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ddarker-dreams · 2 months

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Better The Devil You Know.

Yandere Chrollo x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, discussions of past minor character death, and descriptions of anxiety. Word count: 2.6k.

You awake to cold sheets and damp cheeks.

It isn’t a peaceful transition into consciousness. You fight for each breath, a losing battle that swaddles your mind in thick fog. The vapors thin out as time drags along. It doesn’t dissipate in its entirety, preferring to linger and prolong your disorientation.

You wipe at your face with your wrists, ignoring the sting accompanying the action. Hesitatingly, you appraise it in a ray of moonlight that snuck past the blinds. It’s clear, not crimson and thick. A normal product of a healthy body. You should feel relieved, you think. Every organ is as it should be. Your brain remains in your cranium, your lungs expand and contract, and your heart pumps, albeit at an alarming speed.

It’s better than the chill of encroaching death.

…

You are alive, aren’t you?

This question prompts an investigation.

Nothing hurts. Your throat, maybe, but that’s a minor ache spurred from thirst. Your skin is warm and clammy. Peeling the comforter off, you squint, assessing your body’s condition. Weary eyes take in everything. Your socks, the lace trimming of your nightgown, its diaphanous midriff, then your chest. Everything appears in order.

Would your incorporeal form accurately reflect your physical body?

You shake your head.

This can’t be heaven — no pantheon would be cruel enough to set the stage of your paradise with props from your captivity.

It can’t be hell either. If it were, you wouldn’t be alone right now.

You blink.

You’re alone?

Chrollo’s side of the bed is notably empty. He must’ve got up in a hurry, the sheets are in disarray. The adjoining restroom is dark and unoccupied, confirming he must be elsewhere. Your stomach churns. Determined to do away with this creeping anxiety, you get up, padding across the hardwood floor.

The night gifts shivers and goosebumps. Wishing to ward off its unwanted advances, you wrap your arms around yourself. You pass through the door that connects to the common area. Although it’s dimly lit, you can tell he isn’t here. The attached balcony is similarly uninhabited. A quick foray into the study confirms your status; you’re truly by yourself.

What should be a triumph or a relief delivers nothing but dread.

You return to the common room to assess the situation.

You’ve never been left alone before. Not without him telling you in advance, normally with a rough estimate of when he’ll return. There’s no way an important detail like that would slip your mind. At a loss, you dredge through your memories for some sign you may have missed. His voice pierces through your head like an arrow. You wince but ignore your body’s displeasure at anything associated with him. The unintelligible noises sharpen, forming consonants and vowels.

The thrum of the air conditioner eases away.

You’re left in absolute silence, until Chrollo’s voice fades away, replaced by another.

“... She was five or six, I think. Right around the age where you start losing baby teeth. There’d been this game she wanted and, y’know, kids aren’t rolling in cash. So she figured, what better way to pay for it than through the tooth fairy? I caught ‘er with my wrench, determined as anything, ready to speed up the process. It ended up being a little inside joke between us.”

Your lower lip trembles.

“... That’s how she ended up getting identified. Her teeth, I mean. Wasn’t anything else left to go off of. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. A whole life she lived, sometimes getting into trouble, but mostly helping others outta theirs. And to have that— all that— reduced to just… just a couple, couple fuckin’— teeth? What kinda joke is that?”

You fill a glass with water until it overflows.

“Hey, tell me. Has that fucker ever mentioned ‘er? … Probably not, right? Probably never knew she existed in the first place.”

Head thrown back, you gulp down the liquid, fighting the lump that longs to form in your throat.

“Who knows? Maybe I’m the one in the wrong ‘ere. Hell, you don’t look much older than her yourself. I don’t— don’t wanna hurt ya. But…”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes.

“There’s no other way to hurt him.”

Someone’s beside you.

You can hear their voice, though it sounds like it’s coming from miles away, carried over by the wind. Warmth sears your bare shoulders. You smell the faint aroma of sandalwood and amber. It’s distinct, this cologne that serves as an ill-omen better than any blackbird or cracked mirror. You couldn’t scrub it from your memory if you tried. That, or the scent of old books, leather, coffee, and red wine.

You dig your nails into something — fabric, perhaps — but nothing grounds you. It’s like you’ve been transported outside of space and time. Existing, yet far from alive. Your stomach falls while your head floats away. Up, up, up, lifting you higher and higher. From this impossible vantage point, you sway, your limbs gleefully ignoring every attempt to regain control.

And there it is again. Your name echoes throughout the atmosphere, beckoning you to acknowledge the sound’s source.

Maybe you should.

Even if you’ll come to regret it.

When you first met Chrollo, his eyes stood out the most, like the universe itself deemed them worthy of veneration. You found the gray depths captivating. The undertone varied, you never could ascertain if they were a cool or warm shade. All you knew was that once they found you, they boasted a vitality siphoned at the expense of your own.

Presently, they can’t. Their unwitting host has been exsanguinated.

“Where were—” You silence yourself, aghast by the implication.

You’d sought him out. So desperate for an anchor, you would’ve latched onto the culprit behind your drowning. There’s no doubt he’d find some twisted satisfaction in the accidental admission. You shrink away, but the solid counter presses against your spine, halting your retreat. He doesn’t advance, you’d barely created any distance.

“There’d been something that required my immediate attention,” Chrollo answers your unfinished question. There’s no thinly veiled derision or curiosity in his voice. You miss the familiarity. “Does anything hurt?”

It’s then that you recall your predicament.

You’re on the kitchen floor, surrounded by scintillating shards of glass. A pool of water gathers to your right. Chrollo’s bent down before you, wearing a heavy coat and a tint of pink on his nose. He must’ve come from outside. He stares unblinkingly, awaiting your verdict, which you deliver by shaking your head. There’s a dull ache in your tailbone but you keep that to yourself. It’s awkward enough that he found you in this state.

You’re sitting on the floor with one leg extended and the other bent at the knee, allowing your short nightgown to ride up. The compromising position stokes your embarrassment. You shuffle around to maintain some dignity. In doing so, you forget the pointed glass strewn about. Before you make contact, you’re hoisted up. Chrollo foresees your struggle and holds you tight enough to thwart its success.

“You’re alright,” he reassures, his sincere gentleness unbecoming. "Everything's alright."

He places you down on the closest couch and sits beside you. While you regain your bearings, he shrugs off his jacket, then drapes it around your trembling form. His scent and warmth flood your senses. You consider throwing it off out of spite, only to decide against it. You’d be the one to suffer the most. Chrollo remains unusually silent as you cocoon yourself in the thick wool jacket. It’s big on you, but not big enough to swallow you whole like you’d prefer.

“Should I grab your propranolol?”

Another head shake.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Foreseeing your tepid response, he adds, “Verbally?”

You clear your throat as quietly as you can. “I got thirsty.”

“Hm.”

You both know he isn’t convinced. It’d be easy for him to poke and prod until you revealed everything — intentionally or not — but his lips remain in a thin line. You shuffle in your seat. The fabric brushes against your wrists, eliciting a sharp inhale. The burn is short-lived yet the memories associated with it rage on.

“... Chrollo?”

He blinks, likely unused to the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?”

“If that man killed me, would it have hurt you?”

A shadow falls over his visage, like a waxing crescent transitioning to a new moon. When you shiver, it isn’t from the cold. Dark hair frames a far darker expression. His eyes narrow as if he’s trying to see you better, beyond your flesh, at the crux of your soul. You await whatever comes next, returning his stare with equal intensity.

Finally, he slowly replies, “Yes, it would’ve.”

“Then why was it so easy for you to kill his daughter?” You ask, the words weighing heavily upon you. “You might’ve liked her, if you’d gotten to know her.”

The man revealed enough for you to feel like you knew her. Lana Ellis — a woman with an iron will, sharp tongue, and golden heart. She’d recently been hired to work as a waitress at a business that catered high-end events. Galas, celebrity birthdays and weddings, those sorts of things. It wasn’t going to be a permanent arrangement. Lana planned to ditch the gig after saving up tuition money, where she’d then aim for a doctorate in veterinary medicine. According to him, he’d squandered her college fund after the unexpected death of her mother; his childhood sweetheart. He said he’d never forgive himself or the Troupe.

“She wasn’t s’posed to have been there,” he wheezed. “She never should’ve been there…!”

Chrollo shuts his eyes. “What are you getting at, dear?”

His words come out light, though they’re anything but.

“She could’ve been me.”

“Yet she wasn’t.”

“But—!” Your voice cracks, so you take a deep breath and try again. “You… you deprive the world of people you could’ve come to like, be friends with, whatever! All for stuff you eventually do away with. How is that… how can you…”

Righteous anger suits you. It's a sword and shield that requires no skill to wield, reaching for the instruments have become second nature. Their effectiveness doesn't matter so long as you can hold onto something.

“You don’t need to understand.”

This isn't a parry or pivot, he's disarmed you.

“Huh?”

“Yes… if anything, it’s best if you don’t,” he mutters, more to himself than you. His eyes find yours again. “I can’t make sense of your empathy any more than you can grasp my lack of it. If I could, you’d no longer be yourself. Your self-limiting, bleeding heart should remain as is. It’s the one part of you I’ll leave untouched.”

You don’t know what you were expecting.

You slump back into your seat. “... Don’t you think you’re overestimating yourself?”

“Hardly,” he replies. Then, in a softer voice, “You torment yourself, love. This—”

He rests his hand over your heart.

“—Hurts you more than anything I’ve ever done. Yet you believe it unthinkable I’d do away with such an inconvenience.”

“So you’re a coward,” you mumble. The insult is uninspired but it suits your purposes. “You can’t handle it, so you took the easy way out.”

“Rationalize it anyway you'd like.”

Chrollo reaches for your forearm and coaxes it into view. His fingers brush along your wrists, where the man’s restraints left rope burn behind. The irritated skin is slowly recovering. The deeper wounds, those without a cure, will linger after the surface heals. They’re etched into your bones.

“Isn’t going against your morals worse than having none?" Chrollo queries. “That girl’s father knew you had no involvement in his daughter’s death. You’re an unwilling third party, same as she was. And he was ready to hurt you regardless."

Your mouth feels dry. “He didn't hurt me—”

Chrollo raises an eyebrow, causing head to flood your cheeks.

“—All... that... much. I don’t think he was going to...?”

“No, not until he was intoxicated enough to stomach it,” Chrollo retorts. “We’ll never know for certain, darling. Thankfully, I interrupted before it could get to that point."

That point, that point, that point...

What could that man have done to you?

Chrollo appraises you like he's yet to decide on something.

After a moment passes, he leans in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your muscles stiffen as he pulls you close. He exerts none of the force you know him to be capable of. The gesture's languid nature gives the impression you could wriggle free if you tried. You don't test this theory. Chrollo's mood seems pensive, not amorous, hence your hesitant compliance.

He speaks your name. Then, he asks, "What's really bothering you?"

Biting your lip, you turn your head away from him.

He doesn't relent. "You can tell me anything, you know."

If you weren't so utterly exhausted, you might've laughed.

"You wouldn't be my first choice for a heart-to-heart."

"How about your second?"

You look at him like he's just suggested the world is flat. He smiles softly, allowing you time to think.

It's weird.

This is weird.

The lack of verbal finesse, designed to extract any emotion or confession he desires. You're used to his cunning, his depravity, his unfiltered self. You've come to expect it, as one would the sunrise and sunset. Briefly, you search for it. The expedition is futile. His normal tells are gone.

Truly, you could almost forget the imbalanced nature of this dynamic and pretend it's normal.

It isn't, however.

So you'll need to keep your wits about you.

"Could... er..." you trail off, uncertain of the best parlance, "Will something like that... happen... again...?"

The claustrophobia of being shut in a trunk. Blindfolded, hands and feet bound, gagged by a rag. Terrified and sobbing. Unable to breathe, unable to scream.

You feel as small now as you did then.

The man told you his reasoning. It tugged on your heart. Wringed the organ for everything it was worth. He deserved justice. He deserved revenge. At that lone instance, the playing field was even. The immeasurable gap in strength between him and the Phantom Troupe's boss meant nothing if Chrollo wasn't physically present. There was a chance for this bereaved father to return the pain unfairly inflicted on him.

But why on you?

Why do you have to be cast into hell for the sins of another?

And why was it so tempting to forgive the devil's transgressions against you, if he provided salvation just this once?

You don't know when you began shaking, but you do know it won't be easy to stop.

"You must've been scared," he murmurs.

This observation makes your throat feel impossibly tight, as if a serpent coiled around your neck. His eyelashes flutter shut and he rests his forehead against yours. He contents himself on breathing in your air while you wrestle with the odd intimacy of it all; this simplicity untainted by needling or provocations.

"I never make the same mistake twice," Chrollo eventually says. "In light of recent events, I've made it clear that you are off limits. Those who still wish to try their luck, well..."

