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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

Note

Oohh I see you write for wonderlab abnos! Can i request yandere hcs for Blue Smocked Shepherd? Thank u for your hard work and thank u for reblogging cursed big bird fanarts :)

Before you read, head's up. There will be mentions of dark content:

animal abuse, manipulation, possessive behavior, and of course, a yandere

I don't intend to lighten certain aspects of these things, so do take heed.

Extra: Project Moon said it's up to our interpretation what the Shepherd's gender is, and considering they are based on the Boy Who Cried Wolf, I imagine they are male (or at the very least, more masculine in form). I'm not sure if that means it is up to the reader's decision to choose what to refer to them as, but for the sake of simplicity, I just refer to this Abnormality as he/him.

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⸸ F-01-?? (The Blue-Smocked Shepherd) -- Yandere Headcanons ⸸

"I spy with my little eye a lil lamb talking to a big, bad wolf. Do you think I lie when I say you shouldn't trust anyone in this place?"

The Shepherd was, and always had been, untrustworthy. His truths will always be twisted, doubled in meaning to the point of being incomprehensible. But the moment he is being honest, be afraid.

The Shepherd will make you understand that lies are often better than the truth.

⸸ On the grand scheme of things, nothing would change. Everyone knows how terrible he is in canon, and that much still applies to him as a yandere.

⸸ He would still be a dog abuser and a liar, and he would still find joy disregarding the feelings of others.

⸸ But once his possessiveness finally reveals itself, that is when you'll realize just how good of a liar he can be when he really tries. Because chances are, you wouldn't even know what this Abnormality is thinking.

⸸ You will perpetually feel as if he is playing some sort of mind game with you--because he is. But this would be different from his usual ones. Rather than warning you of breaches, he is...conversing with you. Or at least, that's what it seems like on the surface, but of course, nothing good ever comes from talking with him.

⸸ What may seem like innocent questions about your day will lead to insults disguised as teasing comments, which then lead to him somehow tearing down your self-esteem.

⸸ Another facet I find interesting about the Shepherd is his absurd level of awareness over the other Abnormalities. Because of it, I imagine he would be one of the very few with a high level of lucidity.

⸸ He would be far from being delusional, and it is his mental clarity that would make him so, so terrifying to go against.

You could easily fool a delusional puppy into listening to you with the right words and actions...but how would you convince someone who knows you hate them...but simply doesn't care?

⸸ The Shepherd, being the guardian of the flock that he claims to be, would know everything about his Darling's routine. He would know where you are, what you are and will be doing, and which Abnormality you will work on. Nothing you do can be kept a secret from the him.

⸸ He wouldn't care if you worked on most Abnormalities. Most of them are pathetic or pitiful, anyway, and none of them could ever attain the same attention (paranoia) and deep feelings (hatred) you hold for him.

⸸ But heavens forbid if you pay any sort of attention on that sorry excuse of a wolf, that stupid dog that cannot even decide or do anything for itself.

⸸ It doesn't deserve your care and affection. That idiot is already beyond saving. It cannot even die. Why waste your breath?

⸸ Rather fortunate that you have...what was it you called it, a 'heart'? That very same thing you are proud of, the Shepherd will use against you. I hope you can stand to see your precious little buddy massacring down the entire facility.

~~~ End ~~~

Message to Anon: Hehe, I'm happy to know someone loves these cursed gems as much as I do. And if you have read this far, I would like to just say that I am very happy to see you hanging around, Anon! I'd love to see you stick around for more! Feel free to send requests for whomever or simply just to stop by and share. I'm just...obsessed with Project Moon...

#yandere headcanons #yandere blue smocked shepherd #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere lobotomy corp #yandere lobcorp #yandere wonderlab #yandere project moon #unknown classification #love-eldritch

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

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Following the request of Anon here...

Apologies. Due to a technical glitch, I couldn't answer this request directly. I already reported my problem to Tumblr

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⸸ Devotion ⸸

(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where the Manager thought he could save the facility by sacrificing the Twelfth Apostle, but Bean Boi did the Reverse Uno card on him. OOC and fanon to be expected because I am not going to bother writing his dialogue into Elizabethan English.)

Characters: WhiteNight (Lobotomy Corporation), Gender Neutral Love Interest (refers to themself as the 'Agent', while WN them 'Twelfth Apostle' or 'Heretic'), the Manager/Ayin (only in mentioning, referred to as 'the Shepherd' by WN)

Warning/Dead Dove - Do Not Eat/Mature Audiences Only: physical abuse, slight violence/terror, mature/dark themes (read the contains list)

Contains: unhealthy established relationship, controlling behavior, WhiteNight has an overwhelming fear of betrayal, victim-blaming, mentioned suicide attempt (as per the canon Heretic), mild angst,

Word Count: 1200+

Description: He no longer remembered how many Apostles he had loved, had lost, nor how long ago he had come to this facility. Years? Centuries? Millennia? Many times throughout, he had tried to save them. All of them. For every cycle, a new clock was built with the names of the new Apostles.

"Dear."

Voice as soft as the white feathers of his wings rang clear throughout the containment unit.

"I still remember our vows from last week. How you promised that you would forever love me. That I, and I alone, would be the only one to receive your faith and devotion. Really, it feels like you just told me those yesterday."

The holy entity spoke so dreamily as he paced around the room. Behind him, the hem of his long, white robes flowed so smoothly like water over the concrete floor. To the human observer, it would seem unnatural how graceful his body was. Every flutter of his lashes, his wings, his posture, and even the way he held his chin up so regally felt otherworldly.

Every action was performed so beautifully. Anyone that sees him might as well be looking at an oil painting come to life.

But that beautiful portrait changed into something disconcerting—something sinister—when his eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes that foreshadowed the massacre that will ensue from his 'Salvation'.

What a bloody contrast against his angelic face.

His Twelfth Apostle was kneeling on the floor before him, eyes gouged out, and their skin a deathly shade of white.

"But what about you?" he asked, tilting his head their way. The Heretic squirmed slightly as they 'saw' his gaze turn toward them. "Do you remember?"

WhiteNight had expected this to happen. It always did with the Twelfth Apostles. The first one betrayed him for a pouch of silver coins that the men of Caesar promised. The second had abandoned him for some lesser creature they called the new 'God', and as for the third...well.

He just stopped keeping track by that point.

He knew from the very beginning what would become of a union like this. They were the tenth, the hundredth—no, thousandth Twelfth Apostle he blessed.

This human wasn't any different, but like a fool, he willingly blinded himself because he 'loved' them.

"It was in a different facility, I believe. One of the ones at the Upper Layer? I was still donning the façade of what you called a ZAYIN. But now, you are uncertain of what I am, aren't you? Not even your precious Shepherd seem to understand what I am."

The human's fearful gaze answered his question. By now, they should be realizing the true scale of his power. Did they really believe that healing was the only miracle he could create?

"What is with that look? I don't plan on harming anyone, child. Do you not believe me?"

He walked toward them, only stopping to get down on one knee to see his beloved apostle eye-to-eye. His pale hand reached for those loose strands of hair. He had always affectionately tucked behind their ears before. So, why now did something like this make them flinch?

He could only stare, dumbstruck, at the human leaning away from his touch, before the room darkened.

The lights dimmed, flickered as purple mist begun to overtake the room.

That was his last straw.

Dropping all pretenses of gentleness, the Abnormality violently snatched their chin, forcing them to face him when they tried to back away. They grasped at his arm, his chest, his waist. Their now mutated nails were scratching and digging too deeply into the soft flesh of his mortal body.

Of course, it was futile.

Mortal he may look in this form, a single flesh wound would never be enough to kill him. If it were, then the first betrayal should have been his last.

"I really did have faith in you," he said, voice as dark as his eyes. "Even though you were the last of the Apostles...even though you took the longest to understand my mission—" ...I truly did hope that we would one day see the world the same way.

He spoke in a tone most might believe as composed, but deep down, he was anything but. There was a tempest swirling about within him, feelings so powerful that even he was surprised by how much they were affecting him.

For a being who thought himself higher than the vermin he ought to 'save', it was distasteful how much he was acting like them.

It was his fault, really.

In the first place, he should have lowered his standards and expectations.

He was the fool for wanting to believe in a fantasy. That somehow, this little mortal would be able to break the cycle of trust and betrayal the first Twelfth Apostle had begun.

It was all so foolish that he wanted to laugh at himself. How could they possibly achieve something as grandiose as that when they couldn't even leave the time loop their precious Shepherd had trapped them in?

The Abnormality's hands hovered down their neck before wrapping tightly around their throat. Given their condition, the Apostle couldn't even cry. Without eyes, all their tears just pooled at the back of their socket.

How befitting for a heretic, he mused.

"Shh. Hush now." The gentleness of his voice was a great contrast to the cruelty his hands were displaying.

As he wanted, the Heretic shut their mouth into a thin line, fear taking over the pain. He could still hear them hicking and sobbing, but at least they were trying to contain themselves.

In the past, seeing them flinch even just a little from his touch was enough to make his heart crack. If that version of himself saw his beloved human falling apart like this, he would be heartbroken.

But this version of him felt nothing.

The only reason he could even tell they were weeping was through the choked ugly sobs coming out of their lips, and the snot streaming down their nose. It was such an ugly sight that it made the corner of his lips curl up in disdain.

"Weren't you already planning to hang yourself? What difference would my hand make?" WhiteNight asked in mock jester. "Do you detest me so much that you would rather off yourself than die under my cause?"

Without warning, he suddenly released them, making them ungracefully collapse onto the concrete floor. As they laid there, panting and gasping for air, they would flinch ever so slightly whenever their fingers grazed over the bruising circles on their neck.

Still, he felt nothing.

"To be honest, I predicted that you would one day turn away from me for some con."

He couldn't help but frown slightly at the last word. Just thinking about the false messiah with the crown of thorns made him sick.

"You humans had always been so fickle. Something like this can no longer surprise me. Yet...here we are. Even though I knew this was inevitable...even though I knew I could never truly call you mine...I—"

He stopped midway, forcing the words that wanted to come out of his mouth into silence.

It was unlike him to be this flustered. He should be eloquent, composed, just, as befitting of someone with divine power. He should never be acting this pitiful.

The Agent, as if noticing the sudden plummeting of his mood, looked up, only to notice something flicker behind his eyes. But before they could so much as decipher it, the atmosphere of the room changed.

No longer did it hold the malicious intent of an Abnormality, nor the purple mist from earlier.

It was all just red now.

"If you ever betray me again, heed the words of your Shepherd over mine...I don't know if I'll be able to show mercy."

