice, smacking and punching at Rook’s chest in terror. But the man was unphased. He only frowned with a soft tut of disappointment that you were resisting so much.

The ground beneath you suddenly vanished when his finger was pulled from pleasuring your pussy. You thrashed until your back was pressed firmly against the wet shower tile and you were folded in half with Rook pinning you from the front. His strong arms locked you into the position, keeping you folded with his elbows under your knees. You wanted to scream. You wanted the ghosts to come back and save you. You wanted Grim to poke his head into the bathroom, even though you told him a million times not to without announcing himself. “Rook no… Please- I won’t tell anyone…” You sobbed against his shoulder. Your face was hot at the feeling of your hole flexing, begging for him to push inside. It was just a bodily reaction. You didn’t want this. You don’t want him to do this to you.

Rook hummed from above you, the wet, sticky tip of his cock nudged against your entrance as he adjusted himself against you. “Mon Trickster, je suis désolé. I did want to be intimate much longer but…” He trailed off, slowly rocking his hips against your soaking hole. “When you struggle, it turns me on.” The darkness in his voice made you whimper as he began to push inside of you. Stretching you with his thick cock as you punched and shoved at his slippery shoulders. You felt like you were being torn in half. The dull pain made your toes curl and you shook and squirmed. It only got Rook to slide deeper inside of you. “You can take all of me. I know you can.” The blond cooed with a small stutter of shallow thrusts, before his strong hips snapped against you. He was balls deep. Twitching and throbbing inside of you as the two of you remained still and connected in the most vulnerable way.

It made you sick. You sobbed against his shoulder, giving up and falling limp as Rook’s cock stirred inside of you. Deep inside of your womb, the illusion of being buried within your sensitive intestines where your body would mold itself to the shape of his thick shaft. You hated the feeling. Even if your nipples were hard and sensitive, brushing against his as he pressed his body firmly against yours and began to roughly pound into you. Stimulating your body in more ways than one. His fluffy blond pubes scratching your twitching clit with each wet smack, and the way he forced your body to fold in half for him to penetrate you deeper and deeper. You hated your body for accepting him and the things he did. You hated Rook for doing this to you. A strangled wail left your throat when his cock began to pound into your cervix. His mushroom shaped tip jamming against the bundle of nerves made your stomach ache with pain as you struggled against him. Unable to move as you begged him to stop. He only laughed at your cries of pain. Deeper. Harder. Rougher. His grip on your body was painful and the way his hips smacked into yours you thought you would get bruises. Your pussy clenched around his cock from the pain, making him groan in pleasure as he mumbled into your ear sweet nothings in a language you didn’t understand.

He pulled away from your ear and forced his lips against yours. The disgusting feeling of his tongue rubbing against yours made you cringe as you snapped your teeth together. The taste of iron flooded your mouth as Rook pulled away, pounding harshly into your body with a teeth filled smile. His once pearly whites were coated in a sheet of blood that dripped down his lips and chin and onto your body. His cheeks were even redder from pleasure. He liked it. He liked that you bit him out of defiance. He said nothing as his hips slowed and he adjusted you on his cock. You sobbed again as he forced his hips against you, reaching even deeper somehow as your body shook from pain. You wished he would cum already, or at least you would faint first. He continued to babble with excitement, his tongue continued to bleed as he stared down at you with a crazed expression. The violent twitch and throb of his cock made you feel ill as you knew what was going to happen next. “Je t’aime… Ohhhh I love you mon Trickster…” He whined as his thrusts became sloppy, and finally stuttered to a stop deep inside of your twitching walls. Your nails dug into his flesh as he left you pushed against the wet tile with his muscular body. You winced with each throb of his cock deep inside of you. You could feel Rook’s thick load of sperm began to seep out of your abused hole with hot, messy, pearlescent strings. It disgusted you. A weak sob trickled from your throat and you shook your head sadly against him. “Beauté, mon Trickster!~!” Rook huffed happily against your ear. His grip was like iron as you continued to fall limp against him. “The night is still young. I still haven’t had my fill of you.” The sound of his voice made your stomach churn as tears rolled down your face. You decided it would be best to succumb to your fate as Rook Hunt’s prized prey.

Tagged Accounts: @candlewitch-cryptic @yandere-kou @the-monday-witch @bontensbabygirl

#demonic. requests #devils. eat. doves #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook x reader #rook hunt #twst rook #rook x reader #rook hunt x mc #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt x reader #dead dove fic #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #tw noncon #tw blood and injury #tw yandere #rook hunt smut #rook hunt x reader smut

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sunny-speaks · 11 months

Text

Alan x Reader (My Dear Hatchet Man)

So I don’t know much about Hatchet Man lmaooo- He’s more mildly possessive but not a full blown yandere or creep or stalker-- so I'm adding a couple of personal touches!

But seriously, we don't get much Yandere! Alan content in the demo so far aside from him being a lil posessive. Or at least what I've seen so far, I could be wrong--

Wants nothing more for him and his doe-eyes to just avoid society and live together for the rest of their life

Is way too committed for a relationship despite meeting you yesterday ‘for the first time.’

Maybe you don’t remember him, maybe you do… But see, you made eye contact and smiled at him a year ago! So that had to mean something to you!

Even if you were just working at a convenience store for quick cash, you wouldn’t just smile at anyone !

(He made sure you didn’t.)

Studied every habit of yours down to the narrowest of details, just so he could act and pretend think like you were right there with him at all times of the day.

He's so observant for you, isn't he?

He wouldn’t venture out far from the forest, but on special occasions, he would stumble upon you sitting on a bench, feeding bread crumbs to birds.

Ohhh, that’s his pretty doe-eyes for ya, hmm? So kind, so generous, so… breathtaking.

Gosh, all his tech is so outdated. When he saw you taking photos of yourself on that fancy rectangle you call a ‘phone,’ he almost regretted becoming a hermit. Simply thinking about the quality photos he could get of you from your style of ‘phone?’ Sent shivers down his spine.

But he supposed he’d have to settle for an older method. Black-and-white camera out, film loaded and ready to take as many photos of his precious darling as possible.

During the day, inconspicuously guarded by the thick lines of trees and maybe at night, if you left your window open. He could scale the walls and crawl in or get a vantage point from a tree.

You were so innocent, his doe-eyes. He had to take such good care of ya, huh? Forgetting to lock your windows sometimes, leaving the curtains open, awh… You must’ve forgotten how creepy the rest of the world is. Don’t worry, Alan’s here to protect you…!

And if he took a couple photos of you sleeping, that’s no one else’s business but his own.

He couldn't wait for the day where he'd be able to be beside you while you were awake too..

So, won’t you be a dear and notice how much he loves you…?

#my dear hatchet man #🧨headcanons #mdhm #mdhm alan #alan orion #alan x reader #mdhm alan x reader #yandere x reader

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honeymelonpm · 2 years

Note

a small request, yandere Anakin with a reader from earth. like, he crashes here one day and finds reader when he's trying to fix his ship & goes after her to take her away with him maybe, maybe he thought reader was an angel like he thought padme was 🥺❤️

~Angel~

Characters: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Warnings: Yandere

Summary: Anakin stumbles upon a creature he's never seen before after crash landing on Earth.

Requested by this lovely anon!

Note: Words cannot describe how sorry I am that this took so long! 🤍

You had heard the piercing whistle resound through the still night air as ribbons of fierce yellow and orange danced in the dark sky, before a deafening boom shook the ground beneath you. The sky was painted ebony, consuming any wave of light into the night, keeping the crash site hidden from your curious eyes. So instead of investigating an impossible mystery, you fell back asleep in the middle of your overly large mattress, your bare legs tangled amongst the blankets.

Cupping some water in your palms, you splashed the icy water against your face, washing away any thoughts of the previous night. Goosebumps arose all over your naked body as you bathed in the river. You loved nothing more than starting your mornings like this, soaking up the warmth of the sun and awakening yourself in the cold stream.

Relaxing against the stones beneath you, you listened to all you could hear, the steady flow of water running past, birds singing their calls amongst the trees, a distant song of electrical beeps and whistles?

Peering through the surrounding trees, you searched for any sign of company. A few twig snaps followed by a series of beeps and whirrs was enough to have you call an early end to your morning routine.

Pulling yourself up and out of the river stream, you stole the white gown that dangled from a nearby branch and pulled it over your head, letting the thin linen fall over you, soaking up small amounts of water from your skin.

"Artoo?" A deep, smooth voice resonated around you, followed by a strain of whistles.

A metallic gleam of silver danced through the trees, blinding you, before it revealed itself in front of you. A mechanical being meeting the height of your waist, it's top half rotating back and forth as it flashed a circle of blue and red light. You hadn't seen anything like it. Sure you were no stranger to robot vacuums and whatnot, but what stood before you was different in its entirety.

Head spinning, it whirred again before gliding towards you, stumbling back as it did so.

"Go away!" You choked, your bare feet retreating along the rough bark littered on the forest floor.