The air itself writhes like a malicious entity. The sensation is brief, but the impression lingers, chilling you on a primordial level. You're reminded that his control, while impressive, isn't flawless. Every surface can fissure, allowing the noxious contents contained within to break free. This concentration of ill-intent isn't even focused at you. To be on the receiving end must be to face the inevitably of death.

"... They can be made examples of too."

Curiosity nips at your heels, demanding satiation.

Your part your lips.

Then his eyes reopen. They're dull, lacking any illumination, like light itself felt the urge to flee.

It's an understandable sentiment.

For that reason, you decide some questions are better left unanswered.

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running-with-kn1ves · 1 month

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hii! i wanted to ask if you could do a yandere kidnapper x yandere darling? like rich depressed yan that can't imagine living without their darling and ended up taking drastic action, only to find out that darling is way more insane and obsessed passionate than they thought

A/N: I've never been super big on the yan x yan trope but I think this came out kinda cool! Hope this is what you were looking for <3

Synopsis: Sneaking into your beloved's bedroom bent on getting pictures for your stash, you're quickly found by him, who's surprisingly enthusiastic to find you breaking in.

CW: Kidnapping, mutual obsession, shrine dedications, murder (offscreen lol)

WC:3000+

“Nice… new pics for the blog.”

Your camera click click clicked with a shutter noise each time you rapid fired its capture button, eye so close to the screen you might as well be looking through the viewfinder solely itself.

“I can see it now… his unkept bedroom revealed, beautiful little face plastered beside this… heap.”

You looked at the pile of dirty clothes that had yet to be picked up by the estate's cleaning ladies. Well, if you were as filthy rich as he was, you’d probably do the same. Who would waste time cleaning their room when you have the whole world to see? Or in his case, a million press conferences to attend.

Your eye was drawn to a slightly ajar closet, an odd lock seeming to have been hastily unfastened, now leaving the doors peeking open. Something red was inside. Oh boy, you could hardly contain your excitement.

What kind of secrets would the famous, wealthy heir Elijah Walsh have in his teensy private closet? Mayhaps some drag dress up that no fan would expect? Dead bodies? Or even, the rumored cocaine stash his poor daddy was accused of hiding?

You knew Elijah like the back of your hand, unable to imagine any kind of hidden truths that you haven't already discovered. For you, a superfan, (and ultimately, the soulmate he doesn't know about yet) were aware of far more than the average tabloid who didn’t cross trespassing boundaries for love like you had.

You ripped open the doors without hesitation, snapping pics before even turning the light on.

But what you saw, was something you weren’t sure you’d want to keep on camera.

It was you. Well, a picture of you, from some yearbook or singled-out group shot that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact year from. Around your awkward grinning face was a series of items, pinned on a pretty red board like it was a crime scene of sorts. Or maybe… a shrine?

“What the f… is that my underwear??” You looked at the old pair of stretched out undies you had since middle school. Definitely not the pair you’d want some kind of stalker or investigator to get their hands on.

You saw a few old chapsticks taped to the board, one of which you had been searching for in some old bag you swore you left it in. “I was looking for those!” You grabbed the chapstick and a broken brush, the exact same you thought you had thrown away months ago.

Out of all the things you hoped to find-- used Q-tips, one of his musky jackets, maybe even some dark sex toys-- this wasn’t on your list. But you couldn’t help the spike in your heart, the flutter that made your toes point inward.

You had been running this journalist (really a stalker-ish) blog on Elijah since before he got big in the press. You went to the same elementary school and for a short time in middle school, and ever since you couldn’t get his name out of your head. Now, you had a justified reason to keep tabs on him, since his family was currently in the public eye for a variety of deeds.

Along with professing your obsession with him since childhood, your blog dated the shocking events of his controversies-- keeping it all under an anonymous pen name, of course. You had information news sites couldn’t get their hands on; the dedication you put into watching him was a trait of pride you could never let go.

Memories of him comforted you at night, and seeing his pretty face in the grocery store magazines hoarded under your bed made you drift off to daydream land where, maybe, you’d be more than just some heavy breathing keyboard jammer fawning over him from a distance..

And here was, you. Your things. In his room. Even from the times you climbed the tree beside his window, you never saw this… anomaly of items.

“What’s this even… mean.” You whispered, dumfounded and growing antsy. Elijah would be coming back now any second, the route of his driver dinging on your phone.

‘Wait.. does he, know? That I’ve been watching him? Is this all evidence to… incriminate me??’

Worry was creeping up inside of you. But there was no time, not when a heavy vase clunked against your head from behind, letting out a resounding ‘crack!’ from the contact. The chapstick fell from your fingers, camera sliding with you as it lingered loose around your neck.

The last thing you could think of before darkness hit, was ‘man, I hope I don’t fall on my camera… can’t replace it again. ‘

The unconscious darkness blinding your eyes was snuffed out what seemed hours later, replaced by a buzzing yellow light hanging from the ceiling. You groaned outloud, feeling groggy; an aching pain throbbed in your slumped neck and a sore bump on your scalp.

‘Got a killer headache…’

You tried to pull your hands up to the bump to feel for a bruise, but fell flat with your arms tucked behind your back. You jerked them around, not realizing that they in fact were stuck together-- tied by rope, or some kind of fabric.

“Thank god, you’re awake. Thought maybe I hit you too hard-- I don’t know what i’d do if that happened.” A familiar voice rang out in the musty, echoing room.

“What…?” You croaked, trying to look up without facing the wrath of your headache the more light entered your eyes.

“Here, drink some water.”

A bottle came in front of you, so close to your lips all you had to do was bend down to touch it. You did so without thinking, tasting the sandpaper of a tongue you were stuck with. As soon as the cool water touched your throat, you thought about potential poisoning. Who was this person bottle-feeding you water, why couldn’t you do it yourself??

You were too thirsty to care about the consequences, gulping it down as the bottle lifted higher to accommodate you.

Letting out a pant, you sat back, trying to rub water off your lip with a shoulder shimmy.

“Where am I? What’s going on--” It all started to come back to you, being in Elijah’s room, trespassing on private property, seeing the closet hoard of you. “Wait, please don’t report me, I promise it isn’t what you think it was…”

“Report you?” The masculine tone scoffed, a hand falling to your shoulder. “I was worried I’d never get a chance like this… you made it so easy, how’d you get in? The window?”

“...Yeah.” You sheepishly replied, looking up at your captor. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

Oh shit. That was Elijah right in front of you. In the flesh, pretty pearly teeth grinning only inches away from your face as his hand rested on your left shoulder, gently massaging it.

“Is your head okay? I feel bad but.. I wasn’t thinking, could only think about how to keep you here.”

Keep you here? Oh no, does that mean the police are on their way??

“Now.. I don’t have to worry about sending people out to your apartment anymore.. No more security cameras, no more blackmail… just you.” He stroked the side of your cheek that was inflamed from falling against the floor. “Damn. I thought i’d have to go through the trouble of taking you in the middle of the night, I had just sent my driver out for my tools too- but, looks like that’s not even an issue anymore!”

Well, sounds like your fears about the cops was no where near the truth. But now, you were even more confused. Taking you? Stalking? Blackmail? It almost felt like you were listening to yourself talk for a second.

Behind the dark glare covering his eyes, you could see Elijah’s trademark dimples, his pinkish lips covering the slight overbite he had, constantly showing off his front few teeth. You knew those downturned eyes were there somewhere, even with their shine dulled by the shadows of what looked to be a dark cellar around you.

His hair was unkempt, thick, dark strands covering his ears and going so far to the base of his neck. Wow, you had never seen him look so scruffy, even when watching from outside, seeing him brush his teeth in shirtless pajamas. He looked worried, shirt untucked and pants wrinkled as he ran a hand through his hair.

“And I’m sorry to say.. But don’t even think about trying to run away now. I made up my mind long ago, and if I find out that--”

“Urk, I wasn’t planning on it. I saw, the uh, dedication board. Or, shrine?”

At that, Elijah stopped. His baby blue eyes went wide for a moment, forgetting that was where he originally found you until now.

You hid your head down in discomfort.

“I have the same one…of you, in my apartment… in a box under my bed. There’s even a piece of hair from middleschool that I c..ut, from you.” You held back a nauseous gag at the admission. But here you were, this was your chance to prove how much you loved him, how much dedication you put towards understanding his every move, every like and dislike, the intricacies of his family history. “Do you know why I was in your room?” You asked, wondering if he already had seen your worship blog.

Elijah took a step back, lowering to sit on a pulled out fold-up chair across from you. His knees touched yours, still dressed in his black slacks and matching loafers, rolled up sleeves on his cream-colored button up that showed he had taken liberties to get more comfortable for the night.

“I’ll be honest I hadn’t contemplated that… just about how perfect of a chance it was, that you-- my uh, small, obsession since fifth grade.. Was here.” He looked down, a small red tint creeping from his cheeks to the rest of his face. He was bright crimson, like a kid again confessing to his crush behind the bleachers. “But you remember me?? From so long ago? I can’t… Its hard to imagine, i’ve been watching you for years and thought you had completely forgotten about me.”

“Are you kidding?” You watched Elijah rub his eyes, trying to hide his face behind his knuckles. “You’re all over the news, even if I wanted to avoid you. But I haven’t stopped following your every move since, I can’t remember. Every house change, new school, shopping trip with your mother… anytime I was free I dedicated it to watching you, or my--”

You cut yourself off, stepping one foot off into the deep end on a subject you desperately wanted kept hidden.

“If I knew any better I’d say you sound like a bit of a stalker.” Elijah tried to hide his grin behind his hand, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “What were you going to say?”

“My…blog.”

“Blog?” He parroted.

“It’s a…. Dedication blog. To you.”

“Oh, like an obsessed fan?” He jeered, laughing with bright teeth as he braced his shaking from on his knee. “Don’t tell me-- you snuck in here for content to your blog?”

“No-! Well, yes. But some of it was going in my private stash…” You pouted, knowing you’d never get that chance again now that you’ve been discovered. Your days of fawning were going to come to a close.

“So you must be the one who keeps finding a way to get pictures when I never see any reporters around. By, breaking into my home.”

“That sounds really bad.. But I promise I wasn’t going to try to steal, or hurt you!”

That only made him laugh harder.

“I can’t… can’t believe I never saw you..” He wheezed, face flushed as you sat rotting in embarrassment and shame. “I had drivers chase after you for hours when you disappeared-- but you were five steps behind me the entire time!”

Drivers… your brain clicked two and two together as he tried to stop from giggling while hunched over.

“...Drivers?” You question. No way this is what yout thought it was.”So you’ve been spying on me?”

“Don’t sound so offended, little stalker,” He settled down, a permanent smile still on his mouth as he dragged the steel chair somehow closer. “ You’ve been hard to catch, but i’ve been keeping tabs on you, as unseemingly as it is. I couldn’t do it myself but I wanted to make sure you were, okay. Before it was safe to bring you home. Though I had nothing to fear about you forgetting me at all!”

You swallowed, mouth having gone back to a dry desert as you contemplated what this all meant. YOUR Elijah was spying on you in your home? Sending out underlings to watch and make sure you were safe? The man who you’d lay your life down for? You fantasized, imagining him at your window, you-- freshly out of the shower…

“What do you mean by home? You don’t mean.. Here, in the estate, right?”

Elijah observed you so fully, it made you nervous. He had never given someone this much attention in interviews, nonetheless in the photos and videos you managed to snap of him alone. And he was looking at you, with those eyes.

You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Smelling his sandalwood with his knees pressing against yours, his finely ironed shirt toned against him-- right here, in the flesh. You always thought you’d be at a distance, never able to come in contact with him.. And now, you were tied up in his family’s wine cellar.

“Of course my darling. Where else? I can’t possibly send you back to that dungeon of an apartment. And you,” He stood, intent on coming closer. “Came in so willingly, huh? Didn’t think you’d return my love so… earnestly.”

“W-well who said anything about staying?” You sputtered, looking at his eyes glower in an exceedingly dark fashion. “I mean…. You love me? I’d accepted I’d never be seen by you but… you’ve been watching, the entire time?”

He stood up from his chair with a slight creak, causing your neck to strain upwards to look at him. A small touch caressed the end of your chin, his finger smoothening as it lifted your head to meet his gaze.

He hummed, Elijah’s eyes full of an expression you’ve never seen him wear before. Something in the mix of a sentimental possession, and a lover. But it was so tender, you couldn’t look away. It was so safe, so familiar. You recognized that look in the mirror, visible in your own eyes when you planted kisses on his printed photo taped to your vanity.

“Haven’t been able to keep you off my mind since you plucked that leaf off of my spoiled head. Love doesn’t even begin to describe it. I need, you.”

His gaze was so genuine, your eyes soothed by the glazed over grin he gave you, leaning down to hunch on his knees to be closer to you.