~~~ End ~~~

This was requested such a long time ago...oh my. I hope it isn't too late. (My sincerest apologies, Anon... ;-; )

As you can probably tell, 'save' is just a euphemism for 'exterminate'. In my fanon, WhiteNight (much like Blue Star) considers genocide a solution. Humanity is already heading towards its own destruction, so wouldn't it be more merciful to end it all before all their sins become unforgivable?

(I am no expert when it comes to abusive relationships or cults. It would be better for you to be informed about these from reliable sources.)

#yandere writing #yandere snippet #yandere whitenight #yandere plague doctor #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere lobotomy corp #yandere lobcorp #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere scenario #yandere #love-eldritch #yandere angel #eldritch love #yandere monster

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

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Hi hello I'm desprate for WhiteNight content😭

Hello. Welcome. You aren't alone. I, too, am desperate for WhiteNight content.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

⸸ You Will Need Me ⸸

( Based on the headcanon I wrote for O-01-45, Plague Doctor.)

Description: The Doctor lied to you, deceived you, and if that wasn't all, he took the only person that made this place bearable. You will never return to his side ever again, but do you think that will stop him from wanting you back?

Added Scenario: You are an Agent with a high Justice level, so naturally, the Manager sent you to do Suppression work on WhiteNight

Warning: Christian themes and cults, mentioned death, suicide (from Heretic confession), victim shaming

Word Count: + 1 200

A black fedora. A beak mask.

Beneath those and his heavy coat, no one knew who, or what was hidden beneath all those layers. But what they did know, it was his warmth, his kindness, and a love that he so freely gave to everyone.

A love that many of the Agents desperately wanted. You would never admit it, but you were one of those people. You trusted him.

No, to say that would be inaccurate. You were desperate to trust him.

Because looking back, you were overlooking all of the warning signs, feigning ignorance to all the wrongness of his actions. You have noticed how many have left the Doctor's unit: red-faced, euphoric, and intoxicated despite having brought no drugs with them.

But then, O-03-03 warned you: "Stay away from that creature."

Ever since, the bubble of mystique surrounding the Doctor popped. The rose-tinted glasses had shattered, and all that left for you to see was an Abnormality.

An Abnormality you were beginning to doubt was a ZAYIN.

Still, you wanted to believe in him. Even when he began to drop his black clothes in exchange for lighter, whiter ones. Even when you were noticing delusions of grandeur and martyrdom in his words. Not even the Beast's number on his collar convinced you.

You really, really wanted to believe in him. Almost to the point of being just as blind as his cult followers.

"I did tell you, didn't I?" O-01-45--no. T-03-46, or as data entry now said, WhiteNight, gently swayed up and down as he lazily floated a few feet off the floor. "The day will come that I will save you. I am certain I foretold you."

"Save us from what?" You couldn't help but balk in disgust. "You massacred more than half of the facility. You killed everyone in my team! Some of your followers were my friends, and you...you! You turned them into those...things!"

"You cannot fault them for seeking companionship, <Name>. They were lonely souls trapped in a slaughterhouse. They didn't want to become attached to someone who will soon be on the butchering block, but I am permanent. Deathless. Eternal. With me, they wouldn't have to fear such things."

"So, you put them on the butchering block instead?"

"Worthy is the lamb who was slain," his lips parted to show a toothy smile. "My Apostles deserved all the power and wisdom they received, and the honor they shall receive afterwards."

You opened your mouth, ready to scream at him. But what would be the point? He was so far up in his own delusions that you would only be wasting your breath.

T-03-46 tilted his head, perhaps curious for your silence, perhaps to mock you for your ignorance. His thick lashes that fanned over his cheek fluttered open a little, and it took your all not to flinch at the redness of his eyes.

"Ah, but there was that heretic." T-03-46 sat up midair, crossing his legs gracefully as he did so.

You glared at the mentioning of your friend. "You don't get to call them that."

"Ah. Perhaps I missed the truth. You are not here for the Rapture. You are here for them, aren't you?"

"Yes." You raised your head, looking at him head on. "What other reason should I have to come see you?"

A thick fog begin to flow into the room. It was cool, lighter than the air in the room, yet it sunk down to the floor where it hid your feet.

As the Doctor, he had been difficult to read. As the Doctor, he could keep his emotions hidden behind an affable mask. But in this form, where his powers were always on display for everyone to see, he was far more predictable.

And right now, you know you had just angered him.

"What a shame. For you to waste your loyalty and heart on that sinner. Tell me, what is it about them that you love so much? They betrayed your trust as much as they did mine. And when it all became too much, they confessed to that false prophet with the thorns, and hung themselves. They could have never offered you the release you so desperately want. They couldn't even save themselves...so, how could they possibly have saved you?"

"That is true. They are just human after all. A weak, sinful little human that willingly brought themselves to this hell, but so am I. I chose to work for this place. Not you. Not some higher being. Not any monster that thinks of themselves as a god."

Still, his face remained neutral. You weren't digging deep enough.

"Have you still not gotten it, yet? I. Don't. Need you."

And that was when a bloody mist engulfed the entire room, enveloping you in its cold embrace. Faintly, you could see what seemed to be gears and cogs in your peripherals. You could never tell for certain as they moved as your eyes moved.

You glanced back at T-03-46, delighted to see how much darker his eyes had become.

"Oh, you lost soul." He shook his head the same way a gentle parent would at a child's misdeed. "What makes you skeptical? So wary and hesitant to believe in me? Was it the Doctor's mask? My healing gifts, and abilities? Or were you unimpressed by my miracles? Because believe me, <Name>, the Rapture is only a fraction of the great things I can do."

At the thought of that, the image of the world falling into chaos and ruin popped up in your mind. His Apostles would be setting fire onto everything in their way, turning not only L-Corp's district into an inferno, but the entire City. But at the center of it all would be a light so bright, more vibrant and blinding than the fires. He would shine brighter than the sun itself, making the night white.

You raised your chin, looking at him head on. "You are nothing to me."

Then, for the very first time since the white fog appeared in his unit, his eyes twitched. But just as you thought he was finally going to release his murderous intent on you, the room shifted back to its normal lighting. The air was no longer a bloody hue, and the fog retreated back to wherever it came from.

He began to giggle, which then morphed into a loud, manic laughter.

"You say that, but I know deep down that you need me. You may refuse me all you want, but you can never change the truth that you! Are trapped here!"