Despite the droid pausing in place, you continued to stagger backwards, the curve of your back bumping against a large build.

Spinning around, you came face to face with a man before you. His broad chest smothered in layers of black fabric, long chestnut hair curled around his face.

His face was blank, eyes reading you before a mischievous grin appeared.

"And what must you be?" He whispered to himself, eyes searching yours.

"E-excuse me?" You scoffed, taking a step back.

A glimmer of light twinkled in his eye at your response, "You speak my language."

Your hands clutched at the folds of linen that gathered at your waist, "I'm sorry, I must go." Not sparing another moment, you started walking away, before a firm grip took hold of your arm.

Raising your knee to your gut, you threw back your foot, heel colliding with his shin as he shouted in agony, his grip on your arm loosening.

Leaping over the plains of stone, you made haste through the dense woodland, kicking up dirt as you ran before a force tugged at your ankle, your body slamming against the ground in seconds.

You kicked your other foot in an attempt at keeping him away, turning to face him when you couldn't manage to kick at him.

The hem of his ebony robes kissed the dewy blades of grass beneath him, his arm outstretched towards you, the force around your ankle ever increasing.

Heart leaping in your chest, your throat swelled as he stalked towards you, his gaze only softening slightly as he approached you.

Your beauty captured him in a daze from afar, the dimples and ribbons of pink that you wore on your thighs, peaking out from the woven linen, the few strands of hair that refused to relax on your head, the soft contour of your collarbones, he was in awe. He had never seen a creature so perfect, and yet here you were, displayed in the sun as if it were a spotlight.

Proceeding towards you, you almost choked on your words, "No, what are you doing?!"

Towering over you, he lowered himself above you, grazing his knuckles over your temple and along your cheek, an overbearing sense of exhaustion taking over you as any inch of consciousness left your body, your figure falling limp in his hold.

Now he was closer to you than ever before, he took a moment to truly admire you. The fuzz along the back of your neck that was highlighted by the morning sun, the crescent moons that appeared on a select few of your nails, the gentle creases on your lips, you were truly a wonder, and the thought of you had his stomach fluttering.

#fanfic #yandere #anakin skywalker #x reader #anakin x reader #yandere anakin #star wars #star wars prequels #artoo detoo #r2d2 #asks #request

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vampyrsm · 2 years

Text

'The Forbidden Flame.' Chapter II Prince Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Synopsis: The Summer Festival is finally here. The tournament is meant to bring together the noble families of Ilgis, but instead, a clear divide is made when the Prince is unable to push down the anger that bubbles from his mouth like fiery lava.

Warnings: MDNI. There is no smut but it is graphic. Mentions of flaying, mentions of torture, slight misogynistic views, very detailed descriptions of violence, blood, fighting, character death, jealousy, yandere behaviour(?). Please take care with the warnings.

Word Count: 6829.

[Glossary] | [Masterlist] | [Previous] | [Next]

A rustle of wind blew through the branches of the old grand oak trees that hung overhead and the long grass that came up to your calves. The birds were loud this morning, chirping as they sang their usual morning song to signify the start of the day. Sitting in this field not too far from your home was tranquil. It wasn't much, just a humble log cabin in which you and your family lived. You had a brother, a younger sister and of course your mother and father. Everything was great, the family business was thriving with the call for more weapons on the frontline.

You just never imagined that the frontline would be so close to home.

A long droning noise, similar to that of a horn of some kind, reverberated against your chest, the birds had fallen silent you noted and it was like the wind had died in the air. It was the only calm you got before you heard the screech of a man—no, a warcry—breech through the treeline at the edge of the field you were lounging in. It all happened so quickly, that you couldn't recognise the sigils of the men racing out of the forest with their rusted bronze axes and spears, their skin painted with dried blood and cracked white paint. That could only mean one thing, it was a northern tribe.

These northern tribes were never one to bend under the rule of the crown, they were known to rape and pillage the villages closest to their outposts that were so deep north that no one believed they could live up there in such horrific conditions. The stories they told of these tribes were ones you grew up on, having your mother tell the darkest of stories to ensure you never went out alone in the dark as a child. If you did, she said, you'd be taken away by these men in wolf fur and used as a sacrifice to their God; the Ice Giant.

Just as you scampered to get to your feet, grasping at the ends of your skirt to make sure you didn't tumble over yourself. You felt a different kind of booming chill you right to your bones, even the sound of the tribe running directly towards you was drowned out by something you could never, ever forget. It happened all very quickly, there was a brief moment of absolute silence before a screeching roar ripped through the air and then something darker than the night sky shot through the sky like an arrow fired from a bow.

You weren't a complete idiot, you knew what that was. It was a dragon, and only one family in the entire realm had dragons like that.

You felt the heat hit you like a brick wall, making you hiss and shield your face away with your arms when the blazing inferno spiralled down from the black creature in the sky. The screams of the men were drowned out by the sizzling of their bodies, by the whoosh of large wings that beat once before disappearing again into the clouds overhead.

Once you believed it to be clear, you slowly dropped your arms down to only stare in horror at the sight before you. There wasn't even anything left of the men, their weapons nothing but bubbling steel and their bodies were ash, flurrying away when another strong breeze rustled through the trees shaking you from your staring.

You had to get home, if the tribes were this close then your family could be in danger too. They clearly weren't a small tribe, and if the Northmen had to get a dragon involved in a fight—you hated to think about just how large scale of an attack was hitting the village you lived in.

Sprinting back towards your home, the smell of smoke and something you now knew was the smell of flesh that had been burned by something hotter than any flame you had ever seen. It turned your stomach uncomfortably, you worried about your family. Your father wasn't home, he had gone into the next village over to trade for the upcoming winter, your brother was the only man left in the house to defend your mother and sister but would he be enough?

These men were brutes.

You skidded around the loose dirt path that led up towards your home, but you could already see the fire from here. The smoke was high up into the sky, a signal to those who were passing through that the house had been successfully raided and to you, a signal that your worst nightmare had come true. But it was much, much worse than you could've ever imagined. The first person you saw was your brother, or rather, parts of him. They flayed him, like some deer, he was splayed out against the wooden door that had been ripped off of its hinges and used as the board to torture him.

The scream didn't fully escape your throat until you glanced through the now open doorway, and there was your mother. You couldn't identify what had killed her, or how they had managed to mangle her body so badly with just the use of their bare hands. The bile burned at your throat, your body lurching over to expel everything you had eaten for your breakfast that morning. You couldn't see your sister's body, she was much younger than you, your mind instantly leapt at the idea that she had been taken, the stories your mother told you as a child had come true. Your little sister would be used as one of their sacrifices, and there was nothing you could do.

...

You gasped as you sat up in the furs of your bed, hands clamping down into the sheep skin and fur to cling to it—to reality. It was just a nightmare, you had to keep reminding yourself, just a nightmare to taunt you. Your skin felt clammy, hair sticking to the back of your neck and around your face as you heaved in deep and heavy breaths. Glancing towards the cracked open window, the sun was just starting to rise, being so far into the city you didn't hear the chirp of birds. You missed your home, the south wasn't nearly as accommodating compared to further up north. The ground was mostly dried out from the heat, the water tasted different and the people here were much more hostile.

It didn't feel like home to you, but you had no choice but to follow your father here after the events that happened.

Deciding to get on with your day, you got up, trying not to cringe at the wet patch of sweat left in your wake in the many furs and sheets that you had bundled yourself up in last night. If the sun was just rising, you wouldn't have long until your father was awake. You had to get the order of weapons he had made yesterday to the arena before it all started, which gave you roughly two hours to get it completed. It shouldn't take too long, if you get through the city streets fast enough then you'd have time to spare before you attend the tournament.

With a plan now in mind, you got to starting your day properly. Taking a quick bath in the wooden tub, was more like a bucket than anything but it would have to do to just rid the sweat and the lingering reminder of the nightmare from your body. It wasn't unusual for you to get these sorts of nightmares, but it was no real surprise when they started to pop up more frequently ever since you started to live deeper into Dragon's Perch, seeing the dragons pass overhead almost every day was enough to send a shockwave of awful memories through you.

By the time you were ready to start loading the weapons on the cart, the streets had slowly started to wake up. Drunkards crawling from their shadowed sleeping spots in the dark alleys and young boys running through the streets with their excitement bubbling at the prospect of seeing the dragons up close and personal today. It was always a spectacle, everyone loved to be near the beasts, it was very rare otherwise to get close to them.

Hauling the weapons onto the cart seemed to be a job you underestimated, your father must've made more than he needed to. It made sense, you supposed, that a lot of the weapons would be destroyed by nightfall from the sheer ferocity of the fights that would happen in just a few hours. Lifting up one of the boxes seemed to be your downfall, a foot wobbling on the uneven cobblestone and the weapons clanged against one another as you tried to lift the box high enough to just shove it onto the cart.