“I…” You breathed, wondering if this was a dream. “I’ve wanted you to see me.. for so long. Is this real?”

You stopped working. There was no chance that he had been watching you, wondering and waiting for you to recognize him, when you were longing for his attention, having convinced yourself long ago you’d only be able to possess him from a distance.

Soft fingers that hadn’t worked a day in their lives creeped up your knees, Elijah’s face only inches away as his eyelids lowed, looking sultry as he watched you squirm.

“I pray it’s not.” He exhaled.

“...Well, I’m not staying tied up in this chair, no matter how much you beg. Though… I can’t say I’d mind staying with you. Being with you.. Here, together.”

“Good. It wasn’t really a matter of choice, anyway.” He grinned, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek.

You involuntarily hummed in content, pressing closer to his lips as you arched out of the chair, longing to touch his warm body. He was kissing you; somebody get you out of these ropes before you jump the man.

Elijah couldn’t help but grin like a maniac, drugged on the way you relished his touch and pressed your chest forward to him. He rushed kisses to your chin, bites to your ear and licks to your neck with a groan.

But a sudden stop brought your blissfully closed eyes to an open.

“I’m sorry… want you too much, it’s getting to the better of me.”

“I’m not sorry,” You mumble, hoping that if this was a dream, you wouldn’t ever wake up. “Please, don’t stop.. I’ve killed for this, don’t stop now.”

“You tempt me too much,” He chuckles, gripping the sides of your chair seat to stablize himself leering over you. “So lucky you were my little creepy stalker, and no one else’s. Wouldn’t be able to control myself otherwise.”

“Stalker, murderer of your old lovers… I have many names.” You joked, but the bitterness on your tongue remembering those placeholders you got rid of was sour.

“Many talents, too.” Elijah’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the one that caused my fiances to dissapear? I wondered how they kept doing that,” He looked keenly, seeing right through your little ‘joke’. “Even I couldn’t shoo my mothers’ arranged partners away.”

You tried to look away, embarrassment showing on the way you bit your lips clean and your heartbeat wrapped. “I did it in your name…. I couldn’t stand them thinking they were worth being so close and casual with you! It was infuriating every time I saw it I-- I just couldn’t take it anymore. Even if it meant I’d never have you.”

Elijah buried himself in your hair, holding you tight. The squeeze was so personable, hungry and desperate to hold all of you.

“You have me now, you have me completely. I want you-- what a favor you have done, and you hadn’t even known.”

It felt so good, praised for such hard and hateful work you carried out. Their bodies were mangled, your rage manifesting in the corpses buried under the old golf course near your dingy apartment complex-- and he was happy you did it. Oh, you wanted to hold him, to smell him fully. These binds were stopping you from caressing the lover, the dream you had fantasized holding you to sleep so often, spooning the jackets and dresshirts of his musk in replacement for comfort.

Elijah still snickered in your ear, playing with the tips of your hair.

“But now, I have to see this blog. I’m too curious-- though I can’t say seeing it will help my small obsession for you. A stalking blog-- too cute.”

You were still so shameful of it, now that he brought it up. You didn’t want your soulmate to see the virtual shrine you had dedicated to him, your unseemly thoughts and hungry urges that were far too detailed and graphic to be shared with their perpetrator. But what choice did you have? He’d find it, one way or another.

“F..fine. But you’d you atleast untie me now? My arms are getting sore.”

That seemed to cease his light-hearted expression, frowning against your skull as he inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. It was the same as he remembered, now a decade later.

“You’re not gonna try to leave, are you?” He murmured, caressing pinching your ear with a light tone. But something dangerous was held behind it. It was frightening.. But oh, as if the possessiveness didn’t fuel how much more your insides craved him.

“Do you think I’d really try to go anywhere? Not when you’re so accessible to me now.” You looked over. Elijah’s lashes looked so long up close, sweetly deadpanned eyes watching as if you were being tested, hunted.

He seemed to find your answer appealing, getting up and pulling something out of his back pocket. Leaning down once more, you saw the switchblade bobbing between his hands, a pretty and simple hunting blade. He leaned over you, pressing it against the knot above your wrists.

You focused on feeling for the blade as to not get cut, only for your attention to be pulled back to the spoiled one-percenters lips pressing yours directly. It was a shock, more than anything. You wished you had seen it coming, wish you had been better prepared to share your first kiss with your darling!

Elijah left your mouth nowhere to run as he pressed up against you, fervidly ensnaring your lips between his.

You gladly accepted the pull away for a second kiss, leaning up as much as you could while hiding your desperation. He was so soft, lips gentle and big as they enveloped your bitten ones.

“Sorry,” Elijah broke away slowly, not straying far. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” You watched his eyes stare wonders at your lips, fingers brushing against your trapped ones from behind as the task at hand was forgotten.

“Me too.” You uttered, pulling forward to kiss him again with an open, insatiable mouth.

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yoru-no-seiiki · 10 months

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VILLAIN! READER WITH A YAN! MASOCHISTIC! PROTAGONIST

tw/cw: DDNE, mentions of abuse, actual abuse (by reader), implied parental neglect. protagonist’s gender is whatever you want it to be. gn pronouns.

[ second part ]

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.

You wholeheartedly believed that you’d rule the world one day. The oracles deemed it so, and the rest followed. The only problem being is that you’d rule with an iron fist, causing the death of millions under your tyrannical reign. Many opposed your position as heir to the throne.

In comes the protagonist, your adopted sibling who is also destined for great things. The difference being is that they’ll gain it through defeating you.

Everyday is a murderfest with you trying to kill the kid but because of plot armor they’re resistant to any and all sorts of spells, weapons and even people you’ve hired.

Yan! Protagonist who had been abused their entire life saw this as just an act of love. Even moreso since you were so determined to hurt them everyday. It must mean you adored them does it not? They don’t understand why they’re not able to die or properly get hurt by you though, so at times they’ll even try to get in your way to make it easier.

But this just ends up with you hating them further and further.

As the two of you grow up, tactics start to become even more underhanded and deadly. You had lost all sense of empathy and kindness at this point. You had also halted trying to hide your attempts as your sibling clearly knew of it anyways.

But with your duties increasing as well, you are unable to execute much of your assassination attempts much less see your sibling directly. It came to the point of dull poisoning plots of which Yan! Protagonist had literally gained an immunity to with how frequent it was.

Yan! Protagonist never wanted to become ruler. A kingdom was far too much to manage and think about. All they wanted was to relax and be with you.

But with you being all busy and ignoring them. . . they simply can not stand idle and let this be!

And so they throw themselves into their studies. Those that doubted the Protagonist are now in awe of the way they picked up things in addition to their overflowing determination. They must really want to take you down.

Unbeknownst to them, they were simply doing this so you’d go back to giving them your attention.

Years after you’d officially taken the throne, they barged into castle. Thousands of troops behind them as they declared,

—

“Exalted sibling, I’ve come to take the burden of the throne from your hands!” The protagonist stood before you in all their glory. Magnificent as the scriptures had foretold. Absolutely befitting for the next in line for the throne. Blessed with a face sculpted by the gods.

You wanted nothing more rip it from their skull and watch the blood rain down on their regal clothing.

“You’ll have to take it from my cold, dead body.”

The protagonist froze in their tracks. Your words and pure confusion taking a while to settle in.

Wait, what?

. . . to be continued

Anyways that’s just a smol part from one of my webtoon ideas i’ve been writing haha. It probably won’t be expanded on until I officially published that one and it’s like further down the list of webtoon order so oop-

©️ yoru.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

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hana-no-seiiki · 10 months

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BREEDER! READER: Hey, since you’re god and all does that mean you can change your body or something to get pregnant with my seed.

YANDERE! GOD (yes it’s me again hi): Out of all the questions—

YANDERE! GOD: Yes. Yes I can. *sighs before preemptively spreading his legs for you*

— I worship thee amab version coming soon!!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere oc #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere god #yandere god x reader #yandere quotes #yandere scenario #breeder reader #amab reader #male reader #sub yandere #sub yandere x reader #yandere reader insert

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crisiscutie · 1 year

Note

It's does remind me this one song, Christmas Kids. Yandere Sephiroth tried babytrap his s/o for not leaving him. Christmas kids represent the triplets. Which is Yan!Sephiroth tried to make his s/o pregnant. They tried best to escape hell away from their own prison house. Even, they're change their name and move other country, Sephiroth will find them no matter what.

Yandere domestic Sephiroth AU? Yes, please. I've listened to the song, I really like it. Something about sad songs with happy beats always gets to me. I may have heard it before in some YT shorts... Anyways, it fits a domestic Yandere Sephiroth and a Pregnant!Darling very well. Just imagine the darling coming back to her new home and finding Sephiroth waiting...

Companion fic here.

Content Warnings: Slight NSFW, Emotional abuse, Non-consensual touching, Pregnant Darling. Long headcanons under the cut.

Grocery shopping for the week wasn't easy, but it had to be done. The boys won't be happy that their mother went shopping without them, but school must come first.

Plus, the darling wasn't in the mood to hear Loz and Kadaj arguing and begging for certain foods that week. But regardless of their squabbles, they are her precious gifts. Her Christmas kids, as they were born on that day. The happiest day of her life.

The darling opened the door to her new home, taking a deep breath and feeling the exhaustion from the errand. The ache in her swollen feet, aching back and sensitive milk-filled breasts was overwhelming.

But the pain and discomfort she felt in her pregnant body was a small price to pay for the freedom she and her boys gained.

The young, naïve triplet boys were confused of why their mother wanted to move suddenly, but they obeyed her with little hesitation, anyway.

The darling didn't want them to turn out like Sephiroth. His possessiveness and control were too much to bear. When he took to killing innocent people in the misguided attempt to "protect" her and the boys, that was the last straw. She knew she had to leave that fucked up place called "home" behind...

She grabbed her young boys and left their prison house when the stars aligned...

Despite her unexpected pregnancy by Sephiroth, her journey brought her here. She kept pushing forward, and the reward was a peaceful, cozy home for her and her children. Until today.

As the darling placed items on the shelves, she felt a cold, eerie sensation, as if something was watching her from the darkness.

She forced herself to ignore the eerie chill, opening the window blinds slightly as she resumed her normal stocking pace.

Even though the sun was shining brightly on this beautiful day, the eerie chill still lingered in their new home.

But it has nothing to do with what happened in their past. Definitely not. It's probably just a cold flash from her pregnancy getting so close to the end.

As she tippytoes, she strained her body to place the last few items.

As a response, the backache from her pregnant belly intensified. She could feel her baby's sporadic movements, ranging from gentle kicks to violent jolts. Maybe the darling should've invested in a step stool...

A wave of heat washed over her, a heat that was neither comforting nor from the sun, but a heat that was harsh and oppressive.

Now she's having hot flashes? Oh, the perils of pregnancy. At least this little one inside her should be much easier to have than the triplet boys.

The darling softly smiled as she recalled the adventurous banter among the triplets during their journey to a new home. They were debating the sex of their new sibling.

Loz longed for a younger brother to wrestle and play games with, knowing that he would have a better shot at winning against him, unlike his other brothers.

Yazoo, with his level-headed and composed outlook, predicted it would be a girl, welcoming the possibility of her tempering the wildness of his brothers (what a hypocrite).

Kadaj didn't care either way, as long as they didn't challenge his position as the leader and his status as his mother's (self-proclaimed) favorite.

The darling let out a deep groan as she paused her stocking. Her unborn child ended the sporadic fetal movements with the hardest kick yet. Something just isn't right... Perhaps she will see someone later this week after she and the boys finish moving in.

Suddenly, the dark, icy chill behind her shifted to a menacing heat, like a furnace blazing from the shadows. It felt so familiar, like… No! It's impossible! That chapter was a distant memory.

The darling is just imagining things. It should be no surprise that the human brain likes to play cruel tricks like this.

Like how Loz kept running to his mother, crying about seeing mysterious dark feathers around his school, the grocery store and other places their family would visit. He would complain that Sephiroth was too good at hide and seek.

The darling figured the strange dark feathers were simply a product of his mind, missing his father in his own way...

But it became alarming when Yazoo began to murmur and point out the smallest details of every single dark feather as he brought them to her.

Kadaj was getting frustrated, beginning to wonder why their father wouldn't help them finish moving in.

The darling refused to believe the boys. It could just be the ravens shredding their feathers, right?

With trembling hands, the darling slowly reached out for the final item. When she completes this simple task, she can lie down and relax. All of her stress, and the aching in her back especially, would soon be gone.

Just before she could grasp it, a large, gloved hand appeared and delicately placed the last item on the top shelf.

The darling felt a strange, unwanted sense of relief as she felt the slow and gentle strokes of another hand on her back.

...His presence could not be denied any longer. She felt his chest expanding and contracting against her head, and heard the gentle thump of his heart.

Sephiroth… No matter how many miles they traveled or how many times they changed their names and minds, he still had the determination to find them. He'll always know.