The angelic abomination giggled some more, greatly amused by your predicament, but you ignored it.

The Manager sent you here because he believed in you--or at the very least, your self-discipline. You would be letting this Abnormality win if you allow his words to goad a reaction out of you.

You were grateful to hear the familiar click of the door unlocking. It seemed that you have managed to finish your task. And with a Good result, at that, as the PE boxes you counted afterwards were tremendous.

Another work done successfully without a breach, you thought in relief.

But as you left his containment unit, you felt his bloody-red eyes follow you.

Unless this day ends, you would never cease to feel as though another Rapture is bound to happen.

~ ~ ~ End ~ ~ ~

So, about his sudden shift in mood towards the end there? WhiteNight favours Suppression work, and I have no other explanation for it asides from sheer arrogance.

This Abnormality really believes in himself so much that he would simply find your refusal to believe in him cute and amusing.

#whitenight #yandere whitenight #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere project moon #lobotomy corporation #lobcorp #lobotomy corp #ALEPH class #Abnormalities

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

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The Silent Orchestra (Yandere)

I cannot seem to stop thinking about the Silent Orchestra.

I see them as being the most poetic of all the ALEPHs as Yanderes, purely because there is no winning for both them and their Darling Agent. Because when one is the Composer, the Player, and Conductor for the end of the world, there is bound to be conflicts in interests with their very human, very much living Darling.

To finally release someone from their worldly worries and hardships by playing one last show befor before they depart. That is their reason for existing, and the Conductor sees to it that they do this in a way worthy of applause. Should the Conductor get what he wants, the Agent will die no matter what. To bring about the end to all things is their purpose, and their Darling is no exception. If anything, that only adds more fuel to the fire.

Death was the only way to fix what they did wrong. Surely, their Beloved deserved this much.

And if this Darling had any ounce of self-preservation..?

The Agent might feel sympathy, or even reciprocate their feelings of love and care. But what did that matter? So long as they continued refusing to listen to their music, continued depriving them of the applause or the smallest sliver of attention, all the human would be able to do was hurt them.

#yandere silent orchestra #the silent orchestra #ALEPH #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere #yandere lobotomy corporation #lobotomy corp #lobotomy corporation #lobcorp #project moon

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

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I'm interested in seeing your HCs about singing machine! :O

Anthropomorphized Singing Machine...hmm.

What I came up with was...

⸸ O-05-30 (The Siren) ⸸

(A Humanoid AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I turned a singing meat grinder into an android siren. OOC—does this even count as a character though—and fanon are to be expected.)

"Nothing could compare to its singing after it eats the flesh of a human being."

⸸ I imagine the Abnormality being a cross between an android and a siren. As in...it would have the appearance of the former, and the qualities of the latter.

⸸ On the surface, it looks no different from an inferior model. Inferior because it still looked very much like a machine. Its skin was too smooth, too imperfect. Not to mention, it had an industrial greyness to its complexion. Compared to Lobotomy Corporation's head AI, it wouldn't even compare.

⸸ Its reason for its creation is unknown. Unlike the android, 'All-Around Helper', and the iron maiden, 'We Can Change Anything', there is simply no logic for the invention of a singing android.

⸸ However, whatever others think of it doesn't matter. It won't change the fact that it is a sentient creature with a will to live.

⸸ And like all sentient creatures, it has its preferences.

⸸ He could survive on the blood and flesh of animals, of lesser creatures, or whatever those disgusting pellets the facility feeds him, but...was that really living?

"There are many things you humans could survive without. For instance, you don't need seasonings and spices, yet you eat it regardless, because you simply enjoy it more that way. Just like how you are feeding him that trash you call 'food', would you be happy to eat a fruit filled with fruitworms just because it gives you the protein and vitamins you need?"

⸸ For the Abnormality, eating means everything to it. The type of flesh it eats is intrinsic to quality. The more forbidden the fruit, the better.

⸸ I imagine that would be how he first fell in love with his darling agent.

⸸ Perhaps an accident happened during work. Regardless of what happened, they had unknowingly left drops of blood behind, and ever since he got a taste of it, he became...well, obsessed with it.

⸸ The same way weak-minded agents are unable to resist his song, it wouldn't be wrong to say he has an 'addiction' for their flesh.

⸸ For the sake of conflict, let's suppose that his darling agent has great self-control—Temperance level III or higher—and isn't too reckless—Fortitude level III or lower. This way, they won't be immediately eaten by O-05-30.

⸸ It is still unfortunate, however. It would be better (and less painful) if his darling would just come to him willingly.

⸸ To hear him speak, never mind sing, is the best blessing any human could get. So much so, that many have willingly flung themselves to him to be eaten. Anything just to hear his voice.

⸸ And for his darling to reject him like that...one way or another, he will have you.

⸸ They won't even know what happened until they awaken in his arms. Only then would they realize that their fellow agents—the ones bewitched by his song—had dragged their unconscious body to his containment unit.

⸸ If their darling thought being ripped to shreds by his claws and teeth was terrible...then they should see what he had in store for them.

⸸ No, he wouldn't eat them in one sitting. Someone with flesh as delicious as theirs needed to be savoured, and he will make it so that they would stay fresh for as long as possible.

⸸ Surely, the Manager would allow him that much, right? He gets to keep one of his best agents, while he gets to taste pure ambrosia.

⸸ And if that man doesn't want to comply, well...his fans would be more than happy to bring them for him.

"Today is your lucky day, Agent. O-05-30 isn't hungry. Hopefully, you will have the same luck next time!"

#yandere siren #yandere android #yandere singing machine #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere lobotomy corp #yandere lobcorp #yandere monster #yandere cryptid #yandere mythology #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere #yandere imagines #love-eldritch #yandere project moon #yandere x y/n

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

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First of all, this blog of yours is a blessing. Your yandere works are just ♡♡♡♡♡ I cannot even put it on words. Thanks to you, now I know Lobotomy Corporation and I can't get enough of it. I need to know more about this game, the lore, the abnormalities and everything it can offer.

And secondly, I don't know much about Der Freischütz & Funeral of the Dead Butterflies, but can I request a yandere drabbles/one-shot/headcanons about them? I don't play the game (yet) but the second I saw those two, they got my attention (and my heart).

I hope I don't bother you with my request.

P.s: did I already say your writings are just that perfect I can't stop re-reading them?

⸸ The Devilish Marksman and the Caged Butterfly ⸸

(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where a sexy butterfly wants to encase you in his coffin, but the devil said no. OOC and fanon are to be expected.)

Note: read until the end for my person message to Anon.

Love.

Der Freischütz might have been a human once, but he never understood what that thing called 'love' was. It was an alien concept, a subject that he could never hope to understand.

So when he was but a mere human, he scoffed at the Devil.

"The person I love most, you say?" he jeered. "No such person exists."

But it did.

Perhaps he have should known given how much he cared about himself and no one else. At the very least, he should have predicted that the seventh bullet would pierce no one else's heart but his own.

One might think he always had one, given how his iciness seemed to always melt off around his favourite Agent, but no.

First and foremost, he became a Devil because his predecessor saw him for what he was. Heartless.

And as a Devil, it would be an insult to call his soul-binding contract something as fickle and fleeting as 'love'.

He found it rather laughable how humans were so desperate for it. Throughout the millennia, he had seen so many blind themselves with rose-tinted glasses because they couldn't stand the thought of anything tarnishing its image.

But if enabling that blindness would make things easier for him, then who was he to complain?

For his beloved little Contractee, he would do anything to be serviceable. Anything to keep them compliant.

He would protect them, teach them how to best use his EGO equipment and gift, and perhaps even take care of them. He could feign politeness, empathy, offer his condolences when he must, and as you must be beginning to see, the Marksman could even play the role of a charismatic gentleman if he wanted to.

It was a front he never bothered with before, since most of his contracts lasted as long as his bounties did.

But for this one, why not?

Heed my warning, though. Never assume for a moment that he would extend that same hospitality to others. That is a privilege belonging only those bound to him.

He might swear to protect them, doing everything in his power to keep them from danger, but the price was insurmountable. The facility would be drained of its energy, and dozens would die, not only because of his magical bullets, but because of all the collateral damage caused by the breaching of other Abnormalities.

It wouldn't matter though.

Damn everyone to hell if anyone other than him were to kill his Contractee.

They might come running to him, demanding or begging him to cease his slaughter. Perhaps they might even even try to teach or urge him to at the very least feign concern for the lives of others, but he never will.