A curse word was all you were able to shout, ankle rolling beneath you and you braced to expect the cold floor beneath your back and the possibility of being impaled by one of the many swords. That was until a large hand clasped around your waist, and forced your back to meet a solid body of warmth. Tentatively you looked up, expecting to see an old man or someone worse coming to your rescue, but you were pleasantly surprised by the head of green curls, some darker than others to give the illusion that he had black hair too.

His eyes reminded you of home, they were green, but they were warm also. Like he would never do anything wrong to you, that he would always make you smile no matter what. You felt safe. He was massive, at least a foot on you in height but he was slim, well-built you realised from the sturdy way he was holding your body effortlessly, not even noticing that he had used a single hand to grab the box of swords to push it onto the cart in front of you.

Realising you had been staring too long, you blinked quickly and removed yourself from his grasp and patted down your dress. You turned to face him properly, head forced back to meet his gaze. "Thank you, for saving me from a very sad death." you tried to joke lightly, smiling at him until he smiled back just as gently, a large hand running through the back of his hair.

"No need to thank me. Just happened to be at the right place at the right time I suppose." His accent was northern, painfully so, it made your eyes widen a little in curiosity. He sounded like he came from The Frozen Reach. "Do you need help with the rest of them?", he pointed to the large stack of boxes and crates that needed to be hauled up.

"Oh! Right," you turned to look at the boxes, huffing at the sight of them all. "If you wouldn't mind, of course. I don't want to keep you from your morning, it's going to be a very busy day." you glanced back at him, but he was already moving to the boxes and hauling up two of them effortlessly on top of each other.

He deposited them on the cart, moving to get another before he spoke "It's no problem, really, I don't have much to do today other than attending the tournaments later today." It made sense, most men didn't work today unless they were older, or too young to carry the heavy stuff. It was all about them getting a chance to prove that they were "real men", a barbaric way of doing it but it was something they apparently wanted.

You nodded, helping him with readjusting the crates on the cart in order to make sure they all fit. "Are you a fighter?" you asked, eyes trailing over the obvious muscles he was sporting despite being so lean, that he looked like he was a soldier. Perhaps a commander of some kind. If he was from The Frozen Reach, it was very likely he was a nobleman of his own house given his stature and the way he spoke, it wasn't inelegant as some of the other northern men you had met.

"Today I am," he smiled, pushing another crate on the cart. "But usually I'm just a stablehand." You blinked at him, wide eyes and slightly gaping mouth. A stablehand? He didn't look the type! Most of them were scrawny little boys who were being disciplined for being little shits to their fathers! He was a grown man, a big grown man. He caught the look on your face, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. "I know, I don't seem the type."

"No!" you started, "I mean, you seem far too..." he laughed when you gestured at his height and the size of his arms. "I would've never thought you were a stablehand, may I ask who for?" That made him stop for a moment, running a hand up along his forehead and through his hair, he eyed you for a moment clearly making some sort of silent judgement about his next words.

He must've come to a good decision as his shoulders relaxed, leaning a hip against the cart. "The Todoroki's." you gasped, the Todoroki's were a big house. One of the more noble ones, they were known for their fiery temperament in battle, and their unwavering need to be the best. "Though I rarely interact with Lord Enji, I'm more of a stablehand for his son."

"You mean the Shoto Todoroki?" he nodded. "Wow, I mean, you must be the subject of a lot of ire and envy from all the women in the North. I'm sure even they would muck out his stables if it meant to breathe the same air as him!" you exclaimed, it was true, the young Lord was no secret from the realm. Especially to those up north, he was almost like royalty himself—just without the crown, and dragons. Though you wonder what he would look like on a dragon, elegant and so graceful most likely. Nothing like the barbaric prince who grinned when he watched his dragon rip apart outposts.

"It sounds like you might be one of them," he winks, and you blush profusely and shake your head. Of course, you weren't blind, you could see that Shoto was very, very attractive but he was a Lord. Highborn, he was destined for great things whereas you were just a lowborn girl who worked for her blacksmith of a father.

"Oh, no, I don't think I could work with horses all day," you started, moving to connect the cart to your own family horse. "What I mean is it's not a bad job! Of course. I just wouldn't like to do it." you tried to recover, but the green-haired man didn't seem bothered.

Instead, he just shrugged a little, smiling. "It's not for everyone I get it, I'm happy to just have a place to sleep and eat every night." that got your attention as you sat on the wooden bench of the cart, the man sitting down next to you.

"I never got your name," you clicked your tongue, directing the horse on through the streets, they were much busier than you would've liked but it wasn't too bad. People moved out of the way quickly enough. "You speak well, so I'm assuming you come from a noble house."

The man next to you shifted, you were too focused on the road ahead of you to see the uncomfortable expression on his face. "Oh, Izuku." he supplied, just a first name was a little odd so you side-eyed him for a second, instantly catching his gaze. "Midoriya, it's a uh, dead house." That made more sense, but it was still odd that he referred to it as a dead house, a lot of people would be still brimming with pride that they couldn't be fully defeated. It left an odd feeling in your stomach.

"I see, sorry for asking." you were quick enough to reply, tightening your hands on the reigns. "I don't recognise the name, maybe it's because I'm not from as far north as you?" you wanted him to not feel so shameful about his name, having a house name was a prideful thing. You would kill to have a name worth recognising, but alas no one ever recognised the blacksmith's family never mind the blacksmith's daughter.

"Maybe," was all he replied with, again leaving you with an air of uncertainty.

The rest of the ride was relevantly silent, not that you minded much. Despite the man having the face of an angel, and a voice to match, he gave you an odd sense of dread that set deep in your stomach. It wasn't as if you felt immediate danger, it was more... the idea that he was hiding the truth behind who he really was. Only people who wished to hide from something, or someone, would say their house was dead. After all, who would search for a dead man?

Arriving at The Pandemonium, you noticed several other carts had arrived filled to the brim with armour, sigils on shields that would be wielded in just a few short hours. Numerous men with the Bakugou sigil on their chests were moving around, all the King's men ordering about the cart drivers and other workers to make sure the day went off without a hitch. It wasn't long before you were seen to, the man in the black armour giving you a look over before his eyes locked onto the tall green-haired man next to you.

You watched as the soldier's eyes wandered over his features for a moment, eyes darting from the green curls and down to his stature. Izuku was rigid as a rock wall, unwavering as he stared down at the man who was inspecting just a little too closely. Why would the King's men have an interest in Izuku? It made the palms of your hands sweaty around the reigns, your heart thundering in your chest at the prospect of being turned away. Your father would be furious, you dread to imagine what he'd do if you got turned away from the arena. He would—

"Good to go." The Soldier commented finally, a wave of relief washing over you from head to toe and you saw Izuku visibly relax a little out of the corner of your eye. Was he nervous too? I suppose it makes sense, it wouldn't be the King who deals with him directly but rather the Prince as he was commander of the army and all its men. The King was just to who they swore loyalty. You thanked the man, making haste to click your tongue and jostle the reigns slightly to get the horse and cart back into motion.

The back entrance to The Pandemonium was essentially just a large cave opening, carved out to allow the entry of the biggest of dragons. There were columns supporting the entrance from where it had been hand-carved, it was made from what looked like a mixture of stone and obsidian. The long tunnel entrance was dark, just the occasional oil lamp that was perched within a carved-out ditch in the wall, most likely to ensure the dragons didn't accidentally hit them on their way past you supposed.

It was like all sound suddenly vanished once you were completely in the tunnel, the drip of water from the limestone stalactites above and the rattling of the wooden cart behind you. It was unnerving, the darkness moved and flickered as if something was darting about to avoid being seen. Could it be a dragon? Would it attack? If it was small enough to hide in the shadows then perhaps it was just a young dragon, did they have those? Your mind was running a mile a minute as your eyes darted from corner to corner, flinching when the cart bumped into a hole and splashed water up onto your feet through the gaps of the wooden cart.

Izuku was watching you out of the corner of his eye, observing each flinch and hitch of your breath as you continued to venture further into the tunnel. He shifted his body slightly closer, large thigh now pressed against your own and he wasn't sure if you knew what you were doing, but you seemed to lean more into him as if you knew he'd protect you from the darkness, and what lurks there.

Or rather, who lurks there. He's familiar with that feeling of eyes hotter than hellfire boring into his skin, he knew just who was lurking in the veil of darkness. And Izuku couldn't stop the way his lips curled up into a smirk, of course he'd come out early to the Dragon's pit.

The low groaning of the metal gate at the end of the tunnel finally allowed you to relax, edging slightly away from the man to who you subconsciously leaned closer for safety. It felt like eyes were on you like something was preying on you. It was an unnerving feeling, something you had only ever felt once before when you had seen eyes as red as blood lurking outside of your home not too many nights ago.

Izuku was first to hop off of the cart once it slowed to a stop, helping you down and making quick work of offloading everything from the carts. At least now you can say you got them delivered safely, your father would have no reason to scream and shout at you now. Perhaps he'd actually smile this time. The thought was just a fantasy, of course, you knew your father hadn't smiled since the death of your family and he most definitely wouldn't stop shouting at you—blaming you for everything.