His silver tresses brushed against her skin as he hummed his sinister lullaby, pressing his lips to her ear.

His free hand grazed one of her sensitive, milk-filled teats. His hand then slowly descended, aiming for the treasure below.

His darling's swollen belly, where the new life within her stirred and grew.

He rested his hand on the center of her large belly. Warm, twisted happiness now radiated from him. His plan worked.

His darling refused to turn around. Struggling to contain her sobs, His darling averted her head from him and wept in silence.

His fingers glided over the stretched skin of her stomach, while his other hand moved lower to caress the small of her back.

As he opened his mouth, his warm breath tickled her ear.

"A touching reunion."

I wasn't sure if the prompt ask had the darling pregnant with triplets or already had them and was pregnant with a spare child, so I just combined a little of both concepts, but regardless, thanks for the great inspiration.

Yandere Domestic AU chronology: Christmas Kids | The Reunion is Nothing to Fear | Wait for me | Homecoming | The Crowning Moment

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mothwingwritings · 10 months

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There’s Honey On The Moon Tonight

F!Reader X Kaoru Hanayama

Maaaaan it’s been so long and I am SO sorry. I kinda got out of my groove for a bit and life got overwhelming and draining, hence the radio silence. I wanted to come back with a little fic to get me back into the swing of things and since I have wanted to write for Hanayama for some time, this came about. It was based around a yandere prompt I saw that was “I love you so much, you have no idea what limits I would go to prove that to you.” I actually started writing this for Jack, had all kinds of issues, and decided to write it for Hanayama instead lol. I may still possibly post the little Jack fic I plucked at, but I am overall pretty meh about it so we’ll see. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I really want to work on writing some shorter stuff for a while. I am so in awe of all of you that can churn out these small masterpieces. My ass does NOT know when to shut up and when I start to write my brain is like no… You must explain EVERYTHING, which (whether my mind believes it or not) is not something that needs to be done. ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) So going through a lot of trying to unlearn that.

ANYWAY I will be quiet and leave this hear for your perusal. It is my gift for coming home (finally) and working to get back up to speed! Thank you all for reading anything I write, and thank you if you like it! I am constantly floored by how wonderful you all are, and I appreciate anyone that reads my stuff more than you all know. (╥﹏╥)

This fic is set a few years in the future, you and Hanayama are both adults and at this point he is even more of a Yakuza big shot. You play the starring role of his forced little mob princess wife, isn’t that sweet? I love romance! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

WARNINGS: Yandere, very dubcon (dare I say even noncon?), power imbalances, grooming, unwanted touching/kissing/heavy petting, forced marriage, mentions of violence and hints of cruelty, mentions of sex.

Some people may call this ‘the dream life’.

Sitting on this private beach, you soaked in the last of the sun’s rays before it dipped beyond your view. The world was bathed in a swirl of pinks and oranges as the sun sunk into the sea, the gentle lap of the waves coming so close the water nearly touched your toes. The sand beneath your feet was soft, still warmed by the quickly setting sun. Gulls cooed as they circled above you, the flap of their wings diminishing as they began to fly off for the night. You were envious of them as you watched them soar freely, pained by how easily they could fly away to their home.

If only you could be so lucky.

Drops of salt water dotted your arms, mingling with what was left of your sunscreen. Though you had long since applied it, the remnants of the lotion and sea water left a slightly uncomfortable film on your skin, flaking under your nails when you scratched at it. A gust of wind blew, sending a chill through you. Absentmindedly you wondered if despite your preparations, you had been burned.

“Do you plan to stay out here all night?”

Your breath caught in your throat, an all too familiar voice shattering the tranquility of the evening. You had been so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the lumbering form coming up behind you, his arrival marking the end of your solitude.

Another gust of wind blew causing you to shudder once more. As it whipped wildly around you, your body grew colder. It was an unwelcome feeling, especially when just moments ago you were surrounded by such blissful warmth.

If only you could have just a few more minutes to yourself…

It had been a peaceful day, the nicest one you had had on this little honeymoon of yours. Kaoru Hanayama, your newly appointed husband, had been occupied most of the day, leaving you to your own devices. The peace that awarded was something you sorely needed, seeing as none of this was anything you had ever agreed to willingly.

But now that he had returned all the contentment you had felt moments prior had been drained away, the joy of this island paradise tainted by his unwanted presence.

The night Kaoru proposed he had told you that he could not imagine living a life without you by his side, that his love for you had grown so rampantly that he could no longer bear the thought of not having you officially. He had long since coerced you into being his lover, leaving marriage the logical next step. Brandishing a ring so extravagant it bordered on gaudy, Kaoru got down on one knee. The upper echelon of the Hanayama group surrounded you in a constricting, tight circle, each set of eyes on you fixated on the scene with great interest… Thinking back on it, you had no idea how you didn’t pass out from sheer anxiety.

At that point, you were doomed to become his blushing, beautiful bride.

To you, Kaoru was husband in name only. This marriage would be just another trial that had been forced upon you since meeting the man, his ceaseless infatuation continually ripping your life asunder. Needless to say, when he was off doing some important ‘family’ related things that ate up the majority of the day you didn’t have many complaints about his absence.

When he had departed this morning you did your best to look forlorn as he kissed you goodbye, shoulders slightly slumped as he ducked through the door, off to do god knows what to god knows who. Even as his now wife, you were never made privy to his ‘business’ dealings. So much of his life was shrouded in mystery, and you were just fine keeping it unknown.

You preferred when Kaoru was bogged down by work. If he was otherwise preoccupied that meant you had no expectation to be latched to his side, forced to play the role of obedient, doting wife. You abhorred the part you played in his life almost as much as you detested the man himself. It took years of whittling you down, making you shed piece after piece of yourself until you were everything he envisioned you would be, his perfect partner. He had molded you into his ideal love, and even though you knew you were sinking to a depth you were unsure you could ever escape, there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was hard going against a man who had the whole Yakuza at his fingertips, and the threat someone of Hanayama’s caliber posed against your family and friends was too high to risk insubordination.

So you acquiesced to his heavy handed flirting, playing along with his awkward and curt stabs at romance. You dropped everything for Hanayama, not because you wanted to, but because he expected it. And if there was one thing you gleaned about the mob life these past few years, it was what the boss wanted, the boss got.

He needed you in every way he could have you. You never had the option of saying no.

A heavy sigh came from behind you, annoyance radiating from your husband when you didn’t acknowledge him. Despite the irritation, the words he spoke came surprisingly gentle. “It’s time to come inside, (name). Dinner has arrived, it will be ready for us shortly.”

You wrapped your towel tightly around your shoulders, and with a deep shuddering breath, rose to your feet.

Silence hung heavy over the dinner table.

The meal Hanayama had served was nothing short of gourmet. ‘Only the finest for the finest’ was something he once joked to you, but he held firm to that ideal with every aspect of your life. The Oyabun’s wife was spared no expense, why would your meals be any different? A caterer must have come with him to set the table up when Kaoru first arrived home, as it was set in a way that was far too charming for just him to pull off. Flowers and delicate candles garnished the surface, giving the whole room a romantic feel. Condiments and spices stood within arm’s reach, concealed in aesthetically pleasing containers, ready to season the cuisine as you saw fit.

Sighing lightly, you raised your glass for another sip of champagne. Even with the pretty presentation, you lacked the appetite to enjoy the meal. Picking at it lazily, you swirled the food around to make it appear as though you had eaten more than you had, like a child desperate to meet their parent’s approval so they could leave the table.

“Aren’t you hungry,” Kaoru’s deep voice finally interjected, his own feasting halted to shoot you a questioning glance. “You’ve barely touched your dinner. I thought you liked this restaurant? I chose to cater from them to please you.”

“Sorry,” You gave him a forced smile, “The food is delicious, but I think I may have snacked too much today, so I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

You always had to choose your words carefully with Kaoru, his doting had a tendency to become overbearing if he believed you to be suffering from any ills. The last thing you needed was him fretting over you missing a dinner. “I’ll have to box it up soon, that way I’ll have something to look forward to tomorrow.”

He grunted in response and an uneasy quiet once more loomed over the table. Hanayama did not seem totally appeased by your excuse, and refrained from placing his focus back on his meal. Dark, steely eyes bore holes into you as you sat hunched over, fixing your focus on anything but him.

“(Name)...”

He waited a moment before continuing, a look of brief tension flashing across his features.

“I know you are upset with me for leaving you alone all day, but you must know that I am sorry… Will you forgive me?”

To most people, this would be a shocking sight. It was highly unusual for a man like Kaoru Hanayama to be asking forgiveness so modestly, in fact, you were more apt to be groveling at his feet begging mercy than ever hearing the man beg pardon.

But things were different with you, they always had been. Try as he might to harden the soft spot he had for you, he never could seem to bring himself to give you the same detached treatment he gave others. And while his love for you was something he quite proudly displayed, he also refused to let his affections make either of you a target.

Being the Oyabun’s cherished wife put you in danger, his devotion to you making your demise extremely appealing to his enemies. The knowledge that your death would be a huge blow to the indomitable Hanayama was not lost on any who opposed him, but the problem laid in ever getting close to you. He certainly made it hard for anyone trying, finding a moment when you weren’t glued to his side was rare, finding you completely alone even more so.

However catching you by your lonesome was not entirely impossible, and leaving you vulnerable and ripe for assaulting was not something Kaoru could live with.

To combat this threat, he chose to lock you away so that no one could hurt you, touch you, see you, or ever be near enough to harm you. You were his and his alone, and he would let no other soul take you from him.

Ever since you had become ‘official’, the only people besides Hanayama ever allowed to have any correspondence with you were his closest inner circle and occasionally your family. But even then, Kaoru made sure he was always close by to monitor, hovering near to insure nothing untoward or upsetting could happen to you.

In your mind, the isolation hardly seemed necessary. No one ever questioned Hanayama’s might-one look at the man was all you needed to ascertain that he was a terrifyingly powerful figure. When you were in his vicinity your safety became his only care, any risk to that transforming him into a downright beast, bloodthirsty and rage filled beyond compare. Any unfortunate idiot wandering your way who held even a smidge of bad intent was in for a world of excruciating pain, followed by a slow and agonizing death.

But alone, in your own shared space away from prying eyes and hidden dangers, traces of that monster were nowhere to be found. When it’s just the two of you, Kaoru lets himself be overcome with his fondness for you, serenity overtaking his brute side. This display of vulnerability, these small moments of sickening intimacy, he saves solely for you, blanketing them upon you in suffocating layers until you can scarcely breathe.

“It was wrong of me to do,” He reached across the table, his thick hand encompassing yours in a tight grip. “A matter required my utmost attention, but it was not fair to leave my wife at any point during our honeymoon. This time is reserved for you and me alone, and I went against that. I just want you to know that I only left because I had to, and that I hurried back the moment I was able. I hope you can forgive me.”

If you could have done so consequence free, you would have burst out laughing. Of all the wrongs Hanayama had committed against you, giving you breathing room was the most minor of offences.

“It’s alright Kaoru,” you shook your head, keeping your voice even “I understand, and I’m not upset at you. I spent most of my day out enjoying the ocean while you had to get work done, so really I’m the one who should feel sorry for you in this situation, right?”

He smiled at your jest, a sparkle in his eyes as they drank you in.

“You are always my top priority,” Releasing your hand, he went to cup your cheek, engulfing the entirety of it. His calloused thumb pressed in a bit too hard as he stroked you, scratching at the soft skin of your cheeks apple. His hold was deeply uncomfortable, but you dared not move. “Don’t forget that, (name). Never question how much I treasure you.”

A chill ran through you at the intensity of his words, the rough feel of his palm reminding you of each violation his hands had ever committed against you. You watched as his eyes darted to your lips, a different kind of hunger overtaking his expression as he began to lean towards you, eager for a kiss. In a slight panic, you readjusted yourself, creating a moment to break away.

“W-well, I really need to get this boxed up,” you spoke, pushing off the table until you were standing. Hanayama’s hand lingered in the air for a brief moment, still savoring the memory of holding you. An aggravated look flashed through his eyes, but was gone as quick as it came. “I don’t want to keep it out too long or else it will go bad. I’ll go grab a box.”

If there was going to be a time to escape him for the evening, this was it. You sprang into action, darting around the table as you made your way to the kitchen. The faster you could box up this meal, the faster you could excuse yourself and leave the room while Hanayama took his time finishing. Though it only would buy you a few minutes of privacy in the long run, any time to yourself was worth the effort.

But just before you could completely round the table, a tight grip around your waist snatched you from your course. In an instant you were tugged to the side, plucked up and planted until you were straddling one of your husband’s girthy legs.

Before your brain could even fully register what had happened, he was on you. Desirous, sloppy kisses littered your face as a salacious grin spread across his lips, a low growl rumbling from his chest with each smack of his lips. Your head was spinning at the speed it all occurred, a protesting whine all you could muster as his lips feverishly claimed yours.