They were his to protect, but he was never theirs to control.

On the contrary, T-01-68 was...he could never be called pliant, but he was certainly more considerate towards his beloved more than the Devil.

Whereas Der Freischütz was blunt and straightforward with his 'affections', the Butterfly would be careful with his words and gestures. Not because he wanted to earn their trust, but because he genuinely wanted to avoid causing them any more unnecessary pain.

God knows how much they had to endure on a daily basis already.

It was well-known across the facility that T-01-68 existed to comfort those left behind, to honor the ones who passed away that didn't have anyone to remember them. It would simply be antithetical of him to hurt his beloved.

He was the shoulder they could cry on. When they wanted to run away from everything, they would come to his containment unit seeking sanctuary.

Not that Devil.

Deep down, the Butterfly was grateful for Der Freischütz being the way he was (and the rest of the Abnormalities for that matter). If not for his crass ways and bloodlust, their little Agent would have never come to him on their own volition.

He could never hurt them.

That was what he truly seemed to believe as he chased after his beloved down the winding hallways, actively seeking them out so he could finally rest their body inside his coffin.

This place was hell. Wasn't the Devil's presence enough confirmation for that? All these monsters, all these fanatics like WhiteNight and Blue Star promised salvation, but their ways were no less gruesome from the other abominations they swore to save their followers from.

While he would never call himself a god, he certainly believed that he was the only one who could truly give them the peace they needed.

If he must kill his beloved himself to keep that promise, he would.

The two would never see eye-to-eye, that much they had long come to accept. For the Marksman, T-01-68 was a headache to deal with, while the Undertaker found F-01-69 utterly difficult to tolerate.

Der Freischutz wanted to keep them alive. They were his to keep.

But the Butterfly wanted to give them the dignified death they deserved. It was the reason why they came to such a hellish place in the first place.