"Are you okay?" Izuku asked, having seen you stand staring blankly at the cart in front of you. He had finished unloading the rest for you, you hadn't even noticed until you blinked away the darkness shielding your eyes and you looked up at the man in question. "Does this place scare you that much?"

You laughed, albeit rather nervously and breathy which didn't help your case at all. "Oh, no, it's nothing." you smiled at him, eyes darting back to the cart and then to the unloaded boxes. "Thank you for this, really. You didn't have to."

Izuku shook his head, that charming smile gracing his lips again. "Don't worry about it, I'm always happy to help someone as beautiful as you." the comment made you blush, hard, the heat flooding your face made your eyes widen and abruptly look away from him. His laugh was loud, bouncing off of the rocky cavern walls, it was a joyful laugh but it felt almost predatory in such an empty space. "Sorry, that was a bit too forward. Even for me."

"No, no, it's just I don't hear that very often," you admitted, it was true, not many men would say such things to you. You were just a blacksmith's daughter, the daughter of a mostly dead family—you were too much baggage for anyone to take on, and the idea of a quick fuck had never appealed to you much.

It was quiet for a moment between the two of you before you jumped out of your skin at the walls rumbling with a loud roar that seemed so much louder than it should've been. It was as if it was right behind you. The walls crumbled a little at the sheer force of the roar, and your eyes briefly darted across to Izuku who was stood stonefaced and unflinching at the noise. How could he not be scared?

"Promise they're not as close as it might sound," was all he offered, a gentle smile on his face that didn't quite match the odd glaze of his forest green eyes. Something crawled down your spine, something like the realisation that this man was no longer safe to be around, especially not in a dark damp cave surrounded by roaring dragons and hardly lit oil lamps.

"R-Right," you cleared your throat, hopping back onto the empty cart and adjusting the reigns in your hands. "We should be getting back, we have only two hours until the first fight." You watched his face light up when you mentioned the fight, and he wasted no time in hopping back onto the cart with a different air of excitement about him now. Maybe you'd put a little more effort into making sure you got your cart back home quicker than usual, you had to get away from this man.

...

Crimson.

That was all that shrouded his eyes, his head pounding with the blood that was sloshing around his body in heated waves. He was enraged, the pounding of his heart was like a drum in his ears. The metal that was currently in his hand bending under the pressure of being crushed inside of his curled fist, and the chatter around him was loud. Too loud. Everything was too loud, and far too much for the Dragon Prince.

Katsuki had never felt this kind of rage, it was a bubbling type that built up from his stomach and encased his heart before it clawed up at his throat like a volcano ready to erupt. And all his mind could supply in a time like this was the same images on repeat, over and over. And each time they always involved you. He didn't understand it, this sudden obsession his mind had taken with you, he shouldn't have cared when he was lurking in the shadows on the way to Xol, when he heard a voice he hadn't expected to hear today.

His stomach turned at the reminder of how the familiar green-haired man pushed himself closer to your body on that cart, how he draped himself practically around you—as if that could ever stop Katsuki or any of the dragons that were just beyond the walls surrounding you. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't caught the glimpse of that self-satisfied smirk on Izuku's face, the way his eyes were darkened with something Katsuki had only ever seen in the worst of men.

"Your Grace?" came the voice of one of his guards, his eyes darting to look at who dared to address him just to come face to face with Eijirou, the man had removed his usual helmet and held it under his arm. Just to his side were the other two guards assigned to the prince; Denki Kaminari and Hanta Sero. The two were just as fearlessly loyal as their tall red-haired commander. All of them would be having their own fights today, it was a festival of celebration and everyone was invited to take part.

Of course, though, they'd never fight the Prince himself out of fear of what may overtake him in the throes of intense battle and bloodlust.

Katsuki blinked away the imagery in his mind, trying his hardest to focus for the remainder of the day. He can't afford a slipup, not if his father was watching so closely. "What is it?" he snapped back to Eijirou, the man seeming relieved that he got a semi-normal response from the blonde man.

"It's starting, you'll be up first so they can free you up for the rest of the day." Eijirou stepped back once Katsuki got up from his perched position on top of the old wooden table, he stretched his arms high above his head and rolled his neck from side to side.

The first thing of the day was the hand-to-hand combat fighting, later in the evening would they bring out the dragons as they were creatures of the night, they'd be more 'feisty' to fight with. Katsuki knew he'd come out on top of the fights, he always did. The only fight he had looked forward to was the one with the bastard of Blacksummit but now that had been ripped from beneath him and replaced with this new burning rage he had felt from this morning.

On the other side of the portcullis, Katsuki could see the large crowd that had filled the seating area that surrounded the sand pit. It was deep because of the dragons, but that also meant he would be able to get away with causing damage before someone would come down and stop him. It was a messed-up thought process, but he needed the outlet he realised, if he didn't find someone to punch and kick the living shit out of then he wonders if he would finally explode from the pure anger that was festering in his body.

The portcullis screeched as it rolled upwards, and the uproar of cheering got louder at the realisation that it was about to start. Katsuki could now see his father and mother up in the royal stand, the large throne that had been made just for him sticking out like a sore thumb whilst his mother's glare was deadly once they met eyes. He stepped out into the stream of light that came from the open top of the arena, the screams and clapping thunderously loud against his ears.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The Herald yells loud enough over the crowd, gaining their attention instantly. "Today marks the start of the long summer! And what better way to start such a season than to have our very own Prince of the Dragons fight for us!" The crowd cheers loudly. The fucked up idea of seeing blood and guts spilt by one man gave Katsuki goosebumps. They all came here for him.

Katsuki stood just in the centre of the arena now, he wasn't wearing his traditional armour that one might see when jousting or sword fighting. He abandoned it all for a bare chest, only his forearms covered by tight black sleeves and fitting trousers made of sheep skin that would allow enough movement for him to really lay into whoever was unlucky enough to face him. Around his neck was his family sigil engraved into a necklace, made up of obsidian, glinting in the morning sun as he turned to gauge the audience.

His eyes honed in on a head of green, and then your own. His heart lurched in his chest, you were cornered by the man once again who was crowding you against the seat you were in. Whispering something in your ear and all Katsuki could do is watch at the way your eyes were pleading with his very own, why would you plead for him? He didn't get the chance to think more when the sound of clinking metal and scuffed feet in the sand announced his first rival.

By the looks of it, it was one of the lesser houses' sons, probably pushed in by his father or brothers to be humiliated in front of most of Corvos. Katsuki rolled his shoulders, lowering his stance slightly as the man stripped his own armour off—Katsuki imagines that the boy most likely believes somehow that it would make the fight 'fair', but in truth, it was already over before it began. The poor boy would probably have life-changing injuries once Katsuki was through with him.

Katsuki was the first to make a move, dashing forward that got a loud cheer from the crowd and his arm reared back, a vicious snarl on his face when he saw the fear in the boy's eyes as he widened them, finally realising just who the fuck he was fighting. The second Katsuki felt skin connect with the flesh of his knuckles, it was like his mind blacked out. Giving over the reigns to the pure primal part of himself that fed off of the screams of the crowd when he landed a particularly nasty punch or when he kicked so hard the entire arena cringed at the sound of the other person's bones snapping from the force.

The next time Katsuki blinked he was standing in the centre of the arena again, watching as the squires dragged off another unfortunate victim. His chest was heaving in heavy breaths, his once clean bare chest was now coated in a thick layer of sticky sweat and blood that didn't belong to him. His ashen hair was wilder than usual, and his blood-red eyes were scanning the crowd, in a way a predator would when searching for their prey, as he tried to figure out if he had won already or if someone would dare to challenge him one final time—

"It seems we have one more challenger for the Prince!" The Herald yells again, the crowd cheering right on cue and Katsuki turned just in time to see the man jump down from the ledge that led down from the crowd and into the pit, it wasn't usual for someone to jump in from the crowd but it also wasn't banned. It was a free-for-all after all. The beast deep in his heart snarled at the sight of green curls that bounced once he landed, and his muscles tensed when he stood to his full height.

Izuku Midoriya.

The young Lord of the House that rebelled against the crown.

Katsuki thought the fucker had run off and died somewhere like the sad pathetic bug that he was, but apparently by the looks of things he had been bulking up, training hard if the way his biceps rolled when he pulled off his own cotton shirt and threw it off to the side. Katsuki snarled, larger than normal canines on show and his pupils blown wide as he honed in on his next victim, this was the man that was all over you. This was the one who made you uncomfortable, the one who was smirking when you sought safety.

The Herald announced the start of the fight once again, and the cheers grew louder when Izuku was the first to make a move. His large bounding footsteps caught Katsuki by surprise, a man of that stature shouldn't move so quickly but alas, he was reeling back an arm and Katsuki registered the copper on his tongue before he realised he was staring up at the open ceiling of the arena.