Sweat mingled with the scent of his cologne, the heady scent a sign that his actions were quickly and effectively getting him riled up. Overcome with the essence of him, you could do little to fight his intrusion of your personal space, your balled fists pressing against his chest doing all they could to try and create distance. His tongue worked violently, the muscle forcing itself inside you until you were nearly choking on it. Your whole body was thrumming with discontent over how quickly Hanayama came to control your every sensation, his sheer mass totally overpowering all that you were.

The feverish grip he had on your hips kept you rooted, grasping you as if you were his lifeline. Bruises were already starting to form around the press of his fingers, your flesh searing in his hot hold. His hands began to forcibly gyrate your body, rocking you against his leg so that the short skirt you donned had ridden up completely, the sheer fabric of your panties the only thing keeping you from the raw friction of his leg. Your breath hitched as he jostled you against him, small pulses of unwanted pleasure resulting from the action.

His lips parted from yours, moving to latch on your neck. A dull ache emanated from the area he sucked, the bruises he had marked you with days prior not yet completely healed. Without warning, he bit into the tender flesh, causing you to jolt. A dark chuckle rumbled from within him at your response, his tongue laving up the small trail of blood the fresh wound had inflicted.

“My pretty wife,” he murmured in your ear, brushing the straps of your top off your shoulders, “Being apart from you made this day seem never ending. I longed for the moment I could come back and have you all to myself.”

He grabbed one of your hands off his chest, trailing it down his body until coming to a rest on the growing bulge of his crotch. He released a shuddering breath as he thrust against your unwilling palm, his hand guiding yours to trail his length through his tightening pants. Dread gripped you as he began to harden under your touch, his already impressive size growing with each hesitant stroke. Feeling him throb beneath you made your stomach turn, a horrible precursor to the pain you were about to endure.

“Feel what you do to me?” He rasped in your ear, hot breath fanning your neck, “This is all for you.”

“Please Kaoru, I-” Your meek voice began to object, but was cut off by another domineering kiss.

“You don’t have to beg me,” his voice was growing more ragged, breathing becoming choppier the harder he grinded your body against his, “Let me spoil you tonight, it’s the least my beautiful wife deserves for being such a good, patient girl for me.”

Unable to stand the torment of your touches any longer, he stood, throwing you over his shoulder in a display you could almost call barbaric. Making his way towards the bedroom, he smacked your ass harshly, eliciting a pleased hum at the pained gasp the act had garnered.

“I was going to offer dessert after our meal, but you have presented something much sweeter to me,” he chuckled as he entered the bedroom, tossing you to the awaiting bed, “And what you offer is something I would much rather devour.”

Tears stung your eyes as you watched Kaoru begin to shed his clothing, his scarred body coming more into view with each piece of fabric he cast aside.

“Get undressed,” he ordered, lust dripping from his features. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, before shooting you a cocky grin, “I can wait no longer. I love you so much, and you have no idea the limit’s I’ll go through to prove that to you.”

He took a step forward, inching his way up the bed, “But tonight, I don’t intend to stop until you understand.”

#baki x reader #yandere baki #yandere baki the grappler #hanayama kaoru x reader #hanayama kaoru #yandere hanayama kaoru #baki the grappler #baki reader insert #yandere fic #yandere reader insert #baki the grappler x reader #baki the grapper reader insert #baki the grappler fanfic #it has been 500 years and I am so sorry please enjoy #mothwingswritings

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bloodblanks · 8 months

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custom yandere boyfriend pricelist

this is a collaboration with the lovely @nemugyo! ♡

for more information about having a personalized yandere boyfriend, click here ✌︎('ω'✌︎ )

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onmyyan · 1 year

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Straight Venomous

Chap. 8

A/N: Okay here we go babes shout out to all you fine mfs reading this i see you also feedback is always appreciated and I hope you enjoy! 4,749 word count EDITED 1/11/2023

T/W: Yandere, cursing, mention of murder/eating people(its venom y'all), reader is afraid to eat at some point bec she thinks its poison(its not lmao)

It irked your very soul to admit it, but despite everything that lead you here, you couldn't be more comfortable.

The queen-sized bed seemed like it was made for you specifically, cradling against your body in a way that made it hard not to relax. Lavender and mint wafted subtly through the room so as to not overwhelm your senses, the floors could be heated/cooled depending on how you felt in the moment, and the stimuli weren't half bad either. Plenty of books, all scarily your favorites and or ones you'd been meaning to read, and the art supplies you'd forgotten during your escape from the old apartment had miraculously appeared in one of the drawers, a few succulents dangling from the ceiling gave the cozy space a breath of life.

Dreamy lighting from the bedside salt lamp paired with the cold breeze constantly pumping through the vents had time melding in this unrecognizable way. The only way you'd managed to tell time was even passing was Jason coming in with food.

You imagined your experience would be vastly different had you been truly connected with your extra-terrestrial friend- he was still somewhere in you there that much you could feel, only now it was like a wall was placed between you and Venom blocking all communication, it felt as if you'd been drugged or something, the haze in your head unnatural. You'd taken to eating the smallest amounts possible, figuring they were using the food to drug you.

Then there was that unending buzz thrumming throughout the air. You chalked it up to the air vent in the corner of the room constantly pumping out a cool breeze, It was mostly so annoying because of how feint it was. Just barely audible, only heard if you stopped breathing, the incessant noise made your head hurt if you focused on it too long.

It was the day after Jason's confession, you'd gotten shit sleep and woken up rightfully grumpy, all grogginess vanished from your body the moment you registered multiple humans staring at you from the opposite side of the glass.

You shot up with a start, backing against the corner of the bed, nearly scaling the wall with how harshly you pressed against it. "It's okay- I- we didn't mean to scare you, I knew we should have waited shit- it's okay sweetheart."

"These assholes just had to meet you." He offered a look of sympathy as You tried to process the three other men currently gawking. "Get any sleep at all last night?" Jason asked breaking the small tense silence that had fallen over your group, he set down a steaming mug in a small box, a door on either side of the glass.

Gathering yourself as best as You could, tentative steps were taken, and before he could close his side you were yanking on your handle.

"Nice try beastie." Robin said nearly pushing Jason aside as he waltzed over with that fucking grin, "Only one side opens at a time so you'll have to think of another way to be annoying." His hand gripped the handle with white knuckle force, his teeth bared in a mockery of a smile.

Your dreams of grabbing the closest one by their jacket and slamming them into the glass were quickly crushed by the taller male, you took the chance to truly observe him as the last time you met he hid his face. He stood tall, arms crossed in a permanent expression of annoyance, most frustrating thing had to be how pretty he was, copper skin and thick dark lashes were far too nice for such a douche, his tone just as bitter and angry as the last time you heard it.

You stuck your tongue out relishing in the little victory that was his scowl deepening. Jason nudged the smaller man aside to ask once more, "You didn't sleep at all did you?" He seemed to be waiting for something, his face twisted into the most aggravating expression of care, you sighed through your nose and opened the small door, instantly the scent of cinnamon and dulce wafted in the small space, you glared over the cup as you took a long, obnoxiously loud sip.

"Yeah well sorry if I found it sorta' hard to sleep in a fucking box. I'm not used to being a pet." Taking in all four of the men before you was jarring, to say the least.

There was Jason, whose stare made you feel a whole complex cocktail of emotions you weren't nearly equipped to deal with yet, then the man who introduced himself as Dick Grayson, the most visibly eager to be there and the last face you remember seeing at Arkham before everything went black and you woke up here.

He gave a happy little finger wave when your gaze met his.

Tim probably shocked you the most. A bewildered "Pretty boy?" escaped your lips without thought as he nearly buckled from the sound. His face flushed a deep cherry red, lips began to tremble and he had to pinch his thigh in order to force his brain to start working again.

"Hi stranger, long time no see huh?" He gave an expression far too sheepish and charming for his position and shyly looked away, deep brown eyes unable to stay off of you for longer than a few seconds.

Robin stood in his usual get up only this time sans mask. His glare was pointed. Emerald eyes blazing at you from across the glass in a way that had a smirk tugging at your lips. Clearly, someone was still a little tender about your last meeting.

"How's the back?" You tilted your head in mock sympathy earning another heated glare from the vigilante. Without skipping a beat he replied,

"How's the monster?" Instantly wiping any traces of amusement from your form. You met his glare with your own and huffed through your nose in an effort not to throw something.

It seemed like a new day, you'd awoken with a plan brewing in your noggin, since three out of the four were acting like lovestruck idiots you'd treat em' like one, the cage was so well designed the only way out was one of them.

Currently, you laid on your bed, head dangling off the edge in an attempt to get your brain juices flowing, you knew logically the only way out was if you played their game, sure with V temporarily out of commission you'd have to do this the long way, but freedom would be yours again, that you knew.

As of right now, Jason was your best bet for escaping, you knew how protective he was and if you played your cards right he'd probably walk you out the door.

First things first, you needed to figure out how exactly they were keeping your not-so-little friend at bay, you couldn't leave here without getting V back.

Robin, as he refused to tell you his name, was smug when he spoke of it before, as if he knew you couldn't reach out to Venom. He was the key to finding out the how, granted he'd be a hard egg to crack so instead you focused on the puppy dog trapped as a man that was known as Dick Grayson.

Dick was a very intense person who never lost the grin on his face, no matter what you did he was cheesing like you'd handed him the world on a platter. He spent most of his time with you talking about all the things you'd do together once you finally "acclimated". All the ways he'd make up for "it", whatever that meant.

The way he looked at you- stared you down with that predatory gleam in his baby blues, made you feel grateful for the walls keeping him out. What really got under your skin was the way he spoke to you. As if you'd known each other for years as if he was your closest friend and not a man who you met for the first time when he'd broken you out of Arkham.

He also had this bad habit of speaking in "We's", no matter the fact that you rarely responded, no matter how little interest you showed, he never wavered in his enthusiasm.

"We can get out of the house as soon as B clears this stuff up with Penguin." He said one afternoon grabbing your interest. "There's nothing to clear up." You responded staring a hole into the wall, propped up against the side of the bed, you finally looked to meet his excited, longing stare with a blank one. He visibly lit up at the attention, sitting against the wall to mirror you.

"We're just trying to keep the bad guys off your back." His tone was sincere. As if he truly believed in his actions. You had to fight the urge to laugh at the irony of the statement. "You being dead serious right now?" He sat up straighter at the question, dark brows furrowing in seriousness. "As a heart attack Honey."

Brows twitching at the pet name, you interlocked your fingers and sighed, trying to correct him was a losing battle so instead, you switched tactics, if he wanted to talk you'd get him talking about the right stuff.

You made a noise of confusion before cocking your head ever so slightly. "See Jason I understand- what's your excuse for putting me in this boujee hamster cage? This gets you off or somethin'?" He huffed a laugh through his nose, his smile feeling a lot less threatening now, he almost looked like a human when he wasn't burning holes into you.

"God no, nothing like that." He trailed off, eyes nervously shuffling between you and anything else.

"I'm not sure you know much about Bludhaven, but it's sort of my jurisdiction." He began to look away, and his hands began rubbing up and down his crossed arms, a strangely vulnerable position for a man not locked up right now nevertheless- he looked guilty which, given the circumstances made sense but this seemed different.

"I'm in charge of keeping the people there safe. And the night you got- that night at the lab, I was too late to save you." Your eyes widened, shoulders squaring as you registered his words. He knew?

"And I can't forgive myself- not when you're going through what you are because of me." He'd begun chewing the tip of his thumb as he spoke, an anxious tick no doubt.

"I'm the reason you're in here- I couldn't protect you then but I can now. I will keep you safe, even from yourself." He stood to his full height, pressing his forehead against the glass as if he could go through if he pressed hard enough.

"One day you'll understand, I'm a patient man Honey so take all the time you need to accept this." He'd say it with such certainty as if he already knew you'd come around to being abducted by vigilantes.

Tim Drake was an enigma. He freaked you out the most. Something in his eyes was so chilling. He was the dangerous kind of smart which made your escape plan all the more difficult.

What rubbed you the wrong way about Tim was his uncanny ability to tell what was on your mind like he could tell what you were thinking, read between your lines, almost as if he was reading from a script.

"Your turn to babysit I take it?" You asked one day barely looking up from your book. You always knew it was him by the way he hummed as he unlocked the door. Surprisingly quiet, it almost shocks you when he plops down just outside where you're sitting, arms full of your lunch and some kind of high-tech tablet.

"Don't think of it like that-were just hanging out." He'd say from his seat, you could hear the smile in his voice whenever he spoke to you as if he couldn't be happier just being near you. He always had something with him when he came, be it a laptop, phone, or tablet the man was constantly tinkering. "You hang out with a lot of illegally detained people?" You asked hoping to gauge his reaction.