They both had a reason, and neither one were willing to give up.

~~~ End ~~~

First of all, I would like to say thank you, thank you, thank you!

And it's no bother at all. I love to write headcanons, especially snippets, drabbles, and short fics, so I am more than happy to. Honestly, I'm just surprised I didn't get requests from these two, considering how popular they are among the fandom.

P.S: Did I already tell you how much reading this makes me happy? I'd love to see the fandom for this game grow bigger.

#yandere der freischütz #yandere funeral of the dead butterflies #yandere abnormalities #yandere lobotomy corp #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere lobcorp #yandere project moon #yandere male #yandere monsters #yandere cryptids #yandere demons #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere snippet #love-eldritch

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

Text

⸸ The Beholder, the Arbiter, and the Executioner ⸸

(A Yandere AU where I turned the Black Forest Birbs of Lobotomy Corporation into controlling eldritch husbands. OOC and fanon are to be expected.)

Characters: Big Bird/O-02-40, Judgement Bird/O-02-62, and Punishment Bird/O-02-56, GN L-Corp Agent (S/O)

Contains: anthropomorphized Abnormalities, the birds are brothers, polyamory (at least their attempt at it), slight codependency, unhealthy relationships, jealousy, possessiveness, mentions of torture, controlling behavior, intimidation, power imbalance, domination

Description: I said at some point about writing the idea of the birds sharing a darling, and now, I finally have. Well, here it is, loves.

Word Count: 1500+

It was an agreement. An arrangement of sorts. One that left the brothers pondering, wondering if this was truly the right decision.

Unsurprisingly, it was Judgement Bird that proposed the idea. The little one was too jealous and demanding to ever think of it, and the brawnier of them all wasn’t the sort to take the initiative. But of course, even the fair avian had trouble accepting it. As much as he liked to play the role of a fair sage, the Bird of Judgement had his reservations.

Unfortunately, this was the only solution that most of them could benefit from, and the only one of the two that included him. Had he been more selfless, perhaps he might have allowed his brothers to do what they will with the human. But no.

He wanted his share.

Understandably, the target of their affections couldn’t care less about the conclusion they have come to. They were doomed either way, regardless of who got to keep them. Having three ‘guardians’ didn’t change much from anything they already did as an Agent.

But at least they still had Big Bird

Out of the three, the human found O-02-40 the easiest to approach. Gentle, kind, afraid. It was rather immoral to take advantage of his timidity, but they would be lying if they said they didn’t feel empowered by it.

It was ironic, really. Despite being a monster, he was the one who would cling onto them like a baby chick would to its mother. Then, he would ask them about the bloodstains, about the tears on their uniform, and-was that another Abnormality's EGO gift?

The entire time, his heavy, ink-black arms would be wrapped around their waist, holding them close to his chest.

“Had the beast come?”

His grip would loosen slightly only after seeing them shake their head with a smile.

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

It was quite obvious that the Agent favoured him. Not that the human would choose from any of them if they had a choice on the matter, but this was enough.

Enough to make him burn with pride and make his eyes shine more radiantly than gold.

Enough to make the other two green with envy.

He won’t deny that he was scatterbrained, but his skull wasn’t so thick that he couldn’t notice the red glint in his brother’s eyes whenever he and their beloved were together. Punishing Bird had always been that sibling who wanted more than what everyone had.

Perhaps once, he always gave in to his brother, but for once, the hulking avian was adamant about keeping his share.

Big Bird was a compassionate creature at heart. It was why he could never deny his brothers, even if he knew they were only manipulating him to get what they wanted. This time, however, his desire to protect the human was stronger.

How convenient. It made his chest warm that the human preferred him over the others—even if it was because they had no choice. That alone was enough reason for him to be…selfish.

If the many-eyed avian wasn’t asking about the ‘Beast’, then he was inquiring the human about their work, about the various Abnormalities they had met up with, and of course, the Birds.

“How are they doing? Is his neck still aching? I bet it is with that terrible posture of his.”

“Has Little B returned what he stole from you yet? Hehe, I saw you frantically searching around the facility for it, silly. Of course, I know.”

“Those scars around your neck. Did he…no, no, you would have told me if he did.”

“They hadn’t done anything to hurt you at all…right?”

He might attempt to play it off as simple, ‘brotherly’ concern, but his unblinking eyes said otherwise.

This was how the Agent discovered that he was capable of being manipulative. Not that they found it worth fretting about. The hulking avian was still the epitome of a birdbrain. Just say nothing but positive things about his brothers, and he would back off. That was what the human had been doing for a long time now, and it always worked.

At leas that was what the Agent preferred to believe.

Every time they left his containment unit, they would swear they saw the glow in his eyes dim.

They could only wonder just how much of his ignorance was genuine…and how much of it was feigned.

But O-02-56 was…different.

For someone whose eldritch form looked like a swab of cotton, the Abnormality was a wrecking ball. A force to be reckoned with. He hated to be belittled, so he became someone who could bite off more than he needed.

He and Big Bird were complete opposites.

Punishing Bird was, true to his name, fueled by retribution. Nothing brought the fair-feathered avian greater satisfaction than inflicting divine punishment on those he deemed a sinner. Whereas his brother felt genuine concern for the welfare of others, he was just vindictive.

But was that really the case? Or was it just bias from the human’s perspective?

No, he really was just that.

There was no deeper meaning behind his cruelty nor actions. There was no sympathetic story to explain as to why he is especially brutal and merciless in his ways. He was just efficient at what he did.

After all, what was punishment but a righteous means of instilling fear?

That wasn’t to say that he was evil. Ultimately, no Abnormality could be truly called that. Such labels only applied to humans. Though they originated from the latter, they were ultimately nothing like them. For instance, could one call an organ extracted from its host ‘human’?

And just like that organ, the Bird of Punishment could only do what it knew best. A heart won’t stop beating until the end even after it left the body, and he won’t stop punishing sinners either, even if he was no longer the Executuoner of the Black Forest.

Disciplining and hurting others still felt natural to him. Not that he would ever do it to his brothers—because in his eyes, they could do no wrong. Pain was just how he showed he cared for others, truly. He only wished the best for everyone, and by inflicting enough of it, he believed he will frighten them away from becoming the Beast.

But as for his beloved?

His very human, very sinful little seedling?

It was almost maddening how much his mouth watered. His true one.

Perhaps it was because he saw the human slacking while on duty, or because they were prone to mental breakdowns at the worst times possible (seeing the death of a friend isn’t an excuse to panic).

Or perhaps it was because he knew, deep down, that his little seedling would never love him?

That rather than a confidant, the human saw him as their captor, tormentor, a scourge in their life?

He knew. The human might try to hide it, but he knew.

It was hard not to when his brother, who they should see as another one of their ‘captors’, was instead treated better. He would dare to even say that Big Bird was the only one they truly liked. They could never conceal the spark in their eyes whenever their manager orders them to come to him. It was…baffling.

So, was it really a wonder why he just itches to hurt them? Why he wants to leave deep, bleeding lines down their back for his brother to see?

‘No fair. You can’t just sign an agreement and reap all the benefits for yourself, big bro.’

He wondered if the human even knew what his brother was truly like. Were they aware that only desperation and a crippling fear of loss lied within him? That had they left him on his own devices, the Beholder would have decapitated them a long time ago?

Punishing Bird would never tell them that, of course. He understood at the very least that the arrangement relied on what little fondness the human had for him.

For now, he was just content knowing that even the Great Bird of Judgement didn’t have any luck with love.

The human neither disliked nor hated O-02-62. Rather, they feared the Arbiter.

Even with half of his face covered in bandages and his eyes gone, there was this perpetual feeling of being observed. Around him, the air feelt so thick that it was suffocating just to be near him.

The avian might call them ‘his’, but that was only on paper. The way he treated them wasn’t any different from how a warden would abuse his prisoner.

If they so much as act out of place, falter in their actions, or break one of his many bizarre and irrational ‘laws’, the human would find themselves bleeding from every part of their body, skin torn, their blood pooling on the concrete floor beneath them.

On his most merciful days, the most he would do was wrap his ink-black fingers around their neck, and just slightly, very slightly, press his talons into their skin. On his worst…well. Truth be told, they couldn’t even guess the worst he could do.

There were many ways one could torment another with a long line of barbed rope, after all, and he hadn’t even done half of them yet.

The tall and noble avian would say that he did all of it out of love. That he acted cold and calloused because he mustn’t let his own feelings cloud his judgement. As far as the human could tell, he was telling the truth when he said he would rather get himself executed than do anything to truly, irreparably hurt their beloved.

In his abnormal mindset, he truly believed that all those floggings and sessions of strangulation was for the best, and not even Punishing Bird was fit for the task.

Unsurprisingly, the three often fought a lot.

Big Bird furious about the new scars on his beloved’s skin. Punishing Bird about how greedy the former was being. Even the Bird of Judgement had trouble keeping his composure.

It shouldn’t be so relieving to see. Seeing the conflict shouldn’t bring them so much joy, but it did.

Because as long as they were too busy, too immersed in their fights and arguments, trying to drag their human doll from one containment unit to the other, they could feel relief.

Even if they wound up being torn apart in the process, even if they might not survive, anything was better than the alternative.

Should the Beholder, the Arbiter, and the Executioner ever come to the same conclusion…one could only imagine what would happen should the advent of the Apocalypse comes true.

It is honestly embarrassing how long I've been wanting to write this idea down, and now that I have, I don't consider it enough. I might write more on this scenario.

Anyway, if you have read this far, I would like to say thank you~

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

Text

⸸ Eyes on Me — The Silent Orchestra ⸸

(An AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I made as many Abnormalities into aesthetically pleasing humanoids as possible, so OOC and fanon are to be expected. Inspired by my personal experience playing with these fuckers ladies and gentleman for the first time.)

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mentions of other Abnormalities like the Crumbling Armor, WhiteNight, [Censored], and Nothing There as humanoids. MC knows nothing about classical music.

Pairing: [Insert!MC] x T-01-31

Word Count: 2200 <

Description: The Silent Orchestra was born to be praised. To be loved. To hear the applause of anyone that stumbles upon them. But to guarantee the survival of the facility's entire personnel, it is detrimental that agents must deprive them of that privilege. No matter how deserving, no matter how tempted they are to scream and applause with madness...

...The Conductor must never see their soul.

Warning: general yandere themes (obsession), gore

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment the Manager chose to contain T-01-31, the entire facility was bound to fall into break and ruin.

Agent [Name] was in the middle of doing Instinct work on O-05-61 when the warrior suddenly spoke to them.

"Go. Your strength is needed elsewhere." With a wave of his hand, a blue flame began flickering around [Name], sparking a new kind of vigor within them. And just like that, the door behind them slid open.

But before they ran out of the containment unit, they made sure to bow in gratitude.

Sure, it was just something the Abnormality did for those he found worthy, but it was still a nice gesture.

Some personnel had reported feeling wary or anxious around O-05-61. Some said that they felt something akin to a thin line being tightly wrapped around their neck around him. But for [Name], they only ever felt warm, safe, around the warrior, and with the blue flames engulfing them, that sensation didn't disappear, even as they traversed further and further away from O-05-61's containment unit.

Not long after, the Manager immediately ordered them to go to the Central Communications Department. Suppression Work.

[Name] could only assume the worst had happened. That an ALEPH-class Abnormality had breached.

...But who?

It couldn't have been Nothing There nor [CENSORED]. There were dead bodies, yes. A lot of them in fact, but it was too...clean. It was a word they never thought they would use to describe a massacre, but it was true. It lacked the barbarity and unrestrained violence that [Censored]'s unique killing style had. That Abnormality left entrails and mangled remains in its wake, leaving no surface untouched by blood.

But it couldn't have been Nothing There's either. The Assimilator left wounds too large to be from a human weapon. Besides, it favoured short-distance weapons; the scythe and mace in particular. These corpses had bullet wounds.

[Name] couldn't help but feel their heart sink. This was obviously a massacre committed by humans.

All the while, [Name] could hear it, the absolute chaos that was currently the CC Department. It was a tumult of horrified screams and the mad ramblings of agents on a murderous rampage. But even through it all, they could sense it.

The music of the end.

It thrummed through their bones, sending vibrations down their spine. It was as if the very sound was trying to encroach their mind.

By the time [Name] reached the Central Communications Department, they were greeted by absolute chaos. Beneath the sharp howls of violins and flutes, and the angry growls of brass instruments, they found their fellow agents.

The panicking ones were out on a murderous rampage, their eyes crazed with bloodlust as they hacked and slashed at anything that moved, but some were just sitting on the ground, staring catatonically at nothing. Then, there were those who were still sane, struggling to stay intact.

And at the midst of it all was the perpetrator.

He looked tall and proud as he stood there on a platform with his players. His hands gracefully motioned about, waving some sort of stick. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be made from the ivory of bones.

At first, [Name] thought it was WhiteNight, but no. If it was, she should have heard the bells before she even left 0-05-61's containment unit. This was...was this the new Abnormality?

The brass were getting louder, overpowering the soft chords of the strings, until eventually, all slowed to quietness.

But the performance wasn't over yet.

[Name] took this opportunity to land their killing blow. The man—Abnormality had their back turned to them. He was completely engrossed in whatever he was doing. Directing the Orchestra? But there was nothing else in front of him other than four women in white, all of whom only played violin and...whatever the bigger violins are called. Didn't they only need the stick-man for a large group of players?

Like WhiteNight, it was a mystery where music was coming from. Quite possibly, this Abnormality had a unique ability that negated the need for physical instruments. That was probably what its little stick was for.

Carefully, they aimed their gun for his head. Sure, a rifle from Der Freischütz won't kill them like it would a human, but it is a humanoid. Surely, a shot to the head would stop him even for just a second?

"S-stop."

A weak, raspy voice halted them. [Name] looked down at the ground beside him and realized the Agent was still alive. Immediately they knelt down. Not to help her, but so they could hear her better.

"How did everyone die?" Information was more important than anything else right now. Their survival relied on being able to avoid whatever killed their colleagues.

"The...music." She began hacking up blood. It took a while before she was able to breathe fine again. "It drove everyone mad."

"Then how come you're still alright?"

"I'm a senior. The lower-ranks weren't able to withstand it. What level are you?"

"Three...I think I have enough Prudence. And fortitude."

"Save it. You think you'll be able to take down that thing on your own? My entire team was decimated by that monster." Her rage seeped through their teeth like the blood on her chin. But beneath it all, they could see grief. Pain.

"Wait for back up, at least. Or hope that this day will be over soon, and you can leave this hell hole to be cleaned up by someone else."

That was...true. The departments from the upper levels were probably still harvesting energy. If that was true, then they should be reaching the daily quota soon.

But that was hopeful thinking. They might finish the day, but would they be able to make it until then?

"God damn, this is what I hate about this job," she angrily spat out, blood mixed with saliva dripping down her chin. "You'll never know what you're dealing with until its out killing all of your colleagues."

"What do you think its defenses are?"

She blinked, trying to recall, but with her blood loss, that seemed like a tremendous task. "I...I don't know. At first, no one could hurt it, but Emily with the Black weapon was able to hurt it for a while. But then, it just stopped working. After that, that awful noise began to ring in my ears, and everyone suddenly went crazy." Tears began to pool in her eyes. "I think...it became immune to damage altogether."

[Name]'s eyes couldn't help but widen.

Immune to damage..? That's..! That shouldn't be possible! If nothing could hurt them, then—

They turned to look back at the pale man. Beside them, they heard the dying Agent chuckle roughly. "What the hell is the Manager going to do about this?"

What the hell, indeed. If it can't be hurt, then was suppressing this thing even possible?

The music became more and more dynamic, probably nearing its finale, until finally, the clanging of metal and abrupt bellows of trumpets warned the descent of the grand finale.

A...flute? Oboe? Whatever it was, it began playing a soft sound similar to a rooster's crow in the morning. And as it did so, the women in white shook their fingers in a way that made the strings tremble.

When it finally did, [Name] thought they could relax...but they knew there were consequences for this.

They failed.

That was when every single person in the room began to laugh, scream, and cry in joy. Except for their senior. The agent beside them only clutched their head, nails digging harshly through their temples.

"What's wrong? Ma'am?"

She began to scratch, the soft skin easily peeling off from the unrestrained force.

"Make it stop make it stop make it STOP!"

[Name] could only watch helplessly as their senior kept banging her head against the floor. They tried to restrain her, but they only wound up with deep scratch marks on their arms. Their weapon might kill her, but knocking them out with the butt of their rifle would be worth it. But just as they were about to do it, all the lights in the department died out.

That was when when they heard the explosions.

All around them, [Name] heard their final cries of anguish before it all ended spectacularly with a bang. It was as if someone had shot them to end their suffering, but...

They touched the blood that splattered onto their face. It was still warm. Rubbing it between their fingers, they felt little chunks of meat and shards of bone.

What kind of gun could...did Der Freischütz shoot his magical bullet?

But that didn't make sense. His bullets never miss. Once he shoots, it hits everything in its way. They should be dead right now.

Their questions were answered soon enough when the emergency lights began to flicker an ominous red throughout the entire facility.

For a split second, they saw it. The corpses lying on the ground. The twisted bouquet of brain mush, eyes, and skull shrapnel where their heads should be.

They could only stand there, shocked. It was only a fracture of a second, but they were already closing their eyes, unwilling to see more.

'Maestro...it seems like one of them made it 'till the finale.'

They heard an airy voice speak, likely from one of the women in white.

Eyes still shut, [Name] could only listen to the clacking of shoes against the CC Department's polished floors. It grew closer, and closer until stopping in front of them. Just a little, they opened their eyes to see.

All they saw was the white of his shirt, the delicate black ornamentations on his tailcoat, and the fine weaving of his cravat. Even amidst all the gore and blood, he somehow remained untouched, unsullied.

The false purity reminded them of WhiteNight, and it made them sick.

[Name] refused to look up. They would have closed their eyes again if it weren't for how angry they felt. From their peripherals, they could still see the aftermath, and now, they couldn't stop looking at it.

The fact that something could kill, cause absolute chaos, and still remain clean, spotless, or act as if they have done no wrong...it made their blood boil.

"Maestro, perhaps she is deaf."

"Or crass. Trashy Another rubble in the heap."

"They must be for not appreciating the marvel they just witnessed!"

A sharp giggle pierced their ears. "Ladies, please. Let's be considerate. We must understand that not everyone has the same refined tastes as us."

At that, all the women began to giggle as if one of them had just said something clever.

[Name] had to grit their teeth at all the insults the airy-voiced women threw at them. She would soon rather go deaf than praise any of these plastic-faced pricks.

What were they even talking about? What did their hearing or taste in music have to do with this?

The Agent was glaring at them when she suddenly felt a cold hand pull their chin away from their direction, forcing them to look at the pristine face of the man. Half of his face looked human.

Well, as human as Abnormalities could look. His skin was as white as the fine fabric of his clothes. It was almost difficult to see the thin line between his true face and the porcelain mask that covered half of it.

His mask's eye was pure black, forever crinkled by the perpetual smile on its black-painted lips. But his true face, the one uncovered, was unsmiling. Dispassionate. Determined.

But for what?

The women immediately hushed upon noticing his solemnity. [Name] could feel their black beady eyes watching them, as if anticipating what their master would do next.

"Maestro, please. Let's not waste our time!"

"I agree! They aren't worth your salt!

"Ladies," the one with the terrible laugh cut in, but this time, there was no disdain in her words. Only stern assertion. "Remember your station. If the Maestro says so, then we follow."

What in the world are they even talking about? He hasn't said a word at all this entire time? Was all the Agent could think.

"Consider yourself lucky, human," a different woman, the one with the...dot with a wavy line drawn on her left cheek said.

Now that [Name] was looking at them, they noticed that all the women had symbols drawn on their cheek, and just like their 'maestro', they all wore porcelain masks. But unlike him, theirs covered their faces entirely.

"Our Maestro is planning another performance. Just. For. You~"

"After all..." One of the women leaned back on their chair. With her chin still pointing up, it was clear she was looking down on them. "...the show doesn't end unless we hear the applause. As such, the Maestro wishes to see you on our next performance."

"We will be looking for you."

And, just like that, all the lights in the facility turned back on. [Name] winced, blinded by the brightness. By the time their eyes adjusted, the ensemble had gone, vanished.

That day, they were busier than usual. Much to everyone's despair, they couldn't end since T-01-31's breach had completely depleted their enkephalin sources. Even the ones that the facility needed to run. Many other Abnormalities breached because of the power outage.

Not long after, the ensemble's entries were updated.

ALEPH-Class, T-01-31.

The Silent Orchestra.