"Ha, surprised to see a familiar face again?" Izuku taunted, words deaf to those in the crowd but louder than any warcry Katsuki had ever heard as the man lashed out for him again. This time Katsuki was quick to move out of the way, body bending to the side with practised ease before he swung his own fist forward, his right hook one of his most famous moves of the day.

Katsuki relished in the way Izuku's entire body reeled backwards from the uppercut, feet staggering back in the bloody sand. "No. Just surprised you had the fucking balls to step foot into my city, you lowlife piece of shit!" he roared, launching himself forward to collide hard with the man in a harsh tackle. Izuku went down hard, but still, he was able to get his hands pushed against the Prince's chest to practically propel him backwards and off of him before he could lock him into position.

Izuku wasted no time in getting up, wiping away the blood that was pouring from his nose with his battered and bruised fist. He was readying his next attack when he noticed Katsuki's eyes weren't even on Izuku anymore, but rather in the direction of where Izuku was previously.

Ah.

"Oh? Someone got your attention, your majesty?" Izuku snickered, enjoying the enraged look that Katsuki shot his way once he had fully gauged your reaction; you were watching with wide eyes but you weren't staring at Izuku, you were watching him. "Sorry to say this, but you don't have a chance in hell with someone as beautiful as her."

The reaction was immediate, Katsuki lurched forward with his fists ready to strike over and over but Izuku was just now warming up, practically dancing around each hit from the blonde. "Shut the fuck up." was all Katsuki could growl out over the rage crushing his throat, his vision was blurred around the edges as he watched Izuku's features light up with glee.

Izuku retaliated, fist reeling back to catch Katsuki directly in the chest which sent the prince tumbling backwards onto his ass, the crowd gasping at the rare sight of the Prince beneath someone. "She really is beautiful, isn't she?" the fake light tone Izuku adopted made Katsuki's stomach turn, the green-haired man approached Katsuki slowly, leering over him like a natural predator and the Prince the unsuspecting prey. "I bet she'll look even better when she's sprawled out beneath me, begging for me to ruin her. Like the common whore she is."

Something snapped deep inside of Katsuki's mind, the way Izuku spoke of you, sullying your name, disrespecting something that was going to be his. Izuku was about to open his mouth again when Katsuki slammed his fist against the broader man's knee, his body instantly crumbling to the floor as his knee buckled. He wasted no time in changing the positions, throwing Izuku down into the sand as he clambered up on top of him.

Izuku's eyes were wide, a maniac grin on his face that screamed he had finally won by managing to make the Prince unbelievably angry. Katsuki kept Izuku pinned beneath him, arms being crushed by the tense grip of the prince's thighs and he was pretty certain he had shattered one of Izuku's knees from the force of the fall. "Yeah, just like this. I bet she'll look even better when I rough her up a li—"

A solid punch to Izuku's jaw sent his head reeling to the side, spit and blood spraying from his mouth and mixing into the already blood-soaked sand. The crowd cheered, chants that vaguely sounded like "Kill! Kill! Kill him!", and the Prince of Dragons was never one to disappoint his people.

Katsuki made the decision, right then and there, that this would be the only true way to clear out the rage he felt, to soothe the burning jealousy that clawed at his skin. It wasn't like it was completely unwarranted either, the man beneath him was an enemy to the crown. His fist tightened again, blood pouring from the open cuts littering his knuckles, waiting for Izuku to meet his eye again before he brought his fist down again.

And again.

And.. again.

The crowd gasped, screaming in jubilation and disgust when there was a sickening crack followed by a loud squelch. Katsuki couldn't see anything but the red-tinted veil over his eyes as he watched Izuku's features morph from something akin to fear, a realisation that he had made a grave mistake in poking the dragon, and then into nothing but a bloodied mixture of protruding bones and brain matter that stuck to Katsuki's fists as he continued to lay fist after fist against the mans face.

The green of his hair turned to more of a dark green, almost black, with the blood soaking into it. Katsuki didn't stop once he felt the sand on the other side of Izuku's skull stick to his bloodied and most likely broken fists. All he could focus on was securing the fact this monster wouldn't be a threat to you, a threat to a future including the both of you.

This was all for you.

A set of large hands hooked under his armpits, yanking him rather viciously off of the lifeless body and his head lulled back, catching sight of the red hair of Eijirou who was shouting something over his head. Katsuki followed his line of sight, seeing his father stand up with his mother clasping a hand over her mouth. They knew Katsuki was a vicious fighter, but they had never seen him crush a man's head with his own bare hands and continue to rip him apart like he was the dragon.

Katsuki let his eyes drift over to where he last saw you, he thinks you're crying with the way your eyes are wide and you have both of your hands clutching against your stomach. You look sick, had he disgusted you? But he did this for you, can't you see? He did this to protect you, to defend your honour, to see that he was the perfect man for you—

The slam of the portcullis cut his view of you off, and he didn't fight the way Eijirou dragged him as if he wasn't the prince. He didn't care about how Eijirou was shouting at the other guards, demanding that they get Katsuki something to wash off the blood from his hands and to get a doctor down here immediately to tend to his wounds.

He didn't care about any of that because all he could focus on was you, and how you looked disgusted with him. Before his eyes rolled into the back of his skull from the exhaustion of splitting a man's head open with his bare hands, and the pain of his injuries setting in deep into his bones, he promised himself that he would seek you out. He'd find you, and he'd show you the reasonings behind his violent fight.

He'll show you.

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credit for the background image/banner: @vampyrsm please do not plagiarise, or recommend my work to places such as TikTok. taglist: @lyn-soso

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha x you #bnha x self insert #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x you #katsuki x you #bakugo x you #mha fantasy au #fantasy au #long fic #The Forbidden Flame #'The Forbidden Flame'#series

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bluetooththereptilethethird · 2 years

Text

His mother

Yandere Damian Wayne x Naga reader x yandere Bruce Wayne

Gif by unknown

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Tw: yandere themes, abduction, mentions of injury and memory loss

full moon had passed when he came back to the cave with an egg in his hands. He said that the cave he had found it in was abounded, you felt sorry at hearing that, the mother of the egg must have died when she was at hunting. you knew a thing or two about keeping eggs so you decided to take the baby in as well, when the boy was gone the baby could be a good companion for you. They would hatch within days, giving birth to the boy’s sibling, Damian…the boy, your son, liked to take the baby in his arms and rock it gently, talking about never letting his mother and siblings go, and you were happy to hear that. Life couldn’t be better, but any happiness would end in one way or another.

Five full moons passed till when you hear one of those giant birds humans used to fly in the sky, you thought it would fly away and ignored it, but in one day three of them flew into the area, more of them showing up as the time passed, Damian felt uneasy and the baby would cling to your breasts like they could feel something strange was coming.

It was not until the night humans set their feet in your cave that you found out it was too late to do something about those giant birds, Damian was manhandled by a human that had black secondary skin, looking more like those bats at the end of the cave. You tried to attack the human but you were knocked out by his Har punch, the last things you could remember were Damian’s groans, the baby’s crying, and the man’s gruff voice calling your son by the name, telling him to calm down.

Since then you had found yourself in this cage, learning that Damian was the son of that bat human, that he had taken you and the baby away from your forest since Damian insisted that you were his mother. You didn’t know how much time had passed, only the baby’s growth and Damian’s random arrivals to the cage kept you busy and reminded you that the time was passing.

But things tended to get more strange, you pleaded Damian to tell his father to let you and the baby go, that you and his sibling didn’t have a place among humans, but the boy only stared at you dead in the eyes “Your place is here mother…with me, with your family!” family? you didn’t understand what he meant only to have the human that seemed to be Damian’s father walk in the cage, the first time nearly killed him by lashing out and biting his neck with your venomous fangs, the man left you and your children alone, but Damian was not happy about it, he even raised his voice at you “He just wanted to meet you! why can’t you act normal?”

Since then the water felt uncomfortable, the air having a stinking aura, and you felt numb. You crawled out of the water again, to see Damian sit next to the pool “Hello mother” he smiled; tiling his to the side cooing at seeing his sibling make a gurgling sound and make grabby hands for him. Damian took the baby from you and you watched as he kissed the baby’s face several times, the baby’s tail curling around his arm. You watched them with a soft smile, only to your peaceful moments to be ruined by feeling the water move and two large arms cling to your body.

It was him, the man…Bruce, as Damian had called him. The man buried his head in the crook of your neck, finally getting the chance to touch you “Good girl” he cooed in your ear, Damian’s smile widen as he saw you two together. You closed your eyes, wishing that you had never left your cave at that fateful night…but it was too late…

#yandere #yandere batman #yandere dc #naga reader #fem naga reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere x reader #yandere x fem reader #yandere x naga reader #dc comics #dc robin

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innerunderrain · 2 years

Text

Harbinger of Misery [Yan! Capitano x Saintess! Reader]

Harbinger: something that foreshadows a future event; something that gives an anticipatory sign of what is to come.