He laughed not looking up from his screen, he'd been furiously typing since he came in, almost like he was excited about something.

"C'mon you don't really care about the law- and besides," he flipped the tablet around to show you what he was doing, his finger slid across it rapidly scrolling through a morbid collage of every single person you'd eaten. Every drop of blood on your hands was on the screen and suddenly his smile felt a lot less friendly.

"I'm the only person in this house who knows who you really are. Not even Jason knows about all the bodies under your belt."

He placed the tablet on the floor the screen side down and began to toy with the strings of his hoodie. "I know everything, all the ugly stuff." He placed his finger on the glass, tracing an invisible heart, staring at the thick plexiglass as if unhappy with its enforced borders,

"And I want you all the same." He tilted his head, refusing to break the smoldering stare down you'd begun. "Do you think they will?"

You opened your mouth to respond but no words dared to come out, the chilling threat was said with such a calm smile it unnerved you to your core. Naturally, you spent the rest of his visit staring at him in horrified silence.

Robin, as he demanded you call him, was probably your favorite babysitter by far, because despite treating you as if you were the bane of his existence, and his near-constant demanded attention, he actually provided some sense of entertainment.

Being kept from Venom was taking a toll on your mental state, after all, you went from a constant companion to total silence, plus he wasn't acting weird like the other three, he wasn't making grand declarations like Jason or speaking to you as if you were the weird one for not being cool with their actions, like Dick, he didn't have some sketchy ulterior motive like Tim, he seemed to genuinely dislike you being there as much as you did.

Damian spent all of his time in your space poking and prodding, desperate for you to show your teeth again. If his taunts didn't get a reaction he'd move to belittle, then mock, and back and forth until he got you to look at him, sneer, glare, anything he wanted you to bare down on him like the animal you were.

"Don't tell me that thing was everything special about you-how utterly disappointing."

"Your mama's disappointing."

"She's an exceptional woman you swine-" your smug laughter would kill his words on his tongue and light that fire in his belly again, the same one he'd felt the night you first crossed paths. He knew fury at your smart mouth yes. But he was more excited you still had that fight in you. He intended to pull it to the surface. Your time with Damian was probably your favorite time of day simply because it broke up the weird Twilight zone world the other three lived in. You're never telling him that though.

Jason was the hardest one to be around, maybe because you still cared for him, either way, it all came to a head one day.

He'd tried countless times to speak with you, ranting, saying everything on his mind as a way to fill the crushing silence. But you were still too sore about it all to respond, no matter how desperate you were for the comfort you knew he'd provide, the wound was still raw.

This time would be different you decided. This time you'd do the steering.

Like clockwork he appeared, only this time with a pep in his step- and instead of a silver tray topped with an obnoxiously healthy meal, was a greasy brown bag.

"Snuck you in some good stuff." His voice did little to stir you from your concentration, the relaxed position you'd found yourself in was the hardest to maintain in his presence. He always matched you whenever it was his turn to babysit you. If you were standing he stood, if you were pacing he'd keep up from his side of the glass.

"Bruce thinks you should only have home-cooked shit- something about how unclean the average restaurant in Gotham is, I know the old man can throw down but this always cheered you up." He shook the bag, his half-hearted smile not reaching his eyes. "Breaks my heart when you don't eat sweetheart."

"Give V back to me and I'll eat." The response was far from what he wanted to hear but he did nearly jump at the sound of your voice being directed at him. You'd taken it the hardest with him, feeling the most betrayed. It had been days since you last graced him with your voice, he was mostly just happy you were speaking to him.

"I'm sorry about that. They didn't listen to me when I said to just leave it alone." He'd placed a paper bag lined with grease in the box they used to deliver food, taking a seat against the thick plexiglass dividing you. He toyed with his portion dejected, visibly searching his mind for the right words to placate you. "B is still deciding whether or not to give him back-"

"God, do you hear yourself? He's not some fucking toy I just-" you took a moment to calm down before taking an aggressive bite from the messy burger he'd given you. "You gotta see how fucked up this is right Jay?" You pleaded setting the food down with a defeated sigh, appetite quickly vanishing.

"I know you hate this- I know you hate me. I get it really, but you gotta believe me," he set his own food down to press both hands against the glass, that stare he gave threatened to burn you where you stood.

"I need you to know I'd never let anything happen to you- as fucked as that sounds coming from this side of the door- you're everything to me." His breath began to break towards the end of his sentence, his thick black lashes beaded with un-shed tears.

"Oh, Jason." Your voice was thick with everything unsaid in your body. "I couldn't hate you."

The gasp he choked out made your throat swell. But you forced your voice to be steady and sighed. Playing this the right way was everything if you wanted your plan to work. "I'm not eating because I can't." Toying with the edges of the soft shirt you had on helped sell the idea. Granted it wasn't a complete lie, V being absent was having an effect on you, your working theory was Jason would worry you right out of the way of whatever the hell was happening.

"I don't feel right Jay- Somethin' about being away from him like this-." You punctuated your words with a delicately placed hand on the glass where he rested. His shiver not going unnoticed.

"Venom isn't just something that happened to me- he needs me and I need him, when human bonds with a symbiote there are certain..things you need to do to stay alive."

"Just tell me." He begged eyes wide with a frenzy that chilled you. "Anything- I'll do whatever you need just tell me."

"You gotta give him back to me- I won't run. Not from you." His chest heaved with anticipation, waiting on your words. "I could keep you safe." He said more to himself than you. "I know I've done bad but I wasn't trying to."

"I don't care- whatever you did, whatever you will do, none of that matters to me. I just wanna keep you safe and happy."

"Then give him back." He rested a fist against the spot where your hands rested, eyes darkening with the thought. "Whatever you need. I don't care what I have to do to who. Just give me time, I have no idea what B is using but I'll find out for you." He seemed so eager to please.

A part of you ached for using his devotion in such a way but also these mother fuckers stole you and took your best friend. You steeled yourself to give him a smile,

"Thank you, Jay. For saving me."

He stared you down with such raw devotion and absoluteness it sort of scared you. "Anytime baby."

And with that, he was practically stomping out of the room.

Jason found himself buzzing from the interaction. He'd been torturing himself with the thought of you hating him for days. Every time you refused to meet his eye or worse when you did and looked at him with that expression of betrayal broke him a little more. He had resigned himself to it, surrendered to the idea that the price of your safety was your hate, and that he deserved nothing more than to be despised by the woman he breathed for.

But now he knows the truth- you couldn't hate him, you said it yourself, he knew you were just scared of the others, terrified of what the big bad bat would do to someone who didn't play by his rules. Jason could protect you from them all, and if the way to secure that future where it was just the two of you, as it always should have been, was to give you back the murderous alien? He was gonna find a way.

Tim watched Jason storm through the house from his room, a handful of screens decorated his wall, everyone having an image of you, one was a live wallpaper of all his favorite pictures you'd taken of yourself, and the others had every possible angle of your room. Naturally, he listened to everything you talked about with Jason, the anger twitching in his veins wasn't triggered by your little plan so much as it was by Jason being the one you went to. He thought showing you he knew what you were was a perfect way to show you he could be trusted but you go and do this?

Don't get him wrong Tim knows Jason cares about you, but he also knows he's smarter than him and could easily press a button that would jam the frequency keeping your symbiote dormant. Bruce had figured the concept out by tracking down the data from the lab, the researchers used high-pitched sounds to keep the aggressive aliens in line. He modified their tones to something that wouldn't hurt you, but keep you from your little friend until he deemed you fit, if ever.

See Tim saw right through Bruce, the older man claimed he was doing this for the betterment of the world but he was just as infatuated by you as the rest of them, he liked having power, especially over someone as strong as you were, and he knew if you didn't pass his tests, Bruce would never give your abilities back. Tim pouted to himself for a few minutes before a lightbulb went off and he realized he could get brownie points with you and throw Bruce under the bus if he caught Jason before he got tired of searching and started shooting.

He bolted up out of his seat to cut Jason off before he confronted Bruce. Tim all but sailed down the stairs nearly knocking into Alfred. He sprinted until he caught sight of Jason in the elevator, hand on his pistol. Tim threw himself through the doors just before they closed and grabbed the hand holding the gun in an iron grip.

"If you go down there like this Bruce will win and you'll never see her again." Jason easily broke the hold and took to using the barrel to hold Tim against the wall by his throat. "You wanna' say that again Timbo?"

Tim licked his bottom lip and threw his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying- I know what you're trying to do and if you fail now, Bruce can take her somewhere none of us can get to." Jason's sneer fell a bit as he considered his words. He dropped him with a grunt and quickly holstered his weapon. "You got a better idea I take it?" Tim rolled his neck and thumbed at the red mark with a look of pure irritation. "Of course I do, I'm not you after all."

Bruce was semi-surprised to see the two of them enter the cave where he currently sat going over a case the commissioner had given him. "What's going on?" He asked looking over his glasses, his hands still working as he turned his attention to his two sons.

"Something gotta' be wrong to pay you a visit old man?"

Jason's foul mood was less volatile now, more like his usual brand of bitterness whenever he spoke to Bruce, so the older man didn't question the hostility.

While they did that awkward tango in the cave. Dick was in his room busying himself with learning more about you. Sure he had all the files and raw data, but he didn't know you, not in the way he wanted to. Yeah, he could wait for you to open up on your own time (which he knows is inevitable) but he's never been a patient man.

He bought a copy of every book you have, all the albums that you listened to most, and he even had one of your oversized hoodies on, he'd bought bottles of your perfume to spray around his room so it always felt as if you were just in there.

Dick lay on his bed surrounded by books with different tabs marked, he was taking notes of the things you might be interested in conversation-wise, his blissed-out expression was almost permanent when he thought of you, of all the things you'd get to do together once you came around. He knew it was a long shot but the idea of fighting with you side by side one day was way too appealing not to try and make reality- all in due time he thought to himself if he closed his eyes he could feel you laying beside him, reading something with his head in your lap.

Damian stood still as a statue outside your door. Glaring at the metal as if it had personally offended him, You didn't know it but he found himself there quite often. If anyone ever caught him he'd say something along the lines of making sure their prisoner had no chance of escaping but deep down, he just wanted to go in there. Whenever it was his time to "bond" with you as his father so eloquently put it, he spent the night before buzzing in his bed, the kind of excitement from being a kid the day before a field trip, where all you can think about is getting to be there.

Despite his sour face he genuinely enjoyed every second with you, sure you two did nothing but talk shit but it still gave him that electrifying fiery feeling he got the first time you two did this little dance.

Each man was eager to prove themselves to you in some way or another, and even though you were the one in a cage, you held the most power in the house, you just haven't realized it yet.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc imagine #straight venomous #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere reader insert

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usetheeauthor · 4 months

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TYKWM Update:

Currently working on The Yandere Knight Wants Me As His Last Dying Wish or TYKWM. It’s gonna take a bit because its plot heavy but worth it, just working multiple works at once. But when I tell yall Coryo is gonna be so delusionally simp for reader lol. Also since it’s beauty and beast inspired with also swan lake references as well but it’ll be with my own twists with coryo having the hanahaki disease trope and also a hint of monsterfucking elements (coryo slowly becoming a male harpy/basically morphing into the very thing he hates)

Anyway here’s another glimpse:

See this post for context

#coriolanus snow x reader #yandere reader insert #male yandere #terato #coriolanus snow x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #tbosas fanfiction #hunger games fanfiction #president snow #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader smut #hunger games au #tbosbas #yandere x reader #monsterfucking

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 2 years

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Based on Yandere Nightwing x Yandere Reader Midnight Blurb, [Link Here]

During one of your daily activities, you and a few other passers-bys pared witness to a new vilian attack in the middle of the street. You didn't care if people were evacuating, your time was spent by quietly gushing one the most handsomely hero's you know. Your beloved Song Bird, Nightwing.

But a little pest was aiding him.

Some girl in a magician garb had ruined one of your most treasured times of the day with her unwanted presence.

Two against one, they easily managed to get that vilian away, but...

After a spell gone awry, Nightwing had been turned into...

A BUNNY?!

You wanted squeal at his adorable form, but you still had to deal with little-miss-attention-stealer.

So, while the girl was questioning the vilain. You, playing a good, stupid, sweet little gothamite. Take the helpless bunny to your shop. Saying you'll help him find his owner.

Which the Nightbunny didn't seem to mind.

Instead, he snuggled into your chest area as his furry little chest puffs up with pride. Showcasing the blue bird from his costume that had turned into fur.

When the two of you made it back to your shop, you set him down on the counter as you went into the breakroom area to look for any snacks.

But you find the small bun playfully running after you, jumping over your feet as you walk. You stop and look down at Nightwing. He stomps his feet, kicking his feet as he runs circles around you. It kinda looked like a little dance, you pick him up carefully and press and small tender kiss to his whiskers.