~~~~~~~ End ~~~~~~~

"Every song has a heart, and a heart, its own melody. By now, you should know his." - T-01-31's Redrafted Entry

This definitely won't be my last snippet on him. No, this is just the first movement~

#yandere silent orchestra #the silent orchestra #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere lobcorp #yandere project moon #yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #yandere imagines #yandere scenario #yandere x reader #yandere x insert #yandere musician

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

Text

⸸ I am Here — Part Two ⸸

(An AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I made an ALEPH-class abnormality into a flesh doggy. A lot of OOC and fanon are to be expected.)

Pairing: [Insert] x O-06-20 (Nothing There)

Warning: body horror, gore, violence

Word Count: 1 200+

Description: O-06-20 was only a simple creature. It craved affection, attention. These were things it unfortunately couldn't lose interest in even long after it stopped wearing its canine shell. Not even after its old master, its 'best friend'—its first ever companion—abandoned it.

Note: I decided to write this in a way that the first part isn't needed (though if you wish to read it, here it is). Inspired by the creature from the 'The Thing' and a certain anon's request for headcanons

Consider this the backstory behind O-06-20. Whereas, the first part was written from the perspective of the human, this one and henceforth will be read from the creature's.

Anyway, enjoy~

The creature only wore the shell of a human.

As such, it didn't know how to act like one.

Humans were complicated creatures. The slightest crinkle in their face, and the movement of their body could create a variety of combinations that each meant its own emotion.

The fact that they could swing from one feeling to another like a pendulum only made it much more difficult for the creature to follow.

Not to say that it was incapable of feeling anything. But for something so primitive, it could only categorized emotions into three. Contentment, aggression, and fear.

Because like all animals with a will to survive, the creature, too, could feel those things.

But to think that there was a time when humans could also...'love' it. That seemed like such a long time ago.

It was a word the creature learned from a certain man, back when he used a thick-furred canine as a shell. Unbeknownst to its owner, that his animal companion was already dead, and an imposter had simply taken its place. If he knew, it doubted he would have welcomed its presence.

Every day, that man told the creature, 'I love you, Buddy', and gave him back scratches and belly rubs. Though it didn't understand what those sounds meant...those were undeniably better times compared to now.

Hidden beneath the earth, locked inside concrete and lead-lined rooms, fear and aggression were the only two emotions it saw humans ever express since it arrived.

The first person to visit the creature since it had been imprisoned was a coward. They kept staring at it with those wide eyes as if they were a prey looking out for ambush.

So, the creature treated them as such, tearing off their limbs to replace its decomposing ones.

The second one was just as weak-minded as the last. But despite their obvious fear, they dared to try and touch it, the creature's new addition to its shell.