Warnings: Yandere implications, mentions of war and deaths, separation from family, abuse of power, brief description of gore, manipulation, infantilizing behaviors, mentions of wounds and blood, brief description of deceased animals, minor animal death, dark themes.

Word count: 5.8k [Longest writing I've done so far]

Small prompts taken in the same au as: The Sloth [Yan! Columbina x Saintess! Reader x Yan! Capitano

A man of Pride [Yan! Scaramouche x Saintess! Reader]]

A melancholy autumn breeze that was a foreboding harbinger of winter fluttered high among the lodgepole pine trees.

You squinted at the treetops as you peer into the pitch-black sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of the migratory birds that would soon take flight for a new temporary home while they awaited for the winter in Snezhnaya to pass by. Perhaps Mondstadt? Although you have never been to Mondstadt, your mother has always spoken favorably about the country, offering you the impression that it is always filled with a brilliant sky and hummingbirds.

As opposed to the lingering coldness within your country.

In an effort to stay warm despite the cold weather, you swiftly wrapped your mittens over your flushed hands as the wind howled into the sky and caressed your face.

"[First Name]! It's time to come in! It's getting late."

From the sanctuary of your own dwelling, your mother's shrill voice called out to you, pleading with you to hurry back inside. You grumble and turn away from the foreboding forest, but not without pausing and throwing a brief glimpse its way, hoping to catch sight of something interesting.

Snap.

You sprout up in surprised at the quick crackle of a twig as you peer into the woods in an endeavor to comprehend the sound. Perhaps it's a wild animal? But the only thing you could see within the forest was the pitch-black expanse that was covered in tall pine trees, seemingly rather omnious more than usual. You hurried back to your cabin, feeling a little uneasy but attempting to dismiss the newfound paranoia as just being nothing.

It's plausible that you're just a little worried about the impending winter. You were born and reared in a nation where the long, cold winters were the norm, yet you never really adapted to the cold. You've tried more than once to persuade your parents to sell their business so they can relocate to a warmer nation, but all they would say was that the inn was a family-run business that had been in operation since their great-grandparents' time.

The remainder of the evening went rather smoothly; you enjoyed your family's meal and assisted your mother with the dishes. Before bed, you were able to run a nice bath, which left you feeling rather refreshed as you flop onto your mattress and get ready to retire. Yet every time you closed your eyes, the gloomy woodland resurfaced in your memory, leading you back to the earlier incidents that had occurred inside the forest.

The following morning, you woke up earlier than usual, forcing yourself to wash your face despite the obvious black circles beneath your eyes. Simply put, you experienced the worst sleep of your life. Every few minutes throughout the entire night, you would toss and turn in bed. The cozy comforter that was sheltering your body became wholly inadequate as the room suddenly turned too frigid. You were confident that you had slept for no more than three hours, and even when you finally managed to drift off, unexpected dreams would certainly occupy your slumber.

You honestly can't recall the exact action from the dream in its entirety. However, you can remember hearing faint voices crying out to you and pleading with you to join them, the image of the gloomy forest would resurface after that.

Even though it was still early in the morning, your parents' inn appeared to be more crowded than usual. There were numerous visitors gathered in the main dining room, many of them had an old-fashioned, rigid appearance. The guests consumed their coffee in solitude, too weary to eat anything else, and all they could utter were a few murmurs that seemingly evaporated into the air.

The entrance's front door was suddenly thrown open, the doorway thumping violently against the wall, and the originally mellow atmosphere abruptly ended.

A troop of the Fatuis entered the motor Inn, triggering a large number of onlookers to jump up from their seats and disperse in different locations as one Fatui soldier stepped forward. Only horrifying glances could be seen between your parents, particularly your mother, who seemed to be on the verge of tears.

A tall man dressed in dark armour enters the building suddenly, his long, black hair spilling over the collar of his white coat. Your mother hurried to the kitchen to prepare a mug of tea as your father scampered to the entrance of the inn to greet the man.

At the sight of the enormous man, the atmosphere around you suddenly became too dense. Being surrounded by so many Fatui troops in the dining area made it challenging to breathe freely.

Your only option was to idly linger by the wall's edge and watch as your father pulled out a chair for the man and they sat down at one of the tables. Your father's anxious smile was palpable as he did this.

"Sir Il Capitano, what brings you to this humble tavern on this beautiful morning in the cold weather?"

Il Capitano? There is just no way that a resident of Snezhnaya could not have heard of the notorious Fatui Harbingers, Her Majesty's most dedicated attendants. Despite your head being consistently jammed with clouds, even you recognized who he was. You simply didn't anticipate for him to be - so menacing.

But you don't understand.

Why would a high-ranking Fatui Harbinger be in such a remote location right now, conversing with your father? Your parents were very typical people; they were simply two couples trying to make ends meet and keep their business afloat. Therefore it made no sense for them to fall under the suspicion of the Tsaritsa.

"I believe you are aware of the reason why I am here."

The Captain spoke, his voice unexpectedly rich and smooth, almost taking you by surprise since you had previously assumed the man would have a voice that resembled his ominous appearance.

He had a really appealing voice, but you didn't want to admit it. Although his tone was as frigid as the Snezhnayan winter, it was nonetheless as deep as the ocean that you often visited during the summer.

You sprang back in surprise as the man suddenly turned his attention to you. Although his helmet obscured his face, you were certain he was staring at you since his unseen eyes seemed to pierce into your frame, seemingly searching for something within your soul, before he turned back to your father. While your mother placed a platter of warm tea on the tabletop, her eyes seemed to be pleading with your father, though you weren't sure what exactly she was begging for. Your father could only stutter out a response, his voice rather weak and rigid.

"A..ah, yes. But, I thought that the Tsaritsa did not need her assistance until she became twenty-one."

"Since she will turn twenty-one in less than a few months, the war's circumstances have changed, although it's not a significant difference."

As your father hoisted up the steaming pot of tea and attempted to pour it into the captain's teacup, his fingers began to tremble which almost prompted you to step out to help him but your mother's glare stopped you. However, Il Capitano made no attempt to assist him, instead choosing to only observe disinterestedly as your father eventually succeeded in pouring tea into his own cup.

"The Saintess must be brought into the nation's capital this month, as according to Her Majesty."

The Saintess? There hasn't been a Saintess presented within Snezhnaya for over the last hundreds of years.

"Sir, b... but! She lacks experience and is much too young.."

Your father objected, his eyebrows quivering and a look of desperation upon his face as he fought to find the appropriate words.

"She does not require any experience. I am capable of ensuring both her safety and her well-being."

"I..I know, but sir-"

"Why don't you let the young woman over there speak instead of giving your unwarranted opinion?"

Your father appears to stiffen as the captain makes a turn in your direction, while you gawk at him bewildered.

"W…what? Father, I don't understand…."

You spoke in a more subdued, hushed manner than usual as you heard your father struggling and stuttering to form the right words.

"...[First Name]... I was planning on telling you soon but…!"

The captain, who appeared a little agitated, interrupted your father as he tried to continue. His tone is colder than before, his words sharp.

"....Do you mean to say that your daughter is unaware of her status as the Saintess?"

Saintess?

As you considered the number twenty-one and your parents' apprehensive demeanour, suddenly the epiphany struck you, their prior talk beginning to make sense. It was you who will shortly be twenty-one. They were speaking about you.

But Saintess? That's not conceivable considering you lacked any sort of divine healing or general magical abilities.

You can't be the Saintess. They must be wrong.

But your father's tearful expression forced you to rethink your stance. He was obviously attempting to contain his eyes as they threatened to slip down his flushed cheeks as he fixed his gaze on yours. Your mother saw your frantic glance but ignored it and continued to look to the side, seeming to be ashamed.

"I would like to speak with your daughter if that is really the case. Alone."

Your parents were hustled out of the room as the other Fatui agents dispersed, leaving your parents with little to do but stare at you sympathetically. The silence in the room resurfaced as you nervously stood far apart from the Captain until he motioned for you to take a seat directly in front of him. You grudgingly yanked the chair out from under the table, the sound of the chair's leg grinding against the hardwood floor making you grimace.

You slumped into the chair, fumbling to lay your palms against your legs as you peered at the floor, wishing you were outdoors exploring the forest instead of being interrogated by some Fatui Harbinger.

"[First Name], is it?"

As he asked, you nodded while pondering how he was able to recognize your name.

"As you may have been aware, the Snezhnaya's War is currently deteriorating into a useless conflict."

The Captain took a moment to fiddle with the teacup's handle.

"Our healers are all passing away. In the past three hundred years, we have not been blessed by the appearance of a saintess."

He spoke before rising out of his chair and approaching you by gliding around the circular table. Stopping just behind you, pressing one of his gloved hands firmly against the pad of your shoulder.

"Until twenty years ago, a miracle occured."