The moment ends as the girl magician runs into your shop. Her face full of fear as she gasps for air, clearly showing she had run here. You glare at her, but she said that she lost her "pet bunny" and was looking for him.

Saying she was SO glad you found him. While he tried to pull Nightwing from your arms. You frown, but let up, giving the magic user the hero that transformed into a rabbit.

"I'm glad I found him, poor thing, he got lost in all of that vilian chaos. As a pet owner, shouldn't you be more reasonable?"

You smile gleefully as her faced warmed up in embarrassment for being scolded while Nightbun held a look of amusement in his button eyes.

"If you need a sitter, stop by any time!" You call out as she and Nightbunny leave.

You ignore the ache in your heart as you wipe down the counter.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Dicks voice greeted you with the click of your shop door accompanying him. You fix your face as you greet him back with your customer service smile.

"Hi Dick," you say forgetting you mostly called him Richard.

"You finally said it!" "What?"

"You said my nickname," he winked at you with a cheeky smile you knew since the first day you saw him.

"Sorry, just a slip of the tongue." You mumble as Dick tries to keep your attention with a new topic.

"So.. How do you feel about animals, more specifically, bunnies?"

[Did you know that male bunnies court female bunnies by chasing them jumping over the other?]

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

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Reunion. Yan Chrollo x F Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is awful here Big Time oh lord oh god oh no, unbalanced power dynamics. Word count: 2.3k.

It was a testament to the poor quality of your company when every red light you received felt akin to personal torture.

Optimism, that’s what you need. Some adjustment in your mindset that will allow you to view this glass as half full rather than half empty. Optimism. How you loathe the word. You felt optimistic this morning, while eating warm pastries from the hotel’s continental breakfast on your room’s balcony. At lunch when you visited a café and found your drink was already covered, another customer had paid it forward. There was no way you could’ve predicted the sweet taste of the day turning dry and sour a few short hours later.

He’s saying something, you think, spinning pretty words from the loom that is his mouth. You pay him no mind. Rather, you find interest in the shifting landscape of your hometown, as observed from the passenger seat’s tinted windows.

The video rental shop you looked forward to visiting every Friday has been replaced by a liquor store. Your favorite diner is gone now too, the land bulldozed and the signs standing upon its grave promising ample warehouse space as soon as next year. How odd, since the day they promised potential leasers the project to be complete passed about five years ago. A waste, what a waste.

“Are you intent on ignoring me all night? That isn’t very mature of you, [First].”

Maybe you’d think better of it if you were in a clearer state of mind, since alcohol’s pleasant buzz holds you prisoner now, but you respond with unbridled antipathy.

“Did you expect me to be in a talkative mood?”

“When there’s so much to discuss, yes.”

He’s not wrong on that front. You’d rather cut your own tongue out than admit it, though.

“There isn’t anything to discuss,” your rebuttal comes swift. Panicked. “I just want to get back to my hotel and sleep.”

“Hence my driving you, dear.”

“No, you’re driving me because my mom insisted—”

The words lodge themselves in your throat and you make no effort to free them. It isn’t right. For him to be here, where you grew up. In the town where you got your first part-time job, begged your older sibling to drive you to the mall on the weekends so that you could hang out with your friends, crushed over a cute boy from your class who worked at the movie theater. Chrollo didn’t belong here. It’s intrusive, a violation, a breach of your personal privacy to the highest degree. If your body rejects foreign pathogens that would seek to do you harm, it only makes sense that you would give him the same treatment.

Home is supposed to be your sanctuary — his presence is defiling that. Corrupting and warping it as if to say you could never be rid of him. It didn’t matter if you locked the doors and held them shut. He would always find a way in. Always.

“Did you lose your train of thought?”

“Yes,” you lie without hesitation. He knows it, you’re certain he does, but he’s already claimed victory. In the aftermath of a battle, the victor takes inventory of what they’ve gained. That has to be what he’s doing now. Sorting through the spoils and gloating.

“A pity,” Chrollo confesses. Though you don’t look at him, you can tell he’s smiling by his voice alone. “I would’ve loved to hear your thoughts.”

“Somehow, I’m doubtful about that.”

Yet again, in another show of mockery from a cruel and indifferent universe, the traffic light overhead turns red upon your approach. Just like its predecessor. And the one before that. You’d think it was rush hour by the traffic lights alone, but it’s eleven o’clock at night, and you haven’t seen another car in minutes.

“On the topic of your family…” he trails off, purposeful in prolonging the silence, so that your suspense might accumulate. You grip your clutch tighter. “I wish I’d gotten to meet them sooner. We never got around to it, did we? Ah, the stories from your childhood were especially a delight. The senior photo in your father’s wallet was too. You’ll have to tell me what quote you picked sometime.”

You don’t want to think about it, you don’t want to think about it. How a murderer shook hands with your father. Made pleasant small talk with your mother. Discussed cars and current events with your brother. All the while you sat sinking in the restaurant’s booth, your appetite lost, forced to regurgitate some flimsy excuse about why your family had never met your oh-so charming ‘friend’.

“To think I’ve been your first boyfriend in such a long time, too. Your ex still lives in this town, doesn’t he? Working at that… hm, what was it… gas station. I wonder if I’ll get to meet him as well.”

“We are not dating, not anymore,” you remind him, aghast. “And that’s a respectable occupation, anyway.”

“By your father’s tone, he certainly didn’t seem to think so.”

That’s right. What an excellent job Chrollo did at establishing himself as appealing in every prospect, from the choice sports car sitting in the parking lot for them to ogle over, to paying for everyone’s dinner by the night’s end. How they must’ve thought reciprocating his affections would be a no-brainer. Still, you place no blame on your family — everything is his fault from beginning to end. There was a time when you were similarly so blinded by his presence that you assumed there was no darkness to be found.

“You have zero business judging the employment of others with the line of ‘work’ you’re in.”

“Perhaps. And yet,” with the hand not on the steering wheel, he motions to your person. “You have no problem wearing a dress I obtained from my despicable ‘line of work’.”

Heat rises to your face and situates itself there, letting you know it won’t be going away anytime soon.

The garment had already cast guilt on you. After discovering the truth behind Chrollo’s weeks of absence and seemingly endless pit of money, you rid yourself of every material item he’d ever given you. Bags, jewelry, purses, shoes, and clothes; they were either donated or thrown out as looking at them for too long nauseated you. This dress was the lone exception, not that arguing this point would do you any good. You were reminded of your cousin’s wedding and the subsequent need to fly home for it while ridding yourself of his gifts.

The high-end places you’d undoubtedly be attending for such an event spurred you to save one, just one, of his expensive presents. Never had you expected to “coincidentally run in” to him and be subjected to his torments over the moral ambiguity.

After what feels like an eternity, he turns into the hotel you were able to reserve on a limited budget; a potential light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe he’ll part ways with you here. Sever whatever connection bound you in the past, giving you freedom to pursue a future without him in the picture. He should feel satisfied over the agony he subjected you to this evening. For months, if not years, you’ll endure questions from your family about that fascinating stranger who happened upon you that one night and proved himself a desirable bachelor.

“Did you not work out? Have you ever thought about contacting him again? Maybe smooth things over?” Queries such as this would be your personal agony, handcrafted by the man in question himself.

“There’s no need to sit there and pout,” Chrollo reassures, though his words promise the opposite of that. “You look lovely in it. And as you said, I have no business judging others.”

He doesn’t, but he’s going to anyway.

You shrink into yourself when he places his arm behind the passenger seat, a habit you noticed he has whenever he backs up. Before, it birthed life to butterflies in your stomach, but now, you want to create as much distance as possible. No space would ever feel like enough.

He turns the keys in the ignition and the car’s humming falls silent.

For some time, the both of you sit there, neither moving nor making a sound. Your eyes remain firm on your lap while you can feel his stare searing into your profile. You’re agitated, at a loss on what to do, and most pressing of all, you’re tired. His presence promises more than ill-timed appearances and caustic words meant to eat away at your high defenses. Considering this, your stomach twists painfully. No amount of faux bravado on your part can hide your apprehension from him. He smells it out, like a shark sensing blood in water.

All you had in your arsenal were words, sharp yet ultimately harmless words. What he boasted in his… you dread the thought.

“What do you want, Chrollo?”

It’s not that you want to ask, but that you feel there’s no other option available. This was a merry-go-round ride that would keep spinning until one of you fell off, and if anyone was going to fall, it would be you.

“I’ll let you decide that.”

He sounds sincere, however, you know better than to believe that. Suspicion must be written all over your face. He takes your hand in his and you let him. You wonder if he knows it’s his hands you fear the most, rivaled only by his hollow eyes that at times appear omnipotent. As they do now. At any given moment, he could see all of you, while you saw a mere fraction of him.

Maybe it’s a blessing he revealed only so much. If you witnessed the full depths of his depravity, you might never surface for air again, drowning in a vat thicker than tar.

How can so much darkness permeate from another human being? It was times like this where you couldn’t be certain if he was one.

“I’ll either stay or leave by your discretion,” he announces, causing your eyebrows to scrunch together. Just when you thought you’d taught yourself to expect the unexpected with him, he finds new ways to throw you off-balance.

This has to be a trick. Something is hiding in the fine print, and you’re intent on finding out. “What does you staying look like?”

“You were always quick on the uptake,” he’s pleased, evidently, a factor he makes known by pressing a chaste kiss to your hand. All your self-control goes into not pulling yourself free. It may have been intuition or paranoia, but something told you he’d sooner let you dislocate your shoulder than allow you to pull away. Not after he’s waited months for this.

“We’ll get out of this car together. You’ll let me into your hotel room — your bed — then your life. Your parents invited you to breakfast tomorrow, didn’t they? I’ll come with you. I’ll see your childhood home, look at old photo albums at your mother’s behest and laugh at the stories she tells me from your youth. I’ll compliment the arrangement of the furniture, how the colors go together just so. She’ll be simply taken with me. Your father, too, naturally. I’ve already begun to make excellent progress on that front.”

You don’t think you could breathe if you wanted to.

Chrollo leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper that made your earlier dinner want to claw back up your throat.

“I will attend your cousin’s wedding this weekend as your date. I’ll charm your aunts, impress your uncles. Play with your nieces and nephews. You can introduce me however you like. A friend, a colleague from work. They’ll know. They’ll read between the lines. They’ll ask when they can expect to see you walk down the aisle to me someday in the future. You can cry, if you so please, but they’ll simply mistake it as a maiden who is head over heels in love. I’ll tell them to keep their calendars free next June, and they’ll laugh, perhaps you will too.”

He squeezes your hand to anchor you. Otherwise, you think your mind would’ve given you the reprieve of going someplace else, someplace safe and sane and anywhere but here. Hell itself may be preferable, if you weren’t already there.

“I will insert myself so deeply into your life, that to cut me out, you’d have to slice into yourself as well.”

You’re trembling now, like a leaf caught in a hurricane, with no hope of ever reaching solid ground again. Pushed and pulled by the whims of a being that so plainly outclasses you in every category.

What could you do? What could you say? Did it even matter what approach you tried to take? The web was spun and you were caught. The more you struggle the deeper embedded you become.

So you play by his rules and voice yet another question you don’t really want to know the answer to.

“And…” your lips are dry, so terribly dry, as is your mouth, “If… if I ask you to leave?”

He pulls back — not that it matters. It still feels like he’s there, the warmth of his breath, the woody notes of his cologne. Haunting you. Dominating you. Asserting that this nightmare isn’t over, oh no, it’s just getting started.

“That’s simple,” Chrollo takes your pallid face in his hands, stroking your cheek, gazing down at your through thick eyelashes. What gleams in his lifeless eyes, you can’t say for certain. You think it might be best if you remain ignorant to it. “You’ll come with me.”

A kiss to your cheek. He lingers this time, you’re in no position to protest. He savors the closeness he brought by interlocking you to his person with ironclad handcuffs.

“So, what will it be? I stand by what I said earlier. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Be a dear and share them with me.”

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 months

Text

In The Book Stacks

A/N: This ones fo my 1(one) Ezra lover. Sorry for any typos! link to Part 1.

CW: making out in the library, possessive behavior, forceful behavior (Ezra holding reader captive temporarily)

Word Count:1900

“You're really stubborn, you know that.”

Dust poofed into the air as you slammed the book in your hands shut, your nose scrunching at the stench of mustiness.

“No one’s in a library at 8 pm on a friday,” Ezra lowered his voice to a whisper. “C’mon, right here.. Right here is perfect.” He planted a kiss to your nape hairline, softly pulling at your elbows from behind. “Who goes to the science-y section anymore, anyway.”

He kept trying to convince you with that slightly heightened tone, leg pushing between your knees as he trapped you between the bookshelf and him. You were starting to get annoyed, the shadow and humid warmth of his impatient body hovering only inches above you.