Without a second thought, it crushed their skull before their hand could even touch it. However, it liked how blue their eyes were. It reminded the creature of a time when the human man used to bring it with him to go on walks together. When the skies weren't blocked by the smog...it was a beautiful blue.

So, the creature took their eyes and used it to replace his brown ones.

The third human never touched the creature. Instead, they were determined to focus all their attention on the funny looking holes in the ceiling that had clogged up from all the blood and gunk of his kills.

So far, the creature had only ever killed because they were too tempting not to. But this one...

Least to say, it didn't like being ignored.

That was when the creature realized what this feeling was, and instinctively, it knew just what to do.

The creature barked at the human the same way it used to at the man. He always gave the creature pets and treats when it did those, but...why was this human only running away from him?

Perhaps if it were to run over and lick them?

The creature considered it, but then, out of nowhere, the human pulled out something from their suit.

It was an odd shaped thing. Small, yet the human pointed it at the creature like it could somehow defend them from it. It wouldn't, of course. Not with something so pitifully weak and small. However, the creature recognized what that miniature weapon was.

And it brought a terrible memory to mind.

It remembered the liquid welling up in the man's eyes. The nonsensical sounds he spouted to himself like 'sorry', and, 'he's not your buddy anymore'. But most of all, it remembered the way his hands trembled as he held that...thing.

It remembered the loud bang after a press of his finger.

It remembered how deafeningly quiet everything sounded. Not even the sound of its shell collapsing onto the floor was heard.

It remembered looking down at the blood trailing down its chest and feeling...nothing. Absolutely nothing.

At the memory of that day, the feeling gnawing within its chest earlier vanished. Now, it was replaced by that sensation of that bullet wound. Hollowness.

So the creature degloved them and made their supple skin its new shell.

The humans after were a nuisance. All of them. So, it killed, slaughtered, butchered their carcasses. It made mangled messes out of all of them, leaving nothing but their arms, legs, kneecaps, intestines, eyes, or whichever body part caught its fancy.

Yet at the same time, it craved something. Something that wasn't physical to replace its perpetually decomposing shell. It knew what this craving was, yet the very thought of it sickened the creature.

It was an emotion, a desire, a need that it never had until it wore that canine as a shell. A fatal mistake, really, since now, it could only be suffering from an absurd affliction.

The thing that humans called 'loneliness'.

The creature knew what it was. Like how a cat knows it is a carnivore and how a bird knows it can fly, it knew loneliness shouldn't be something it could feel.

It was as if that part of the canine's shell latched onto its core and refused to leave. Like a parasite, the shell was altering its host's needs to fit its own.

How inconveniencing. To look for companionship from the very creatures it saw as spare parts for its body. Next, the creature would discover every herbivore in the world suddenly began eating meat.

Still, it looked for it. Whatever it was that could take away this affliction.

Everyday, he tested its visitors. If they failed...well, they either die or survive to see another day. It all ultimately depended on how much they irritated the creature. The likelihood of finding this cure was almost impossible. After all, not even the creature itself knew what it was looking for.

But on the day it met them, the moment it saw them smile and heard them speak in such a gentle tone...it knew it finally found it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The human had one knee on the floor.

"Hey there...boy?"

Again, it didn't know what the human was saying, but judging by the way they were looking at it, they must be talking to it.

To say the least, hey were...unusual.

Everyone else before them had flinched, winced, or scrunched their nose upon seeing the creature's appearance. This one...this one looked at them as if they saw no wrong.

Or perhaps they were only trying their hardest not to look like it.

Still, the creature had to give them credit for it. Besides, this one hadn't done anything to hurt it...yet. The human even tried communicating.

So, the creature wagged its tail, exactly the same way it used to when it wanted to make the man smile. And without warning, it ran over to them.

It felt curious. Would the human run? Scream? Freeze completely? If they were to take them by surprise, perhaps they would finally drop the façade of bravery and act like the weak prey that they were.

Maybe they would even pull out that thing.

Except...none of those happened.

Much to its confusion, the human raised their arms, not to defend themselves but to embrace the creature?

So, the creature licked them—because it didn't really know what else it should do in that situation. Licking had always worked on humans before, so why shouldn't it now?

And as it hoped, the human began petting them.

The same way that man used to.

This was nothing like what they expected at the beginning, but...it wasn't unwelcome either.

Under their touch, it felt its many blue eyes flutter shut, feeling soothed by their presence. It wasn't that they could feel the graze of their fingers, nor their warmth. The shell had already lost all senses and functions the moment the creature killed its host.

It just felt...comforting.

Comforting, because it now knew that there was someone else other than the man to do things like this.

Comforting, because even though they knew it was merely an imposter, they treated it as if it were still a real creature. Like it was there.

When was the last time the creature felt like that?

It had been too long.

Far.

Too.