His towering presence now overshadows your seated figure, generating a shadow and obstructing the light from above the two of you from reflecting onto you.

"That miracle being you."

The captain seems to have noticed your perplexed expression as he relaxed his solid clutch on your shoulder and walked over to the table and halted. Leaning down, he rested his palms on the wooden table while peering directly into your direction from behind his mask.

"Rest certain, nevertheless, that you will be able to do your duties as the Saintess under my guidance."

"What was the Fatui Harbinger referring to!?"

Your parents were seated in front of you, seemingly discovering their wrists to be the most fascinating thing in the entire world as you shrieked and smacked your hand onto the countertop. They could only sit there in quiet, and you fumed, your face flushed with apparent rage as you awaited their responses.

"H..honey.."

The first person to speak up was your mother, whose teary eyes made it clear that she was in agony. At the sheer sight, you nearly felt a wave of remorse wash over you but you stayed firm.

"We were going to tell you when it was the right time, we just weren't expecting for them to show up this soon-!"

"You still should have told me earlier!"

You interrupted as an intense headache began to develop on the side of your scalp.

"I know….I know, honey. It's just that it's hard for us to accept that our innocent daughter is supposed to be sent off to some wretched war."

Your mother gently caressed your father on the back as he mumbled softly, his voice wavering.

"We didn't want this fate to be forced upon you either….and tried to hide you as much as possible."

Even though you felt awful for your parents, you couldn't resist but be enraged at them for keeping such a crucial knowledge from you for such a prolonged period of time. And now you're supposed to be brought to the capital just so you can play the role of a Saintess in some horrendous dispute?

As a result of rage and disappointment, you felt tears begin to build up. When your mother tried to console you, you didn't do anything more than push her hand away and turn to leave, ignoring your parents' pleas and left for the main dining area. Just as you were about to push and open the entrance to the diner, you paused and took a long breath while trying to erase your scalding tears. Then, when you walked into the diner, you spotted the Captain who still sat in his earlier seat. The older man watched as you entered the room and waited as you approached him whilst attempting to keep your frustration from pouring onto your face.

"When am I required to leave?"

You questioned, your lips forming a narrow line as you stood a few inches in front of him. In spite of the fact that you couldn't see his face, you could feel his lips shifting into a small smile before he rose up from his chair.

"Right now."

You gape at him in confusion, taking in his words as they penetrate deep into your mind. The Captain simply tucked the material of his leather gloves under his white coat to mend them.

"There is no need to worry about bringing any personal items. We'll provide you everything you'll need."

He finally said, examining the bewildered expression on your face before gesturing to the windows. A Fatui agent barged in and stopped to salute, paying his respect to his captain.

"We're prepared to leave, sir. I've acquired all the equipment we'll require for the trip."

"Good."

The Captain then turned back to face you, stretching out his hand and beckoning you to take it. You cautiously placed your hand into his palm while being cognizant of the size discrepancies between your hands. Though you were aware that the man was significantly taller than the usual person, you hadn't anticipated that his hand would also be that big. You were certain that, if he really desired to, he could simply demolish your head with one hand.

You felt chills run down your spine at that notion.

However your parents stormed into the dining room before you had a chance to exit. They were sobbing and gripping the fabric of your dress within their hands as they pleaded for the Captain to let you stay. Although a sense of sadness crept into your heart, you and your parents were aware that there was nothing you could do to alter your fate, at least not without Her Majesty's approval.

The only thing you could do was slant your body in the direction of your parents, scoop them into your arms, and hold them there while you felt warm tears soaking into your shirt.

The Captain did nothing except watch while you had your moment, but he ultimately made the decision to tug at the sleeve of your dress and usher you out. Your parents could only watch as you casted them once last smile before stepping outside.

Outside the tavern, a magnificent black horse stood waiting, its mane bearing a luscious mane that nearly made you think of the Captain's long black hair. A saddle was placed on top of the horse, accompanied by a large bag that was secured around its hips. Suddenly you felt a pair of large hands wrapped around your waist, causing you to let out a loud shriek as you attempted to turn around.

"...I am merely trying to assist you."

You could feel Capitano's broad chest pressing into your back and his frigid breath brushing the top of your head as his deep voice could be heard. He lifted you carefully onto the horse's back and gently set you down.

Ah, how embarrassing.

A reddish tone flushing onto your face as you cough into your hand, trying to play it off.

"My apologies, I was suddenly started because of some bug."

Of course he didn't think you were genuine. Without saying a word, he climbed up onto the horse's back and positioned himself behind you, his arms reaching out to seize the bridle. Because of his proximity, you unconsciously tensed up. Despite the metallic stench that emanated from him, he actually had an alluring scent. One that reminded you of the expensive Cologne that your cousins would brag of, boasting at how much it costs him. Another scent was more eerily, it was the scent of blood. You weren't exposed to blood on a daily basis, but you have smelt it a couple times before. But you supposed it's expected from a warrior.

Together with the Fatui soldiers, you set out on your voyage through the frigid nighttime air. You were forced to tighten your grip on your coat since the air seemed significantly colder than normal. Although the majority of the Captain's body seemed abnormally cool, you were nevertheless grateful that it somehow gave you enough heat to prevent you from freezing to death. The Captain seemed relatively unfazed by the frigid air, his breathing remaining steady while everyone else was shivering.

You wondered if he was even truly a human being.

Crickets continue to chirp throughout the night, the moon casting its radiance across the land, supplying a tiny source of illumination through the world of darkness. It seems like hours have already passed, and you've been wondering how far you are from your parents' tavern, feeling a sense of rather discomfort at the thought of having to be separated from your home.

The sound of the horses galloping managed to keep you from dozing off even though your eyelids were getting heavier by each second, struggling to stay awake.

"If you feel exhausted, you can take a nap."

The unexpected tone of Capitano's low voice brushed against your ear, leading you to jump up in surprise. He couldn't see you, so you wondered how he could tell you were drifting off. Although he had to grasp onto the bridle for a prolonged period of time, he wasn't even exhausted. You don't remember him removing your arms from your form; in fact, they've been brushing up against you throughout the entire ride.

You couldn't help but close your eyes and rest against the man's chest in an attempt to fall asleep, despite the fact that you were still rather weary of him.

But a little nap won't hurt, right?

You eventually find a comfortable position after a few more minutes of shuffling. The sound of the galloping horses gradually faded from your awareness as you eventually drifted off to sleep, praying in the back of my mind that this was just a nightmare that you could wake up from.

Your attention is drawn to a faint voice that smoothly enters your ear just as you start to nod off. However, you were unable to properly understand who it was from or whether you had simply lost consciousness, and it was a fragment of your dreams.

"Rest well, my Saintess."

You do hope that you will be able to get a good night's sleep and awaken on your bed rather than in the captain's arms.

But you don't think that's even possible now.

As the days went by, you started to long for the cosiness of your own house, primarily your dear parents. The journey hasn't been that difficult, but your thighs were terribly sore and one of the Fatui members told you that since you're an inexperienced rider, your body is bound to become sore.

Only every few days did the party halt to rest, setting up a tiny camp from which everyone would scatter in search of food to bring back for later. However, you were forbidden from leaving the camp and had to stay in your tent, completely bored, with a companion at all times.

Your meal wasn't all that horrible, and it wasn't best you've ever had. It is, however, genuinely something. Unexpectedly, you received adequate care from Fatui as well. The majority of them either avoided you completely or were hesitant to strike up small talk, but once they get into the mood, they become unstoppable. You would have thought them to be rather ordinary individuals if it weren't for your unfortunate circumstance.

Contrarily, Capitano stayed by your side the majority of the day and was practically silent. He only spoke to you when he felt it was essential. Even being with another Fatui agent would have been preferable to being with a foreboding man who didn't appear to fully comprehend the notion of personal space.

At first you thought it was nothing.

However, he would stand excessively close to your side, occasionally rubbing up against you with his physique. When you tried to move away to speak with another agent, he would sometimes reach out and grab your arms to inform you that you can't leave the tent.

There were only ten members of the unit, hence no female agents were sent on the journey. Consequently, Capitano—you guessed it—was the one who assisted you with sanitary conditions. He wasn't the most considerate person, though; always forcefully handing you your new freshest wardrobe, seemingly annoyed at how he was the one forced to deliver it to you.

Another wonderful development was that, as a result of Capitano's relentless lectures, your divine ability had started to surface. Even while it was a little unusual to experience a warm sensation running through your body every time you used the power, being able to treat minor scrapes and bruises felt somewhat satisfying.

According to Capitano, you were six days into your expedition today, but it seemed like a painful six months to you. It even started to snow, covering the land with a light blanket of white ice. Capitano had left the area, saying he had some matters to attend to while entrusting another agent with you. It's an agent you haven't spoken to before. He stooped awkwardly by your side, attempting to stand up straight while holding his arms behind his back.

"You could sit down if you want."

The man appeared to stiffen beneath your voice as you spoke, his eyes obviously examining the seat as if it was alluring him at every angle.