“I swear if you don’t stop breathing down my neck, getting caught will be the last thing you worry about.”

Ezra was unperturbed, giving a little laugh at how pissed off you sounded. What was so wrong about wanting to give a little love to his fiance in the library? Well- soon to be fiance, you didn’t know that part yet. Just give it a few months. Specifically, the May you graduate.

“Ooh, look who’s in a feisty mood. Are you scared of a little audience? Of our love… being witnessed.” He pecked at your shoulder, tickling fingers grabbing at your sides to make you squirm.

You put a book you had taken out back in the hole that it had left, shimming closer to the shelf and farther away from your boyfriend’s antics.

“No; I’d just never do something so abWHORant, especially not when I know you, would make an even bigger scene if one of the librarians caught us.” You rolled your eyes, letting out an exasperated goan; he was beginning to tick you off. “What am I even saying? See, you got me distracted again.”

“A little distraction never hurt nobody,” He swayed, pressing into your lower back with his thumbs, massaging the edges of your tailbone that he knew was probably aching from how much standing and searching you've done in the library already. Nobody who didn’t have a chem test tomorrow! you thought. ”Besides, aren’t you tired of searching for this book? We’ve looked in every isle…twice.”

You didn’t correct him for the intimate touch at first, finding it soothing and seemingly without the devious agenda he was proposing. But that touch soon moved to a caress, grabbing the sides of your hips, pressing them forward as his midriff touched your back.

“Books plural,” You sighed, sounding more defeated. “Maybe we should just go home; I shouldn’t have made the mistake of letting you come with me.”

Ezra was like a reward you’re supposed to enjoy AFTER doing an important task; you can’t have a reward in the same room with you though, otherwise all you think about is how needily it tempts you.

“I’ve accompanied you back and forth during this search, don’t you think I deserve a little bit of your time?” Ezra impatiently jabbed, grabbing your hand that was about to pluck another book. You yanked your arm away and pulled out a flimsy textbook off the shelf with it, refusing to acknowledge the tall, desperate creature beside you.

However, it was hard not to regret the harshness of your rejection as soon as you felt the sinking daggers of Ezra’s eyes.“ You know what--No. I’m sick of this. You’ve looked enough for tonight.”

The book was forced out of your hand and hit the floor with a dust-clouded thud, the sound scaring you with its echo bursting around the entire library. It skidded a few feet away from you as a sweetly warm palm concealed your mouth.

You were ripped backwards into a sturdy body, far warmer than the 69° library air brushing down your shoulders and bare knees. About to flail and hit your way free, a pair of bottom-heavy lips touched your cheek to stop you.

“I got off work early--ngh, walked with you all the way here,” Ezra wrapped around you, a squeezing snake intent on suffocating its prey. “And paid for your damn fancy coffee. And you won’t give me so much as a middle school kiss?”

Ezra looked down at you as your head jerked up, his heavy hand nearly blocking your nostrils as you rapidly huffed through them. What was he… going to do? You weren’t particularly afraid, even with his hand covering your mouth as if you were a hostage he was about to violate. But a thought in the back of your mind was scaring you; any sane person wouldn’t act as if they were going to suffocate you just for something so small as refusing to makeout in the library.

Ezra’s clean scent had been watered down by the day’s heaviness, his heavy exhales against your throat making you wonder if he was having some kind of episode. You would’ve elbowed him off if it weren’t for the other arm wrapped completely around your front sight, the anaconda’s tail keeping you pressed flush against its alluring body.

You liked that he took charge, that he held your hand with purpose and dragged you to come dance at parties. But this… should you have expected it, since he practically controlled every other physical movement of affection in your relationship? …But who in their right mind would expect their boyfriend to rip them close so violently?

A pained sound left his mouth as it held open, tongue so hesitantly resting against your lower neck, near your shoulder. It twitched, Ezra seemingly unsure of himself in enacting the obscene display. But by the soft shut of his eyes, the arch of his eyebrows in ecstasy-- you wondered if that was really hesitation, or perhaps a poor attempt to snuff his desperation.

‘Maybe he's savoring your last moments before choking you out.’ That extreme, but maybe-not-entirely-wrong intrusive thought murmured inside you.

His hand shivered as it stroked your cheek, pulsing against your shut mouth. The other thumbing your forearm as it crushed against your body in his grip, keeping it close as you stood stiff as a board.

A high-pitched groan left your covered mouth, whining to be released as you could hear a hoarse cough of some librarian or fellow stressed student from the other side of the bookcase. You pleaded with Ezra with your eyes, tugging harshly on his thick coat for him to let you go.

“stay, quiet..” He mumbled, pressing a finger to his wet lips.

Slowly, his palm raised from your lips as he watched you for any sudden moves.

Taking a deep breath and a pissed punch at his arm, you turned around to face him.

“That's what I should be saying!” You scream-whisperered. “We're in public and you're acting like a child who can't gotta toy he wants-- I'm not your mommy-!”

“Shh!” A voice from the opposite side of the book case ushered.

Ezra grabbed your beating hands, pulling your wrists tight to his chest as you tried to pound against him.

He seemed to grow small by shrinking down towards you, pulling your softening hands upward. He stared up so earnestly, like he hadn’t just licked a feverish stripe down your neck with a desire sp hungry that he didn’t consider your wellbeing.

“Sweethearttt,” Ezra leaned down with a whine, his sweetly soft eyes melting him slowly back to what he was before he tried to suffocate you. “I just want to be yours. Just want to kiss you and keep you…close.”

You swallowed looking at him, bending lower than you to get up close from below, nose nearly touching yours as he leaned up. Who was this overly needy person that replaced your already clingy boyfriend? He was acting more impatient than usual.

Your frustration melted a little on the outside, your curiosity more potent now that you could sense something was off.

“You’re being unusually obsessed today. Why do you need my attention so badly?”

You swore you saw Ezra’s face drop, mouth fixed into a plain thin line before it was gone in an instant.

“Why don’t you kiss me and I’ll tell you?” he grinned, bringing your hands up to his ears, burying them into his hair.

He circled you back to what he wanted again, nuzzling your nose as he waited for your move. He could kiss you, could relish in your skin and smell right here and now with your mouth too preoccupied to scream. But that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Prove that you love me too. I do so much for you, stay here with you, take care of everyone else for you… can’t you just show that you love me in return?”

His bright eyes crinkled, losing their shine as the grip pressing your fingers into his hair suddenly began to feel like handcuffs. Yet his face never wavered, staring into your eyes as he waited for your move. This was a test; he wanted to love you, but above all he needed to know there weren’t any… Threats. Whether that be your own weak mind or another man.

“Wha-,” Your mouth hung open, wondering with surprise where this trial was coming from. Did he see you do something and consider it a betrayal? “I..”

The usual Ezra would gaze back and forth evidently between your eyes and lips, a cute grin decorating his uncannily symmetrical face as he leaned in to kiss you. Now, he was a stoic void that waited emptily, expectantly.

You scoffed, feeling more ridiculous than when you circled this book aisle. “Fine… if it’s that big of a deal.”

Your untroubled tone tried to brush it off, but you weren’t fooling either of you.

It didn’t take much further to close the gap, pressing gently against Ezra’s stiff mouth as he kept your wrists tight against him. Well, if you were going to convince him, you couldn’t keep feeling like a prisoner in his hold. You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, running your hands down to his neck despite his chokehold trying to keep you still. He eventually let go, however not without rough hesitation.

You felt like you were pecking at a statue, the warm aroma of his skin entering your nose as you pressed your face flush against his, tongue licking at his bottom lip with each kiss you tried to convince him with.

Ezra softened, just the teensiest bit, unable to ignore the sensation of your warm fingers on his jugular, moving to wrap each arm around his neck as you leaned against his broad nose. A slightly satisfied, indulgent groan left him. He felt like a teenager again, making out in the library with his hands flush against the bare skin of your back beneath your jacket and sweater, fantasizing about the curve of your spine and how your inner thighs would taste.

He melted, opening his mouth for you and kissing back with the fervor of a long distance lover you hadn’t seen in ages. But in reality, you had just had this same needy kissing session last night, much to Ezra’s pushing. He just wanted to convey how much he loved you, how special you were, to never let you feel inadequate or have the need to run to anyone else ever again.

“Is that..enough.. To convince you--” You tried to speak between his kisses, cut off each time with a wet peck against the corner of your lips.

The annoyed clearing of a woman’s throat came from uncomfortably close, foot tapping on the ground as the librarian waited for you two to finish.

#yandere #male yandere #self insert #reader insert #writing #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #library #reader #x you #x reader insert #yandere reader insert #reader imagine #reader x character #reader aesthetic

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glossytearsposts · 2 years

Text

Captivity

Yandere Diluc Ragnvindr X GN! Reader

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, drugging, reader is in captivity, beginnings of stockholm syndrome.

It’s so tiring, you think. Trying to keep up the energy to fight. Since he had taken you, not once had you let your guard down. No matter how sweet he was, no matter how many gifts he gave you, even at the soft words and touches he gave, you would reject them every time. He told you he would be out for a couple of days and you couldn’t hide the joy that lit up your face, much to his chagrin.

Of course, you will still be taken care of, he assured you. A maid will come by to deliver your meals, as well as providing snacks. She was under strict instruction to not speak to you more than what was needed, however.

You hadn’t realized how lonely it would get. He had deemed your behavior, “Too unruly for exposure to others”, and given that he was your only visitor, time had a way of dragging on in his absence.

At least while he was there you had someone to talk to. Though usually the most talking the two of you did consisted of him bringing food and offering something to attempt to appease you, whether it be him forcefully taking you into his lap to hold you or brush through your wild hair. It had gotten rather long given that he won’t allow others around you and certainly won’t allow you a pair of scissors to attempt it yourself. Or bringing a new book or something from the city to amuse yourself with.

You hated to say it, but you missed it. You had read through the novels he had given you enough times that it would bore you further to read them. The puzzle lay completed for the third time on the floor. You had picked up the knickknacks and various items so many times, arranging and rearranging them, that you were sure they would be worn down by your constant touch. The floor boards were all accounted for, as were the candles and colors on the wall. You were even tempted to start moving the furniture but seeing how well that went last time, you thought it best to skip that.

Maybe this is what he wanted, to make you so bored and stir crazy that you would be on better behavior when he got back. You hated to say it, but it was working. Counting back the meals you received it has been far more than a couple days, in fact, it has been just under a week now. You weren’t worried, just concerned, you suppose. It would be unfortunate if he were to die. And as much as you hate him, he has never done anything to truly harm you. When he took you it was via a drug, he had ensured you were safely transferred, and when you awoke he was waiting there with food and drink to help push the drug from your system. Your safety is the highest priority to him, and he does a damn good job of it too. The one time you heard the maids having a conversation close enough for you to listen in, you learned that someone had been sent by the abyss to attempt to find a clue as to where you may have been, he took it upon himself to guard the winery himself. No wonder he smelled of smoke when he dropped by early that morning.

Shock ran through your system. What were you thinking. Could you really be thinking so positively about him when he had taken you. Kidnapped you and forced you into solitary confinement in his manor. It is wrong to think of him like that. Yet, you suppose it is also wrong to think so low of him.

Letting out a huff, you pushed those thoughts to the back of your head. It would be a while until your next meal and with nothing else to do, you may as well sleep.

The bed was warmer when you awoke. Groaning you curled further into the warmth, not wanting to wake up yet. Upon finally opening your eyes, you were met with a familiar chest. Gasping, you quickly sat up.

“You’re back?” It had come out more excited than you had meant it to, causing you to blush and look away.

“My apologies, business kept me out for far longer than what was expected.” He looked tired, worn down from nearly a week of…whatever he did out there. “I hope you weren’t too bored, though it would appear you have been through every corner of the room, so I suppose you were.”

No thanks to someone, you thought.

“You said my name in your sleep”

Your head snaps up, looking at him.

“What?” You can’t have. Oh archons, please have him take it back, say it was a joke. “Preposterous, don’t say such things.”

“I only speak the truth.” you can tell a rare smile has graced his lips by his tone.

You hear the sheets move, as he pulls closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Part of you wants to fight this, everything about it was so wrong. But, your arms never reached out to push him away, instead you let them rest on his, tracing patterns into them.

Too afraid of shattering the peace, you both just sit quietly for a while. Content to bask in the moment. The door has been left cracked, most likely to not have woken you by shutting it. Noise from the house greets your ears like a symphony. Nearly a week of solitary confinement had broken you down to the point of savoring every noise you could get.

“If you’d like, you could eat dinner and sleep in my room tonight.” His voice so close to your ear caused you to shiver, hating how good it felt. You nodded, this was the first time you had been offered a glimpse of anywhere outside your room in a while. No way were you wasting it.

Besides, you had fought him for so long, you needed a break.

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc #genshin impact #diluc #yandere diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere reader insert #genshin impact diluc

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