Long.

~~~~~~ End of Part Two ~~~~~~

Me, seeing the notes of Part One, while still haven't yet started the first draft on Part Two:

Haha, anyway, thank you for having read this far. I hope you are still staying in tune for the next and possibly last part of I am Here.

#yandere nothing there #i am here #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere lobotomy corp #yandere lobcorp #yandere eldritch #monster x you #monster x reader #yandere monster #yandere male #yandere boy #yandere x insert #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere writing #love eldritch #yandere project moon

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

Text

⸸ Who is Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? ⸸

(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I turned a cartoon-looking wolf into a a walking dumpster fire. OOC and fanon to be expected)

Characters: Big and Will be Bad Wolf (Lobotomy Corporation), gender-neutral love interest (called 'N' or 'The Agent', and 'Meat' or 'Little Lamb' by the Wolf)

Warning: non-con (there is nothing pleasurable about this for the MC), erotic gore (the non-con is just gore with erotic subtext), explicit content

Contains: cannibalism, distorted sense of self, moral declination/apathy, angst, overwhelming fear of loss, non-human-compliant understanding of love, bitter with barely-any-sweetness ending

Description: F-02-58 had breached containment just after Agent N successfully suppressed another WAW-class Abnormality. Still badly injured from their last battle, they decided to hide among the deceased until the new calamity passes by.

They should have never underestimated the nose of a bloodthirsty wolf.

(Not directly related at all to my other snippet, "Wolf in Sheep's Clothing")

Viewer discretion is advised

"I can smell you all the way from here, Meat." His voice echoed down the long hallway. "Even with all these delicious food lying around...your scent is something I would never miss."

The Agent knew that, of course. With his heightened sense of smell, it would be surprising if he didn't.

"Just in case you have forgotten, I will have you know that I don't like sharing my food with others. How could you let yourself be beaten around by someone else?"

His tone remained cheery and joking, but N undeniably heard the grating hostility behind it. He must be snarling by now. Try as he might to hide his anger, his big sharp teeth would always betray his true nature.

“But all can be forgiven, Meat. After all, it isn't your fault you are so pathetically weak. I could only imagine just how scary it must have been."

It was an attempt to sound understanding, but how could he possibly expect them to believe that he wasn't fuming underneath that sheep façade? They could hear his ragged breathing. It sounded too slow, too controlled.

And how could they not notice the growl accompanying it?

"Come on. You are making it very difficult for me to understand you, Meat. It isn't fair that you allowed someone else to get a taste of you, when you won't even allow me the same courtesy."

I never asked to be hurt, you monster, the Agent wanted to say. But what would be the point of explanations to someone who thinks with their stomach rather than their brain?

"Meat~" he sang aloud. The clacking of his claws against the concrete floors were growing closer and closer. "I am becoming impatient with your game. Come out while I'm still feeling reasonable. Or..."

The clacking stopped.

"...Would you rather have me force myself onto you?"

That was when they were harshly pulled up by the collar of their shirt. They had been hiding among the many bodies strewn on the floor, lying face down, hoping that they would be mistaken for just another corpse.

In his grasp, they felt like a kitten being held by the scruff of its neck. Abnormalities tend to be taller or bigger than regular humans. But F-02-58 wasn't in his 'sheep' disguise like he usually was in containment. At least then, he held some semblance to a human even with his eldritch height.

Now, with all pretenses of humanity dropped, the Agent could only scream as big, sharp teeth gleamed back at them.

The Wolf immediately slammed them onto the nearest wall, and the impact of it was enough to shut them up. Lightheaded, they could only listen to him laugh. He was smirking from ear-to-ear when he leaned down to breathe his hot, rotten breath against their ear.

"Scared, Meat?"

The only response he got from the human was squirming.

With a slow lick of his lips, he growled.

"You should be."

The Abnormality let go of them. The unexpected action sends them falling down to the ground, but before they could do so much as sit up, he grabbed their wrists and pinned them on the floor above their head. The Agent tried to squirm free, but that only made him growl. His grip which was already so tight only clamped harder, and now, his claws were puncturing into their soft flesh. So, they stilled, too hurt to move even more.

"Good...that's a good little lamb," he said with the sickest grin the human ever saw. There was something in his eyes. Something soft...and loving.

The Agent took this as an opportunity to get away.

The Wolf must have thought he had them under his control, because he didn't seem prepared to be kicked on the abdomen. He fell down on the floor beside them with a gasp, the air having been knocked out of him.

Even if it was just for a little while, this incapacitated state meant life and death, and they weren't going to waste it.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough.

Just as they were about to grab their EGO weapon, something strong and sharp tore through the sensitive skin on the back of their neck. N was just a hair's breadth away from salvation. But the monster pulled them quickly back to his maw, denying them of any safety.

"Aww. Did you really think you had a chance against me? How adorable."

And just like that, he had flipped them around to face him with their thighs spread out. With their legs wrapped intimately around his waist, it felt too much.

Like this, they were exposed. There was nothing to defend their vulnerabilities from him, nothing to protect them from feeling the growing warmth between them. His left hand was still holding their wrists up, and his other one—

Oh, god.

The Agent began to struggle with all their might when they felt his warm palm brush up beneath their shirt. When they didn't stop, the Wolf only growled as a warning before digging his nails hard into their wound.

"Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?" The Abnormality laughed louder, angrier. "I considered being nice earlier. I wasn't even that hungry, now that I thought about it...But you just had to act the way you did, didn't you?"

He leaned forward slowly. This close, N could feel his hot, rotten breath against their cheek. With a tone so serious and ferocious, they knew this was the point that the Wolf would stop playing around.

"Fine, then. I will treat you like the prey that you act to be."

Without warning, his sharp teeth sunk deep into the crook of their neck. His Little Lamb's lips only parted slightly before he clamped his hand shut around their mouth to muffle out their scream.

"Shut it."

It wasn't that he didn't want anyone to hear. But with the state of the facility now, it would just be terrible if another one of his kind were to hear it, wouldn't it? No, their agony was only his, and his to relish.

"After the first couple of tries, it's not so difficult to break down those doors, you know. It makes me wonder if your Manager even really wants to keep us locked."

Pulling his bloodied hand back, he licked the tips of his claws clean. Just mentioning that human alone sent a bitter taste down his mouth, and he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it.

"But anyway, I escaped. And while I was at it, I made sure to release some of the...what do you call it? Abnormalities?"

His Little Lamb's eyes widened as the realization sunk in. Took them long enough. "What? You didn't think I was the only one that got out, did you?"

Everything around the Agent began to look blurry as their eyes filled with tears.

They had just successfully suppressed an ALEPH, and the price of it was the lives of their many colleagues. Now, it was all for naught because some WAW-class Abnormality felt jealous?

"Why?"

The Wolf tilted their head. "What did you say?"

There was a tight knot in the back of their throat. They felt like they were going to suffocate if they didn't force out the words strangling them.

"Why would you do that? I...We did everything we could just to send that thing back, and you just—" Their voice hitched, and the tears began to stream. "—How could you?!"

Crudely, he placed a bloody finger on their lips. "Shh...don't cry."

How could I not when you're giving me every reason to? Their eyes cried out.

"I don't know who you are talking about exactly, but if I released the one who did this to you, I would know." Your blood isn't something I could miss, he didn't add. "And believe me...I won't let them get away with what they did to you."

The Wolf leaned back down again, eyeing the red stain on their uniform. It was undeniably their blood, but he couldn't help but notice a faint stench.

It was from the fucker that caused it.

Slowly, he began to remember why he did this in the first place, and with his claws , he ripped their shirt open, exposing their clammy skin to the cold air. It only brought him slight relief to see that it was nothing fatal. Just a mere stab wound from...something.

Still, he hated to know that anyone other than him had hurt his Little Lamb.

Unable to hold back his desires any longer, he bit down around the foreign mark, hard.

His cobalt pupils dilated as sweet ambrosia seeped into his mouth. Truly, nothing tasted better than fresh meat.

Something hot was beginning to pool within him. Whether it was lust, hunger, or rage that someone other than him was able to experience this, he couldn't even tell anymore. But then again, did it really matter?

As soon as he got a good chunk between his teeth, he yanked back. He had to make it quick so he wouldn't cause any unnecessary tear to their skin. It was reasons like this why predators killed their prey first.

But his Little Lamb wasn't just a food source for him, no. If that was all they were, he would have swallowed them whole a long time ago.

Like he wanted, his bite had covered the mark entirely until it wasn't even there anymore.

He successfully chewed it out.

Being a carnivore, his teeth was sharp and jagged enough to tear through their skin and flesh with ease. Perhaps, his Little Lamb would disagree about the 'ease', but...heh. If only they knew just how painful he could make this.

The wounds were relatively clean. Uneven viscera poked out with their peachy hues, now revealed since the thin layer of skin hiding them had been ripped off.

Had he bit any deeper, he might have reached his Little Lamb's hip bones, or maybe something else that was crucial. Like intestines.

It would be a shame if I did, he chuckled darkly.

As he chewed and savoured the sliver of meat, he sat back and took this moment to study and observe every movement his Little Lamb made.

He drank in every crinkle of their face, every twist their delicate features made. They had been biting down on their lips so hard that it bled.

In that moment, he felt a strong urge to lick the crimson off their lips, but at the same time, something else was nagging at him. It chewed and nipped at his heart like a persistent bug, and it wouldn't relent.

He knew what it was, and that realization only served to fan the dying flames of his anger. It was guilt.

Feeling indignant, he scoffed.

In the war between the rational man and his inner beasts, he thought the former lost a long time ago. So, why did he decide to come back now?

Ignoring his human conscience, the Wolf lowered himself onto the small body beneath him before licking at the exposed skin of their collarbone. It seemed like a soft gesture until he returned to biting.

His Little Lamb instinctively began to hold onto them. He could feel their nails, small and pathetic as they were, digging in through the thin fabric of his shirt.

They were obviously trying to hurt him. When hitting him didn't work, scratching was all that was left for them to do.

But for the Wolf, who could only express his desires through controlled violence...he could pretend that this was their beloved reciprocating his love.

Perhaps, in a different world where he didn't surrender to his instincts, things might be different. That man might feel guilt and disgusted with himself for even thinking of doing this.

But as it was...he felt nothing. Only possessiveness, and satisfaction at the thought that he had reclaimed what was his.

By now, he had left a trail of large puncture wounds on their collarbone up to their neck. He made sure not to hit any vital arteries, but feeling them thrum and heat with life, it was very tempting.

The Agent could feel the Abnormality's eyes on them, studying their every reaction and response to the unbearable stimuli that was his 'marks'. Even with how burnt through their eyes were from all the fluorescent lights, they could see he still wanted more.

It was in the way his cobalt eyes gleamed brightly. The way he clenched and opened his fists around their hips as if he were torn between leaving and attacking.

And on their legs, they could feel it.

They didn't dare to look down.

The Wolf didn't stop until nothing but the scent of his darling filled his nostrils. It clouded his mind, muddled his judgement, and the only reason why he even stopped was because he noticed how eerily quiet everything was.

He sat back, eyes looking over their body. He knew for a fact that the human was still alive. Their heartbeat was still there. But with their eyes closed...ah.

He went too far.

In his daze, he became no different from a beast in heat, and he had pushed his Little Lamb past their limit.

The Abnormality couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of it.

With a tenderness uncharacteristic for the Abnormality, he lifted the unconscious human off the ground, remembering to be careful with their injuries.

Did he regret this? No. Did the human regret ever getting close to him? Maybe.

Regardless, he knew he wasn't the one at fault. He warned them since the very beginning, yet they kept drawing themselves closer to his mouth. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

So, if they had anyone to blame, it should be themselves.

Because right from the beginning, they should have been afraid of him.

Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you, love, for reading until the end~

Here is a cute video of three wolves!

youtube

If I missed any warnings, I deeply apologize. Please comment, so no one has to bleach their mind of my writing. （" ´▽ `)>

#yandere big bad wolf #yandere werewolf #yandere cryptid #yandere monster #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere x oc #yandere lobotomy corp #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere lobcorp #yandere project moon #yandere #yandere writing #yandere drabbles #yandere one-shot #love-eldritch #eldritch-nsfw

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