"It's unprofessional for an agent to be sitting while performing his duties."

"Suit yourself."

You huffed and leaned back against the chair, closing your eyes in an effort to lose yourself in your thoughts. Your mind had a sudden flash of inspiration. This is the ideal time to run away. The majority of the other agents were probably in the woods at this point, and the agent who is with you appears to be still very new to the position. Swallowing your own anxiety, you turned towards the agent.

"I need to use the bathroom."

Before responding, the agent mulled over what you had said and threw you a quick glance while maintaining his lips pursed into a narrow line. You nevertheless devised a different justification because you knew that he would probably reject your demand.

"I'm on my period."

He shut his mouth fast at what you said, then scratched his temples and let out a low groan.

"Alright, but make it quick alright?"

You grinned and said, "Thanks," before dashing out into the outdoors and scanning the surroundings from both directions. Even if you felt somewhat awful about conniving the Fatui agent in that way, you had to get away right away. You weren't sure if you'll be blessed with this sort of opportunity after this.

It's safe.

Without turning around, you sprint into the woods, oblivious to the Fatui agent's cries as he pursues you. But you appeared to have a much stronger desire to flee than the new recruit, as you outran him and hurried into the woods.His cries grew quieter as you got farther away from him until going away entirely.

You pause, panting, and lay both of your hands upon your knees to catch your breath. As you slouched against the tree, your chest was heaving up and down as you attempted to calm your thumping heart.

Maybe you should exercise more.

You lingered in the area for a few more minutes before getting up swiftly since you didn't want to spend any more time, considering the Fatui were still present. Perhaps they're even searching for you as we speak now. Wandering through the woods, you honestly have no idea where you were even. You actually never travelled in your life because your parents had largely kept you on their land, paranoid that you would somehow get yourself in some sort of danger.

But you were determined to make it out alive.

Or so you assumed. You've now passed the same rock four times in a succession, if memory serves. You sat down while leaning against a rock and letting out a frustrated grumble as you felt somewhat hopeless after having been lost for more than thirty minutes.

Were you even going to make it out alive?

Given that you were still in the Fatui hunters' territory, you were genuinely astonished that no agents had found you. Even more shocked that no one had yet mistaken you for an animal and shot an arrow through you.

Your ears were suddenly filled with a gentle rumbling sound. It originated from a small distance ahead of the rock you were perched on. You curiously glance over the rock to see whether you could detect the source of the sound. A group of wolves were huddled together in a tight circle, appearing to be nibbling on some kind of dead animal. You wince as you observe the dead animal's blood gushing into the snow-covered ground, and the intestine leaking from its stomach before one of the wolves devoured it.

In an awkward attempt to escape the wolf pack, you made an effort to slip back down to the rock. But one startlingly looked up from its food and peered right at you, which caused you to experience a feeling of apprehension. Overwhelmed by fear, you didn't take notice of the black ice that covered the ground.

You took a step back, startled, staggering onto your feet at the slippery ice, producing a loud noise as you crashed against the ice. Pain gushing through your body as your head collided with the solid surface, causing you to feel heavily lightheaded for a moment. The wolves suddenly turn to face you, gnawing on their pointed canines as they approach. Similar to how a predator hunts its prey. You desperately wanted to move backward, but you were unable to do so since your hands could not hold onto anything but the slippery ice.

The wolves' snarling grew louder, and one of them positioned itself to pounce on you.

Your last ditch effort to secure your body is to close your eyes while sheltering yourself with your arms. Despite the fact that the beast would only be hampered by the flesh on your arms, nothing but ineffective.

"..."

However, the agonising pain you were anticipating never materialised; instead, the sound of something heavy collapsing into a snowbank and the agonising cries of wolves resonated in the air.

As you slowly open your eyes, you realize that the Captain's tall frame was obstructing the sunlight from reaching your skin, almost reminding you of some sort of dark angel. His gloved hands were firmly grasping a sword, his brilliant blade stained red which you would presume is blood. The wolf that attempted to attack you earlier lay wounded on the ground, whimpering softly as blood seeped from its wound.

You almost felt pity for the beast.

The other wolves merely stayed there, apparently transfixed, as they all glared at the tall man. It appeared that they were a little apprehensive to leave one of its pack behind as they made their departure, seemingly having the ability to sense the danger within the harbinger.

Silence persisted through the cold air.

The tall structure of Capitano towered over your tiny frame as you could only look up at him as he turned to face you, expecting him to scold you or maybe even murder you right then and there. Only then did he lower himself and sling his sword back around his belt. Before lifting you into the air, his hands encircled your back and knees, keeping you in a steady position against his chest.

"....Aren't you angry at me?"

You questioned as he carried you back to the camp; his steps were fairly deliberate and he paid you no mind at all. Despite the fact that he remained silent, you could still sense a small amount of fury emanating from him.

The Captain halted his progress before responding to your question. His voice was noticeably colder than usual, nearly causing you to shudder as if a gust of cold wind had caressed your face.

"I am. Escorting you back to the camp in safety, however, is my first responsibility at the moment."

With the exception of a few wolf howls and bird chirps, the remainder of the trek back to the camp was eerily quiet. You weren't sure whether it was just your imagination, but you felt Capitano's right arm was holding you more tightly than normal. Normally, he would handle you with the utmost patience, making sure to treat you like a glass statue whenever he touched you.

Within a short distance, the faces of the Fatui agents emerged. The Fatui agent who had been with you earlier was sitting by the fire outdoors with his mask lifted and a deep gash on each cheek. His clothes, which were visibly torn, were covered with blood from his wound. His hair was ruffled, showing signs of struggles and you were sure that he must have been punished for allowing you out. You attempt to make eye contact with him, but he clumsily pulls his gaze away, as if he was fearful of the man who was supporting you.

A wave of shame shoots through your body.

If given the chance, perhaps you could offer to heal him afterwards. See it as a way to repay your sins. Capitano pushes through the cloth opening and carefully places you up against the chair. You recoil like a frightened bird as his gloved hands reach out to caress your forehead.

You silently gasped as he withdrew his hands for you to see the crimson blood that stains on his glove. The muscular man grabs your fingers and presses them firmly against your gushing forehead, prompting you to stare at him in confusion.

"Heal yourself."

However, you were unsure about how to proceed. You were able to heal others, but you've never attempted to heal yourself because you assumed your abilities didn't function in that way.

"I…I don't know how to."

The hold on his fingers grew a little tighter when you muttered. You can feel the firmness within his palm, but not enough for it to injure you.

"Why not? I would have imagined that you could accomplish something as simple as this, given how determined you were to escape from this place."

His comments caused your face to flush, your hand falling back onto your lap as he grip around them loosened. You half-hoped that Capitano would tend to your wounds as he stooped to examine them. However, his hands just swung at your neck, barely grabbing it and preventing your windpipe from being crushed.

Yet, you were absolutely afraid.

You panicked and reached out to grab his wrist, trying to drag him away, Capitano merely watched you struggle. Your fingers could only helplessly dragged against his gloved hands, his arms simply not budging even if you used all your effort.

He finally releases your neck while studying your fingers grasping for it, as if he had just choked you to death while the reality was that he didn't even exert an inch of his strength.

"You are struggling for your life despite the fact that I hardly even harmed you."

You could only look up at him with your doe eyes as you continued to heave, feeling like you were choking on something.

Hardly? You had no doubt that the man was out to get you and was silently begging for your demise. And now he's revealing that he barely employed any strength into his grip?

"You are so meek and frail, like a bird. You nevertheless pursue freedom even with that weak body."

The weak person was you, right? Was the man standing in front of you simply too powerful, or what? How could a young woman who hardly leaves her house be compared to a general who has spent years fighting on the front lines? A person with bloody hands shouldn't be challenged, and you knew this.

"How admiring."

He mumbled before gently, almost affectionately, caressing your cheeks with his palm. Treating you like some sort of small animal that had just been transferred in ownership.

"How foolish."

His fingers fumbled to brush a strand of your disheveled hair behind your ears, exposing your forehead, which still bore a scar from your earlier struggles. Carefully, he brushed his fingertips across the scar, watching as you hissed out in pain.

"I hope this serves as a lesson about just how helpless a creature you really are. Even defending or mending oneself is beyond your capacity."

His lengthy fingers continued to trace the shape of your wound as you could only nod in agreement and close your eyes. You were visibly shaken by the blood that was pouring from your forehead, but you were too terrified to speak. Afraid that the man in front of you would finally lose his last streak of patience.

Yes, Il Capitano was clearly deserving of the moniker of "Harbinger." A Harbinger foreshadowed your bedridden fate, an anticipatory sign of what is to come.

A Harbinger that foreshadowed your misery.

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theinnerunderrain · 2 years

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Harbinger of Misery [Yan! Capitano x Saintess! Reader]

Harbinger: something that foreshadows a future event; something that gives an anticipatory sign of what is to come.

Word count: 5.8k

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